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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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Bloom, Bloom, Pow! |2| - CHANGMIN

Again. The pining. I know I was okay with pining in Sunflowers, but BBP is just levels of stupidity that are incomprehensible and you will see what I mean here. Anyway, once more, thanks to @wingkkun for dealing with me screaming and helping me come up with plot points I LOVE YOU <3

(Suggested playlist for reading: Bloom Bloom, Just U, and DDD by The Boyz!!)

Pairing: Changmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, university!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.5k

Dancing with you, Changmin feels flowers blooming in his heart.

Part 1 | Part 2

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ you

It’s with narrowed eyes and a smile threatening to burst through your faked scowl that you confront Kevin the next day about him shoving you into a circle of random partygoers to dance with Changmin (“Y/N, that wasn’t even a dance, that was a mating dance or cult ritual or some shit – hey – don’t slap me, I’m right!”). He doesn’t even blink an eye when you hit him, just smiles that stupid shit-eating grin that he always wears when he knows he’s succeeded at something.

And God, even though it legitimately blows your entire mind, he actually managed to do something right. He somehow got you and Changmin to speak, no matter how unconventional the method, and as much as it pains you to say it, he did you a favor.

Look, normally a meddling Kevin just makes more messes (literal and metaphorical) and makes another when trying to clean them up afterward. This time, though, you have to give him a little credit for utilizing his singular brain cell to come up with this plan.

Because after several games of drunk mafia, wherein Jaehyun is accused of being the mafia three times despite being the narrator (“I thought Chanhee was smart?” “He only uses his brain for math, nothing else.”) and you and Changmin are paired up as the killers twice in a row, you get Changmin’s number, and he gets yours.

If you spend the entirety of the next day texting a certain doe-eyed boy with dimples deep enough to make you swoon, what of it?

He meets up with you for coffee the next week. Untouched by alcohol, your mind only registers his image in the real-life equivalent of HD when he stops moonwalking in place outside the café to fix you with the sweetest smile. It’s strange, the way just a single quirk of his lips or a slight squint of his eyes sends your heart fluttering to the next dimension, and his voice only makes the vision better. Changmin speaks in soft tones that wash across your skin like starshine, soothing with a slight bite of mischief that complements the sparkle in his eyes.

His soft sweater and large glasses only complete the lovely image you’re painting in your mind. Sitting down across the small table, you think your heart is either going to melt into your bloodstream or burst its way out of your chest.

He introduces himself again, as though you could’ve forgotten his name within the twenty minutes you stopped texting him on the way to the café. It’s impossible to resist saying a teasing “I know” and watching him shyly cover his face with a sweater-covered hand.

Even though it might be evil, you cheekily introduce yourself too, unable to contain a laugh when Changmin groans, putting his head in his hands. But when he lifts his face once more, it’s your turn to grow shy at the sight of his pink cheeks and the embarrassed upturn of his lips.

Once, for biology, you watched a video of a flower blooming overnight. It glowed in the dark as its petals stretched out, slowly, over the course of minutes that felt at once like seconds and eternities. Changmin’s smile is that blooming flower, petals blossoming into the widest grin that smacks of a beauty that sinks far deeper than the skin, that spreads through the blood and brushes the heart and mind with the gentlest, sparkling touch.

It stays with you, that blooming smile, on the bus ride back to campus (Changmin doesn’t come with you – he has to go to work, volunteering at a nearby dance center for kids). The memory presses warmth in your body for the rest of the day, horribly visible in the permanent (lovestruck) twinkle in your eye.

“Had a good date?” Eric asks you later, mischievous smirk on his face. He just laughs at your scowl and dodges your swat, mocking the “It wasn’t a date!” that bursts from your lips.

After all, it wasn’t a date, as much as your heart pounded throughout the entire two hours of conversation. It wasn’t a date, no matter how much you really wanted it to be. It was just two possible friends getting to know each other over a cup of coffee, right?

And even though it stings a little in your heart, you can be content with that. Seeing Changmin’s grin, that wide grin that shows all his teeth and scrunches his eyes into the cutest slits and makes flowers bloom in your heart, is all you could ever ask for.

. . .

~ changmin

Changmin just wants to know when getting punched in the chest repeatedly started feeling so good.

No, he isn’t actually getting punched in the chest every other day. It’s just that it feels that way, every time his phone vibrates with a text from you or he sees your sparkling eyes across the hall coming his way to do the dance you two have become so known for (what happened at the party went viral on the university Snapchat, sadly. Jaehyun denies taking the video, but it might just as well have been Jangjun). Your presence makes his heart thump once, twice, a thousand times in the space of mere seconds, and the force with which the thumps sound make it feel like someone is punching him in the chest over and over, but in a good way.

God, when did he get like this? Younger Changmin would cringe at these feelings, at the million metaphors he can come up with for your smile. But Older Changmin takes the feelings, stores them quietly in his heart, and lets your sparkling warmth illuminate his presence every day.

“You’re shining,” Chanhee remarks at one point after you pass by, leaving Changmin inevitably awestruck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pregnant. You’ve got that glow.”

He runs, of course, when Changmin leaps at him with teeth bared. Chanhee’s never really known when to shut his mouth (resulting in his entire friend group clowning him to high heaven), but, well, he’s kind of right, Changmin supposes. His lips have never spread as widely as they do when you’re trying to step all over his toes. He’s not pregnant and he’s pretty sure he isn’t glowing, but you make him feel like he might be. Glowing, that is. Not pregnant.

That’s definitely not it.

“Maybe suggest a date?” Younghoon says one day, face still half scrunched into a cringe from your biweekly dance in the literature building. “I’m so sick of seeing you two literally dance around your fucking feelings.”

“Don’t curse,” Changmin says, evading the question. “It doesn’t suit your puppy persona.”

“Like your obsession with horror movies suits your doe eyes,” Younghoon snorts, tossing his bread wrapper into a nearby trash can. “Don’t avoid the question. Why won’t you ask them out?”

That’s a good question, one that spins around Changmin’s mind every second of the day. It whirls even faster when something reminds him of you, like a pretty flower that might look nice tucked behind your ear, a notebook that’s the same design as the one you use for biology, or the special ringtone he’s set for your text messages so he can respond as fast as possible.

An awful lot of things remind him of you.

But as much as he’d like to form the words in his mouth, let those six simple words burst from his throat – “Will you go out with me?” – they die the moment they reach his lips. He’s analyzed this phenomenon from so many angles, worked through it after every time he’s met your lovely eyes, and there’s only one conclusion he’s come up with.

He, Ji Changmin, lover of horror movies and dolls and clowns and possession, is scared. Scared of asking you out, only to be rejected because you have your eye on someone else. Scared of asking you out, only to be faced with the fact that you don’t love his smiles the same way he loves yours. Scared of asking you out, only to have his heart crushed under your gentle, well-meaning hands.

The thumping in his chest turns painful and bitter when he thinks of this, unpleasantly cold and sharp, nothing like the sparkling warmth you evoke in his heart. It makes his mouth thin into a line, lips tight with the fear of splitting from your smile, never to see it again after your rejection.

“Y/N might not like me back,” is all Changmin says, though, keeping all of the metaphors and analysis hidden deep in the crevices of his brain. “I want to at least keep what we already have.”

Younghoon probably wants to start ranting about Changmin’s idiocy like Kevin always does, yelling about how there’s no way you’re not in love with him as much as he’s head over heels for you. He probably would, but Younghoon’s known Changmin for over a decade and a half so he knows there’s real fear in Changmin’s voice when he speaks of your possible rejection. His eyes soften as he pats Changmin’s head, and though he’ll complain about Younghoon messing up his hair, he’s grateful for his friend’s understanding. He’s grateful that he won’t push it further (at least for now).

So Changmin contents himself with looking forward to your texts, going on coffee dates that aren’t dates, seeing your smiles and hearing your laughs. He resists the urge to push back strands of hair that fall into your eyes, hugs you for only an appropriate amount of time, and does his best not to stare at your lips for too long, imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. Pillowy soft, sweet, gentle –

Hey. No. Changmin shakes his head. None of that pining nonsense. Your smile is everything he’s wanted to see in his life, and he’ll be content with that.

Just knowing you’re well and happy is enough.

. . . . .

~ you

It’s late afternoon, almost evening when Changmin calls. He sounds slightly breathless on the other end – he must have just finished dance practice – as he chirps your name, sending butterflies flitting into your heart. “Wanna get coffee?”

“It’s nearly six, Changmin.” You snort. “You want to get coffee now? You won’t be able to sleep later.”

“But coffee,” he whines. “I want coffee.”

“No coffee,” you decide firmly. “But I’ll buy you dinner. What do you want?”

Changmin squawks. “I can buy my own dinner!”

“You bought the coffee last time,” you argue. “It’s my turn to pay.” You can almost hear him getting ready to argue, even if he hasn’t said anything, so you head him off. “Don’t argue with me, I’ll fight you over this.”

“With what, your mediocre dance skills?” Changmin snarks.

“Excuse me?” you snap in mock indignation, secretly smiling as his laughs fill your ear. “Mediocre?”

“I’ll call you a good dancer when you actually succeed in tripping me,” he says, still giggling. “We can go to the ramen place just off campus?”

So instead of spending the evening at your dorm, working on a paper that’s due in a few days, you spend it in the dimly lit, cheap ramen restaurant across the street from the university entrance, laughing and talking with Changmin all the while trying desperately not to show how deeply your heart beats for him.

It’s so hard, you think, walking out of the restaurant a couple of hours later (after fighting over the bill – you’re pretty sure the waiter was going to have an aneurysm by the time you finally managed to toss your card to him). It’s so hard to pretend Changmin doesn’t mean something more to you, when everything about the doe-eyed boy just makes you feel like melting into the ground.

“You never stop dancing, do you?” you ask idly, watching his feet slide along the rough sidewalk. “How do your shoes hold up? They’ve got to be rubbed smooth by now.”

Changmin shrugs. “I manage,” he says, dimple visible as he twirls under a streetlamp, spinning neatly onto campus. “Dancing’s in my blood, I can’t just stop.”

“I can see that,” you say, amused. “Want some music?”

It doesn’t matter what song comes up on your phone, you’ve come to learn. You used to be a bit self-conscious of your music taste and would try to pick songs you thought he’d enjoy, but Changmin, you know now, will find a beat or a melody that he likes in anything that ends up playing. Sure enough, as soon as the first few bars sound from your phone, Changmin’s already grinning, arms floating, feet sliding in a slightly silly but nonetheless lovely dance.

For a few moments, you two stay where you are, Changmin dancing with the grace of a butterfly under the darkening sky, you watching from the side. His grin is bright, so bright, brighter than the streetlights and the moon beginning to glow behind the clouds. You can’t do anything but watch, rooted in place by his grace and beauty.

It’s a bit like touching stars, seeing Changmin’s smile. It should seem impossible to be within reach of something so bright that it can shine across unfathomable distances to light up the night sky, just as it feels impossible to be in the presence of Changmin’s blooming grin. His eyes crinkle like small beacons of light sparkling across the rippling blanket of night, his mouth curving into the brightest crescent moon.

And as you watch, mesmerized, with that lovely crescent smile comes a twitch of the fingers, a slight glint in the eye that’s all too familiar by now.

It’s more of a smirk than a smile, you muse, as the corners of your lips begin to turn upward as well. It’s endlessly alluring, pulling you into his space as Changmin’s elegant steps evade your awkward feet. Your laughs fill the empty university paths, smiles lighting the sidewalk as music blasts from the phone you’re still clutching in your hand, flooding the air, mixing with your yelps and giggles into one singular melody.

“Still mediocre,” Changmin sings as he steps around you once more, effortlessly avoiding your flailing arms. “When will I ever be able to call you a good dancer?”

Once again, like it often does in Changmin’s presence, your body makes a decision without waiting on input from your brain. All you know is that your mouth is suddenly yelling, “Today!” and then you leap.

His eyes widen in surprise, but even his graceful legs aren’t enough to keep him upright this time. You crash into his chest with an audible thump. For a split second, you feel yourself suspended in air as your feet leave the ground, and then the two of you topple over onto the soft grass lining the edges of the path.

Silence. Dead silence.

Then breathless, uncontrollable laughter erupts from Changmin’s lips.

It feels like seconds and it feels like hours that you spend there, embarrassed giggles turning to snorts as you realize how stupid this whole situation is. Changmin’s chest is warm beneath your body, heaving with laughs that burst from his throat and mix with the music still blaring from your hand. You can only follow his example, wheezing breaths from the pit of your stomach.

“Am I a good dancer?” you finally gasp, the last strains of the song fading in the air. “Am I, Changmin?”

His eyes stare into yours, crinkled with joy, twinkling under the rising moon. “Yes,” he says, lips stretched wide. “You are.”

The last vestiges of laughter have died by now. Slowly, silence takes over the moment as you stare into Changmin’s soft eyes, losing yourself in his gaze.

And only then do you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

He’s right under you, chest pressed flush against yours. You swear you can hear his heartbeat – he has to be able to hear or at least feel yours, it’s hammering at a pace that’s definitely unhealthy – and oh God, your faces are barely inches apart.

You should move. This is a horrible, awkward position, and it must be even worse for Changmin, who’s being buried underneath you. But you can’t shift. You can’t. Something’s rooting you in place.

Changmin doesn’t move either, despite how uncomfortable he must be. If anything, he looks peaceful as he gazes into your eyes, his smile growing smaller but infinitely gentler, lips slightly parted and –

Oh.

His lips.

Your throat goes dry as you realize just how close you are to kissing him.

It isn’t just you, you swear. Changmin’s eyes move, too, shifting slightly from staring into yours to gaze upon your own lips.

Your heart races.

For a second, one blissful, agonizing second, you think you’re going to close the inch gap and press your lips to his, or maybe he’ll brave the chasm and press his lips to yours. For one single warm second, you really think that Changmin might return your feelings, that he might even feel as deeply for you as you feel about him.

Then the next song starts playing on your phone, and with that song, something snaps. The moment breaks. You become painfully aware of the cool night air brushing against your arms and making you shiver. The blissful moment disappears as Changmin moves, presumably to roll out from under you, and you quickly shift yourself off of his chest, freeing him. With fingers still trembling with adrenaline, you turn off your music.

He stands up quickly, brushing off his pants, smiling like nothing happened. Under the glare of the streetlamp, you can’t tell if you’re just imagining the pink dusting his cheeks, the red tinting his ears. “You’re a good dancer,” is all he says. His words betray nothing about his thoughts on what just happened.

Hot, shameful embarrassment rushes through your blood as you take his proffered hand, pulling you up. “I’m glad you think so,” you say, trying to sound as light and teasing as you always do while inwardly beating yourself over getting your hopes up.

How could you ever think a boy as lovely as Changmin would love you, after all? How could such perfection ever fall for you, someone with barely a hint of Changmin’s grace and fire? How could you be so foolish as to even think that way?

Changmin drops you off at the front of your dorm like he always does, smiles like he always does, hugs you like he always does. He’s as close as he always is, never more than a few feet away, yet even wrapped in his embrace, you feel further apart from him than ever.

You watch him walk away from just outside your dorm, waiting for the last possible moment to slip inside. Something’s different about him, something strange. Lost in your own disappointment and embarrassment, though, you can’t put your finger on it.

It isn’t until hours later that you realize he wasn’t dancing as he disappeared into the night.

. . .

~ younghoon

When Changmin walks into the room and immediately collapses on the wooden floorboards, the door swinging shut behind him with a bang, Younghoon knows something is wrong even before his friend’s head thumps against the ground with a loud noise that probably won’t mean good things for his few remaining brain cells. Judging by Changmin’s prone position, though, he doesn’t seem to care. And anyway, his brain cells have been malfunctioning ever since he met you. Younghoon doesn’t think losing a few of them will be too big of an issue.

Younghoon shuts the lid of his laptop with a brief sigh, resigning himself to a night of consoling an angsty Changmin and not catching up on all of the episodes of the dramas he’s missed. “So what happened with Y/N?” he asks, making sure to infuse his voice with as much exasperation as it can hold.

“How do you know it was with Y/N?” Changmin asks, voice muffled against the floor.

Younghoon snorts. Even after all this time, Changmin is still as dumb as ever. “Any time you get like this, it’s because of Y/N,” he says. “So tell me what happened.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Changmin mumbles, picking his head up off the ground just enough to look at Younghoon. He opens his mouth to talk, then shuts it. His lips press together and he raises his head further, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes with a groan.

“I’m waiting,” Younghoon sings, barely able to disguise his eager impatience.

Changmin scowls, which sends chills down Younghoon’s back, but he thankfully starts talking. “We went to dinner,” he begins, “at that ramen place. You know, the one right across campus?”

“Is this important?” Younghoon interrupts, then puts his hands up when Changmin gives him a death glare. Better not to anger the squirrel further. “Uh, never mind. Continue.”

“Okay, well, we went to dinner. And Y/N paid by throwing their card at the waiter.” Changmin’s lips jut out. “Then we left and were walking back and… I was dancing? Y/N was playing music? And, uh, we were kind of dancing together at some point when we got on campus and like, before, I told them I’d only say they were a good dancer if they could trip me up so Y/N actually just leapt at me and then we fell over and they were on top of me and, uh, we started laughing until…”

Oh, God. This is just a K-drama in real life. Younghoon leans forward, bunching blankets into his hand with a vice grip, waiting for the climax that he knows is going to come. “Until?” he prompts when Changmin stays silent.

Changmin takes a deep breath. “Until we realized what position we were in,” he squeaks. His head thumps back to the floor.

Younghoon shifts on the bed, now clutching his pillow as he tries desperately not to scream. “Tell me you kissed,” he says, voice strangled. “Tell me you fucking kissed. You better have.”

He better have, or Younghoon is going to pull a Changmin and start biting things.

Changmin rolls over and stares at the ceiling for a solid second in silence. For that one blissful moment, Younghoon really thinks that a stupid smile is going to break across his dumb best friend’s face, that he’s going to start waxing poetic about how your lips felt against his, soft and pillowy and so much better than he imagined (because there’s no way Changmin hasn’t imagined kissing you with how deep he’s fallen, absolutely no fucking way).

Then Changmin screams.

Years of growing up together have taught Younghoon which Changmin screams mean excitement or sadness or every emotion in between. This scream is nothing good. There is no happiness in Changmin’s raw vocal cords, no hidden joy in his tightly shut eyes, only pure angst and disappointment and frustration palpable in the screech that’s echoing between the dorm walls.

Younghoon heaves the pillow in his hand and throws it at his best friend. He picks up a nearby stuffed animal and throws it too. Then he throws another. And another. And another.

Changmin just takes it, soft things bouncing off his body into random corners of the room. His eyes are still squinched shut as though seeing nothing will erase the angst undoubtedly coursing through his blood. But Younghoon knows better.

“You fucking idiot,” he snaps when he’s run out of things to throw (hell, he even went so far as to throw Changmin’s Annabelle doll too). “You, Ji Changmin, are a fucking idiot.”

A muffled “I know” sounds under the pillow, which Changmin has taken and put on top of his face. He says something else that Younghoon can’t hear.

“Take that pillow off your face,” he says, feeling more like a long-suffering parent than a best friend (is this how his mom felt every time he did something stupid? If so, he’s now gained a whole new level of appreciation for her). “I can’t hear you.”

“I wanted to kiss them!” Changmin wails, sitting up. The pillow drops off his face, landing on the ground with a sad flop that Younghoon thinks very much represents Changmin’s current state of being. “I wanted to, but then their phone started playing the next song and it just broke the moment and I actually started thinking, what if Y/N doesn’t like me, what if I’m reading everything wrong, what if –”

“Ji Changmin.” Younghoon cuts in before Changmin goes completely off his head. “You are undoubtedly the dumbest human being I have ever had the displeasure of knowing for over a decade.”

“I –”

“I thought I was the dumb one in this friendship,” Younghoon continues, refusing to let Changmin even get a word in. “I thought I was the stupid one – I get worse grades than you, I have made questionable choices, the only things that run through my mind are anime and bread, but you – I have no words for you.” It’s Younghoon’s turn to flop facedown, though on his bed and not the floor. “You idiot.”

Silence. Then – “What if Y/N doesn’t like me, though?”

Younghoon very nearly groans as he picks his head out of his blankets, but the quivering note in Changmin’s voice keeps him from voicing as much of his frustration as he would like. “Ji Changmin,” he says carefully. “I’m dumb, unobservant, and I know I didn’t realize I liked my own partner before we had that confrontation, but even I’m smart enough to tell how head over heels Y/N is for you.”

More silence. Then Changmin speaks again. “I moved first,” he confesses softly. “I kind of twitched and I think Y/N took that as me not liking it, and then I just made things worse by pretending nothing happened.”

“You need to clear that up,” Younghoon says. “Talk. Admit that you really have feelings. Suggest a date. I don’t know what exactly you need to do, but I do know that if you let this go because you’re scared of rejection, you’re going to regret it for a long, long time.”

There’s still a pout on Changmin’s lips, his eyes wide and soft and sad, but there’s a slight steel to his gaze now, a sliver of determination glinting on his face as he nods the slightest bit. “Okay,” he mumbles. “Okay.”

Younghoon breathes a sigh of relief. “Please get this done within the next week,” he says, opening his laptop again. “I can’t stand the two of you pining any longer than that. And also, you’re picking up all the stuffed animals on the ground. I don’t care if I threw them, you caused me to throw them and you can’t deny that you deserved it.”

Changmin grumbles but he does as he’s told, tossing the soft things littering the ground back onto their respective beds. Younghoon just sighs, turning his attention back to his abandoned drama. If his best friend doesn’t get his shit together, he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands. In fact, some preventative measures might be needed. And he knows who’s ready to provide.

He opens the schemers group chat.

. . .

~ eric

Eric has done his absolute best to avoid acting like Kevin his whole life – look, he might be a nice person, but he’s a complete and utter mess – but when he reads Younghoon’s account of what apparently happened between you and Changmin earlier tonight, he feels the sudden urge to start screeching as loudly as Kevin does when things fail.

He looks at the texts one more time. Maybe he read something wrong. Maybe the ‘he didn’t kiss y/n’ actually says ‘he kissed y/n’ instead. Maybe his brain is just malfunctioning at a scale it has never attained before (which is insane, considering the heights of stupidity he’s already reached in his less than twenty years of life).

bread boy: so I ask him if he kissed y/n bc why wouldn’t he. why the fuck wouldn’t he

bread boy: and he just screams

bread boy: DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?

bread boy: H E D I D N T K I S S Y / N

There’s more after that, stuff that Eric doesn’t want to read a second time for fear of losing more brain cells than he can afford. Anyway, the little read by one message at the bottom of the screen has just turned to read by two, and Eric has a sinking feeling he knows what’s coming next. He counts one, two, three seconds of silence.

Then an ear-splitting scream sounds from the floor beneath him.

Yep. That’s Kevin, expressing all the emotions Eric can’t because Sunwoo is passed out on his bed not three feet away.

In lieu of a scream, a pained groan bursts from Eric’s throat and muffles itself into the pillow he’s pressed against his face. He’s always done his best to be understanding of people who can’t as readily admit they’re in love as he can – he knows he’s somewhat of a special case, really – but this level of dancing (literally) around each other is reaching levels of idiocy that even he can’t process.

moon boy: my ra just yelled at me and threatened to write me up

moon boy: but in my defense

moon boy: I cannot handle this

skater boy: neither can i

skater boy: I’m going to talk to y/n

This last text is the reason why the next day, at precisely one in the afternoon, Eric is waiting on the quad just outside the literature building, sitting on soft green grass that looks a little too bright for his current frustrated brain to be happy about.

After a few minutes of waiting, you show up, looking very tired, slightly unhinged, and in general like you spent the whole night thinking about a certain doe-eyed dancer. Eric raises an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance when you flop down on the grass. “Thought too hard about Changmin last night?”

Your head whips around so fast Eric’s surprised your neck didn’t snap. “How did you know?”

“It’s so obvious,” Eric replies. “You only get this worked up when Changmin does or doesn’t do something. So what happened this time?”

You narrow your eyes. “You already know,” you state. Not a question. A statement.

Embarrassment floods Eric’s face, but he just raises his arms and shrugs. “Guilty,” he says, mind racing for a way not to tell you about the schemer group chat. “Changmin spilled everything to Younghoon and he texted me to rant. So.” He leans forward, fixing you with a stare that won’t allow you to question his story. “That was a moment worthy of an entire fucking K-drama. So why didn’t you kiss?”

With a groan, you lie flat down on the quad. “Wouldn’t K-dramas drag it on, just for the sake of angst and extra views?” you mumble.

“Y/N.”

You groan. “I just… I wanted to,” you defend. “But my fucking phone was a cockblocker and it started playing a new song that ruined the god damn moment and, well…”

“Well?” Eric prompts.

Your eyes turn from staring up at the sky to looking at him. Something that reeks suspiciously of fear dances in your gaze. “I don’t know. For a moment, when we were just looking at each other, I really thought he might like me the same way. But, just… how could anyone like me that much? Especially him?”

For a second, Eric debates whether or not to say the words sitting on the tip of his tongue. They’ll reveal a part of himself that he doesn’t necessarily want you to know about. What he wants to say could sour your relationship, maybe even ruin it completely.

But his mind chooses this moment to throw caution to the wind, and the words slip out of Eric’s mouth before he can stop them.

“I liked you.”

Eric can pinpoint the exact moment his three-word sentence registers in your brain. Your eyes display a myriad of emotions – blank, then confused, then surprised, then something that looks like sadness and disappointment and terror rolled into one messy ball. You sit up. “Run that by me one more time,” you say slowly. “Tell me I heard you wrong.”

“I didn’t lie,” Eric says, trying to soothe the tiny pinprick of hurt in his heart. It’s much less painful than he expected, which is nice, but it’s still there. “I liked you the moment I helped you up after I hit you with my skateboard, but it was so easy to tell you were in love with Changmin that I wasn’t going to say anything about it.”

You put your face in your hands. “Eric,” you say, voice muffled behind your fingers, “just… why? How? We didn’t even know each other back then.”

Eric sighs. “I’ve always fallen in love too easily and with the smallest things,” he says. Years of working through this phenomenon have produced a coherent explanation that rolls off his tongue with ease. “Small stuff. A smile, or, like, a laugh. One time, I fell in love with this guy because of the way he tapped his pencil against his lips when he was thinking. I don’t know, you might just call it a crush, but… I don’t think crushes are supposed to be as deep as they feel for me.” He shrugs. “I fell in love with you because of your voice.”

Your eyes peek out just between your fingers. “My voice?”

“Yeah.” He plucks at the grass around him, nervously trying to give his hands something to do. “It’s… your voice is really soothing. Gentle. When you talked to me for the first time, it felt like… it felt like I could drown in it.” The words make him want to cringe, but they’re real. They’re truly how he felt, how he still feels, a little bit. “Really. I swear I’m not lying.”

This time, you fully put your hands down when you speak. “Are you… are you still in love with me?” you ask in measured tones, though he can still hear the slight shake in your words.

Eric debates whether or not to lie, then settles on the truth. You’d probably see through him, anyway. “A little,” he answers honestly. “But this isn’t about me. I fall in and out of love easily, that’s just part of who I am. You’re in love with Changmin, and this is about you and him. You just asked how anyone could fall in love with you, and I just wanted to tell you that it’s entirely possible for someone to fall in love with someone as amazing as you are. If I felt this way about your voice, imagine how Changmin must feel about your everything.”

Now you’re back to hiding your face in your hands, though it looks a bit like you’re holding back tears this time around. Eric waits in silence for you to gather yourself.

“Why are you helping me, if you liked me like… like that?” you finally ask, looking up once more. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Eric shrugs. “You’re worthy of love,” he says. “I knew I was going to get over this… crush sort of love at some point. You, on the other hand, are definitely going to regret letting Changmin go, if you do. You’re so obvious.” He snorts. “But yeah. You’re worthy of love. And I think Changmin can give you that sort of love that you deserve.”

Soft steel enters your eyes as your spine straightens slightly, exhibiting a determination that wasn’t there before. “Eric,” you say carefully, “anyone who ends up falling in love with you will be the lucky one. Not the other way around.”

It’s Eric’s turn to get shy. “Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbles, uselessly trying to swallow his smile and hide the pink rising in his cheeks.

The hug that you give him afterward feels sweet, soft, gentle in the grip of your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, Eric,” you say when you pull away. “Remember what I said, yeah? You’ll find someone who falls as deeply for you as you do for them.”

“Only if you remember what I said,” Eric bargains, smiling. “Talk to Changmin.”

A tiny sigh leaves your lips, but you nod. “I will.” Your smile turns slightly scared, but the soft steel is still in your eyes, brightening your gaze. “See you later?”

Eric prays that the light in your eyes never fades. “See you,” he says softly.

You turn, just about to stand and walk away. Eric’s about to walk off himself when you spin back around. “Hey, Eric. For the record, you’re a great friend.” The smile on your lips is genuine, lovely, brilliant in the afternoon sunlight. “I’m glad to know you.”

Something blooms in Eric’s chest, erasing the pinprick of pain that came with your initial rejection. With those words, his heart grows warm, full, happy.

There’s no hurt left.

Eric smiles back, this time with full sincerity. “I’m glad to know you too.”

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin can’t believe that he isn’t even dating you, but he’s already gotten the heart-stopping text that consists of four deceptively simple and terrifying words: we need to talk.

He knows what you’re referring to. After all, the mere thought of your lips so close to his, breath puffing slightly against his skin and eyes sparkling under the starlight, brings butterflies to his stomach and makes his brain turn to mush.So he agrees, mostly because Younghoon knocked some sense into him, but also because he needs some closure or he thinks he’s going to explode.

A quick ok! when are you free? (hopefully) doesn’t hint at any of the fear squeezing his heart into the next dimension, and as a result, he’s standing on the empty green quad just outside the literature building, feet tapping uncontrollably against the ground. A few students glance at him as they pass by, but he can’t register their stares. There’s only one person on his mind.

You appear just a few minutes after he’s arrived. Somehow, his heart speeds up even more when you lock eyes with him – it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. “Hi,” he says, barely able to keep the squeak out of his voice.

“Hi,” you reply, carefully coming to a stop just in front of him. “I, uh…”

Silence falls as the two of you look anywhere but at each other. Changmin can already feel the heat creeping up his cheeks. “Um,” he says, trying to breach the insurmountable gap building between you two, “I…”

A voice that sounds a little too much like Younghoon’s screams in his head just confess! as you look up hesitantly. “I didn’t want to move,” he begins lamely. “Last time. When, um, you know.”

The slightest dip of your head indicates comprehension. Nothing else in your face changes, save for a slight sparkle beginning to grow in your eye that gives Changmin a little bit of hope. “I got startled by the music from your phone,” he continues, voice still small but growing in strength. “And, um. It made me start thinking again. Because I like you, I like you so much, but, well, I just didn’t think you could ever like me that way. So I moved.”

Your gaze has dipped down once more, focused intently on your hands tightly clasped together. Then, just as Changmin’s beginning to fear the worst, you snap your head up. Your eyes glimmer with something that feels dangerously like the hope beginning to bubble in Changmin’s heart. “You like me?” you ask, gentle tones strained, desperate for something it seems you can barely even dream of.

Changmin swallows. “So much that it hurts,” he admits, voice softer than ever.

One terrifying second passes in silence after his admission, then a smile breaks across your face that’s so blinding, so bright it could rival the golden afternoon sunlight streaming from the sky. “Come here, Changmin,” you say. Your fingers twitch in a gesture he’s shown you so many times, and, like a magnet, he steps forward, following your words as though there’s nothing he’d rather do in his life.

And like a wave, like water crashing against the rocks at the bottom of a cliff, you surge forward, gripping the front of his shirt and pressing your lips to his with a gentle strength that physically knocks the breath out of Changmin’s chest.

Kissing you is everything he imagined and more, Changmin thinks once his brain catches up to the present. Your lips are still locked with his, eyes open just enough to gaze up at him through your eyelashes. Changmin can feel his own eyes beginning to flutter shut with heady bliss, but he forces them to stay just slightly open, just enough that he can see how you’re sparkling in the sunshine.

You taste of blooming flowers, of roses scenting the air, springtime, clear skies with not a single cloud marring the expanse of blue. His eyes finally close as he gains the courage to raise a hand to your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. Warmth blossoms in his heart as he deepens the kiss and you respond with gentle fervor, fingers still clutching the front of his shirt.

Air forces you to break away, shy eyes unable to gaze at each other for longer than a few seconds at a time. Heat has risen fully up Changmin’s cheeks – he’s sure his ears are bright red – and you can’t stop the smile that’s spread across your face, embarrassed and lovely all at once.

“I like you too,” you confess suddenly, as though the fact that you just kissed him didn’t give that completely away. “So much. I never thought that you’d feel the same.”

“Your smile is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen,” Changmin protests, ears burning even more as you cover your face, flustered. “I don’t think there’s any way I couldn’t feel the same.”

“Glad to hear that.” You uncover your mouth, letting Changmin bear the full force of your grin. “Because I’ve said the same thing about your smile to Kevin a million times.”

Changmin giggles, this time hiding behind his own hand. “Our friends must hate us,” he says.

Your eyes crinkle with laughter. Changmin thinks he’s in heaven. “They must,” you agree. “I mean, we started interacting with a… Kevin’s calls it a fucking mating dance, but, uh…”

“Younghoon calls it a cult ritual,” Changmin supplies, giggling as you snort with laughter. “But yeah. We must have put them through a lot, huh?”

“True.” Eyes sparkling like rose petals in the sunshine gaze into his with a softness that makes him want to melt. “Doesn’t matter, though, does it?” You smile even more widely, if that’s possible. “I’m glad that we met. That we’re here now, no matter how strange the beginning.”

Changmin’s smile turns smaller, lips no longer stretching as widely, but holding even more warmth than before as he raises a hand. This time, though, his fingers don’t twitch. He simply holds out his palm. “Dance with me, Y/N?” he asks.

When you tangle your fingers with his, Changmin feels flowers burst into bloom in his chest. Sunlight sparkles like glittering rain around your grinning figure as he twirls you on the grass, eyes crinkled and smiling with laughter, so much pure laughter that echoes in the air and mixes with the sunshine to create a golden warm aura of bliss.

(“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks you two reach the front of your dorm. You’ve stopped dancing in favor of holding each other’s hands softly, tightly, gently, and Changmin thinks he’s going to melt in your gaze when you nod with the most brilliant smile on your face.

If the exchange ends in a kiss that feels like a dream, a dream of flower petals tinted with gold raining around him as warm as your fingers interlaced with his, well, Changmin doesn’t mind if Younghoon teases him about it later. He doesn’t mind the smirks, the nudges, the one too many pokes in his side.

His heart is too busy blooming, after all, blooming with thoughts of your love and your smile.)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 punch in the face for this couple for giving me so much pain while writing them)

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mangolover · 3 years

Note

Hello! May I request prompt 6 with Bennett from genshin impact? Gender neutral reader. Thank you!

Hello!

Thank you for your request!

I really just wanted to do some “angsty fluff” for Benny since I love him too much and want to meet his dads.

Enjoy! 💖

50 Followers Drabble Event, prompt #6 with Bennett

If you wish to check out the offical “50 Followers Drabble Event”, press here

Title: Two Minuses Make a Plus

Prompt: “Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Bennett x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff (with a bit of angst if you look into it deeply enough)

Warnings: a bit of sad thoughts, strong language

Spoilers: None I believe

Word Count: 1200+ (once again, i love him)

Description: Both of you were unlucky and always casted aside to walk the world alone. Two minuses. So when you finally met and combined your minuses, you got a plus, a nice treasure and bond that not even bad luck can break.

As someone who believes they are unlucky, I really feel like this is self-insert. 👀

BOUKEN DA BOUKEN!

Adventure with Benny would be epic!

Enjoy!

Two Minuses Make a Plus

You were always casted aside in life. Either it be an adventure, hanging out with people you considered friends or a simple family gathering, you were never truly a part of it. Just a ghost in the background, possibly not even visible in the pictures.

Still, you pushed on, smiled through tears, laughed through bubbling pain in your chest. You were sure you would grow out of your bad luck eventually. No one can be unlucky their whole life, right? Right??

You were a prisoner in your own body, your own bad luck holding a you captive. People always said you should value freedom the most, but only thing you could associate with freedom from your cell was the city you lived in. The Anemo Archon himself gave everyone a choice to be free here. And yet, deep down, you weren’t granted that choice. You weren’t in control of your life. You aren’t in control.

In order to finally take the wheel, you decided to join any adventure team. Possibly the smallest one they had, the one where you wouldn’t be thrown on the sidelines like a plastic bag.

And maybe it was your luck, even if many would beg to differ, but you found the perfect one. Benny’s adventure team. The smallest one they had, with only one permanent member. According to many stories you heard in the guild that day, when you proudly and happily announced that you were joining Bennett’s team, it was laced with bad luck and failure. But it didn’t make you sad or concerned in the least to hear that.

If anything, it made you kinda hopeful. You were not the only one with awful bad luck then, huh? Maybe you two will have luck together, or maybe you two will die on an adventure, with smiles on your faces because you both finally met the mirror image of yourself.

And so, the adventuring began. First it was small, trying to work out the dynamics between you two. Bennett was skilled with sword, while you on the other hand have just picked up a bow after so long. When you were younger, you would go and try hunting with your father, but it would result in empty stomachs or with injuries, so your father just benched you.

You had fun and you were sure Bennett had fun too or maybe it was just both of yours carefully plastered masks of happiness. What surprised everyone in guild the most was when even after two full months, you weren’t quitting. And you weren’t injured in any of yours joined outing, but rather when you were on your own.

You could’ve lived with that. You felt like everything was finally falling into place, slowly but steadily. It wasn’t a smooth ride and it will never be one, but maybe the rough patches were finally left somewhere behind in the distance, greeting the sun as it was setting. Casting it’s orange, purple and pink hues, scattering them across the scenery.

And as the third month passed by, Bennett finally agreed to take you in a domain where he heard from his good friends Razor and Prinzessin Fischl, a great treasure laid hidden, daring the brave and reckless ones to try and claim it.

You two didn’t fit in any of those categories. You weren’t the brave and successful adventures, the big ones that can die peacefully, knowing their stories will be told for years to come. Knowing that their comrades will raise a toast to them instead of letting a tear slip out of their eye and land on their casket. You weren’t reckless either. Knowing full well what your bad luck can cause, you two were always a bit too careful. But bad things just seemed to follow you like duckling it’s mother.

You were both the unlucky ones. The two minuses. Two unlucky souls frantically looking for your luck, hoping it will appear behind a corner any second now. But it never did. At least not until now.

You two made a vow. You will either get the treasure or die trying, your bad luck be damned.

So you ventured deep into the ruins, avoiding every trap, making it to the treasure room without a single scratch. But this was the real test. You and Bennett looked at each other before you thrust out your hand. Both of you smiled and silently prayed that this was your lucky day as Benny placed his hand in yours.

You opened the chest with closed eyes, neither daring to look in case the shine that illuminated your faces was just your imagination, but at last you opened them and let out a high-pitched sound, prompting Bennett to open his eyes out of concern.

There, in front of you both stood a luxurious chest filled with gold and other goodies. You both threw your hands around the other, only to pull away after a few moments with faint pink color on your cheeks.

You filled your bags and started making your way back to Mondstadt. If only the journey wasn’t so long. But the sun started setting and you decided to camp out, sleep underneath the stars. It was your luck day either way, you can afford to have some fun, right?

If only you two were a bit more reckless, the night could’ve gone in a whole different way, but instead you both argued who would keep the guard while the other one slept. You both ended up on that duty in the end. But being so close to Bennett filled you up with warmth. Maybe you started to catch feelings for this white-haired boy with two dashing emeralds as his eyes.

And while you were admiring his beauty, you succumbed to the sleep that awaited in the back of your being, taking you over and giving you the sweetest dreams yet.

You woke up when the sun appeared at the horizon, only to see Bennett next to you, his back pressed to a tree, a smile immediately made its way to your lips.

“Good morning” you mumbled and his gemstones settled on you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Morning,” he paused and looked to in front of him at the hot and rising star. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

You were mortified, your cheeks heating up in an instant. Oh no! What in the hell did you say?

“What did I say?” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he was just messing with you.

“Well, you were mumbling for the most part. But when you weren’t, you said that you really like me.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. You messed up, huh?

“But that’s amazing!” he turned to you with the biggest smile on his lips and grabbed your hands in his.

“I really like you too! And my dads like you too! Isn’t that just amazing? Haha!” he was like a kid that was given some candy and you could feel the butterflies bursting in your stomach.

Soon you both started laughing uncontrollably, full of affection and happiness. You were both finally feeling accepted. You both felt like you finally made someone proud of you and the feeling was amazing. But the true treasure was meeting each other.

Maybe two minuses really do make a plus.

#50 followers drabble event #genshin impact drabble #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact bennett #genshin impact benny #genshin bennett #genshin benny #genshin bennett x reader #bennett x reader #genshin impact bennett x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin bennett fluff #bennett fluff #genshin impact bennett fluff #🥭#tw sad thoughts #tw mention of injury #tw bad thoughts

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adrianasunderworld · 4 years

Text

More headcanons for the boys: family edition

Theres just a smidge of angst, just a smidge.

Raihan

Was a bit of a mama's boy when he was little. Even now his mom still calls him "her handsome baby boy."

Raihan comes from a long line of gym leaders. Hammerlocke gym has been run by his family for generations. His father was leader before him, like his mother before him, and so on. The logo of the gym is their family crest.

Raihan has two older sisters. They went on the gym challenge a few years before him and everyone was certain one of them would be gym leader. It wasn't until Raihan earned his badge from his dad first try that it was decided Raihan would be his successor.

His oldest sister now lives in Kalos with her wife and is a duchess in the battle chateau . The other sister works with Raihan on preserving Galars history in Hammerlockes vaults and runs their archives.

His father always gave off the impression of being a super strict and imposing parent. The kind that never smiles or wont accept anything less than perfection. Leon honestly felt sorry for his rival when he first met the man. However his dad is honestly pretty nice and almost as chilled out as his son. He just takes a bit of time to warm up to. The kind of guy that would quietly slip the kids a piece of chocolate when they're down.

Leon: Dude, your dad must be strict, I'm sorry bro.

Raihan, who sees the man drink his tea in a dragonite print robe and fuzzy slippers while watching cartoons with him every morning: wut?

His mom is probably one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. The kind of smile that can brighten a room and is always determined to do her best. She came from a Spanish speaking island region and used to travel from place to place for training and challenging gyms all over.

It's how she met her husband. She challenged the gym, wiped the floor with him, and he's had heart eyes ever since. But it wasn't until he beat her in a battle did they get married.

Is old friends with Kabu, who she met when she traveled to Hoenn.

One of her favorite memories of little Raihan is that he used to watch Pride and Prejudice with her. No one is really sure why he loved watching it, but she thinks some of the visuals of it reminded him of his favorite story books, so baby Raihan found it relaxing to watch.

Piers

Piers doesn't have many good memories of his parents. They were both too young and irresponsible for kids.

Dad was never around and mom eventually left spikemuth when Marnie was barely two years old. Hes glad Marnie was too little to remember them.

They didn't have much family that could take them in.They were put in the custody of their moms aunt, who ran the gym. She did her best to raise them well, but was always busy trying to keep Spikemuth gym afloat. So Piers usually had to take care of Marnie.

Didn't have very many friends as a result. All the kids in town knew if you invited Piers, you got Marnie too. They were a package deal and no one ever wanted to get stuck babysitting.

When Piers was able to go out on his own, he would take his pokemon to the grassy areas outside town to train.

Even though they had a low budget (the gym didn't produce very much income) their aunt always made an effort to take them down to Hammerlocke every couple weeks and treat them to dinner and a movie.

Auntie sometimes had business in Hammerlocke to meet with the gym leader, and would give piers the money to take Marnie out. Sometimes Raihan would tag along and show them all his favorite spots in town. They weren't childhood besties or anything, but Piers always thought it was nice to have at least one person his age to hang out with.

He learned to battle by watching their aunt battle challengers. He really wanted to do the gym challenge like so many other kids his age. But he lacked the confidence to go and even then he was to worried about Marnie to try.

Once she found out, his aunt was not going to hear it. "You're young and allowed to want something. Marnie will be fine, and she'll look up to you even more. Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't go." She wrote an endorsement letter and sent Piers on his way. Despite that he doesn't think he was as good a gym leader as his aunt, Piers was always grateful for everything she did for him.

She gave Piers his zigzagoon. In turn Piers caught Morpeko to keep Marnie company while he was gone.

Unfortunately, shortly after the tournament, his aunt was forced to step down due to her health. Leaving Piers to inherit the gym. She did her best to guide him, but it was still a lot for him.

Shes not around anymore, but Piers sees a lot of their aunt in Marnie. To him, shes a better heir to her legacy than him. Hes knows deep down Auntie would say that was a load a crap, Piers is just as good a trainer and the reason Marnie is where she is now. But it's always been a mental hurdle he's never quite been able to jump over.

Leon

Single parent household. It's been just his mom and grandparents for years. Leon and Hops dad passed in an accident when Hop was a baby. Their mom always says they were the spitting image of him.

Their grandparents ran a berry farm. They still own it, but don't work in it anymore, due to age and the fact that Leon makes more than enough to support their whole family.

Hop was still too young, but Leon still remembers how hard things were after his dad passed. Both emotionally and financially for their mom.

Their grandma used to come every day and watch them while their mom went to work in wedgehurst. Leon was never expected to look after Hop, but he was still very protective of him for a while, and wanted very badly to be helpful.

Leon would help his grandpa by doing chores on the property for spending money.

Grandpa was the one who got Leon his Charmander. He knew how badly Leon wanted to be a trainer. So he called in a favor to an old friend of his who was a breeder, and gave Leon a pokemon egg for his birthday.

Once that egg hatched, their house has never known peace. Leon ran everywhere with charmander with baby Hop waddling after. Grandma gave him an earful once when he set the fence of her garden on fire with his antics.

Grandma is an old friend of Magnolia, which is how he met Sonia. She would bring the boys to the professor's house with her for play dates.

Sonia always gave baby Hop all her attention, because he was so cute and huggable. There are several baby pictures of Hop with Sonias heart clips in his hair.

Leon was always roped into playing whatever Sonia wanted. She used to have a real wooden highchair for her baby dolls and they would stick Hop in it to play house. Their grandmas did not find it cute when Hop got stuck in it.

Leon and Hops mom has always been very proud and supportive of their accomplishments, though she does tend to go overboard. Hence why the living room is the Leon hall of fame.

Once while on the gym challenge, Leon and Sonia were able to take a break for a few days, so they went home to see everyone and Raihan tagged along. Leon's mom chatted his ear off about all the cute and embarrassing stories of Leon when he was little. And yes, she took out the baby album. Roughly a decade later and Raihan has still not let him live it down.

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otonymous · 5 years

Text

Lucien and The Lure of Forbidden Fruit (MLQC Character Analysis)

Hello dear readers!

I’m sure that everyone knows by now that Lucien is my favourite MLQC boy (even after the events of chapter 13), and I’d like to take this opportunity to explain why. Needless to say, this analysis will be lengthy and include lots of spoilers (for certain Lucien-related dates and the main story, up to and including chapter 14), so the rest will be posted after the break!

Please keep in mind that I know next to nothing about what’s happened in the story beyond the new chapters released in the English server, so apologies if my theories prove incorrect to those who know better 😆

In response to the lovely Anon, on a superficial level, Lucien is exactly my type: tall, dark and handsome, and a genius to boot. I love my men intelligent with a side of suave, someone who isn’t afraid of wearing his feelings on his sleeve — and this sexy professor delivers. But I swear my reasons for loving Lucien extend beyond this paragraph 😂 Please do me the favour of reading on!

@blueanimewriting, I see Lucien’s character as being quite complex, and labels such as “yandere” alone are not enough to encapsulate him as a whole. Let us consider what we know of Lucien (in the English server) so far.

Lucien, aka Ares, is a high-ranking agent of the Black Swan Collective (BSC) — a super shady secret society with equally shady ambitions for the world, whose plans seem to hinge on MC’s cooperation. In Chapter 13, it is revealed that Lucien’s kindness and attentiveness to the MC was all part of his plan to lure her into a trap on behalf of the BSC. On the surface, everything about this screams betrayal. But is it really? More on this later.

Going back to @blueanimewriting’s question, a yandere is typically seen as a character with a sweet exterior who is capable of engaging in extremely violent and deranged behaviour when it comes to anything/anyone who challenges their relationship with the love interest. In my understanding of this archetype, the aggressive behaviour typically doesn’t reveal itself until love has been established, in that either the yandere realizes they are in love or are already in a relationship.

As we’ve seen in Chapter 13, Lucien is already highly respected and feared within the BSC, where he is known especially for his ruthlessness. The man won’t hesitate to dispatch Black Swan minions with little more than a flick of his hand, teleporting them to god knows where (we just know that the thought alone is enough to make them shake — remember Josie after her little illusory arson trick in Chap 13-1?). The man even smiled when his eye got split open as punishment for dragging his feet on his mission and not capturing MC. There is little doubt that Lucien is no stranger to violence, whether he’s the source of it, or at its mercy - a fact that most definitely precedes his relationship with MC.

The professor’s villainous behaviour does not come as a result of him falling in love, as is typical with a yandere. He is a man tasked with a goal, and his actions must be interpreted through that lens. Did he stalk MC by moving in right next door? Absolutely. Was it out of love? Probably not from the outset; he likely needed to monitor her as part of his mission. Did Lucien ever direct violent behaviour towards other potential suitors for MC’s affections? I don’t recall him ever behaving aggressively towards Victor, Gavin, or Kiro. Lucien’s deception and manipulation seems to stem solely from his mission, not from love.

Is Lucien innately evil, simply “born to be bad” so to speak? It’s hard to be certain at this point with the information we have. What we DO know is that the boy grew up without both parents at a young age, and may have been deprived of the opportunity to learn about proper human interaction — love, in particular. Hence, Lucien learns about affection by watching old Hollywood films in the cinema until the early morning hours, and reads books on how to be a good boyfriend. He asks MC to teach him how to love in his New Light Date. Perhaps it was just a bit of shameless flirting. Or perhaps, he was being completely sincere.

Of the sincerity of his affection for MC, however, there can be no doubt. Scattered throughout various dates and the story itself, we find instances of Lucien fighting his growing feelings for her. In his Aquarium Date, he admits that he has become too involved with the girl, despite knowing he should have kept his distance. In his Midnight Date, we witness Lucien ordering himself not to think of MC whilst clutching his chest in pain, the moment clearly illustrating that love had “taken root in his heart.” We also catch a glimpse of the professor’s true feelings in his aptly named True Love Date, in which Lucien tries his hardest to avoid MC (likely to prevent himself from falling even more in love with her), and fails spectacularly, displaying some extremely jealous behaviour when he mistakenly thinks she has feelings for someone else.

And while I could be wrong (depending on Ares’ ultimate agenda), the strongest evidence of Lucien’s love for MC would be the fact that he dragged his feet for so long on his mission, and still let her go in the end. If he was a total villain through and through, would it have been likely that MC would’ve escaped simply by saying that Lucien owed her a thank-you gift? I think not. Her ass would’ve been teleported back to BSC headquarters so fast.

So, we get to the crux of the matter, the reason why MC’s romance with Lucien/Ares will prove to be one of, if not the most, heart-wrenching ones in the game. Their relationship is star-crossed: Romeo and Juliet, Evolver-style. Lucien knows full well he was not to fall in love with her but couldn’t help himself and did it anyway. MC obviously had feelings for Lucien, and even in the face of his betrayal, still initially refused to accept it (“...you are not Lucien. He would never harm me. Ares and Lucien have nothing to do with each other!”).

The very image of the blood-red Lycoris blooming in MC’s dream at the beginning of Chapter 9 can be interpreted as referencing this ill-fated romance: when the flower blooms, the leaves have already fallen, and when the leaves grow, the flower has already wilted — the two can never be together. In the same vein, Lucien and MC are desperately in love with each other, but are standing on very different sides of a war that is gradually brewing. This is the stuff of angst-filled romantic dreams, for everyone knows forbidden fruit is the sweetest. It is also one of my favourite romantic tropes.

Yes, Lucien manipulated MC’s feelings in order to advance his own goals. But the professor never anticipated that he would fall victim to his own feelings for her. And that was the moment when his world was no longer black and white, cut and dried. He let his emotions get in the way of his mission, and was sorely punished for it. But perhaps his greatest punishment came when he had to watch his own confession of betrayal crush MC’s heart (let us not forget that look of sorrow that flashed in his eyes during Chapter 13’s showdown).

Yes, Lucien hurt us. But in doing so, he also hurt himself.

If you’re still reading at this point, 1) thank you for sticking around as I prance atop my soapbox, and 2) if you’re still not convinced, consider this: would Elex really make you fall in love with a main character only to make you hate him to pieces? Who in their right minds would blow tons of cold, hard cash on those gorgeous Lucien karmas, such as…

…if he didn’t have a way of ultimately redeeming himself in the end, however far away that is? I am a firm believer that Lucien/Ares will have a redemption arc, and that it will be absolutely fantastic when it happens. 💕

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bisexualray · 5 years

Text

To Describe Love, Chapter Two: Saudade

Summary: A morning of intimacy, an afternoon of loneliness, and an evening of reunion.

Note: Here it is! I worked so hard on this, and I’m really proud of how it turned out. This one has angst, fluff, and sm*t.

Warning: Mature themes, non-explicit sm*t.

Pairing: Jumin/Yoosung

Word Count: 10k+

ao3 | masterpost

I think you’re the kindest, sweetest, most caring and attractive soul on this earth.

It took me until now to realize my feelings because I’ve... rarely felt them before. A strong urge to just... hold you. I want to be close to you, and every day I want to make you smile. Like you told me: I love everything about you.

You’re just like your smile, Yoosung. Beautiful.

It was four in the morning when Jumin woke up and for a moment he had no idea where he was or who was in his arms.

He opened his eyes and adjusted to the darkness of the room, awaking to a short, surging fear at the unfamiliar surroundings and the unknown weight wrapped around his chest. He then suddenly grew to realize that he was at home, having had fallen asleep on the couch with someone that he loved.

The fear was replaced with a different, comfortable sensation and he smiled to himself at last night’s memories, seeing through blurred vision from the darkness his tired hand move up and down Yoosung’s back.

The room was still and quiet, quiet enough that Jumin could listen to the sound of Yoosung’s breathing and focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling against him. Yoosung, last night’s welcome guest and date, one with a smile and bright eyes that made Jumin’s head explode, holder of many titles such as friend, crush—

I w-want you to be my- my boyfriend.

This realization hit Jumin like a car and a short, breathy laugh couldn’t help but escape his mouth when he thought about how he’d fallen asleep with his boyfriend, and he could barely believe it was real, that they had their first date and their first kiss the night before and now the one he loved was asleep in his arms and he got to call him his boyfriend.

He wondered what Yoosung was dreaming about.

I- I love everything about you, Jumin.

He let out a content sigh and closed his eyes.

“I love you, too...” he whispered, and part of him pretended Yoosung was awake to hear him, his voice but a calm breath with no pitch. He considered the idea that he probably only imagined himself saying that.

He remembered the way they kissed, shy at first before gaining comfort and control and passion, enough of which to throw him onto the couch and lay in each other’s embrace. It was an incredible feeling, kissing Yoosung, like the satisfaction of completing a long-term goal, and it was something he hadn’t realized he’d wanted to do for a long time.

He licked his lips, and his eyes opened.

Among his multiple other realizations, he also realized he hadn’t brushed his teeth last night.

He hadn’t done any of his nightly routine for that matter. He was probably to blame, having had been the one to want to cuddle with Yoosung and not send him home, though he hadn’t expected to fall asleep with him, and at this point he wasn’t getting up any time soon.

Besides, he was beginning to struggle to keep his eyes open, vision fluctuating between the darkness of the room and the pitch blackness of blocked view. He felt himself falling, seemingly sinking into the couch and being pushed into a deep sleep by Yoosung mindlessly moving his arm and gliding his hand across Jumin’s chest.

Jumin let his muscles relax but kept his arms wrapped around Yoosung, breathing in his scent and taking all of it in, deciding he would tell him he loved him in the morning as he began to shut down.

You’re so warm...

He floated, drowning in a sea of endless thoughts.

If I’m so attractive, then we must be very similar. That’s not to say we don’t have our differences, but there’s no crime in that. And I believe that with our differences... we complete each other.

It was six in the morning when Jumin woke up again and for a shorter moment he had no idea where he was or who was in his arms.

He opened his eyes to a softly lit room, the light of the sunrise shining through the windows. Yoosung was still asleep on his chest, in a shifted, relieving position.

He rubbed Yoosung’s back, leaning down to place a kiss on his head. His muscles were hardly mobile with exhaustion, but he managed to get himself up and off the couch.

He felt stiff in his suit, the results of neglecting his nightly routine catching up to him. He looked down at Yoosung, sleeping comfortably on the couch, memories of the night before returning to his mind again. He thought about work, thought about Yoosung, looked back at the couch.

Taking his thoughts into consideration, he made his way toward the kitchen, toward the phone.

“I am not coming into work today.”

“What? Why?”

“I am taking a personal day. Yoosung is still a guest at my apartment, so it would be best to treat him nicely.”

“Yoosung is still there? Did he sleep over?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Um... alright. You must really like him then. I’ll call to cancel today’s meeting. And please tell me when you are available to pick up Elizabeth—my living room is covered in cat hair...”

“I can pick her up tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Is that all?”

“That is all.”

“Have fun this morning, Mr. Han.”

He hung up.

It was seven in the morning when Jumin felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind and a pair of lips press against his back.

He had finished his morning routine and the person he left to sleep in had clearly woken up, making Jumin smile at his sudden hug.

“Good morning.”

He spoke against Jumin’s back, tightening his hug before letting go for Jumin to turn around and face him. Jumin rested his hands on Yoosung’s waist and leaned down to press his lips against his neck.

“Good morning.” He placed a kiss under Yoosung’s earlobe. “You must’ve slept well.”

“I... got excited when I woke up on your couch,” Yoosung said. “It made me think of last night.”

Jumin smiled, two arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled back to look Yoosung in the eye, seeing him lean forward to suddenly kiss his nose. Jumin let out a breathy laugh, forehead resting against Yoosung’s.

“You’re cute,” he said. “I hope you enjoy breakfast this morning.”

“You’re making me breakfast?��

“The chef will.” The smile left Jumin’s face when he saw Yoosung’s do the same. “Is something wrong?”

Yoosung bit his lip and he cupped Jumin’s face, eyes locking intensely with his. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Jumin blinked.

“I thought I would spend the day with you.”

“You’re skipping work for me?”

“Yes. Unless you have class...?”

Jumin didn’t consider that. Yoosung let out a sigh, head falling to rest against Jumin’s chest and words muffled as he spoke into his shirt.

“I don’t- I don’t usually go to class, but... ah, wouldn’t that be a lot of extra work for Jaehee?” He looked up at Jumin. “I don’t wanna be a burden on- on you or her or anything—”

“You could never be a burden,” Jumin said. “If that’s what you want, I can go to work today, and you can go to class.” He kissed the top of Yoosung’s head, speaking against his hair. “I’m... going to miss you. But can we at least spend the morning together?”

Yoosung’s smile was soft and his touch was light against Jumin’s skin as he moved a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Of course we can. We don’t need the chef to make breakfast, either.”

Jumin stared down at the omurice on his plate, focusing on the smiley face made out of ketchup, and copied the expression.

He remembered the way Yoosung drew the smile with the ketchup, swirling the bottle around to form the shape. Jumin saw the image of Yoosung’s bright, happy eyes, as his own caught the red heart in the corner of the omelette.

“Made with love!” he remembered Yoosung saying as he quickly added the heart, placing the plate in front of Jumin on the table and leaning down to kiss him on top of his head.

Now he was sitting across from him, eating his own, and Jumin didn’t know how he could bring himself to take a bite.

He knew it must have been delicious, but...

“This is too cute for me to eat.”

Yoosung looked up at him, a smile on his face, rolling his eyes. He dropped his spoon onto his plate with a clink of metal.

“Don’t skip breakfast, Jumin. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“I know,” he said, taking his spoon from beside his plate and using it to cut a piece for him to eat. He brought it up to his mouth, savoring the taste that he knew was made by Yoosung, and—

“Does it taste good?”

He swallowed, locking eyes with a curious Yoosung.

“Of course it tastes good,” he said. “It’s made with love.”

The soft music from Yoosung’s phone on the kitchen counter was enough for the two of them to hear and sway along to, Yoosung’s arms wrapped around Jumin’s shoulders and head resting on his chest, pulled tight against him as Jumin hugged his waist.

It was a peaceful reminiscence of the past day, when they danced like this in the living room. Jumin ran his hand across Yoosung’s back, holding him closer, remembering the day before.

He was lost in his memories before Yoosung spoke.

“You know what I still can’t believe?”

“What?”

“That you’re my boyfriend. I didn’t believe it yesterday and I still don’t believe it today.” Yoosung let out a sigh. “I... a- a part of me thinks I’m d-dreaming.”

Jumin closed his eyes, listening to the quiet music and the soft sound of Yoosung’s voice.

“You know, I...” Yoosung continued, “I- I had... I had a crush on you for months, Jumin, so- so this- this is just...” He let out a laugh. “... unbelievable. And... that’s why I think I’m dreaming, because getting to call you my boyfriend is something I never, ever thought would happen.”

Months.

Yoosung loved him for months. He could barely believe it.

He ran through the thoughts in his head, wondering how long he had these feelings for Yoosung. Days, weeks, months of obliviousness. He sighed.

“I had a crush on you, too,” he said. “I don’t know how long I had it, and only yesterday I realized I had feelings for you, but- but I had eruptions, too. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and now I know it’s love.”

Yoosung looked up at Jumin, locking eyes with him. Jumin leaned his head down, pressing his lips against Yoosung’s skin and kissing his forehead.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “No wonder I loved you for so long.”

Jumin gave him another soft kiss before pulling back, Yoosung resting his head against his chest once again. He hugged tighter around his waist, moving along with the end of the song. Yoosung’s whisper was barely audible, but he heard it from under his chin, breath hitting his neck.

“I wonder... what the others will think.”

Jumin wished this moment never had to come, that the sun wouldn’t rise that morning and they could lay on the couch together in loving silence for as long as time went on.

Still, wishes can’t always come true.

He dreaded this moment, when Yoosung would have to walk out the door to get ready for class, go back to his apartment and leave. His heart ached, not yet ready to say goodbye.

But Yoosung was ready to leave and the door was already open, his face fallen, showing an emotion the two of them shared. They’d said their goodbyes and given their kisses, but Yoosung’s glance over his shoulder and the way they locked eyes sent him running back to Jumin to fling his arms around his neck.

Jumin caught his breath, hugging Yoosung tighter, face in the crook of his neck, Yoosung’s hand in his hair. He closed his eyes and let himself pretend the hug could last forever and Yoosung didn’t have to leave.

“I’ll miss you.”

His voice was low and quiet, eyes still closed as he rubbed his hand up and down Yoosung’s back.

“I’m gonna miss you, too...”

Yoosung’s voice was the same, soft whisper, a comforting tone, and Jumin felt like he could fall asleep in the hug, if just one of his wishes could come true and Yoosung could stay for a little longer.

He felt Yoosung relax under his touch and heard him speak again. “Can I kiss you?”

Jumin responded by ending the hug, taking three seconds before he could bring himself to pull away, and gave a warm smile. Yoosung’s hands glided across his chest before they tugged at his tie, pulling him forward for their lips to collide.

Jumin closed his eyes, humming as his lips moved against Yoosung’s, and reached up to cup his face in his hands. He ran his tongue over Yoosung’s lip and saw stars behind his eyelids.

This would be their last kiss until their date, and all Jumin wanted to do was spend the rest of the day with Yoosung, kiss like this for hours on end. Their lips parted before returning for another, warmer kiss.

Jumin ran his thumb over Yoosung’s cheek, fingers lightly brushing against his hair, and broke the kiss again to whisper.

“I love you.”

Yoosung sighed against his lips, hands running down his tie and lightly clutching his suit jacket.

“I love you so much, Jumin,” he said, lips turning up into a smile and lightly pressing against Jumin’s again for a quick kiss. “If you ever feel upset today, remember that.”

He smiled back at Yoosung, staring into his eyes.

Jumin wished this moment never had to come, that they could kiss again and again and spend more time together and he never had to let go.

Still, wishes can’t always come true.

Yoosung★: Good morning! :)

Yoosung★: The sky is very clear today. I don’t see any clouds!

Yoosung★: Ha... I have classes today but...

Yoosung★: at least I slept well last night

Yoosung★: and had my favorite breakfast this morning.

Yoosung★: I... kinda want to go back to sleep tho lol

Yoosung★: I feel like that every day T_T

Yoosung★: But today especially.

Yoosung★: ...

Yoosung★: Haha!

Yoosung★: Ah... anyways,

Yoosung★: everyone have a good day!

Yoosung★: I hope Jumin has one too. I’ll miss him today.

Yoosung★ has left the chatroom.

Yoosung★ has entered the chatroom.

Yoosung★: ajsksj

Yoosung★: I MEAN

Yoosung★: I DIDNT

Yoosung★: I MEANT LIKE I’LL MISS HIM BECAUSE

Yoosung★: BECAUSE

Yoosung★: SEVEN!!!

Yoosung★: T_T

Yoosung★ has left the chatroom.

707: Oh Jumin~ I’ll miss u so!

707: Ohhh Jumin my sweet prince!

707: I wish I could spend every minute in ur loving embrace!

Yoosung★: I love you.

Yoosung★: I... want to say that in the chatroom, but I’m afraid of Seven’s teasing...

“Come in.”

He had two new texts from Yoosung when Jaehee entered his office, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. He glanced at the messages, quickly reading them, smiling to himself before placing his phone face down on his desk.

She carried a small packet of papers in her hands as she approached his desk. “I’m... surprised you came in today, but...” she cut herself off, clearing her throat. “Reports for today’s meeting.”

“I see.”

She held it out to him.

He flipped through the papers, skimming over each paragraph, the occasional word echoing in his mind, but never sticking as to comprehend it.

I wonder... what the others will think.

He turned another page.

He could feel Jaehee’s stare on him as she spoke about the meeting. “An important group of people, asset to the company, wants to work with us...”

He’d rather spend time with Yoosung than go to a meeting. He’d choose that over anything.

In his mind, images flashed of the omurice, of Yoosung’s smile, of the decorations made of ketchup, the faraway taste of the breakfast in his mouth, made with love. He wished he could go back to that, to waking up next to him and spending the morning with him, hugging him before he left to go to class.

He was glad Yoosung was getting an education.

But Yoosung was also the entire reason why he wasn’t listening to a word Jaehee was saying, droning on in the background.

He stared at a paragraph, reading the first sentence in hopes of taking in the words.

Forty five million won in order to...

He wondered if Yoosung missed him this much.

Forty five million won...

He hoped Yoosung was able to concentrate, if he missed him as much. He wondered if he, too, was thinking about that morning.

Forty five...

Damn it.

He looked up at Jaehee, locking eyes with her for a few seconds before hers averted.

He was trying to focus on the papers, focus on the meeting, but he couldn’t get that morning out of his head, and all he could think about was Yoosung, Yoosung, Yoosung—

“Do you understand the negotiations?”

“Yes,” he answered on impulse, the words from the paragraph floating around in his mind, not stringing together. He glanced to Jaehee, to the paper, to a nearby wall, back to Jaehee.

He hoped he could get through this meeting.

Jumin Han: We can take our time to announce our relationship. I can personally ask Luciel to stop if you feel his teasing is getting to you.

Yoosung★: But still, I want to let everyone else know how much you mean to me... how much I love you...

Yoosung★: I want them to know you’re mine!

Yoosung★: But then there’s Seven’s teasing... I mean, he can get annoying but then again he’s not wrong.

Jumin Han: Are you saying you wish you could spend every minute in my loving embrace?

Yoosung★: djshja

Yoosung★: who am I kidding

Yoosung★: I just want to run to your office and give you a hug...!

Jumin Han: I too wish to hug you again. I want to hold you forever.

Jumin Han: You’re my angel.

Yoosung★: I’m your angel?

Jumin Han: Yes. Your hair is like a halo.

Yoosung★: Well if I’m an angel then you’re a prince~!

Jumin Han: Luciel really was right then. I’m your sweet prince.

Yoosung★: You’re my sweet prince and I’m Superman Yoosung, your golden angel~!

Jumin Han: Perhaps I died and went to Heaven.

Yoosung★: Heaven... I think I died and went there last night.

Yoosung★: I just wanna relive that over and over again... I wanna give you a kiss.

Yoosung★: But arrggghh classes T_T

Jumin Han: I also want to kiss you. It’s... all I can think about this morning. Do you know what you do to me? My love for you is taking over my mind.

Jumin Han: At least you’re in a learning environment. I hope you take in at least some of the content during your next class, whenever that may be. I’m unable to focus.

Yoosung★: I can’t focus either! I can’t sit still!

Yoosung★: Why can’t I just go on a date with my boyfriend... I want to see you again.

Jumin Han: I as well. I look forward to our date later.

Jumin Han: I love you.

Yoosung★: I love you more!

Jumin Han: Ah, I’m aware of this game. I love you more.

Yoosung★: I love you MOST

Jumin Han: Then my love for you must exceed the maximum.

Yoosung★: ksjaj

Yoosung★: professro caught me txeting

Jumin Han: Texting in class again, tsk tsk.

Yoosung★: dnot judge me I missed u too mcuh

Yoosung★: I love u I miss u so so much see u latre

Yoosung★: mwah xoxo

Jumin Han: God, I miss you too. I love you, my angel.

I love you so much, Jumin.

His hand became stiff and motionless, and his pen stopped writing in the middle of a word, mind shifting back to that morning and memories thrown at him one by one.

Jumin moved the pen up and down the paper, leaving a trail of ink in its wake. He focused on one spot on the paper, one word he had written, trying to bring his thoughts back to the present, but—

The only image in his mind was Yoosung.

The pen fell out of his hand.

If you ever feel upset today, remember that.

He sighed, elbows leaning on his desk and face buried in his hands, fingers pulling at his hair, words racing through his mind that only reminded him of Yoosung, only made him want to relive that morning.

What he’d give in that very moment to see him again.

Jumin Han has entered the chatroom.

Yoosung★: Jumin!

Jumin Han: Yoosung.

Yoosung★: Ha... Jumin...

Yoosung★: I can’t take it anymore.

Yoosung★: I wanna give you the biggest hug!

Jumin Han: What was that for?

Yoosung★: I’m so happy to see you.

Yoosung★: Did you eat lunch?

Jumin Han: Yes.

Yoosung★: Good. I did too!

Yoosung★: I miss you so much...

Jumin Han: I miss you too.

Jumin Han: But we’re in the chatroom. I’m afraid we didn’t decide on this.

Jumin Han: If you wish to announce it, that’s okay with me. But please don’t push yourself if you feel uncomfortable.

Yoosung★: ...

Yoosung★: I was afraid to say this in the chatroom... because of the teasing...

Yoosung★: but now I feel confident, and I want to say it!

Yoosung★: Jumin...

Yoosung★: I... love you!

Jumin Han: I love you too, Yoosung.

Yoosung★: And I want everyone to know it.

Yoosung★: To the members... I want you all to know... that Jumin and I are dating, and I love him.

Yoosung★: Jumin... I love you. Don’t forget that.

Jumin Han: How could I possibly forget?

Yoosung★: I mean now that I said it for everyone to read I guess u could never forget lol

Jumin Han: Because of inevitable teasing.

Yoosung★: Seven...

Yoosung★: But now that I said it, I can’t stop!

Yoosung★: I love you I love I love you!

Jumin Han: I love you.

Jumin Han: Even without teasing, I could never forget. You give me all the love you have to offer. You make me so happy.

Yoosung★: You make me happy too!

Yoosung★: <3

Jumin Han: Is that a heart?

Yoosung★: Ah... yes...

Jumin Han: Oh my god.

Jumin Han: That’s adorable.

Jumin Han: <3

Yoosung★: OMG

Jumin Han: That’s my heart.

Jumin Han: It beats for you only.

Yoosung★: fjsjdzh

Yoosung★: I love you so much ur so cute

Yoosung★: I wish I could kiss you. But I know work is important...

Jumin Han: I miss your smile. God, I miss you so much. You don’t even know.

Jumin Han: I love you. You’ve stolen my heart.

Jumin Han: <3

Jumin Han: I couldn’t be happier.

Yoosung★: I miss you...

Yoosung★: I have to go to class. It starts soon.

Jumin Han: ...

Yoosung★: I’ll be thinking about you.

Yoosung★: I love you.

Yoosung★: <3

Jumin Han: I love you too. Pay attention.

Yoosung★: I will. Promise!

Yoosung★: I’m... so happy

Yoosung★: that the RFA knows you’re my boyfriend now.

Yoosung★: See you later!

Yoosung★ has left the chatroom.

Jumin Han: I miss you, Yoosung.

Leave a message after the tone.

“It’s me. You should read the messages when you have an internet connection. At least make an effort to find one. You’ll want to read them. In related news... I did not plan this speech. I usually know exactly what to say. To summarize my thoughts, I... no, you’ll want to read the messages. But I do have a boyfriend. You should know that. Why do I never see you? Call me back. But I might not pick up after work hours. Yoosung and I are going on a date. Goodbye, V.”

“May I ask you a question?”

As they approached the elevator, Jumin began to hope it wasn’t too cramped with the palpable tension in the air. He walked next to Jaehee and nodded his head in greeting to employees passing by. They stopped when they reached the elevator, Jaehee pressing the button.

“Yes,” she responded.

“Were you surprised?”

Jaehee turned her head and looked up at him, eyes widened slightly, a puzzled look on her face.

He lowered his voice. “When I said I loved Yoosung."

The elevator doors swung open.

Jumin stepped inside, Jaehee following. He took in a deep breath, remembering the slow way Yoosung breathed before he told him he was beautiful: in through his nose, out through his mouth.

“To be honest, Mr. Han,” Jaehee reached forward to press the button for the floor of their destination, “not really.”

The elevator doors closed with a thump and Jumin felt the ground move beneath him.

In through his nose.

He suddenly decided he didn’t want to go to this meeting, and would rather have the doors open to see Yoosung standing there, arms open, and he’d give him a bigger hug than he did that morning. He’d kiss him, tell him how much he missed him, and they’d leave, go on their date and fall asleep together once again.

Out through his mouth.

“... I guess I wasn’t so surprised,” Jaehee said, “because you already seemed to have such a close relationship with him. I know you told me I was mistaken when I thought you were dating, but—“

Jumin’s voice was soft and composed as he spoke. “You were mistaken. But only at the time. We... started dating yesterday.”

“I see.”

Silence.

Jumin took in another long, controlled breath.

It made him think of Yoosung, kissing him, resting his hands on his waist and pulling him closer. It made him involuntarily run his fingers through his hair to simulate the way Yoosung did, hands moving from around his neck to his hair to his chest, heart pounding with every passing second, that notorious somersault.

“So... your dinner plans with him, last night...” Jaehee said, “... does that mean that was a date?”

He closed his eyes and pretended he was still there, on his first date with Yoosung, having dinner with him, dancing with him, spinning him, kissing him, thoughts averting back to the hand in his hair.

“It was our first date...”

He tried to keep his voice controlled, like he wasn’t thinking about every aspect of that night, every aspect of Yoosung. He remembered Yoosung admitting his feelings, holding his face in his hands, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He remembered the first time Yoosung told him he loved him.

Jumin couldn’t stop the tears behind his closed eyes from falling, one escaping in a clear view for Jaehee, and he hid his face behind a hand, the frustration of the whole day forcing its way out of him.

He loves me so much, he—

“Mr. Han? Are you okay?”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I miss Yoosung.” He let out a sob, chest heaving, breathing no longer controlled. “I miss him- I- I- I w-want to- to see him again—”

He let out all the stress of the day through his tears, like a dam breaking, the powerful water flowing without an end.

“I- I love him so m-much—”

The frustration, the loneliness, the sadness he could usually contain, making its way out of him through the water, and he had no control over it. He cursed at himself as it happened, but the disappointment was diminished by the heat of the moment.

“I miss him s-so much, I- I- I wish h-he was here—”

His head was pounding and his hearing was muffled, and he tried to slow his breathing, tried to calm himself down, tried to get himself back to his regular state and stop the flow of water.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Jumin heard the sound of the elevator doors opening, before a forceful clicking noise. He heard the doors close, and the elevation change beneath them. Flipping through papers. Incomprehensible words muttered under a breath.

He wiped his eyes, glancing to the side and looking at Jaehee through watery vision. “What are you doing?” he asked, trying desperately to keep his voice at its usual monotone.

“I’m going to cancel the meeting,” Jaehee said, firmness in her voice, turning the page to her monthly calendar.

“What?” He rubbed his temples, wiping his eyes again. “No, it’s important. We have to—”

“Mr. Han.” Jaehee turned to look at him, challenging him to look back. “You are in no condition to go to a meeting.”

“Business cannot accommodate to things like this.”

“But—”

Jaehee cut herself off, searching for words, eyes narrowing in frustration, and she looked forward at the closed elevator doors. Jumin sniffed, head spinning, and the descending elevator did nothing to help. Tears threatened to fall once again when his heart cried out with longing for Yoosung.

The silence sat uncomfortably between them.

He thought it would last forever until Jaehee spoke.

“But... would you at least feel better if you called him?”

“I miss you.”

He was back in his office, sitting at his desk with the door locked, phone gently pressed against his ear as he whispered into it. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, tears dried on his cheeks from the aftermath of crying. “I miss you so much,” he whispered, feeling another round of tears threatening to fall and holding them back with broken willpower.

The room was still and quiet. To the right of him he heard the sound of Yoosung’s breath, voice in his ear like faraway music.

“I miss you, too,” Yoosung said, and Jumin let out a sigh, feeling a sense of relief, a comfort in hearing his voice.

He pretended Yoosung was in the room, standing next to him and talking to him. He kept his eyes closed, his headache and a series of thoughts like a dream within wishful thinking.

“I want to see you again,” Jumin said, voice still low, worrying for a quick second that he spoke inaudibly. He reached up to wipe away a tear on the brink of falling, convincing himself that keeping his eyes closed would stop the tears. “I... wish there was a way for you to go to school and for me to still see you.”

A pause from the other end of the line. “Think about our date later, Jumin,” Yoosung said, voice falling quieter, kind. “I’ve been doing that all day, since I’ve been r-really anxious...”

“I’m trying. But I meant that I- I w-want to see you now—”

That was when Jumin let out a sob, the make-believe barrier failing to stop the tears, falling, breathing turned to trembling heaving. With his left hand he wiped the tears away, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, rubbing his eyes until they hurt, holding his face in his hand as a tear fell with a splash onto the desk.

A worried gasp from the phone and the music began to play louder and louder.

“Jumin! Oh god, Jumin- I’m- I’m here. I’m here. I promise, I’m right here.”

Fast, small reassurances.

“I’ll always be here.”

Constant music, long songs playing in Jumin’s head.

“Even if I’m not t-there with you at the office, I’ll- I’ll always be with you, okay? I promise. I’m here... right here.”

Yoosung’s voice shifted to slow whispers, breathy words of love and Jumin felt his presence, speaking like he was hugging him and whispering into his ear, reminding him that he was here, always, no matter how far away he might have been.

Jumin just couldn’t see him, touch him, kiss him, but he could hear him, and he was here. On the other side of the phone, maybe, but here, right next to him.

He sniffed, trying to control his breathing, chest rising and falling with each desperate gasp that he tried to slow. He pulled his hand away, defeatedly letting the tears fall, words suddenly spilling out like the tears themselves.

“I- I cried in- in front of Assistant Kang,” he said, no longer making any effort to keep the sobs from escaping in his voice, growing louder. He felt a pain in his chest with each breath, as he spoke into the phone like he was uttering his last words. “W-when I told her we’re lovers, and that I m-miss you so much- I- I just s-started—“

“It’s okay.” Yoosung’s voice gave a contrast to Jumin’s, a soft, gentle tone. “It’s okay, you’re okay now. You’re okay. I’m here now, I promise, you’re okay. I’m here, I love you, you’re okay now...”

His words were soothing, calming, collected.

“Just breathe, slowly... in and out.”

Jumin felt his breathing slow naturally, impulsively taking Yoosung’s advice. The pain turned into an annoying lump in his throat, but the tears kept rolling down his cheeks, onto his suit, his hands, and he leaned back in his chair, listening to the whispers in his ear.

“I’m here. I love you, it’s gonna be okay...”

He closed his eyes, letting himself calm down, guided by the sound of Yoosung’s voice.

707: !!!

707: OMG!!!

707: ALERT! ALERT!

707: WEE OOO WEE OOO~

MC: Seven, you were right!

707: The great seven oh seven

707: was right!

707: They’re dating~

MC: Awwwww~

707: So cute I think I’m gonna die!!! T_T

707: Now whenever I say

707: Yoosung‘s got a boyfriend~

707: Yoosung’s dating the cat mom~

707: I’ll know I’m right lolol

MC: Zen and I support their relationship!

707: OMG

707: Zen’s being nice to the cat mom now!!

MC: He says he still wants to check up on him and Yoosung, but he won’t pick up his phone.

707: He said he’s not worried yesterday but now he is lol

MC: It’s probably because yesterday he didn’t think they were actually dating...?

707: Me and Jaehee did.

707: Can’t u tell from the messages?!

707: They’re head over heels~

MC: So that’s why Yoosung said he was going to miss Jumin this morning. Because he loves him!

707: !

707: I TOLD YOU

707: I knew it the whole time

707: I must be a psychic lol

707: God7 the clairvoyant...

707: He can see into the minds of Yoosung and Jumin...

707: Oooh~

MC: Tell me my fate, oh wise one...

707: God7 can only see into the minds of Yoosung and Jumin...

707: He has limited daily powers. They’ll recharge tomorrow lolol

MC: So if you can read their minds, can you tell me if they’re okay? I’m actually kinda worried about them.

707: Didn’t u say Jumin won’t pick up his phone?

707: Oh boy.

707: God7 feels...

707: A great disturbance in the force lol

MC: Well... I was just saying... I hope they’re okay if they miss each other so much...

Even if I’m not t-there with you at the office, I’ll- I’ll always be with you, okay? I promise. I’m here... right here.

“Do my eyes look red?”

As they approached the elevator for a second time, Jumin began to hope it wasn’t too cramped with their shared knowledge of his sadness. He walked next to Jaehee and kept his head down to avoid employees passing by. They stopped when they reached the elevator, Jaehee hesitating to press the button.

She glanced at him.

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

Jaehee turned her head and looked up at him, eyes widened slightly, a puzzled look on her face.

He lowered his voice. “I don’t want anyone to know I was crying.”

The elevator doors swung open.

Jumin stepped inside, Jaehee following. He took in a deep breath, remembering Yoosung’s voice over the phone, his reassurances, the promise that he was here, and Jumin imagined he was right next to him.

“To be honest, Mr. Han,” Jaehee reached forward to press the button for the floor of their destination, “I don’t think anyone at the meeting will be able to notice, considering that I know you were crying earlier.”

The elevator doors closed with a thump and Jumin felt the ground move beneath him.

Just breathe, slowly... in and out.

In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

Yoosung’s reassurances echoed in his mind, voice replaying in his head like a broken record, music growing louder again. He closed his eyes and breathed once more, in and out.

He pictured seeing Yoosung again, being able to finally touch him, soft lips against his. He remembered Yoosung’s words, that he was here, and he’d be with him throughout their upcoming meeting.

His eyes opened, and when the elevator doors did the same, he felt his legs move forward, slight confidence rising in him.

He’d go to the meeting, make it through the rest of the day.

For Yoosung.

A feeling of satisfaction and achievement overtook Jumin when he closed his office door on the way out. The work day neared its end, the sun waiting to set, and he would see who he wished he could see all day.

He rounded a corner to find Jaehee, readying her belongings to go home, and walked up to her.

“I wanted to thank you for your help today.”

Jaehee stopped, confused eyes averting to meet Jumin’s.

“What?”

“I just don’t know what I would’ve done if I was alone in that elevator,” he said. “So I wanted to thank you.”

A silence that sat for a long, long second. Jaehee cleared her throat and swung her bag over her shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” she said, a small smile on her face. “I wish you and Yoosung well.”

He took the words in, his breathing slow and calm, as his lips turned up and he smiled back at her.

The apartment door opened.

When Jumin finally saw Yoosung, bright eyed and with a heartwarming smile on his face, he felt his head spin and his world explode.

For a second he couldn’t move, left to stand still like he was turned to stone, lip trembling and eyes instinctively tearing at the sight of him, the sight he’d wanted to see all day, one he’d cried about; the person who gave him so much love and had a melting touch that he’d missed, more than he’d missed anything in a long time.

He wanted to bring himself to say his name, to say Yoosung just once, but he was speechless, and he heard the sound of his own name, a muffled Jumin, and saw Yoosung running towards him, giving him no time to react before a pair of arms were around his neck and held on for dear life.

He leaned down with the pull, wrapping his arms around Yoosung and hugging him closer. Warmth enveloped his body as the tears of joy began to fall, and he swayed with the hug naturally, holding like he’d never let go.

In that moment he realized—the promise he’d made to himself, and the reminders he’d told himself with the reassurances from Yoosung that he was here, with him, and they’d see each other soon...

They were all true, and completely worth it, just so he could get the chance to hold Yoosung again in that hug when he walked through the door.

He didn’t want the hug to end, but his body relaxed, and Yoosung pulled back. Jumin looked into his eyes for a second before he tightened his hold around his waist and began to lift him up.

“Woah—!”

Yoosung’s feet left the ground and his arms were around Jumin’s neck again in an instant, gripping the back of his suit jacket like he was afraid he’d die if he fell. His lips pressed against Jumin’s, and for the second of exhilaration that came with the kiss, Jumin’s heart pounded with the overwhelming relief of finally kissing him after a long, long day of wishing he could.

A short-lived pain in his leg as Yoosung kicked it and smiled against his lips, Jumin leaning forward again to let him down, the kiss lingering for a few more seconds before their lips parted. Yoosung’s hands glided from around Jumin’s neck to rest at his shoulders, and he gave a smile.

“What was that for?” Yoosung’s voice was breathless, and Jumin was reminded of the music from earlier, his boyfriend’s voice such a nicer tune when heard in person than over the phone. Yoosung’s smile was wide and he let out a short laugh when Jumin leaned in again, their kiss longer and deeper than the last one.

Jumin broke the kiss, gasping for air before pressing their lips together for another, and Yoosung’s hands tugged at his hair. A third one, their kisses breathless and needy, before Jumin spoke, answering Yoosung’s question.

“I’m so happy to see you.”

“Did you feel better after I called you?”

“Yes, much better. My meeting was rather boring, but I made it through.”

“That’s great!”

“It is. Usually I can go to any meeting, but today was just... different. You have no idea what your love is doing to me, Yoosung. I don’t think I do, either.”

They moved from Jumin’s apartment to the sidewalk hand-in-hand, the setting sun painting the sky in reds and yellows, shining from behind the clouds. Yoosung led the way to make a turn down the sidewalk as Jumin brought their intertwined hands up to kiss the back of Yoosung’s hand.

“Where are we going?” Jumin asked with a smile when Yoosung swung their hands down again.

“A small place I go to when I... don’t want to study.” The sparkle in Yoosung’s eye and the small laugh that escaped his mouth when he answered sent Jumin’s heart racing, remembering his feelings throughout the day of wishing he could see that sparkle and hear that laugh.

He drowned in this feeling as Yoosung led the way down the street to a destination unknown to Jumin, the sun making its way towards disappearance.

The sky was darker and the air was colder, wind hitting Jumin’s face as he sat down on a park bench, the taste of a simple order of ice cream still present on his tongue.

Yoosung sat next to him, head leaning on his shoulder, their hands intertwined and resting on Jumin’s thigh. Jumin placed a soft kiss on the top on Yoosung’s head, and they sat in comfortable silence.

Jumin closed his eyes, breathing controlled and rhythmic, before his voice broke the silence.

“I feel... rather ashamed that I cried at work today.”

He opened his eyes, feeling a sudden tightness on his hand from Yoosung.

“I... grew up around people who taught me that crying is a waste of time,” he said.

A sudden coldness on his side when Yoosung lifted his head and pulled his hand away.

“What?”

Jumin turned his head to the side and they locked eyes, Yoosung’s darkened with concern and confusion.

He’d always felt this way, a need to keep himself isolated, and there was so, so much frustration inside him when he thought back to his time in the elevator.

“Crying isn’t a bad thing, Jumin, o-okay?”

The way Yoosung looked at him and spoke to him... it was different.

“You don’t have to hide your emotions.”

Tears welled up in his eyes again, and he let out a shaky breath.

“I cried yesterday, on our date,” Jumin said. “I... I wasn’t ashamed when you were with me...”

He wiped away his tears, shaking his head.

“I- I really don’t have- have any idea what your love is doing to me, Yoosung,” he said. “It’s like there’s something wrong with me.”

Two arms around his neck, pulling him closer, Jumin’s head leaning against Yoosung’s. The voice that spoke to him was soft and reassuring.

“There's nothing wrong with you. You don’t- you don’t have to be afraid to cry, okay? You can- you can just... express yourself.”

He’d never, ever felt this way before.

“Look at me.”

Yoosung cupped Jumin’s face, misty eyes locking, a tear rolling down Yoosung’s cheek when he spoke.

“You’re so beautiful when you show your emotions, Jumin, b-because your emotions are what make you you, okay? I...” He choked back a sob. “... I love you. Everything about you.”

He’d never been spoken to like this, never been given a chance to cry, and he looked at Yoosung with astonishment and a low, distant feeling of fear.

“I- I don’t know how to—”

“It’s okay,” Yoosung said, hugging him again. “You’re okay.”

He’s okay.

The hug was shaky and tentative, the fear growing larger, and when Yoosung’s lips hit his neck, a fire inside of him ignited.

He rubbed Yoosung’s thigh and heard a small gasp in response, his breath hot against Jumin’s skin. Each touch from Yoosung was sensual and almost burning, and he hummed, low and quiet.

Yoosung pulled back for their eyes to meet again, and he spoke breathless words that struck Jumin like lightning.

“Can... can I touch you?”

You have one new voicemail message.

“You and Yoosung, huh. I never would’ve guessed. I think that might’ve been my last guess, to be honest. I... was... in the chatroom just now. Hyun’s trying to call you, so... sorry you missed me, but I hope you’re having fun on your date. You seem to really love him. I’m glad. He definitely loves you, too. I... want to see you. We’ll see each other, I promise. But right now I should leave, I have to... you know, I’m proud you found someone who makes you happy, Jumin. As your friend, it- it’s just a nice feeling to know you’re happy. See... see you soon, Jumin.”

Jumin barely remembered opening the door to his penthouse and walking inside, but soon enough he found himself being led to his bedroom, two hands on his shoulders to take off his suit jacket before pushing him onto the bed. That was the furthest his memories went after their date and he didn’t really need to know what happened before that.

He sat up a bit to see Yoosung crawling onto the bed, eyes red and tears still rolling down his cheeks as he moved on top of him, sitting in his lap. Yoosung leaned forward to whisper in Jumin’s ear.

“If t-this is too much,” he said, barely choking on a sob, “just tell me. I’m n-never assertive like this but- but—” he pulled his head back to look into Jumin’s eyes before closing them and shaking his head, seemingly changing the subject. “I love you so much.” His voice was louder and less controlled, and he placed a hand on Jumin’s chest, pushing him down to lay on his back, using his arms as support to hover over him before leaning down and kissing him.

Yoosung’s kisses were short, eager and passionate, and Jumin could feel his tears wet on his face. Jumin hugged Yoosung’s waist and let him lead, Yoosung pulling back after each kiss to take a breath and whisper I love you again and again, returning to let his tongue push past his lips.

Jumin was sweating, rapture flowing through his body, like he was walking on air and the world was spinning, his heart banging against his chest. He gasped, sucking in a breath and breaking the kiss. His eyes shot open and found Yoosung’s, both out of breath.

“I love you,” he said, out of impulse and the fact that he’d been wanting to say it ever since Yoosung threw him onto the bed. “I love you and I want you. All of you. I want you more than I want anyone else in this world.”

He saw more tears fall down Yoosung’s face and splash onto his, Yoosung taking a long, uncontrolled breath punctuated with another sob, his cheeks shining with tears and he forced out a few words. “I w-want you, please...” he said, before catching Jumin’s lips in another kiss, a rough one, and Jumin felt himself explode.

Yoosung kissed so desperately and with a passion that made it feel as if the room was getting hotter and hotter, humidity growing in the atmosphere. He was gasping and panting for air but still quickly returned each time for a breathless kiss.

At some point Jumin felt Yoosung’s teeth sink into his lip, enough that pain coursed through his body with the euphoria that came from the raw passion of it all.

That was how he knew he wasn’t dreaming, that Yoosung was real and in front of him and he could physically feel him, touch him, kiss him, and he wanted him, more in that moment than he ever had.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Yoosung’s waist and pushed him to the right, the kiss ending with Yoosung’s yelp as he fell off Jumin, landing on his back, head falling onto a pillow and elevating it slightly. Jumin rolled to the side, leaning forward to hover over him. Yoosung’s arms traveled up Jumin’s chest and rested around his neck, Jumin initiating the next kiss.

When it ended, Jumin spoke against Yoosung’s lips, words low and quiet.

“I want to leave a mark on you.”

“Please.” He spoke with the desperation and eagerness that came with his kisses. “I want you, Jumin, I—“

Jumin moved down to the crook of Yoosung’s neck and pressed his lips against hot skin, tongue running over where he wanted to mark before biting and sucking, Yoosung whimpering in response. Yoosung’s hands traveled and he forcefully ran his fingers through Jumin’s hair, each breath growing quicker and quicker until he gasped, letting out a whine from Jumin sucking harder.

Jumin moved closer to Yoosung, heat growing between them as he pushed further.

“... ah- oh, god, Jumin-! P-please, I w-want you, I want you- god, so bad, I- aah...!”

Jumin gave one last tug at Yoosung’s skin before pulling back, the bruise on his neck red and fresh. He looked into Yoosung’s desperate eyes, and his head was pulled forward by the two hands in his hair, crashing their lips together.

Jumin felt the relief of Yoosung’s hands relaxing in his hair, moving to his shoulders and his chest, pushing him so he rolled to the side and Yoosung was able to crawl on top of him once again. Yoosung slammed his hands onto Jumin’s shoulders and held him down, pinning him onto the bed.

Yoosung leaned down to kiss him again, pushing closer as Jumin had done, before his lips moved to Jumin’s jawline, kissing down his neck to his collarbone before he pulled back to tug at his tie.

Jumin’s eyes locked on the hickey on Yoosung’s neck as he fiddled with the tie before it came loose, pulling it down and out of Jumin’s shirt. Yoosung then tugged at his own blue jacket, pulling it off and throwing it to the side along with the tie.

Yoosung’s hands traveled up from under Jumin’s shirt, fingers moving up his bare chest, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His eyes locked on Jumin’s, dried tears on his cheeks. He pulled his hands back and moved them to tightly grip his shirt.

His eyes spoke every word.

Jumin slightly sat forward and tugged his shirt up, vision blocked for a moment when he took it off. He pulled it over his head and threw it to the side, Yoosung pinning him down again.

Yoosung’s vision moved from Jumin’s eyes to his chest and back up again.

“You don’t seem too thrilled.”

“What?” Yoosung’s eyes widened for a second before narrowing. “Jumin, when I say I love everything about you, I mean everything about you. I think you’re perfect.”

His eyes darted again, down and up, heavy breathing slowing down. Yoosung swallowed, another round of tears forming in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Yoosung said, voice soft. Jumin hummed, closing his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You’re the most amazing person on this earth, inside and out.” Jumin opened his eyes, staring directly into Yoosung’s. “I love you because you astonish me. You make me feel... like I’m not alone anymore.”

Yoosung’s lip trembled and he blinked back tears, one escaping and leaving a trail in its wake.

“So... sometimes I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend and you see me as perfect, when you are as perfect as perfect gets. And I’m—”

Yoosung leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, a soft one, unlike the rough, passionate ones from before. He moved to his cheek, down to his jawline, kissing Jumin across his face. He moved to Jumin’s other cheek before speaking.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated. “That’s what you are. Beautiful. I love you.”

“The only beautiful one here is you.”

“Stop saying that!” Yoosung’s voice grew louder and he looked into Jumin’s eyes again. “Stop saying you’re not beautiful or- or amazing or perfect because you are, Jumin, and I love you. I love you so much and I want to love you forever. You...” he placed a kiss on Jumin’s forehead. “... you make me so happy, and you give me a reason to try...”

Jumin’s hands found Yoosung’s waist and gripped at his shirt. “Are you self confident, Yoosung?”

“Are you?”

Jumin’s hands fell.

“You should be, J-Jumin, you’re... the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Jumin considered Yoosung to be so much higher above him, the most beautiful person in the world, deserving of all his love and even more. He felt a connection to Yoosung that he’d never felt before, and wanted to share his love with him in a way he’d never shared with anyone else.

No one’d ever told him he loved him, wanted him, the way Yoosung did.

He didn’t think he’d be the best thing to ever happen to someone, the light of one’s life and the reason for trying.

But here he was.

And it felt... amazing. Meaningful. Like he finally found the person who wanted to give him everything, and he wanted to give him that, too; the person who wanted to love him forever if he could, and he was right in front of him, kissing from his forehead to his cheek to his jawline to his neck to his collarbone and leaving that love in a trail.

Jumin didn’t bother to blink back the tears forming in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, voice trembling. “I love you, Yoosung, s-saying that I love you can’t express how much I love you. I don’t know w-what I’d do—” he sniffed, desperately trying to gain control of his voice, “—without you.”

Yoosung looked up.

“I love you, too,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, either, so... so let’s do everything together, so I never lose you.”

He lowered his head again, lips landing on Jumin’s chest before traveling down. His kisses were slow and his hands moved with him, grazing Jumin’s arm and over his chest, touching any bare skin he could find. Jumin was covered in a layer of sweat and he imagined he could die of heatstroke, finding soft grunts escaping his mouth, closing his eyes and feeling Yoosung’s lips on his stomach.

When he heard the sound of a shirt thrown onto the floor, his eyes shot open.

He sat up to look at Yoosung, who was sitting on his lap and had his arms crossed over his bare chest, eyes averting to meet Jumin’s for a split second.

He was perfect.

“Wow,” Jumin whispered, and in that moment it was all he could manage. Yoosung looked back up at him.

“W-what?”

“You are absolutely stunning.”

Yoosung gave Jumin a small smile. “So are you.”

“Take your arms away.”

Jumin reached out to grasp Yoosung’s wrist and gently pull his arm, the other one falling with it, so he could look at him. He glanced up at Yoosung, who was shaking slightly. He then wrapped his arms around Yoosung’s waist and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips before his head dropped and he moved to his shoulder.

“Are you nervous?” Jumin asked.

“Y-yeah...”

“Don’t be. Everything about you is perfect.”

Jumin pulled Yoosung closer, kissing his neck, the feeling of skin against skin sending him into an exhilaration. Yoosung wrapped his arms around Jumin’s neck, saying his name under his breath, barely audible but enough that it echoed in Jumin’s mind and played on a loud repeat.

Pleasure flowed through his body as he gripped Yoosung’s waist and rolled their hips together, Yoosung whining in response, and Jumin had never heard a more beautiful sound.

“... aaah, oh god, Jumin, I w-want you, please...”

He kept his eyes closed, drowning in the mere darkness he saw and melting into Yoosung’s touch.

That night, he loved and wanted, treasuring every part of Yoosung Kim, his heart to his soul to his mind to his body. He gave him his own, every part of him that Yoosung held in his hands.

He let himself go, just this once.

For Yoosung.

It was as if Jumin’s body was on fire and he could breathe in the humidity in the air, uncomfortably yet euphorically warm under the covers of his bed, Yoosung pressed against his lower body with his hand and head on his chest, barely sticking out from underneath the blankets.

He felt numb, numb in his fingers and legs and arms, exhausted arms, holding his boyfriend against him and tracing circles on his back with his fingers. He listened as Yoosung whispered, hot breath against bare skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Jumin, you- you’re beautiful, and... I want you to believe that...”

Yoosung’s voice was hesitant, trembling. A sudden wetness against Jumin’s skin that he guessed was either sweat or tears.

“I want to help you, I don’t want to lose you- please- please, tell me I’m not gonna lose you...”

Yoosung’s voice cracked, tensing up, Jumin hugging tighter. His head was pounding with pain and his eyes were stinging with past tears, face flushed, and he held Yoosung in a way that wordlessly told him he’d never let him go.

He knew, in that moment, that he wanted to be happy with Yoosung, to not have to worry about anything and just spend every minute with him. To go on dates with him, have dinner with him, to cuddle on the couch and kiss his forehead and for them to tell each other everything’s going to be okay, and it’d end up that way.

Yoosung shifted closer to him, blonde hair tickling his chin. “Please.” Another soft whisper and Jumin barely heard it past the ruffling of the blankets. Yoosung’s hand moved to his shoulder and rested there, placing gentle, tired kisses against his neck.

Finally, Jumin spoke.

“You’re not going to lose me. I promise.” His hand moved to run through Yoosung’s hair and he pressed his lips against the top of his head, kissing for a slow second, speaking low words and thoughts and feelings against his hair when he finished. “I’m going to help you, too, and I’m here, right here. I’ll always be here.”

Yoosung began to shake underneath his arms, letting out a sob, tears streaming down his face and onto Jumin’s chest as he hugged him tighter.

“I’m here, Yoosung. I’m always going to be right here. You’re never going to lose me.”

He repeated it like a soft chant, over and over again.

He held him like he’d break his promise if he let go, the promise they’d made to each other, one he intended on keeping, and he knew why. His heart beat faster as he spoke, color and warmth erupting inside of him.

“We’re connected,” he said, speaking into Yoosung’s hair, placing another kiss on his head. “My heart is yours, Yoosung Kim. Everything about me is yours and I want you, everything about you, because I’m helplessly in love with you, Yoosung. Every moment we spend together I fall a little more in love with you.”

Yoosung’s breathing was shook with sobs, crying into the crook of Jumin’s neck.

“I’m- god, I love you, I’m so in love with you,” Yoosung said between gasps and sobs.

Yoosung pressed soft kisses against his neck, the humidity of the room making Jumin’s heart race. Jumin’s voice was another soft whisper against Yoosung’s hair.

“It took me so long... so long to realize the person I love is right in front of me. I found you... I can’t believe I found you...”

“Assistant Kang, what does it mean to be in love?”

“Well... um... love, Mr. Han, is a complicated topic. It’s... hard to explain, because being in love is such a phenomenal thing...”

“I know the definition of love. I know what it feels like. But... to describe love...”

“Love is incredible. I believe it is one of the most beautiful things in the the world. Love can be shared between family, friends... but being in love with someone is all-consuming, the purest form of suffocation.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Well... love is a connection. I think when you connect with the person, and you’re truly able to understand them, enough to fall in love with them... that is the kind of love I see as all-consuming. You feel as if your heart if theirs, and a piece of you is with them. That kind of love is undying, and... almost unfathomable.”

“And... if you feel a part of them is with you...”

“Then that is a complete type of love. When you love another person, and you give them that love, you share your heart with them, and they return it, they share their heart with you... the way I can describe it, Mr. Han, is... true love.”

“... Assistant Kang.”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m in love with Yoosung.”

“Oh! Wow! I- um, well... if you are, then... then that’s... an amazing thing, Mr. Han.”

All-consuming.

Undying.

Connection.

Complete.

True.

He was in love with Yoosung, and from that point forward, he didn’t think. He knew.

Love can be blinding. Love can be a destructive thing and love can make a person unlike themselves.

But Jumin was in love, and he never felt more like himself than when he was with him.

He lay in that love as he pulled the man of his dreams against his chest, his breath hitting his neck as he spoke words that made Jumin fall more in love with him.

“I don’t want you to be lonely anymore.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #jusung #jumin han #yoosung kim #fluff #angst #fanfic

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thorne93 · 5 years

Text

Whirlwind Romance (Part 22)

Prompt: You’re getting married to Chris Evans… Everything in your life is perfect… Except when you break the news to your two best friends: Tom Hiddleston and Sebastian Stan

Word Count: 1036

Warnings: language, anger, angst, adult themes,

Notes: This is for @carryonmyswansong-archive challenge (Double Season, Multifaceted, 500 Follower Celebration, Writing Challenge!): Prompt – You’re marrying the wrong person! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes bcuz shes amazing and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo @carryonmyswansong-archive for letting me brainstorm with them. Got this idea from @formyfandoms… Fic image made by the super bomb @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo.... @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you decided to call your mom to break the news. After her, you would slowly start letting everyone else know. While Tom still slept, you got out of bed carefully and went to your kitchen and dialed your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom,” you greeted, sounding happy.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?” she asked.

“Um… I have some news.”

“Oh, is it good news or… bad?” she wondered, worried.

“Depends on who you ask,” you muttered. “Um, well, I left Chris, for starters.”

“Oh, no, honey. I’m so sorry. What happened? Is it just wedding jitters or did something happen?”

You shook your head, despite the fact that she couldn’t see. “No, nothing like that. I just… I’ve known for a long time I didn’t want to marry him.”

“Well, honey, why did you say yes when he proposed?”

A huge sigh escaped you. “It happened all too fast, that's all. I mean, Chris and I were having fun. I thought it wasn’t really serious, you know? He was sweet, good to me, and a good guy. We had stuff in common. When he proposed, I was totally surprised and I had no reason not to say yes, so I just did. It’s stupid but, I mean, we were happy, so it made sense.”

“So if you were happy, what went wrong?”

You let out a laugh that had no humor to it. “What didn’t go wrong? We were fighting all the time. He was missing everything wedding related but… even if none of that happened, something else did.”

“What do you mean?” your mom asked.

You took a deep breath. “Mom, uh, Tom proposed to me, and I said yes.”

Silence filled the air for a long time. So long, you wondered if the call dropped.

“Mom?” you tried, worried you were in for a long conversation.

“I wondered how long it would take you two,” she finally said, knowing in her voice.

You frowned. “Wait, you knew?”

“Of course. I didn’t know he proposed, but a blind person could see how in love you two are.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“I wanted you to find it out on your own. It’s not up to me to meddle. I just had to have faith that one of you would make a move.”

“So you’re not… mad, that I broke up with Chris?”

“Honey, I’m never going to be mad at any decision or choice you make so long as you’re happy. Chris is a sweet boy, and I don’t like his heart being broken. But you’re my baby, and what you want matters the most. You can’t just pretend to love someone for the rest of your life, that isn’t fair to either of you.”

“You’re the wisest and sweetest woman I know,” you said proudly.

“Now you’re just trying to butter me up,” she said with a laugh. “Baby, I love you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy but if this was the right decision, then everything will work out.”

“Thanks, Mom. I feel a lot better. I’m so glad I told you. Now I have to call off the wedding and everything,” you sighed.

“Take care of the vendors, let your wedding party know, and contact the people you sent invites to, that’s all you can do and that’s all you owe anyone. Get back the money you can from vendors, and send a small letter to all the people stating that you and Chris have mutually called off the wedding.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. The quicker you get it over with, the more time you can focus on you and Tom.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Well I’ve got to go. But call me tonight if you need to, okay?”

“Yeah, I need to run too. Thanks again. I love you, have a good day.”

“I love you too, baby. Talk to you later.”

With that, you hung up and Tom met you in the kitchen, kissing your neck.

----------------------------

Two amazing weeks had gone by since you accepted Tom’s proposal. Life somehow seemed… happier now.

The vendors had been contacted and the contracts had been voided. You got deposits back where you could and the rest you just ate. You began drafting the letters to the people you invited. Next, you told your wedding party.

Lizzie was shocked, to say the least. She asked you over and over if you were sure this was the right decision. Eventually, after you stressed to her that it was, she finally gave in and accepted your choices.

Aside from all the wedding craziness though, you and Tom were blissfully happy. Working together was like a dream. Tom stayed with you at your place, and you two commuted to work together. At night, you stayed in, keeping from the public eye. He made you dinner, seeing as you still weren’t 100% well. Each night, Tom read to you, lulling you to sleep. In return, you tried to rub his tired feet or sing to him as he worked in the kitchen.

You couldn't believe you could be this happy. But here you were.

But things don’t last, do they?

You looked at the calendar and noticed the date. You ran a quick calculation and started to panic. Your period was over a week late, and as of yet, you and Tom hadn’t been intimate, taking things slow. Which meant only one thing…

In great haste, on your lunch break, you ran to the pharmacy and grabbed a test. You stuffed it in your purse until you got home. Once both of you were home, Tom said he had to run to the store and you said you wanted to get a shower in. He kissed you swiftly then left. As soon as he pulled away, you yanked the test out of the box, your heart pounding.

You read the instructions, and followed them. Snapping the cap back on the test, you started a timer. As soon as the timer went off, your heart skipped a beat. With sweaty palms you grabbed the test and looked at the little indicator window, reading the results.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tags:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

@alyssaj23

@sea040561

@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

Tom Hiddleston:

@camigt1999

@lenawiinchester

@esoltis280

Sebastian Stan:

@nedthegay

@lostinspace33

@alwayshave-faith

@elleatrixlestrange

@buenostardissherlock

@lenawiinchester

@the-red-world-of-jess-chibi

@memory-of-a-goldfish

@shamptain-shmerica

@crazybutconfidentaf

@esoltis280

@alwayshave-faith

Chris Evans:

@nedthegay

@camigt1999

@lostinspace33

@alwayshave-faith

@elleatrixlestrange

@lenawiinchester

@mellsstark

@esoltis280

@patzammit

WR Tag:

@gaylemonshark @tacohead13

@seabasstiantrash

@nerdy-bookworm-1998

@berruneko09

#whirlwind romance #CarryOnMySwanSong500 #chris evans x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans #tom hiddleston #sebastian stan

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hela-avenger · 6 years

Text

If I Die Young

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 5,412

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: The agony of losing you and the memories of you only makes letting you go harder.

A/N: PURE ANGST. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DECIDED TO WRITE THIS.

If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song

Bucky had you in his arms as he pressed his hands to the bleeding wound from your chest. A breathing mask covered your face and your hands laid on top of his as you tried to help him stop the bleeding. Blood was covering both of your hands and spilling out of the makeshift walls that your fingers make.

Bucky could see you smile through the mask and you gripped his hands tighter, your eyes never leaving his. He could see that you were trying to say something so he reluctantly rips off the mask on your face.

“Finally…” you gasp out. “That thing makes it hard to talk…”

You start to cough violently, interrupting you completely. Bucky doesn’t notice your recovery as he focuses on the dark red that is now tainting your lips.

“We’re gonna get you back to the base,” Bucky tells you. “T’Challa and his team will have you patched up before you’ll know it.”

“I’m not gonna make it, Buck,” you whisper.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky grits out as he presses more strongly on your wound.

Your thumb caresses his hand as your grip loosens.

“But I do,” you confess to him. “I saw it happen and I still chose this...”

Bucky’s eyes fill with tears as your confession hits him. You knew all along the result of this mission and didn’t dare to tell him anything. You could have prevented this, but you didn’t.

“There was no other choice, Bucky,” you tried to make him understand. “You and Steve would have died if I didn’t cause that distraction. The hostages wouldn’t have made it either. Everyone would have died…”

“I can’t... I can’t do this without you, doll.”

You fought very hard to restrain the tears from falling and to keep the smile up. You were afraid. You were so afraid. Not for what would happen after your heart decided to stop completely, but for what would happen to Bucky after it did.

“You’ll be ok without me, right?” you ask with a sad chuckle. “You’ve had less nightmares and those damned words are out of your head, and you’ve made more friends and …”

“Stop,” Bucky pleads. “You’ve got to rest.”

“No rest for the wicked,” you respond with a short laugh. “I’ve got things to say before…”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Bucky states as he presses more on the wound. “You’re going to make it. We’re not that far from the base.”

“Still in denial, I see…” you mutter.

“Steve!” Bucky shouts ignoring you. “How much farther?”

“Five minutes!” Steve calls out. “Hold on Y/N!”

“Promise me,” you grit out as it becomes harder for you to breathe. “Promise me you’ll be ok.”

“I won’t be anywhere near ok without you, doll,” Bucky cries out to her. “You’ve got to survive this.”

“I can’t…” she cries out. “I’m so sorry.”

Bucky closes his eyes as he tried to ignore the feeling of her blood growing cold between his fingers. You place a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at you.

“Not a lot of people get to say goodbye,” she tells him. “I just… I love you, Bucky.”

“Y/N!”

“I love you…” you repeat as your hand slips away from his face and falls limply by your side.

Bucky doesn’t say it back as Steve harshly lands the quinjet and opens up the back to reveal the medic team waiting on them. Bucky refuses to remove his hands from your chest so Steve pushes the gurney down the ramp. From there, the doctors take you into the medical wing and immediately prepared you for surgery.

Bucky watches from the clear crystal window as they worked on you. They kept pumping you with blood, but you were putting out more than you were receiving. White rags were being placed inside your chest cavity and were as quickly pulled out drained in dark blood.

He was losing hope… fast.

All of a sudden you start flatlining and every attempt they do to bring you back doesn’t work. Steve is there to catch Bucky as his legs fail to hold him up. The rest of the team were waiting to hear the results but the loud scream that erupts from Bucky’s mouth is enough for them to know that you had lost the final fight.

The sharp knife of a short life Well I've had just enough time

“Hey, doll…” Bucky called out to you as he saw your distant stare. The meeting was wrapped up for this upcoming mission, but you weren’t leaving like everybody else. Instead, your gaze remained forward as images flashed through your mind. “Doll?”

You blink and turn to look up at him with a small smile.

“Sorry, I was just looking into certain outcomes,” you brush off as you pick up the files and stand up from your chair. Bucky nods understanding that you used your powers to find the right choices to make in the nearby future. Taking your time to look into every possible scenario, every outcome of every direct decision you made, tended to save their asses more often than not.

“Anything you got to share?” he asked as he led you out of the room and towards the elevator. You step into the elevator and press the button for the residential floor you shared with Bucky.

“Just the usual,” you tell him as the elevator doors opened. “Don’t get shot.”

“I’ll make sure I won’t,” Bucky chuckles as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna join me?”

“I uh… I have to make a few calls first,” you tell him as you slip out of his hold and head down the opposite direction of your bedroom “But I’ll be there in a minute.”

Bucky saw how you held the file tighter to your chest and the way your smile looked tense as you waited for his response. He decided to brush off the strange behavior, knowing that you got anxious before every mission and just needed to make a call home to ease that feeling.

“Alright, doll,” he answered. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

And with that, Bucky entered the bedroom and left you on your own. You made sure to wait until the shower started running before making your way towards the kitchen. You pull out your phone and start to dial a memorized phone number that was only meant to be used for dire emergencies.

“This better be good, Agent Y/L/N,” Fury stated in a monotoned voice. “I’m supposed to be dead.”

“I got you beat there, Director,” you respond oddly calmly. “In less than 24-hours, I will be dead.”

The line goes silent and you finally find yourself facing the severity of the situation. There were so many things you wanted to do and things that were unfinished. You thought you had more time to do all of that, but deep in your mind you somehow knew it would end like this. That part of you was the reason you weren’t wallowing in your own self-pity. That part of you was the reason you had closure to this news.

“I’ll start preparing Project TAHITI,” Fury responds. “It’ll take some time, but I’ll…”

“I didn’t call you for that, Director,” you interrupt him. “I called you so that you can pull those beautiful, strong strings that you still hold and get Bucky and Steve and the rest of them a hell of a good deal and my boys, my friends, better have their goddamn feet on some kind of US soil or I won’t let myself be put down six feet under.”

“Are you threatening to haunt my ass from the great beyond?” Fury asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You know damn well that I am,” you snap back earning a chuckle from him.

“Consider it done, then,” he responds. “Can’t be the reason you’re not dancing behind those pearly gates in the clouds.”

Before you could respond, you hear Bucky calling for you to join him already. You let out a sigh at the thought of hiding this from him, but the outcome of telling him ended with multiple casualties.

“I have to go,” you tell the Director. “It was nice hearing your voice before… well, you know.”

You hang up before he got the chance to, leaving your relationship with your boss and mentor as it always was; mysterious and unresolved.

You start to undress on your way to the bathroom. Your mind already organizing a plan to enact in the next few hours. You cast those thoughts away and allowed a genuine smile on your face as you took in the outline of Bucky’s naked body from the other side of the shower.

The sight of him would forever be ingrained in your mind. The sensation of his rough, strong hands caressing your skin and pulling you towards his warm body would be a feeling that will never fade away. His lips, his mouth, his tongue would be the sweetest thing you’ll ever have the pleasure to taste.

“Are you sure everything is ok?” Bucky asks you as he shuts off the water. He could still sense some distance from your part in the way you held onto him for a bit longer.

“Yeah…” you whisper reassuringly as you pressed a kiss to his lips. “There’s just a lot I have to do before tomorrow.”

If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song

They couldn’t believe they were actually standing here at the Avengers base. Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Sam were finally back on American soil without being immediately put under military arrest. They all received diplomatic immunity a day after your death. The timing of it all made it evident that you had something to do with it.

They didn’t know what strings you pulled and why you waited until now to pull them, but they were glad you did. If only you were standing with them now so they could thank you properly.

Everyone went their separate ways once they received the news. Scott and Clint headed over to see their families after these past few years they spent in hiding. The remainder returned to the base and headed directly to their old rooms.

Steve watched as Bucky made his way into yours and locked himself in there. He knew that he wouldn’t be coming out soon. Not because of his fear to face Tony, but because it was what he’s been doing recently. Hiding away from everything and everyone.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces everyone to head towards the living room for a general meeting. Steve makes his way over and finds the entire team together. Bucky wasn’t there, but Steve hadn’t expected him to be.

There was a distance from both sides of the room, an invisible boundary separating his team from theirs, but no one seemed at edge, just wary.

In the middle of them, all laid a SHIELD file with your name labeled front and center. It wasn’t hard to see that it contained your past history and your recent will.

After F.R.I.D.A.Y read over it and analyzed it for everyone’s sake, arguments had taken over the meeting as everyone tried to settle what was best to do with your funeral arrangement.

“This is a final prank of hers!” Tony shouted as he threw the file onto the table. “She can’t be serious with this.”

“Y/N was a grown woman and she knew that these matters aren’t taken lightly,” Steve defended you. “She knew what she was doing.”

“I agree with Tony,” Natasha quips. “It seems idiotic to make her funeral arrangements to some archaic ritual. She must have been joking.”

“I don’t know…” Wanda whispers from her corner of the table. “Y/N never did anything without reason. Even her pranks had some purpose behind them... like when Sam purposely left a red sock in her whites causing her favorite summer dress to turn pink.”

Wanda couldn’t help the small smile on her face as she looked up to find Sam sporting one too.

“She scared me straight when she set those fireworks hidden on my wings for New Year’s,” Sam chuckles out before it soon fades away.

“Like I was saying before,” Wanda continued solemnly. “She put this down in her will for a reason.”

“Well I’m categorizing this as a lapse of judgment,” Tony mutters. “I’m having her buried in a designated plot next to her father. We’ll have a ceremony and her mother and sisters will be there and I…”

“No.”

The voice comes from the doorway and everyone looks up to find Bucky leaning against it. He was extremely pale and his eyes were red from the lack of sleep.

“It’s been years since you’ve last worked with her,” Bucky tells them. “Years since you’ve last spoken to her… How would you know what she would want?”

Tony was having a hard enough time to restrain his resentment towards Bucky. He opened his mouth to argue but Vision is quick to step in between the two.

“I believe Barnes has a point,” Vision states. “We no longer have the knowledge of what Miss Y/L/N would want at this moment. I believe that they have a better insight than us.”

“And speaking for all of us,” Steve adds in as he turns to look at his best friend. “I believe Bucky would know what Y/N would have really wanted.”

Wanda and Sam nodded in agreement and the room became silent as they watched Bucky take up your file and look through it. For the first time since your death, Bucky smiled.

“She wants a Viking funeral…” Bucky reads out with a chuckle. “Thor told her about it once and ever since then she’s vowed she wanted the same.”

The room remained silent and Bucky looked up to find everyone watching him. As if they were expecting him to implode.

“We’ll bury her like she asked us to,” Bucky states as he held the file close to his chest. He begins to leave with the intention of returning to your room. “No exceptions.”

And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger I've never known the lovin' of man But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life Well I've had just enough time

“What are you still doing up?” Bucky asked you as he approached your dimly lit desk. You’re quick to place the paperwork into the unlabelled folder. He turns your chair so you can face him before resting his head on the crook of your neck. “Come back to bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you confess to him. “Had a lot on my mind…”

“Everything will turn out fine,” Bucky assures you. “You of all people would know this.”

“I know,” you sigh out. “But I can’t help but worry sometimes. There have been some close calls in the past.”

Bucky nods at this but he was too tired to think clearly. He was too tired to notice the frown etched on her face or the poorly hidden letter that was behind you.

You take him in; the sight of his drooping eyes and the way his long hair was all over the place due to the sudden wake-up. You couldn’t help but smile and brush his hair back in order. You scratch his scalp and he practically purrs at the sensation.

“Go back to bed,” you tell him as you place a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll join ya in a minute. I just need to finish some paperwork.”

“Fine,” Bucky sighs out in displeasure. He wanted you to go back to bed with him now but knew that a few more seconds wouldn’t kill him. “This is the second time you’ve kept me waiting today. You owe me.”

You let an empty chuckle pass through your lips as you turn back to your desk. You felt a heaviness settle in your chest at the thought of not having another moment like this with him. To have this be the last night you two spend together.

With newfound determination, you quickly finish your funeral preparations and your will. You’ll wake up earlier in the morning to have them notarized and filed away before Bucky wakes. You seal the envelope which would be sent to your mother before cleaning up any evidence of what you’ve done.

You shut off the light and make your way back to the bedroom. You find Bucky laid out on his back, already asleep, but with open arms as if he was subconsciously waiting for you to join him. You capture the sight in your mind before slipping in beside him. His arms immediately wrapped around you and you lay there fighting off sleep so you could memorize his breathing pattern and the way his heart beats in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper to him as you close your eyes tightly in remorse. “You didn’t deserve this.”

So put on your best boys, and I'll wear my pearls What I never did is done A penny for my thoughts—oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar They're worth so much more after I'm a goner And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singin' It's funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

Bucky had remained seated on your bed ever since he came into your room. Your file was laid out on the bed after he read all of its contents. He thought he knew everything about you, but your file opened his eyes to another side of you. That had sent him into another pit of despair as he realized how much he wanted you back so you could tell him in your own words.

His face was buried in his hands, but the reminder of you was still there. The whole room smelled like you and your face was displayed everywhere. Pictures of you and the team before it split up. Your smile brightening whatever situation you were caught in. God, how he missed that smile of yours.

His eyes took in the chaos that was your room. An organized chaos, you would call it. There were clothes scattered everywhere and drawings messily pinned onto the walls. It was in every definition, you.

Bucky took in the sketches that were pinned over your bed. Portraits of Wanda playing the guitar, Natasha and Clint playing cards, Tony working on one of his cars, and Steve on his bike. What surprised him was finding his own face in the mix.

It was hidden.

Carefully hidden behind all of the penciled drawings. It was him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and he couldn’t help but remember the first time he saw you.

Steve had found him in Romania and Bucky had thought he had come alone. It wasn’t until he tried to make an escape and leap to the neighboring building that he found out that he was wrong. Because there you stood to pull him back before he made his jump and to your surprise, he still jumped, bringing you down with him.

You knew every move he was going to make thereafter and tried to be one step ahead of him. He kept surprising you with his last-minute decisions which didn’t give you much of a chance to formulate a plan to counteract them.

Now he knew why you acted so familiar with him. You knew he was coming for you. You knew that you two were meant to be.

Knowing that sent Bucky through another wave of resentment.

He hated that you made this decision without discussing him first.

He hated that you didn’t fight harder to find another way.

He hated that you knew he would feel this way.

He hated hating you because... damn it… he loved you with everything he had.

Bucky rips your sketches apart as he angrily tears them off the wall. The pictures of your loved ones being destroyed because you were no longer here to protect them. Behind all of the drawings, he finds his face painted onto the wall and he can’t help but start to destroy that too. His metal fists breaking through the wall with every rage-filled punch.

Suddenly, Bucky is swung backward and is being pinned down by Steve. Wanda appears right behind him, her fingers laced with red, as she reaches for his temple.

“Bucky, calm down,” she tells him as he fought through Steve’s hold. “Y/N wouldn’t have wanted this. Calm down!”

Bucky refused to listen to her and she found no other choice but to place her fingers on his temple and bring forth a memory from his mind.

“Hello there, soldier.”

Bucky blinks a couple of times, his sight not used to the bright lights that surrounded the room. He can see the outline of you, a shadow, and after a few seconds his eyesight adapts and he sees you in all of your glory. The sun rising behind you created a halo around you and the smile on your lips was pure heaven.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

He couldn’t form a response, not when you were standing there. You turn behind you to look at Steve and nod, telling him that he was responding well. Steve appears in front of him now with a relieved smile on his face.

“Hello there, punk,” he greets him.

“Hi there, jerk,” Steve greets back.

Bucky turns to look back at you but finds you leaving the room with the intention of letting the old friends finally reunite after a long year of waiting.

“Hey!” Bucky calls out to you.

You turn back in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to want you there. You certainly hadn’t seen that coming in your visions.

“Hi,” you say as you walk back to his side. “Need something?”

“The words,” he states. “They’re out of my head? For good?”

“Yes, Bucky,” you tell him with a smile. “Yes, they are.”

“And you helped?” he asked.

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just made sure the decisions they were making were the right ones with the right results.”

“Thank you,” he whispers gratefully.

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for,” you respond as his crystal blue eyes met yours. Against your will, a blush spread up your neck to your cheeks and you knew that was your cue to leave. You start to head for the exit again, but decide to turn back and offer him a smile.

That smile was what sealed his fate to yours and perhaps you knew that too.

Bucky wakes up panting and finds Steve and Wanda staring down at him in concern. Tears start to roll down his face as the pain in his heart returned tenfold. Seeing you again, alive, and as captivating as ever was a harsh reminder that you were no longer here.

“Why did you show me that?” Bucky asked Wanda with a sense of betrayal. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Because you needed a reminder,” Wanda answers. “A reminder of why you chose to love her and why she chose to love you too.”

Seeing that he was no longer a danger to himself, Wanda motions to Steve to let him go and they exit your room. Leaving Bucky to once again cry himself to sleep to the memory of you.

If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song

The ceremony was short and brief as the sun rose up the hill. You laid in your casket, on a bed of rose petals, dressed in a white satin dress that confirmed to Bucky that you were truly an angel sent from above. As he stared down at you, he couldn’t help but find a sliver of hope grow within him as he imagined you waking up with laughter of a prank well done.

He knew that wasn’t the case, but damn he hoped it was.

They close the lid of your casket and you were now forever hidden under polished chestnut wood that would soon be set to sail and then lit aflame. You were foolish to want to be buried this way, but he couldn’t help but find humor in it too. Of course you would be this flamboyant at your funeral.

They carried your casket down to the river bed. His dress shoes getting soaked, but he didn’t care. This was what you wanted and he would give it to you as bitter as he was.

Your casket is set on the small boat that is decorated with carvings of dragons crowned with flowers. Bucky is reluctant to let your boat go knowing that after his release he will no longer see you again. His hand holds onto the rope and Steve has to pry it out of his hands after a minute. Bucky reluctantly steps back and watches as the waves slowly take you further away from him.

Clint stands next to him and raises his bow with the arrow lit on fire. He waits for Bucky to give him a cue, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to watch you turn into ash.

The boat sails further and further down the river and he closes his eyes tightly.

“Now,” he whispers.

Bucky hears the arrow fly past him and the eruption of flames as it hits its target. He feels a hand on his shoulder and Bucky bitterly opens his eyes to find you already gone. No trace of you was left.

“James,” someone calls out to him.

Bucky looks behind him and finds a woman waiting at the bank of the river. She looked familiar to him but he couldn’t figure out why.

He makes his way towards and the closer he got to her, the more he recognized the features that she and you shared.

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he whispers as he offered her his hand to greet her.

Your mother ignored his hand and moved to pull him into an embrace. Bucky was surprised at the act, but he knew that she was in mourning as much as he was. He lost the love of his life, but she lost a daughter.

“I am so sorry,” Bucky apologized to her. “It was my job to protect her and I…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as your mother interrupted him.

“I don’t blame you for anything, James,” she tells him. “My daughter explained that very clearly to me when she called.”

“She called you?” Bucky asked surprise and betrayed. “You knew?”

“Wanted to save me the heart attack,” she explained to him. “She knew I hated her job, but what could I do about it. Y/N wanted to be a hero and with the ability she had, how could I hide that from the world?”

Your mother shakes her head before letting out a sigh.

“But this isn’t about what I feel or wanted,” your mother tells him. “There’s nothing I could do about it now. It’s all in the past.”

She pulls out a wrinkled letter from her purse and smooths it out in her hands.

“Y/N wanted you to have this,” your mother tells him. “She knew you would want a piece of her when she was gone and here it is.”

Bucky takes the letter and finds your slanted cursive decorating the envelope.

“Why would she give you this?” Bucky asked her causing her to smile.

“Every choice she made always ended with a positive outcome,” she responded. “This one was meant for me to finally meet the big love of her life. The man who made her happy in her last breath.”

Bucky’s heart tightened painfully at her words and he could feel himself struggling to breathe.

“I wanted to marry her.”

“I know,” your mother responds. “I think she knew that too.”

Ooh, ooh, the ballad of a dove Go with peace and love Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em

Steve watched how Bucky sat at the edge of your bed with your letter in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet and he seemed like he was never going to. Steve wasn’t sure if he was afraid to read the content inside or if this letter was the conclusion of everything you went through.

Bucky wasn’t sure either how he felt about this.

This letter, written in your hand, was your last words to him and he wasn’t ready to go. He would never be ready to let go.

“What are you waiting for?” Steve asks him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky whispered.

Steve took a seat next to him, shoving away the ripped sketches aside.

“Y/N wouldn’t have wanted you to torture yourself with something simple like this,” Steve told him.

“I know,” Bucky responded. “But I can’t help myself… I’m holding onto her as long as I can.”

“The letter won’t disappear after you read it, Buck,” Steve tells him. “And neither will she.”

“She’s already gone,” Bucky reminds him. “This letter… This letter is nothing compared to the real thing.”

“Well that’s all she could manage to give you, Buck,” Steve states. “It’s more than what others usually get.”

Steve knew from experience the feeling of loss and Bucky feels much worse than before. He let out a sigh and turns the envelope over.

Seeing this, Steve takes his leave and Bucky is left alone to deal with the contents of your letter. He finds pictures of the both of you falling into his hands and he couldn’t help but smile as happy memories were recalled. He sets the pictures aside and pulls out the crisp pages of your letter.

Dear Bucky,

I’m struggling to find the right thing to say because as of this point I’ve stopped trying to look into the future to see the results of this aftermath. I don’t know how you will react to what I have to say, but knowing you as well as I know myself, you are probably not too happy with me.

My choices recently have been reckless and unfair to you and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to have more suffering. If I had known this was the way things were going to end I would have steered clear from you and saved you from the pain.

Maybe it was selfish of me to have pursued you, but I couldn’t help myself. I recognized you before I even knew who you were. You were a constant in my life and meeting you was a choice that was made a long time ago. Maybe it was fate or destiny or just meant to be and maybe it’s selfish for me to be thankful for it because you gave me everything I wanted, Bucky.

You gave me love and adventure and laughter and happiness. You made me stop looking into the future and focus on the present with you. You made me feel so alive and I loved and was loved.

Thank you for everything, Bucky. I’m sorry it had to end this way.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Bucky lets out a sigh and he read the letter once more hearing your voice in echo in his head. You were still there somehow, deep into his memories, and a part of his soul. This letter was a reminder of who you were and he would carry it with him always.

The sharp knife of a short life well Well, I've had just enough time So put on your best boys, and I'll wear my pearls

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x ofc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #post-civil war #bucky fanfic #character death

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sssoto · 7 years

Text

Happy 200th birthday, Serena!

My dearest baby Serena da Silva has her birthday today, October 17th, and it’s not just any birthday - today marks the day she was born 200 years ago! EEEP how exciting is that? You only get to celebrate an anniversary like that once in your lifetime!

If you’re unfamiliar with Serena, she is my character from my book project series for Amnesia: The Dark Descent, in which she plays a major role. She’s probably the character nearest and dearest to my heart, and she tends to be a fan favourite among readers as well, so I wanted to do something extra special for this particular anniversary.

So here comes: a birthday feature! In which I display all the amazing gifts Serena has received today.

First of all, I want to show the wip of what I had planned to do for Serena, which unfortunately I couldn’t finish in time since my laptop screen broke at the WORST. TIMING. EVER. I meant to have this artwork ready for today, but since I won’t be able to finish it until later, I’ll share a wip of the clean sketch:

I must admit, I’m quite proud of it! It’s the first time I experiment with perspective and interiors for real, and I also usually suck at drawing animals, but Cleo (Serena’s cat) came out quite okay here, so I’m happy! I hope I’ll be able to finish it sooner rather than later.

And now, let’s get into the amazing gifts my baby has received today AAAHHH!

@juliajm15

If you’ve been following me for a while, you might know that @juliajm15 is an art goddess who’s been making amazing beautiful fanart of my characters for the past couple years. She always goes so above and beyond for me, and that can be seen by LOOKING AT THIS GORGEOUS PIECE OF SERANIEL FANART.

IT’S THEIR FIRST KISS. THEY’RE SO YOUNG AND INNOCENT HERE. THAT HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. THAT DRESS. THAT HAIR (BOTH OF THEM). I COULD GO ON GUSHING BUT WE’D BE HERE ALL DAY.

OH YEAH, AND THAT BACKGROUND.

I just had to mention that.

OMG I die over how perfect and cute and romantic this is, it just completely captures the essence and emotion of that scene in my book! I feel so blessed and privileged, how am I ever gonna recover from this perfection?

But not only did she do this amazing gorgeous romantic piece for me, she also did a complete remake of Serena’s character portrait and DAMN SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS.

HOW does she always manage to capture Serena so perfectly? Ugh I honestly just can’t with this perfection, I just can’t. That expression, that hair, those LIPS. Okay, I’m gonna move on because I could literally gush about Serena’s face all day, but then we’d miss out on all the other amazing gifts she received today! Just, thank you so much @juliajm15 my darling, you’re such a generous and ultra skilled human being, thank you so much for being in my life and supporting me always

@shaelinwrites

So meme and aesthetics queen @shaelinwrites totally disarmed me today when she sent me THIS GORGEOUS MOODBOARD FOR SERENA OH MY LORD.

LOOK AT THAT GORGEOUS WINTER AESTHETIC. OMG LOOK, CLEO MADE A CAMEO ON THE BOTTOM LEFT. Omg these colours are just too beautiful I CAN’T. The art supplies, the gesture and expression of this girl, it’s all SO Serena. The whole feel of this moodboard is just so romantic and cosy and wintery and ugh, the nightgown, the long dark hair. I’m aware I’m just rambling and gushing throughout this post DEAL WITH IT.

And @shaelinwrites didn’t stop there, no, as any good bae, she knew how important the bae is. HAVE SOME MORE SERANIEL, THIS TIME BLACK AND WHITE SEXY EDITION.

OH MY LORD. HOW WILL I EVER RECOVER FROM ALL OF THIS. I CANNOT DEAL, CAN. NOT. DEAL.

All of this is literally just so accurate. Like, it’s so friggin’ hard to find good stock images that can embody a fictional character, BUT MY BAE DID IT *CRIES*. Thank you so much bae, omg this surprise was such a highlight today!!

@coffeeandcalligraphy

Another dear friend of mine (who’s a total cinnamon roll btw), @coffeeandcalligraphy, also went above and beyond for my character’s birthday because LOOK AT THIS:

I swear, everyone remembers the bae Baeniel. Eeeeeveryone.

Omg I swear, MY BABIES LOOK SO ATTRACTIVE HERE LIKE OH MY LORD. Daniel boooiiiiiii with that Expression of Angst™ and them puffy lips, and SERENA OMG THE HAIR AND THE LIPS AND EYES, HER INDIGENOUS ROOTS ARE SO PRONOUNCED WITH HER EYES AND I LOVE THAT.

I actually can’t??? Like how do I have so many talented af friends??? I must be a talent MAGNET I’m telling ya.

Oh and Rachel had the same idea as Baelin and went the sexy Black and White edition with the OTP as well:

BECAUSE CAN WE EVER HAVE TOO MUCH SEXINESS? I THINK NOT. Thank you so much @coffeeandcalligraphy I swear your art just blows me away, you’re improving at such a rapid pace, slow down, I can’t keep up

@sarahkelsiwrites

Also @sarahkelsiwrites is a close friend of mine, and actually @coffeeandcalligraphy‘s twin sister (gotta collect the whole pack amirite), and as part of her inktober challenge she did THIS GORGEOUS INKED PORTRAIT OF SERENA:

LIKE OMG OKAY SO the Victorian aesthetic is on POINT here, and OMG I love that her Hispanic features are soooo visible here. ALSO DAMN, THE DETAIL ON THE JEWELLERY. THE INKING OF THIS IS ALSO SO GREAT, LIKE, DO YOU SEE THE LINES IN HER HAIR???? I’m sorry, I’m an artist, I have to appreciate it when I see good craft, okay? I also gotta note that I’m living for how everyone always remembers Serena’s choker because girl never goes without one

Ugh HER EYES AND LIPS okay I gotta stop. I mention the eyes and lips every time, when will I switch it up. NEVER. Okay, glad we got that settled.

(Yes, I’m a dork, but only when I’m overwhelmed with this much love and beauty, I swear.)

Also omg THE SONG LYRICS, THOSE ARE SELENA GOMEZ LYRICS, AND IT’S STARS DANCE, AND I LOVE THAT SONG, AND IT’S SO RELEVANT, AND I’M ACTUALLY SHOOK. LORD thank you so much @sarahkelsiwrites god I just can’t believe how friggin’ talented and generous and thoughtful all of you are, I will never get over it.

Constance

So I’ve not mentioned this, but not too long ago I was totally taken by surprise and utterly *shook* when I received a private message on the site where I have Memoirs posted. This long message came from an angel named Constance, who registered a profile just to tell me how much she adored my story, give me fanart, and TELL ME SHE’S TRANSLATING THE ENTIRE THING TO FRENCH BRUH.

So if any of you out there are speaking French and not super comfortable with English, but still interested in reading Memoirs, it’s Constance you wanna hit up. She’s got you covered.

But back to the FANART.

Constance is working on this GORGEOUS Serena fanart for me, and while it’s not all finished yet, she said I could still post it for the birthday feature! (I’m going to update the post with the finished piece once it’s ready)

LOOK HOW CUTE AND PRETTY AND YOUNG MY SERENA IS HERE. THIS DRESS IS SO PRETTY, I DIE. OMG SHE HAS THE LOCKET. I realise like 90% of this post is all caps, but WHO CAN BLAME ME? I’m so #blessedyouknow right.

All I wanted in my life is Serena in a pink pretty dress. Thank you for realising my dreams, Constance *cries* and thank you so much for the endless support and this generosity! Seeing other people getting so invested in my story and characters really moves me so much, it’s all that I could hope for waaahh.

2k17 - Birthday One Shot

Okay, so I know how I said I couldn’t finish my artwork for Serena in time as I had intended, which made me very, very Sad™, BUT. I came up with something else.

So this was actually SUPER spontaneous and I usually NEVER do something like this, but I took a chance, and you know what? It worked out. I just wanna say thank you so much to my bae @shaelinwrites who pushed and motivated me to do this, I dunno what happened, but you must’ve transferred some of your writing machine abilities to me, because I actually managed to finish an entire one shot in JUST ONE DAY. (Are you as shook as I am? Cuz I can never seem to finish a chapter so I’m shook.)

Since I couldn’t finish my artwork for Serena like I planned, I decided to write a short fluffy non-canon one shot for her birthday. It was super spontaneous and unplanned, but it actually came surprisingly easy to write! I’ve not written in first person in many, many years, so this was really a leap of faith LOL, but I like the end result! A major thanks to @shaelinwrites, who encouraged me and critiqued the short before publication, and @coffeeandcalligraphy, @sarahkelsiwrites and @juliajm15 for giving it a read and telling me their thoughts as well! I hope you all enjoy this little piece of fluff; since I’m taking so long to write my book, maybe this can keep y’all entertained meanwhile

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported me and celebrated Serena’s birthday with me, even just in spirit! It makes the long journey all worth it, knowing there are people out there who care (’:

(short story starts under the cut!)

Roses and Ballerinas

The balcony drapes danced lightly with the gentle morning breeze, a delicate waltz. My existence was comfort, head cushioned by feather pillows and silk sheets swathing my naked form. Sunlight hadn’t woken me; London was always grey, ash brick and fog, and even more so in the rainy days of October. However, for what one might expect, the morning didn’t seem to carry its usual autumn gloom—though I suppose that observation could’ve had more to do with my current disposition.

A smile crept on my lips at remembrance of the night previous, one which, if anyone saw, surely would’ve spoken of scandalous notions unfit for a such young lady to entertain. Fortunately, none had been around to witness what had occurred in this room; tangled limbs, kisses of the sweetest character, ardour’s touch, skin marked with such fierce passion that even I could not have imagined. It didn’t seem right that something so blissful could be immoral. Should a simple seal of matrimony reverse what was once considered debasement? What a frigid, unromantic sentiment. If anyone would’ve cared to ask me, I would sing praise to the levels of delight and unison one could only reach when committing so wholeheartedly to Venus’ embrace. Might my lover treat me to such a lovely experience again tonight? This was after all a special day of mine.

I turned in my silk cocoon to face him, and was met with a disappointing sight. Half my bed was empty, only evidence that anyone had occupied the space a faint outline in the wrinkled sheets where his body had laid. I was accustomed to sharing this queen size with no one. My parents had always been diligent in ensuring that I was endowed much more space than a small person like me required. Somehow, the vastness of this bed, indeed this entire room, seemed pronounced in this moment. I fancied I didn’t really like that much space at all. It only served to remind me of my loneliness.

Rationality grounded me; naturally, he’d gone to his own room before my maid servant would come to knock. It was only sensible. If Lydia came to discover him here, she could not keep such a secret from Mama—though truly I hadn’t much need for concern today, as she was typically inclined to let me sleep in on a day of my celebration. Yes, it was the day itself which heightened my sensitivity, nothing more. Admittedly I’d had hopes for the morning, that he might wake me with another of his sweet kisses, might whisper words of admiration and appreciation in my ears as he’d play with my dark locks—an occupation he liked to take up whenever he visited my private chambers, I’d noted with slight thrill. Indeed, he was a beautiful man—one would be hard-pressed to argue the fact—but more importantly was how knowledgeable he’d proven himself on the treatment of a woman. Had I ever felt so worshipped and adored? If so, I couldn’t recover the memory.

My hand caressed the empty space next to me. He’d always held my fancy, even before either of us could be consciously aware of such implications. As far back as when he’d been a scrawny boy with round green eyes and tufts of brown hair that grew unrestrained, too wild for taming. Such was he when I’d first laid eyes upon him, myself a guileless, wide-eyed girl just six years of age. Our childhood was an innocent one, as most are, and a discordant one, as most aren’t. We’d been too young to fathom the consequences of our relationship. Even so, I could never regret it.

The door clicked open. I sat in surprise, pulling on my duvet to cover me. Why would Lydia not knock? This conduct was so unlike my meek maid, and certainly rude and improper. Under usual circumstances I’d not mind, but in my current exposed state I would’ve preferred for my servant to know her place and knock before entering. Would she not question my state of undress? Would I have answers to offer that wouldn’t further incriminate myself and fuel her suspicions?

But the sight which entered was not Lydia; indeed, this character was too tall, too broad, too much man. The clothes he’d discarded last night was now fitted on him in a most casual manner, shirt tucked carelessly into the waistband of the trousers he’d worn the day before and not fully buttoned. The tension in my body dwindled, and I let a sigh of relief. “You’re awake already? I thought I might make it back before you’d notice my absence.” He wore a crooked smile as he closed the door behind him, though it wasn’t smug but awkward, as if regretful he might’ve troubled me while he was gone.

“Daniel, where did you go? Did you not care to think you could get caught sneaking in and out of my room like that?” I said while he approached. I could not ignore how he moved with an arm behind his back, making his climb back into bed rather clumsy looking.

His smile was amusement now, a hint of a chuckle on the tilt of his lips. He leaned close, and his scent engulfed me, piquant and potent, woodsmoke and seasalt. I savoured the fragrance of him, and his warmth, and those lips, perfect for kissing, as they met mine in a sweet greeting. “Happy birthday, darling,” he muttered against my smile.

He pulled back, much to my dismay—though that sentiment was soon replaced by curiosity as he presented whatever he’d cared so much to hide behind his back. “What is that?” The words escaped me before I’d taken a proper glance at the object; a wooden box, handcrafted. The carving of a rose adorned the top lid and composed the main attraction. Still the rest of the box was as skilfully ornamented, only with less eye-catching swirls and foliage.

“Watch.” He bit his lip in thrill as was his habit—one I found rather endearing, I might add. He produced a small key from his pocket and inserted it into an opening hidden on the side.

I looked on in fascination as three turns of the key set the box in motion. The lid of the case rose all on its own, and as a lovely tune began its play, a small ballerina came to life and emerged from the box. She twirled around in a graceful dance, contentment in her gesture. I brought both hands to my lips, unable to contain my smile; she had long black hair, just like mine. “A music box!”

“Is it to your liking?” Daniel chuckled, and this time his grin was indeed quite self-satisfied.

I took the music box in my own hands and brought it closer to my face. The ballerina spun and spun without a care in the world; she was me, a version of myself I had dreamed of once. Unrestrained, unchained, free of her cage. Her face was simply painted, but the meaning in her dancing form could not escape me. Such I had seen myself, fantasized of another life. That he remembered… “It’s beautiful! How… When did you arrange this?” The inquiry came out more quiet and raspy than I had intended, but he heard.

“Good while ago,” said he with an air of nonchalance, as though it was little trouble. “The actual crafting of the box and ballerina wasn’t too difficult, but I needed some help to have all the parts fitted together. A clockmaker assisted me in getting the thing to actually play; as you know, I’m not much of a musician.”

I audibly gasped and stared up at him, unable to help myself. “You crafted this yourself?”

He seemed amused by my shock—no wonder, as I shouldn’t have been so surprised. He was the son of an artisan after all. The tune of the music box came to a halt at last, its last note fading into silence. “With my own bare hands. Look here,” he pointed to the interior of the lid, “There’s an inscription.”

My eyes followed to where he pointed; the ballerina had indeed stolen attention away from an engraving hidden behind her, on the curved inner side of the rose-adorned lid. Soul free of sorrow, heart light with hope; this be the path I follow, this is the path I chose. My chest swelled, and breath hitched. I wanted to speak, yet couldn’t bring the words to my tongue. Instead I choked on them, and they came caught in my throat.

Daniel tilted his head, understandable question lingering in his expression. Oh, those striking green eyes, this lovely visage. Handsomeness was a term he embodied so utterly; how was it fair for a face like that to completely disarm a woman? I composed myself and swallowed the cry which would’ve escaped me if I’d had just little less self restraint. My one hand cupped the side of my face while the other held the music box, and my smile had no end to it still. Since all else I felt refused to be spoken, I settled on the one feeling I could formulate with ease—amusement. “Some poet you’ve become, huh?” I laughed, shaking my head, yet in an effort to quell the rush inside me.

He grinned and gave my shoulder a gentle shove, an action so very like his behaviour as a boy. “Don’t laugh, I put in a great effort; see, the words rhyme!”

My giggles intensified at his reaction. I placed the music box on the nightstand and spun the key again, thrice; thus the ballerina resumed her carefree dance, light and free. She was magical, twirling such as she did. What a spirit to have, a life to live. To choose your own path to follow, and not the one chosen for you.

I turned towards my company again and pulled on him, locking him between my arms in a tight embrace. “Thank you, Daniel.” I squeezed in hope that the fierceness of my display of appreciation would deliver the message better than words could. “Thank you so much. It’s wonderful.”

“I do consider myself quite the expert on gift giving.” His chuckle was warm against my bare neck. A large hand planted firmly between my shoulder blades and pressed me deeper into his warmth. “I’m sorry if I had you worried, Serena. I only went to fetch my gift for you. I promise I was careful.”

“It’s fine, Daniel.” The words came out in a sigh of contentment. He was indeed so broad and so much bigger than I; his figure wrapped me in amenity, instilling within me an ease I couldn’t hope to discover elsewhere. It was an ease of novel excitement and nostalgic familiarity, all at once. “In truth, what bothered me was the idea that you’d left me to wake by myself.” I pulled away enough to look at him and brushed a strand of his long, brown locks from his face. “Today of all days.”

At those words, Daniel constrained his smile from widening too much, and I blushed by the notion that I’d said something to make him so satisfied with himself. “Well, let me assure you that you needn’t worry of that, my love.” He leaned over me, and I fell back into silk. I had no need for the duvet to cover my naked figure any more; his broad form was quite enough coverage. “You should know that the only instance in which I would leave this bed willingly would be the moment you tire of me and kick me out.”

I bit my lip as a gratifying sensation waved through me, and my fingers found way to the waistband of his trousers, pulling the shirt loose of it. “If that is a challenge,” I laughed, “then go ahead and make your attempt at tiring me.”

By the smirk on his lips, it seemed he accepted. The music box played its last note; it rang into the room and deadened to silence, and so a music of another kind took its place. Lord pray that Lydia would have the thought to let her lady sleep in on her birthday.

So that was all for this century’s anniversary! Thank you so much to all my friends who made these amazing gifts for her, and all of you who participated in celebrating her; it means so much

Until next century, darlings! (I’m kidding, I’m not gonna be inactive on this blog a whole century…)

#amnesia the dark descent #daniel of mayfair #original character #fluff #fanart #fanfiction #birthday #anniversary #gift art for soto #art wip #friends #serena da silva #daniel james wilkinson #seraniel

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