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godslino · 3 months

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MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #stray kids #skz #first date series

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vall-the-pen · 27 days

Text

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Synopsis: trying to spend time with your boyfriend while keeping your relationship private… or a secret…

Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, low-profile/secret relationship, angst no comfort, writer!reader,

Warnings: slightly toxic if you squint, guilt-tripping, neglect, arguing, long intro (it gets good i promise), cursing, not proofread

Note: (Title from Taylor Swift’s ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)’) I tried to make this as in-character as possible while trying to convey the conflict of the plot so please let me know if there are any inaccuracies

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The walls of Lambad’s tavern grew dim as the sun set; you, Tighnari, and Kaveh sat at a table having a little get-together. It didn’t feel complete, though, because two members of the group have yet to arrive. Cyno said he would be late due to an interrogation he has to do. And Alhaitham… he didn’t really give a notice but you all figured he was busy, being the acting grand sage and all that.

After a 30-minute rant about Kaveh’s clients, you talked about writing a new novel but you had no idea how to start it.

“Questions are overrated,” said Kaveh as he downed his drink, “I suggest you start with an at-large murder suspect being chased down by government officials—not guardes or the millelith, literal government officials.”

“You could ask Cyno for inspiration,” Tighnari suggests. You consider the idea but you figured Cyno wouldn’t have the time. “Or you could ask Alhaitham. I remember he has some experience in that field too.��

“Ah, yes,” you reply meekly. “I had forgotten.”

Hearing Alhaitham’s name felt like a stab to the heart, a curse laid upon you. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or suffering. After two years of dating, not a single soul knew about the two of you. As you asked yourself why that is, you give yourself an excuse that he simply wasn’t ready to be out. That he wanted you to make a name for yourself in case people would only remember you as the acting grand sage’s partner and not your rightful title as a writer.

When he first introduced the idea of keeping your relationship low-profile, you thought nothing of it. You knew he had no ill-intentions with the situation, so you agreed. But you thought the coast would be clear 6 months into the relationship.

During that time, the only signs of affection you got from him were when he was seldom tired from work and came home to you, longing for your warmth and drowning you with the most beautifully crafted compliments you could only dream of hearing. It was the side of him only you got to see. It was almost an honor being able to witness such greatness, all the while feeling like a goddess, worshipped and gratified by the gift of your presence.

Nowadays, you no longer felt like a deity worth praying to; that side of him became rarer than it already was.

The times when you were together—together being with the rest of your friends—you would always try to make some sort of contact with him just to feel the thrill of love your heart was aching to have, only for him to starve you of it and leave.

You felt alone, neglected, desperate, nonexistent, like a forgotten dream worth pursuing.

Everytime you thought of leaving, frames and fragments of his flattering psalms and echoing touch seemed worth the mind-numbing pain you’re going through. You’re the only one for me, he’d say. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. He would gaze upon you like you were a full moon, and you would embrace him like he was the sun.

But basking under the sun is bound to get you burned.

About an hour later, already midnight, Cyno had already arrived but Alhaitham was nowhere to be seen. Kaveh has had too many drinks and is now drunk to the core. And with the hopes of seeing Alhaitham’s face for once, you drank your fair share too. Your cheeks glowed with a drunken flush, a fire setting aflame to your frozen heart. Something he could never do.

“Looks like the acting grand sage will not be joining us,” Cyno pointed out.

A guffaw escaped from your throat, “What is there to even expect, Alhaitham has been busy since that damned Azar did… something.”

You can’t think clearly. The laugh you let out almost sounded like a sob, and to be honest, you were on the verge of crying. You were just tired. You needed the warmth only the love of your life could provide.

Then out of the blue, the voice you longed for an eternity echoed through the tavern, tired and monotonous. “Apologies for my utmost tardiness, there were some issues at the akademiya I needed to handle.”

Alhaitham.

Your stomach hurt all of the sudden. You watched as he walked to the seat opposite of you. Shouldn’t you be happy now? You were just about to break down because he wasn’t here. Now that he is, you should be content and watch your boyfriend from afar. But all you could feel was betrayal, the blank agony of despair, the cruel sting of rejection.

He failed to notice the tears that glossed your eyes, assuming it was the reflection of the light. Your gaze pierced his soul with desperation, begging for him to console you and just… do whatever. You were asking for even a squeak, a sliver of concern, the bare minimum.

“Tighnari, how is Collei doing with her studies?” Like he had a shield for your painful daggers, he didn’t even glance at your direction. Disappointment filled you like a glass of wine. You should be used to this by now—the overwhelming weight when he avoided your leg, another desperate cry you needed him to hear.

Tighnari shared Collei’s progress after seeing that you were okay. As much as you were proud of her, you prayed to every archon not to let her be in your situation. Your heart shreds for the other person, it screams his name like a priest in worship, and all that for naught.

The group laughed at something, you weren’t listening all that much. You just felt… empty.

Kaveh’s voice called your name, “Isn’t that right, Y/N?” The group turns to you, who was dazed and distracted. The architect immediately noticed this. He patted your cold hand, “Y/N?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. Yeah, sure.”

Alhaitham laughed, “You seem distracted tonight, Y/N. If you’re looking to write for the akademiya, that kind of attitude will not be tolerated.”

Somehow you got defensive. Was it Alhaitham’s obliviousness? The way he made it seem like you were aloof? His laugh that mocked you in your desolate state? Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it made you snap.

“Ah, Alhaitham, akademiya this, akademiya that—there are more things to life than work, you know.” Your voice covered up your attacks as simple friendly banter. You’ve gotten good at sucking up your anxieties and steadying your voice all thanks to him. Now you can cover yourself up real nice when you commit a crime. You have a knife in mind, and you’re ready to kill. “Like, I don’t know, a partner, per say.”

Stab.

The grand sage scoffed, “You know very well I don’t have time for such trivial things.” His muscles flex as he crossed his arms. So these were the words he chose to say to you, after centuries of broken promises and empty plates.

“Maybe you would if you actually made the time for one.”

Stab.

“You are aware that you just ignored what I just said, right? Are you even listening?”

Stab.

“Oh, I’ve been listening. For the past two years, I’ve been listening my butt out for you.” It was scarring how unbothered Alhaitham was; you wanted to scream at him. The tightening of your chest, the prickling of tears behind your eyes, the weight of despair settling in your stomach, could he see what you’re going through? “Now, all I ask is a little bit of sympathy because I have been suffering all alone, waking up to an empty bed, not even a-“

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Alhaitham interrupted you, somewhat panicked. You didn’t realize how loud you were being, up from your seat with your palm stinging from how hard it hit the table. “You know, if you’re having boy problems, you don’t have to take it out on me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”

Right then and there, your world began crashing down. “Alhaitham,” Cyno muttered disapprovingly, making Alhaitham realize how rude he sounded. The tavern’s customers hushed to listen to your table. You hadn’t realized there were so many people.

Without even looking around, you could feel their eyes on you, whispers riddled with scandal.

“They’re being so loud.”

“Has she no shame?”

“In the presence of Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, too.”

“Look, the general mahamatra is there; she really needs to watch herself.”

The embarrassment, the anger; it all fuelled you with a feeling you could not explain. No metaphor could capture the entirety of the wickedness of a man. How come he gets to sit there with everyone’s respect while you grovel in your puddle of tears? How come he’s having the time of his life while you’re burning in hell?

“You’re right,” you began, eyes dulled and void of life—of love, “You’re not. Okay, that’s all the liquor I can handle, guys. I think I’ll be heading home now.”

“Y/N,” Kaveh called, standing from his seat to escort you on your way out.

“I can walk myself, Kaveh.” You grabbed your things and took a sip of water. “Acting Grand Sage, humblest apologies.” Once again, you looked at him with utmost disappointment before leaving the tavern and heading home.

—

I am adrift in a sea of longing, drowning in the silence of his absence, clutching to memories like driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean. Yet still, I cling to the fading embers of our love, fearing the darkness that awaits should I let them fade to ash.

Hours after you returned home, sleep had not been your friend. As much as it would be typical, you cried until your eyes stung. It was now 4am, the time Alhaitham usually wakes up. Lost in your never-ending, ever-agonizing thoughts, you stared blankly at the dining room, wondering if he will finally recognize his mistakes, how much pain you’ve been in.

The knob of your front door twisted open, and surprise, surprise, it was Alhaitham who entered your apartment. “What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” He was not one to raise his voice like that, or even curse.

“Of all the nights I was available, this was when and how you choose to talk to me?” Your voice was the opposite—calm, sad, empty.

“Do you realize you nearly told everyone about our relationship?” He spotted a notebook on your crossed lap and grabbed it. “What’s that, ‘I am adrift in a sea of..’ what? Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“You specialized in languages, Alhaitham, you’ll figure it out.”

The man scoffed, “I’m not a mind reader, Y/N, if you could stop being immature-“

“You’re calling me immature? Okay, what about you keeping our two-year relationship a fucking secret?” The both of you continued raising your voices at each other. If people in the tavern hadn’t already spread rumors, this will surely start them. “Just tell me you’re ashamed of me, Alhaitham!” Then the man fell silent. Serves him right. “Tell me you don’t love me, so you can have a concrete reason to leave!”

“You know being the acting grand sage was never an easy task. The Fatui and other rebelling organizations have me as their number one target, and they are more than willing to hurt anyone to get their way! I was keeping us a secret to protect you! Seeing you getting hurt would mean the end of the world.”

“Getting hurt?” You scoff, “If you never wanted me to get hurt, you’re doing a terrible fucking job. I had to sit through multiple tables with empty seats because you were never home. Do you know how embarrassing that is for myself? I had to tolerate every ounce of contact you avoided because ‘someone might see us.’ In case you couldn’t get how much pain I’m in, let me sum it up for you—IT HURTS MORE THAN DEATH, ALHAITHAM!”

As the last echoes of your argument faded into the silence of the empty apartment, it felt as though the very foundations of your world was crumbling around them. Each word spoken was like a dagger to the heart, tearing apart the fragile bonds of love that had once held you together.

Every word you said stung his chest, the last part beating him to a pulp. It was too late for regret to cross his mind. “I really did love you, Alhaitham, more than anything.”

Those words… he hadn’t heard them in what felt like eternity. All he wanted to do was melt into your arms and apologize endlessly for all his wrongdoings, the times he barely came home, the mornings he could’ve spent with you. He’s been feeling this way for what feels like centuries. If he opened his arms to you, would you still embrace him? Would you still forgive him?

“But I can’t keep giving myself excuses to tolerate all of this.”

He looked at you, your eyes that were once so full of light now dimming of any source. The desperation, the longing you both share. There was so much sadness in your eyes. Have you always looked at him that way? Alhaitham was always quick on his feet—he had to find a way to convince you to stay!

“Y/N,” he began, “We can’t just give up on everything we’ve been through. All the dates, anniversaries, everything we took our time to make—it will all be a waste if we give up now.”

“I think you gave up on us the first time you dropped my hand when I reached for you.”

You were slowly slipping from his grasp, from his future. “I’m willing to give you all the time you need. Every meal, every date, every word you desire, I will make time for all of it. I promise you.”

“How can I know this will be another empty promise? How will I know you won’t do this again? You were never the type to offer everything so helplessly, Alhaitham.”

“Y/N, can’t you see-“

“Where were you during my sleepless nights? Where were you when I had prepared the perfect dinner for us? Where were you when I stood in the middle of the park, waiting for a certain someone to show up?

You were never there, Alhaitham. But I forgave you for all of that. I gave you a million last chances.”

A million last chances… you were thinking of leaving him beforehand? When he couldn’t seem to move his mouth, you decided you’ve had enough.

“Please, leave.”

It was too late for him now. He was long gone from saving you, from saving this relationship. There was nothing left to say, or do.

In the dim light of dawn, you both stood alone, tears a silent testament to the shattered dreams and broken promises that littered the floor like shards of glass. And as you watched your former lover walk away, a part of you knew that the wounds inflicted that night would never fully heal, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of regret and the haunting echo of what could have been.

(Part 2 is out now!)

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham angst #4ggravate #angst #alhaitham x reader #genshin angst #genshin fanfic #alhaitham fanfic

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akechi-fancam · 2 years

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i do not gaf abt season 3 of bleach ishida is literally a homosexual

#bye the writers fell off so hard #@ceo-of-funny brought it to my attention how much of a whiteknight ishida became at the start and god is she right 😭#he was such a good character before why did they do this #THE WAY LITERALLY NO ONE IN THE ‘saving private rukia’ GROUP WAS ATTRACTED TO ORIHIME BEFORE AYE-#like hardly anyone was into herrr why did they do this to my boy #he is a home essential tite kubo you must understand sir #for clarification i am not so deeply absorbed in my own silly opinion about a fictional character that i can’t accept the truth #i don’t have an issue w him being written as straight but the execution is just so poor #it’s so embarrassing that i just have to laugh when kurotsuchi clowns on him for his quincy ideals #sorry not sorry bitch kurotsuchi is spitting [blanket statement] facts #anyways ishida is the same man in my head i am not taking any criticism #cringe live reaction

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nanowrimo · 6 months

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🎉 NaNoWriMo is here! 😱 ✍️

Here are some tips on making sure you're all set for success these first few days:

1. Make sure you've set your goal for November!

You can do this by clicking on your main dashboard. You'll see buttons to either join with a new novel or join with an existing novel.

2. Update your word count!

When you're knee deep in writing, you might forget to update your word count! Remember to update it when you can, since it helps you track your goals for the month. If you need help updating your word count, check out our FAQ!

3. Connect with other writers!

Find and join your local region on the NaNoWriMo website to connect with other writers in your area. You can even join multiple regions! You can also create or join a private writing group of up to 20 people. We've shared some tips on what makes a good writing group!

4. Join a NaNoWriMo event!

We're kicking off November 1st this year with a series of Write-Together-A-Thon livestreams where published authors share writing prompts and we all write together on YouTube. Plus, you can check out other virtual events happening through the rest of the month!

5. Have fun writing!!!!

No matter what happens during this month, just know you already have whatever it takes to bring your story to life. You got this!! 💖

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2023 #writing #writeblr #by nano hq

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tojisun · 4 months

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WIP: still your passenger (re: deftones)

simon ghost riley x gn reader

!! angst; canon-compliant // i rlly loved this one but writers block hit me bad every time i try completing it :< might pick it up one day (hopefully!!)

there’s a new medic in the base – a pretty girl with a pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty laugh. she’s beautiful, perfect with her auburn hair and her chestnut eyes; striking with her trimmed waist and sloping curves.

you’ve only met her once when you needed an aspirin for your fever and never more after that, after all, there’s really not much of a reason for a base assistant like you to visit the station. so all that you’ve heard about her came from privates and base operators, greedy in the way they took in the sight she makes and how darling she looks. you can’t really blame them, not after seeing her; seeing how she is a beam of something soft and tender amidst their chaotic group.

it had been soap who started giving you the specifics.

her name’s erin, a lass hailing from yorkshire. the only family she’s got is a younger sister, anna, who is in university for astrophysics.

“they’re a family of smart nuts,” johnny mused as he spun his shot of whiskey. “can you believe it? she’s pretty and wise.”

you oohed and aahed before telling him to remember to keep it in his pants because erin, beautiful and darling and gentle erin, is an important member of the squad. that she is necessary in the base; having been sought out for the very reasons that got johnny acting like a fool.

“of course i’ll keep it in!” johnny whined, bumping his head on the counter. “i don’t want to anger LT, y’know?”

cold dread washed over you upon hearing what he said, the quiet thrum of the alcohol being chased away by the slice of his words. you felt like bleeding, like you’ve been cut open and doused with ice, blistering chill creeping up from the softness of your lungs to your stuttering heart.

“oh?” you remember asking, your voice startlingly void of emotions. “why would he be angry now?” your hands trembled and so you hid them from view, clenching them on your lap instead.

johnny turned to you and quirked up a secretive smile. “why else?”

the weight of your grief pressed onto your chest, threatening to crack the columns of your ribs. you felt afloat, untethered, and you blinked back the sudden prickling you feel in the back of your eyes.

you laughed with johnny, trying to smother the ache. trying not to drown in the harsh pools of your heartbreak.

because of course.

of course.

you and simon are friends, but nothing more. nothing beyond the hushed voices and whispered ‘i’m glad you’re safe’ pressed onto each other’s cheeks because neither of you made things official anyway. no risks were taken, no promises to break.

everything with him was just physical – chasing the cold nights away with the warmth of each other’s bodies pressed onto each other, fighting nightmares with each other's touches.

sure simon cradled you in his tender embrace but that was all. just a temporary passion despite your everlasting yearning.

“y’ready to go back to the base?” johnny asked and you said yes, another lie that dribbled from your trembling lips. because after that night, you knew that things were never going to be the same.

—————

ignoring simon was easy. it’s not like you needed to do much to avoid him, anyway, not with the way he was gravitating around erin. any other day it would have been laughable how simon followed her around like she’s got a bear of a man for her shadow but, well. seeing him be so taken by her makes you ache.

the sparse moments he has that were sometimes spent with you were now overwritten by his visits to the facility where erin usually is. everyone who didn’t know that ghost was smitten over the new medic certainly knew now; he had long stopped making it a secret and instead, began to posture over those who tried pursuing erin.

he was never a jealous man. that was until her, you guess.

and it’s not like you can fault erin for how simon acts, because could you blame him? could you blame anyone for that matter?

erin was, is, beautiful. she had a laugh that sounded like wind chimes and had a sparkle that perpetually made her eyes look brighter. she was soft even after seeing everyone’s troubles or their anger, always a beacon of tenderness amidst their bleeding wounds. but she was also fierce, a fighter with a bite that no one expected, but maybe you all should have because no one would ever survive being out in combat if one isn’t strong, anyway.

erin was, well, she was someone you knew simon needed in his life.

so, again, could you really blame him?

you have always known simon. you have always understood past his pretences – he wanted to settle. he wanted a life beyond the fight; wanted a family to come home to.

he’s told you this so many times, hasn't he? murmured his wishes and desires at the top of your head as he cradled you in his arms, letting the exhaustion of the day bleed away from your pores as you shared a breath with him; he had waxed poetries for a distant future, one you have always thought you would have been a part of.

one you thought you would have shared with him.

but you knew. despite your self-reassurances that you meant something to simon, you knew that when he envisioned his life, his future, it was one that did not include you.

it hurts, you thought to yourself as you pressed the back of your palms over your eyes. it hurts.

but how could it? how could you hurt over losing something that you never even had in the first place?

#suns.f #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley angst #erin - but NOT the dbf!simon one #suns

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chaconnehoon · 3 months

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Behind closed doors- P.SH

✰ Boyfriend! Sunghoon x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Just a comfy night in with your boyfriend, who tries to keep his cool image despite what happens behind closed doors.

WC: 1.5k

Cw: Suggestive fluff(?) Pls do not read if you’re uncomfortable with anything even slightly sexual ! Or if you’re a minor !

A/N: Just something to make my existence known on this app! I’m done lurking, it’s time to unleash my inner writer(cue evil laugh)

Your boyfriend was never the type to go around boasting your relationship, especially the intimate parts. Of course he would brag about his beautiful girlfriend, and he’d feel his ego grow slightly when his friends praised your healthy relationship, but he never felt the need to show off in any particular way.

You however, are the complete opposite. Any chance you get, you’re bringing up your handsome and so talented boyfriend whom you are practically obsessed with. Of course, with a man like Sunghoon, who wouldn’t be? Your friend group always swore you and your boyfriend are the real “he fell first, she fell harder” trope, but you know your boyfriend is just as in love with you as you are with him.

That’s why you’re unfazed in situations like these; with your friends cracking jokes about how you’re the clingy obsessed girlfriend, while Sunghoon is the chill laidback boyfriend that somehow puts up with you. You know they mean know harm, and you’re actually glad they brought it up, knowing you can use this conversation against Sunghoon later, when you’re alone.

A big roar of laughter errupts from the group when the eldest makes a move towards the topic. “I mean, Jake is clingy and we can’t even deal with him! Props to you for dealing with your own little Jake everyday.” Heeseung laughs along with the crowd into his red solo cup before taking a sip. Sunghoon just rolls eyes and sits up before speaking, “At least my ‘little Jake’ is cute. Plus, you’re all just not use to someone being this down bad for you.” Sunghoon retorts and scoots his chair closer to yours before gently grabbing your hand that was in your lap.

“Hey!” Jake whines and sinks himself into the lawn chair like a child, “I’m cute.” He murmurs through pouted lips and looks at Sunghoon with puppy eyes. Sunghoon scoffs before whispering a “you wish” for only you and him to hear. You giggle lightly before taking your hand back from Sunghoon’s to grab your own red cup.

You look him directly in the eyes before speaking, “You know…” You trail off with a small smirk as Sunghoon widens his eyes before narrowing his gaze, still staring into the side of your head even when you turn to look away from him and into your group of friends. “Hoonie tends to be quite the needy one when it’s just us two.” You snicker and turn back to look at him, only to see him still staring right at your face, only this time with bright red cheeks. Seeing him so easily flustered makes your heart warm, knowing that you’re not lying about the way he acts in private at all.

You wink at your boyfriend and he sighs before focusing his gaze back into the bonfire. A few cheers and hollers are heard before someone is speaking again. “Is that true Hoonie? Is our Hoonie getting some princess treatment during alone time?” Jay teases and wiggles his eyebrows, causing Sunghoon to shake his head and run a hand over his face. “I hope you know you’re all so annoying.” Sunghoon pauses, “But never you my girl.” He turns to you and pets the side of your head, which earns a few more cheers before Jake is whining again, “Quit sweet taking her, we’re talking about you being the receiving one, not her!” He sounds offended for some reason and you think he’s maybe had one too many drinks tonight.

“What the hell, freak.” Sunoo’s upper lip lifts in disgust as he aims his insult towards Jake, however the conversation flips when Jake is standing up from his chair and flexing his arm that isn’t occupied by holding his cup. “Yup! A freak and proud! You know I’ll eat a-” before Jake could finish, Jay is slapping a palm over his mouth and guiding him back inside the house. “Alright! Seems like someone is way too intoxicated to have this conversation right now.” Jay voices your earlier thoughts while dragging Jake through the now open sliding door. “Or any conversation.” Heeseung is adding on while standing up from his chair and following the other two inside.

You and Sunghoon stand up and make your way towards the door until you hear Sunoo speaking from behind you. “It takes a powerful man to allow himself to be dominated in bed. Just saying.” You both turn around to see Sunoo cleaning up any extra trash with a light smile on his face. Exchanging glances, you just shrug and Sunghoon slowly nods his head before patting Sunoo on the back. “Yeah…thanks, goodnight Sun!” Sunghoon grabs your hand and rushes inside, pulling you with him.

✰

“You know, I don’t bring up your soft side to embarrass you, baby.” You set your phone down on Sunghoon’s desk and look back at him as he sits on his bed. “Hm?” He raises an eyebrow and tries to act like he isn’t understanding what you’re saying. You know him better than this though, and you know there’s a possibility of him being slightly embarrassed of you exposing him. “I know…I’m just usually quiet about our sex life. I don’t really let my friends know what’s going on.” He shrugs and gets comfortable in bed, laying down with his hands behind his head.

You smile softly and walk towards the bed, gently climbing on top of him to straddle his hips. “Yes, but there’s a reason for that.” You let the words out softly and play with this hoodie drawstrings, “Just like the reason you wear this hoodie when you want to cover up any marks I leave behind.” You feel his body get tense under you and know you’ve hit the nerve of what he’s most ashamed of.

Of course it’s different for a man to be even slightly submissive in bed. You don’t blame your boyfriend for being ashamed of that when it’s less socially acceptable. However, with such an open and comfortable friend group like the one you have, you know he shouldn’t feel ashamed for being treated good like he deserved. Even with Jake’s proud claims of being an ass eater, your friend group has never shamed each other of their sexual desires.

“You know they won’t actually judge you for what you like or don’t like in bed.” You’re looking up from his hoodie and tilting your head as if it’s a question. Sunghoon just nods his head and stares at his ceiling like he’s deep in thought. “So why do you hide it?” You’re practically whispering now like you’re afraid to hurt his feelings. “I dunno” Sunghoon mumbles lowly and you can feel the vibrations run through your body from on top of him.

Placing his hands on your hips, he slowly sits up and looks you in the eyes and takes a deep inhale in before speaking. “I guess I’ve always just told myself these things, but I’ve never heard anyone verbally confirm it before.” He looks away for a second, and then back into your eyes, this time with a more confident gaze and that’s when you know you’ve got him.

“So my big strong boyfriend has been afraid of his friends’ opinions this whole time?” You ask although you already know the answer. Before he can respond you laugh to yourself and speak again, “Even when Jake has admitted to whimpering and whining? Or Heeseung admitting he likes being handcuffed? Even Jay! Remember the other night? He told us about that older woman that he let slap him!” Sunghoon scrunches his nose in disgust at the thought of his friends’ intimate moments before letting out a laugh you knew felt good to release.

You could feel his body easing up and his grip on your hips lightened. You lean down towards his face, close enough to nudge your noses together and feel his lips when you talk. “Their opinions don’t really matter in the end.” You press a small kiss to his lips and pull away quickly. “What matters is you feeling good with me.”

You kiss him a bit longer this time before pulling away and speaking again, “Because you’re my beautiful boy. And you shouldn’t hide the marks I leave on your beautiful body.” You kiss him one last time, then drag your lips down his chin and trace them along his jaw in soft pecks. Reaching the sharp angle between his jaw and his neck, you lightly suck and nip at the skin and you feel him inhale sharply at the new sensation.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you impossibly close to his body and you think you can feel his heart beating against your own. You kiss him softly again, trapping his bottom lip between yours and lightly swiping your tongue across it. He parts his mouth slightly and whimpers at the feeling of your tongue softly brushing against his.

Maybe becoming a whimpering and submissive mess under you is something he thinks he needs to be ashamed of, but you know that when he’s with you, the last thing he worries about is what other people think. At this time, he knows he’s safe behind these closed doors, and he’s proud to be nobody’s boy but yours.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen suggestive #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x female reader

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captaincvans · 24 days

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Love Letter (Wonwoo x Reader)

Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N finds herself feeling like her gift for Wonwoo's birthday was far from good enough when she saw what Carats and other members got him.

Warnings: Mention of IV drips, fainting, and hospitals.

Word Count: 3330+

Author’s Note: Just a small piece of Wonwoo fic that was floating in my head for a while. I finally had the time to finish it. Comments/reblogs feeds a writer's soul! Enjoy~

She watched from the corner of the couch at the rambunctious boys, her heart warming at the thought that Wonwoo has such precious friendships in his life. He finally picked up her gift, having gone through most of them and seeing as how hers was the first one set on the table. Seungkwan passed him the big box first, and she was excited to see his reaction. She worked over time for the last few months in order to be able to afford the gift, but the effort was worth it, in her opinion.

The boys hollered at the sight of the shiny Apple box, and Mingyu shouted. “Wait- wait- which one of you forgot that Carats already gave him a personalized Airpods Max?” Most of the boys shook her head, but she didn’t have it in her to tell them. Nobody put their names on the gifts so no one could tell who the gift was from. Her heart sank as Seungcheol took the box and set it aside, still thinking it was from one of the boys. In doing so, she watched her smaller gift fall on the carpet, underneath the copious amount of wrapping paper and tissue paper on the floor.

“Don’t use that one- use the one you got from our precious fans,” he said, laughing. She admired their loyalty to their fans, but found her heart still sinking when Wonwoo nodded. She worked hard for the gift, and seeing it get tossed aside felt like her efforts were also being tossed aside. She knew Wonwoo still appreciated the gift as he was never the type to take what he’s given for granted, but a part of her wished she had given him his gift privately instead. Y/N noticed Mingyu pulling out his phone, telling the boys that he was going to start a live on Instagram. She took this time to slink back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Her relationship with Wonwoo was known to the fans, but she still wanted to respect the responsibility that comes with his job. If she were to do anything wrong, it would reflect poorly on him, so in order to avoid that she tried to live as quietly as she could.

Y/N heard her boyfriend’s speech to their fans, thanking them for their support. She cleared up the mess of having to host 13 boys in the kitchen, and made her way back to the living room once she heard they were done their livestream.

“Y/N, we’re going to go out for drinks, wanna come?” Seungkwan asked, motioning for her to join their group. He gave her a side hug before pulling her to sit beside Wonwoo, Dokyeom standing to make space for her.

She looked at the mess in the living room, and shook her head. “I think I’ll just stay and clean up. You guys have fun!”

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo asked quietly beside her, not wanting to pressure her.

“Yea. Go have fun with the boys.” She gave a short peck to his cheek, rolling her eyes at the hollering going on around her. As they all headed out, they each gave her a short hug, thanking her for hosting them. Y/N picked up her gift from the floor, looking at the designer items the boys had gifted her boyfriend. She knew that he wasn’t materialistic, and would’ve loved anything they had given him, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was lacking in her ability to spoil him. She had worked a lot of overtime hours in the last few months, having to go to the doctors for IV drops a couple of times because she was so exhausted. Luckily, Wonwoo was also busy with promotions, but it made her feel even emptier when everything was said and done. She sighed, placing the small box back on the couch and cleaning up the living room. The smaller box had contained a heartfelt card, an old MP3 player with a customized playlist she had created to represent her love for him, along with a Spotify code as she knew he would want it on his phone as well. While she was going around cleaning, she hadn’t realized the box slipping between the cushion of the couch.

The next few days were busy as she decided to continue working overtime since Wonwoo was busy anyways. She felt like their relationship was barely hanging on the last few months because of his busy schedule, and the fact that she was working more than ever before in order to be able to afford his gift and hosting the get-together with his team. Woozi and Seungcheol had offered to help her pay for the party, but she didn’t feel right about it. She wanted to spoil them, and she didn’t want them to think that she was taking advantage of their finances like that.

Wonwoo came home late at night after recording some b-side tracks for their repackaged album. He couldn’t even bother making it to his bedroom so he decided to crash on the couch. Once his body landed on the usually soft cushion, he immediately noticed a firm item in between the pillows. He dug around, finding a small box he remembered seeing at his birthday party a week ago. He opened the box, seeing the letter slipped out.

To my WON and only, Happy Birthday!! Please excuse my crappy handwriting, but I wanted to write down how much I love you and how much I love us. Two years ago we met each other, and my life would never be the same since. I am so thankful for another year to be by your side and I want you to know that no matter what I want to always be with you. My heart is so full of love, and yet I can’t express them with words so I hope you will feel all my love in the songs I’ve put in this mixtape. Always yours ❤️

Just as he was about to play her playlist, his phone buzzed. It was Woozi apologizing and asking him to come back to the studio. He sighed tiredly, pressing the palm of his hands against his eyes. It was times like this that he missed Y/N’s touch, and how she’s always been able to relieve his stress with just a simple hug. He missed her so much. He opened the last message from her. It was her telling him about finishing work and going to the mall, and showing him what she had bought. It was the little, mundane things that Wonwoo appreciated in their relationship. Since they found it hard to meet up sometimes, she made it a point to send little updates about her day, and he would do the same. As he was reading through her messages, and the commentary on her video haul that she sent him, he noticed the time she had sent the message of leaving work. His eyebrows furrowed as she usually leaves work around 6 to 6:30, but the timestamp had read her messaging him closer to 8pm. He scrolled back through their messages, easily finding her little messages after work and they were all late. It wasn’t as if her morning messages came later either, they were all at the same early 6am as they had always been. His thoughts were interrupted, when Woozi sent another message asking if he was coming. Wonwoo confirmed that he was, and made his way back to the studio while thinking about what would keep his girlfriend late at work. She hadn’t mentioned any big projects or anything that could keep her longer, but perhaps she just forgot to tell him. He sent her a few text to ease his mind, maybe it wasn’t as a big deal as he had in his mind.

Goodnight, baby I just got home from the studio, but Woozi asked me to come back to record more. I’m so tired and I miss you so much I noticed that you’ve been getting off work later than usual? Is everything alright?

He pocketed the MP3 player, and went back to the studio where he crashed for a few hours after recording. It was a little before noon when Wonwoo woke up, opening his eyes to an uneasy-looking Dino, and he suddenly he was on alert.

“Hyung-”

“Dino? What’s wrong?”

“We charged your phone when you were sleeping because it was dead, and when we turned it on it wouldn't stop buzzing.”

Wonwoo felt his heart plummeting and beating miles per hour, he nodded in thanks and quickly took his phone from Dino’s outstretched hand. He realized a few more members were there, and they had halted the recording. It was easy to see why they were panicking, usually if it was an emergency amongst the members, there would be at least a few more members who would know, but this seemed like a personal matter. He unlocked his phone, seeing 10+ phone calls, and 30+ messages from Eunji- Y/N’s best friend. He skimmed through messages, bile rising from his throat when he saw the words

‘Fainted… hospital… overworked…’

He got up quickly, catching the eye of all his members.

“What? What is it?” Seungcheol asked worriedly.

“Y/N’s in the hospital,” he said before rushing out.

“Wonwoo!” Seungcheol called. “You’re in no state to drive. I’ll drive you.”

Wonwoo nodded in appreciation, knowing that it was faster to get a ride from his members than wait for his manager. The ride to the hospital was tense, and Wonwoo was able to call Eunji back.

“Eunji- how is she?” he asked once he heard her pick up.

“She’s fine now,” she said with a small sigh. “They gave her some fluids, and they’re just looking over her now. Where were you, Wonwoo?”

“I’m so sorry. I was recording all night, and fell asleep.” He stopped when she spoke again.

“Right. I guess it can’t be helped.” Wonwoo always appreciated Y/N and Eunji’s ability to not linger on things beyond their control, seeming always focused on fixing the problem. “Did you like her gift?”

“Gift?”

“Yea- your birthday was last week, right?” When he didn’t respond she continued. “Y/N told me a few months ago that she was planning a birthday party for you and your team. She wanted to spoil you guys, and tried going all out- even buying you the Airpods Max. I’m guessing that’s why she’s here.”

“What?” Wonwoo was still trying to process everything, and the anxiety of Y/N being in the hospital wasn’t helping him see the bigger picture. He needed Eunji to spell it out for him.

“She worked overtime for the last few months to be able to afford your gift and the party. I mean she wasn’t broke by any means, but throwing a party for 13 guys can get pretty expensive. I think some of your members offered to split the cost, but she was worried that they would see her as someone too focused on money.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened at her revelation of what she went through that day. He remembered the comment Mingyu made about the Airpods, and how he had carelessly tossed it aside. He felt so guilty for not even considering the effort she put in that day. In a way the idol life had spoiled him as staff members were usually the one preparing their birthday events. He didn’t know how much they cost but he could imagine it was more than Y/N would’ve spent on herself. He wasn’t blind to the amount of effort she put in, rivaling the decorations that a team of staff would prepare for their birthday streams.

“I didn’t know,” Wonwoo said quietly. “She never told me.”

“That’s our stubborn Y/N. She probably didn’t want to make anyone feel bad. Knowing her, she was probably overworking both at work and trying to make the party happen that she stopped taking care of herself. I would’ve thought she would stop doing overtime after the party though.”

“I’m at the hospital now.” He turned to his leader. “Cheol-”

“Go. Text us if you need anything. We can come by-” he paused. “If she wants us there.” He felt guilty about that day, thinking about how hurt she might have been.

“Thanks.” Wonwoo got to the room Eunji texted him, taking a deep breath before slowly opening the door. Eunji was sitting beside the empty bed, scrolling through her phone. “Where is she?” he asked, suddenly on alert again.

“They took her for some more testing,” she told him, motioning for him to sit at the chair across from her.

He shook his head, looking around the room, his need to see her making him restless.

“I’m glad you’re here now. I know you don’t like to push her to talk, but she’s more like you than you think, Wonwoo.” Before she could say more, Y/N was wheelchaired in with her nurse. Her eyes widened when she saw Wonwoo, and she was about to reach for him when the nurse had gently helped her back on the bed.

“Your tests are all done,” he informed her. “The doctor will be in shortly to discharge you.”

“I have to take my leave now,” Eunji said as the nurse left them alone. “But call me if you need anything, alright?” She turned to both of them before picking up her bag, offering a supportive smile before taking her leave.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo started, his voice cracking with how emotional he was feeling. “What happened?” Despite Eunji telling him the story, he wanted to hear it from her mouth.

“I worked a little too hard, and fainted- kinda hit my head a bit so that’s why the doctors are doing all these test,” she answered him in a light tone. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm.” He took the chair Eunji was sitting on, and brought it closer to her bed. “Why were you working so hard? I saw you’ve been working overtime.”

Her eyes immediately shifted to her lap. “You’ve been busy so I wanted to keep my mind off missing you.”

He knew she was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. “It has nothing to do with this?” he asked, pulling out the MP3 player from his pocket.

Y/N gasped, thinking she had brought it home with her instead of leaving it at Wonwoo’s couch.

“I read your letter. You got me the Airpods and made me a playlist- even putting it on this MP3 player you knew I would like. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know Carats had already gotten you one…” she trailed off. “And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or make anyone feel bad.”

He was about to put a hand on her head, but stopped when he remembered she hit her head. Instead, he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I love it. I love you. You could’ve given me a plastic bag, and I would’ve loved it.”

She chuckled at his words, shaking her head. “I was thinking…”

“Hm?”

“Maybe we could give the Airpods to your father? That way you can use the one Carats gave you, and father will be happy with the new Airpods?”

Wonwoo melted at her thoughtfulness, reminding him one of the many reasons he loves her. She made it a point to welcome his family with such open arms, including his team. “You don’t want it for yourself?” he asked, knowing she had always wanted similar headphones.

She shook her head. “I think father would appreciate it more.”

“Alright. You can give it to him next time we visit.” He took her hand, placing it against his lips as he gazed at her face. “I don’t want you to be working overtime to buy me anything anymore, okay?”

“That’s not fair,” she argued, taking her hand back. “You-”

“I don’t care about money or materialistic things. I care about you- please? Can we do the handmade gifts from now on or something?”

She thought about it for a bit, pondering on his suggestion. “You’ll only give me handmade things too?”

He nodded.

“Deal,” she agreed, breaking into a grin. “You realize that’s gonna be harder for you, right?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “There’s nothing hard about spoiling the person I love the most.”

“You’re so cheesy,” she said between laughter.

His phone buzzed, and he checked it was Seungcheol who texted him. “Seungcheol just texted. The members were really worried.”

“About me?”

“Mm.” He responded that she was alright now. “They wanted to know if you would like to see them?”

“She nodded. “Today? Okay- maybe we can go bring food to them if they’re practicing?”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “We’re not doing anything. You’re coming home with me, and they’ll visit us there, okay?”

“I’m sure they don’t want to miss their practice.”

He shook his head, stopping her. “Y/N, my team is my family.”

She nodded, not knowing where he was going with this.

“And you’re now family so they’re your family too.”

Before she could say anything, the doctor knocked on the door with a clipboard. He gave her the clear to go home, and Wonwoo called a taxi for them to take to his home. As they settled in to his home, Y/N gave Wonwoo the go-ahead to have the members over to visit.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Mingyu said, his face full of anguish. Seungcheol stood beside him, head lowered as if expecting to be scolded.

She shook her head, putting a hand on each of the boys’ arms. “Don’t worry- you guys have nothing to apologize for.”

“We didn’t mean to-”

“I know, I know.” She gave them both a hug. “It’s nothing, really.”

Wonwoo gently pulled her to his side, leading her to sit down on the couch as if the few seconds of standing would be too tiresome for her. She sat in the center of the thirteen boys, feeling like she was finally a part of their little family they created for themselves. When the door rang for the food to arrive, Y/N was the first to get up, but before she could even move, Wonwoo had already gotten up and made sure she stayed put while the other members jumped up to get the door. In the end, Seungcheol and Mingyu had gotten the food, and set it on the table.

“Thank you for the food, Woo,” Soonyoung said, the other members following in sharing the gratitude.

He waved it off, knowing it wasn’t the first nor the last time he would treat his members. Being older than most of them, he felt a sense of responsibility in making sure they were treated well, and felt like he would be taking advantage of them if he didn’t cover their expenses from time to time.

He took the bowl that was meant for Y/N, unpacking it and adding her preferred toppings. “Thanks, Woo,” Y/N repeated, taking the outstretched plate from his hands. He leaned over to get a side dish to put on her plate, and Y/N took the opportunity to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Ehh! You guys are too sickeningly cute,” Seungkwan said, giving them a side eye.

“Don’t be rude! I think they’re cute.” Dokyum scolded.

Wonwoo prepared her food first, giving her the bowl before getting his own bowl. Minghao was on her right, and took some of the side dish in front of him, and placed it on her bowl.

“Thanks Hao,” she smiled. This time she wasn’t watching the 13 boys from the corner of the couch, feeling like an outsider, but instead she finally felt like a part of their found family.

#wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #wonu #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen #svt fanfic #wonwoo x you #wonwoo imagines #josephine writes

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herdarkestnightelegance · 14 days

Text

Magpie Stash

Pairing: Astarion/Tav

Tags: fluff, trauma

Length: 1k words

Summary: While looting, Astarion comes across items he wants to own

A/N: Another headcanon which I may have shared with some of the talented fan fiction writers out there before. So, if that’s the case, don’t come for me! But holy Hells this got much longer than I planed! I guess this is s drabble now? Or a whole ass fanfic? You tell me 😂

Thank you wonderful @nyx-knox for the beta reading! It was *chef‘s kiss* ✨

::::::::

Astarion has not owned anything in 200 years.

The only things he could call his were his wits and the clothes on his back - and both he cared for and mended meticulously.

But suddenly he’s part of a ragtag group of strangers, and he finds himself looting a temple not far from where they crashed with a damn Nautiloid after being abducted and infected by mindflayer parasites. And frankly, he’s not entirely sure what part he finds most surprising.

Finding food, weapons and healing potions is a priority. For the others. Not so much him. Honestly. Why should he bother looking for food he won’t even eat? He doesn’t know these weirdos.

But he humors them and even aids his positively helpless companions by picking locks. And as he opens the lid of a gilded chest, something catches his eye.

Beneath old parchment and a rotten carrot he finds …. pretty things? There’s a particularly sparkly ring. A skilfully bound book with gilded letters on the cover. A fine silk scarf hemmed with the most delicate fell-stitches …

He has no idea if those items are of any value. They certainly are useless for the group. But … they are beautiful. And he wants, no he needs to own them. So without giving it too much thought, he takes them.

He has no intention of selling *HIS* items to the vendor they meet at the Tiefling Camp. Hells, he doesn’t even have the intention of showing them to his companions.

He wants these pretty things for himself, he wants to keep them safe. The spawn siblings used to steal from one another all the time, so he’s used to being protective over his meagre possessions. Can’t shake 200 years of hypervigilance that easily.

::::::::

Over the next days and weeks of travel, Astarion fills up a little purple leather pouch with whatever catches his eye. Going through the diverse collection of beautiful bits and bobs for a few moments before meditating becomes a secret source of calm for Astarion. A soothing ritual, especially after the more straining days.

Which is what he’s doing now. He sits on his bedroll cross-legged, inspecting the things. His things. His little private treasure trove. That he owns.

A bejeweled comb, random gold coins, a tiny picture frame containing an even tinier painting …

The only piece of his treasure that gave him more of a bittersweet feeling had been a silver hand-mirror he had found in the goblin infested village. To be honest, he was not too mad when he accidentally smashed it in frustration the other night after talking to Tav.

Tav. Their unofficial leader. They never seem to have a problem sharing the things they find. They share their food with the group, their scrolls, and they even gave Astarion that freakish but intriguing tome they had found in that cellar. Far too generous, if you ask him.

As Astarion packs up his collection he hears coughing outside. Again. It’s been going on all night.

He peeks out. Tav is on second watch. The night is cold, and they just added another log to the fire. Still, the cool wind is picking up and Tav pulls their cloak close around their neck - which unfortunately does not prevent the coughing.

For a moment, Astarion considers just ignoring them, letting them hack up a lung. But to his dismay, he … cares? He finds he doesn’t want Tav to be cold or sick. But it’s just because he just doesn’t want their coughing to get annoying. That’s all. Obviously.

So he leaves his tent and saunters up to their leader, who greets him with a sleepy but friendly smile.

Astarion holds out his hand to Tav, holding a long piece of white fabric. He’s offering them his beautiful silk scarf with the immaculate fell-stitched hem that he had inspected a lot over the past weeks.

„You’re coughing too much, darling. It’s keeping me up and I do need my beauty sleep.” he says with mock indignation and his trademark smirk.

„Thank you.“ Tav says as they take the scarf from his hand and wraps it around that oh so delicious neck of theirs.

After an awkward moment of silence Astarion offers a final „Well. Good night, my dear.“ with a courteous bow and walks back to his tent.

He can’t help but wonder at the strange feeling in his chest. Tav can and will never know just what big of a deal this small gesture was for the pale Elf.

For the first time in 200 years Astarion gave away something that was his simply because he wanted to. He wanted them to have it. Because they needed it more than him. And not only that. He does not even expect anything in return. How in the Hells did that happen?

He’s sure it’s nothing.

:::::::

A few years from then, Astarion finds himself in the cellar beneath Tav’s and his home. He’s looking for something, and he’s sure it has to be here somewhere.

“Aha!” From the trunk before him he pulls a skilfully bound book - even though the gilded letters on the cover have worn off with time.

He opens the book - and huffs in relief. And nervousness. It’s still right where he left it between the pages all those years ago.

Hidden inside the old book lies a particularly sparkly ring.

He smiles. A lot has changed since that day they looted that temple and he found his first little treasures. Back then Astarion couldn’t fathom sharing his magpie stash - or anything, for that matter - with anyone. And now? Now he shares a home with the person he loves. And he plans on sharing so much more with them.

What better way of showing that than by proposing with the first thing he ever called his? Because now there’s only one thing, or rather person, he wants for himself. The one person he wants to share everything with.

He looks at the particularly sparkly ring.

Yes. This should do nicely.

So, and on a completely unrelated note: When does a headcanon become a full on fanfic lol?

#astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #this is about astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something

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redheadspark · 5 months

Note

Barry with #10 please! 🖤

A/N - This is great for Barry! Thanks for the request, anon!

Give Them Hell

Summary - Barry knows just what to say to make the doubt go away

Warning - A mixture of fluff and Angst

“What do you think, luv?”

“I think I wanna jump out the window,”

Barry snorted as he sat next to you on the bed, seeing you shift a bit with your eyes glued to the floor and biting your lower lip. He reached over, lacing your fingers together to press your palm against your calloused one, your perfectly manicured fingers for the premiere glistening in the hotel suite light. Of course, Barry would be calm about this, he’s done this dozens upon dozens of times with both independent flicks and massive blockbusters.

But this was your first one on his arm, and you felt like throwing up.

Barry was never one to be out in the public eye with his personal life, he was private compared to any other actor his age. Rightfully so, needing to build up his own reputation from the ground up without the aid of anyone else in his corner. He kept his nose to his craft, even with the paparazzi hounding him on how his personal life was like. So when you came into the picture, going on a few group outings with mutual friends and then Barry finally asking you out on a date, you should have known that dating an actor meant your own life would be on gossip pages everything once in a while.

And it finally happened, but not in the best light.

It was bad enough to see your face plastered on the mega gossip magazine, a picture of you and Barry out on a private date. But the column that wrote about the “Mystery Girl” and how she must have cozied up to be with Barry for his fame and fortune, hit you hard. It was hard to react to those words when you were working a stressful job 40 plus hours a week when you were trying to repair the relationship in your own family that was severed years ago.

But to be called all of those horrible things…that did hurt and was a low blow.

Barry consoled you when he saw you holding the magazine in your hands, tears in your eyes and the magazine nearly crumpled in your fingers. He took the magazine from your fingers, smoothing it out to see what was printed with his icy blue eyes looking it over the letters. You didn’t have to see the look on his face to know that he was just as mad from what he saw.

“I shouldn’t let it get to me,” You mumbled, Barry still looking at the gossip magazine as you sniffled and pushed the tears away abruptly, “But I just…I hate what they’re saying about me,”

It was worst letting those words get to you, to make your mind wander on that deep part of your brain and always put yourself down. The relationship you had with Barry was amazing, one of the best relationships you’ve ever been in. It was the best you’ve ever had, and Barry with his tough guy persona in front of the camera melted away with you. He was sweet with you, his words of flirtation and affirmation would bring out the best in you, along with his simple gestures of love. He treated you like a queen, more than.

So simple words from a faceless gossip writer should have made you doubt yourself with what you had with one of the best people in the world.

Barry finally crumbled up the paper in his hands, tossing it away from the pair of you as he held you close in his arms. He said nothing, but the way he embraced you was enough for you to know what he wanted to tell you. With an arm around your waist, another around your shoulders to keep you close as you clung onto him, there was more that was said in silence. He told you that he loved you, he told you that he never cared about what others thought about you two being together.

“Those words are nothin’ but lies,” he said against your hair as you were holding him tightly, rubbing your back with his knuckles, “They have nothing else to do but make up lies. I know you, and you are far more amazin’.”

You said nothing, letting all that he was telling you to drink in under your skin. Barry was never afraid to say what was on his mind, whether it was light or sacred. He was brash in nature, but he was genuine at heart. He would never lie to you when it came to his feelings towards you, and to hear him say those words to bring you comfort and move you.

“I love ya,” he hummed to you, still having you tucked in his arms, “You mean more to me than anything, ‘kay? I don’t think I’d be the man I am today if it wasn’t for ya,”

“Barry…” you said his name, but he shook his head to have you look up at him and see how he looked beyond sincere.

“I mean it. You have made me better, and there is nothing or no one, not even a stupid magazine, that will change what I think or how I feel. ‘Kay?” He asked, hope in his tone as you finally smiled for the first time that night. Barry grinned, seeing that small flick of light back in your orbs again as he leaned in to kiss you and let the negativity float away.

The magazine stayed on the floor, curled up in a ball with no more power in the words as Barry kissed you over and over.

“You know you can do this, right?” Barry asked as he leaned his shoulder against yours, “Premiers are a walk in the park,”

“They are to you,” You reminded him as he grinned and shrugged.

“Eh, I don’t take them seriously. Some journalists and photographers are pushovers anyways, plus it’s about the afterparty anyways.” Barry reasoned, you chuckling as he leaned his head over to touch yours. Such a simple gesture, something Barry liked to do to ground himself with you. The butterflies you had from the upcoming event were still evident, but not as bad now that you had Barry by your side and comforting you. You could only think about those gossip magazines, the paparazzi that would hound you every once in a while when you would go to work, and even some of the comments from your co-workers and family members about dating a bold actor like Barry.

However, none of that mattered when it came to Barry and how he adored you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” He said to you calmly, though he saw him crack a grin as you giggled and smiled at him, “Aye, see? That’s the smile I wanna see when you’re on that carpet with me. That smile will tell those naysayers who fuck off,”

“Barry!” You lightly scolded him as you smacked his arm, hearing him laugh as he stood up from the bed and pulled your hand along.

“Come on then, let’s give them hell!” He encouraged you, sounding so confident in himself. And that night was one of the best nights of your life with Barry on your arm.

The End

Hurt and Comfort Prompt Session

#barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #fanfiction #writing #my love #barry Keoghan x female reader #barry keoghan fanfiction

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