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#I have had my own apartment for five plus years
raraeavesmoriendi · 9 months
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on this day I would just like to announce my eternal love and gratitude for noise canceling headphones
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bluesidez · 6 months
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The Love Lab presents:
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Boyfriend is to Husband
pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader
summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔
content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.
credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)
a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…
word count: 2.2k
I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!
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You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 
After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 
Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.
After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 
To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 
First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 
Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.
She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”
“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 
You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 
You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 
“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 
The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 
“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 
Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 
You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 
After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 
There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 
You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 
“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 
Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 
They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 
From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”
Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 
You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 
Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 
“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 
“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 
“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”
Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”
You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 
Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 
“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”
“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”
Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”
He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 
You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 
Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 
You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 
“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 
You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 
“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 
Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 
You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 
“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 
You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 
“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 
You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”
Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 
“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”
His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 
“Husband.”
Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 
His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 
“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 
He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 
“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”
He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 
Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 
“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 
Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”
He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”
“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 
“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”
You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”
“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”
“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”
“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”
You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”
“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”
“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 
Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”
He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 
He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 
Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 
“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 
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The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 
He also never lets the husband thing go. 
As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”
As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”
As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”
As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”
As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”
This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 
“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”
“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”
“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”
“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”
“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”
“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”
“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”
“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”
“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”
“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”
“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”
Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 
You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.
“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’
“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”
You looked at him with stars in your eyes.
“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”
“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”
You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.
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Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.
I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!
- Lauro ♡
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b00kdiary · 8 months
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Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.
Cauldron Blessed | Azriel
Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'
Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.
Wrong.
He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.
Me, his mate- wrong.
It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.
I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.
Azriel, my mate.
Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.
And that's when I heard it.
"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."
I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.
They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.
"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."
I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.
"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."
"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."
"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."
She deserves better.
It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.
Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.
"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."
"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"
"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.
Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."
There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.
I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.
As if they had become a part of me.
It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.
Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.
And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.
I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.
I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.
Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.
My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.
I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.
And I hated myself for it.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.
And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.
He was here.
"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"
He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.
"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."
Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.
Another thing I couldn't bear to face.
"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."
As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.
His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.
"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.
"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."
My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.
I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.
"What does that mean?!"
I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.
"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.
A rejection- something he feared the most.
"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"
He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.
"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"
"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."
"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"
"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"
"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"
His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.
"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."
His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.
And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.
"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."
"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"
I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.
The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.
"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."
"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"
"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."
He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.
"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."
He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.
"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."
"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.
"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."
"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."
Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.
Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.
"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.
"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.
His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.
"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.
He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.
"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.
"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."
He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.
"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"
"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.
"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.
"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.
"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.
"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.
He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.
The Cauldron was right, so right.
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@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen
Comment to be added to the tag-list >3
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dee-the-red-witch · 25 days
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Okay, this is it.
It's been ten years of fucked-up, and it's been ramping up more and more over the last three since I came out. Between getting used emotionally and financially to be the sole support for this family, Getting harmed daily by a kid that I want to love and support but who can't understand who this stranger is that replace his dad and more and more things on top of it. To the point where I've had no resources, barely any energy to work or function, and near constantly hit adrenaline rush responses at random loud noises. But things are moving forward. Monday, my son moves into care that's well-equipped for him, and they'll be better for him than I ever will be at this point or any time in the future. My oldest kid is old enough to be independent and start doing their own thing enough to get out of here. I don't have to worry about or protect them.
I can get out. Just move, on my own, find a safe place and rest and heal. Finally. Just, I have zero resources to do it with. The last decade has fucked my credit and rental history badly, I'm sure, as well. Which means finding a place within my normal budget and sweetening the pot by pre-paying as many extra months as I can. Plus that way I can be covered for housing during my transition surgery recoveries, since this family and apartment managed to drain every last cent from my transition fund to keep from becoming unhoused. And it'll mean me having to do a lot less asking for support and help, because I won't be supporting four people on one income any longer. But all of that means I need to get money together. Quick. And a lot. At least 5k, if not closer to ten. So, yeah, I'm asking for help again. To donate: http://paypal.me/tormentedartifacts
If you want to get something in return for helping, there's also always http://tormentedartifacts.com but I'll be clear. Anything big ordered right now is likely not happening until after I move, if not after my surgery recovery, since I won't be able to sit fully upright or work for a big chunk of that. Which means you may not see it until next year.
But anything helps. Please. Even just five bucks. And so does reblogging and sharing this wherever you can. So, if you do, thanks.
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skzhua · 8 months
Text
if i leave, which i must do
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MASTERLIST
pairing: han jisung x female!reader
genre: fluff, angst, isekai, portal universe, strangers-to-lovers.
word count: 29,083
warnings: swearing, car accident, mentions of death, mentions of sex, suggestive. (proofread-ish)
summary: a movie night by yourself turned out to be an unexplainable experience as you got stuck in the film you were watching. it was a true nightmare until you found jisung to help you.
a/n: one of my favourites ever! it took me so long to finish it but i can't be any prouder. i really hope you enjoy it!
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Being sick was one of the things you hated the most, and there wasn't much you hated. Having a cold meant having to cough every five minutes to clear your throat or blowing your nose all the time to the point it got red from how irritated it was. One perk, however, was that you could use it as an excuse to skip work. Getting to stay at home to do nothing was everything your lazy nature would dream of. Plus, your love for movies and cinema came handy when all you could do was watch films all day.
So when you began to feel your throat getting dryer and your nose building up snot, you couldn't be any happier. The office you worked at had given you very strict deadlines and you'd been working your ass off for weeks to meet their expectations. By taking the next day off, it would give you a very much needed break since all of your documents would be given to someone else to finish them. 22 years old was too young to be doing this much, you thought. But you needed the money so you had to settle for that, only temporarily.
First thing you did when you got home that day was to open all the windows of your apartment, not considering your poor rabbit in her playpen who didn't ask for any cool air. It might not have helped much in making sure you would stay sick the next day but you gave yourself credits for trying nonetheless.
Afterwards, you hurried yourself to get changed into your pyjamas you loved so much and order food since you had no energy to cook. Once your order arrived, it didn't take you long to get settled on the couch to get ready for a movie night on your own. Before doing anything, you still made sure you had everything — meaning your food, water, your blankets, cutlery for your meal, etc. — and then grabbed your remote to turn the television on. As you browsed through Netflix's selection of recommended films for you, you realized how the movies on there became repetitive and you had seen most of them. Still, you continued to scroll in hopes something would be eye-catching enough to you. But none seemed good enough. Annoying, your food was getting colder by the minute.
You were about to move onto another streaming platform until you read a synopsis that grabbed your curiosity. It followed the journey of a struggling artist in his early 20s who can't seem to find the inspiration for his music, all while having to face his personal issues called becoming an adult. This was not the type of movies you would usually go for which made you wonder why it even caught your eye. The duration was an hour and fifty minutes and that was also not what you'd go for on a daily basis. Besides that, heavy subjects as these ones felt a bit much for a Wednesday night. However, you weren't going to work the morning after so fuck it. Happy with your choice, you grabbed your plate and brought it closer to you to dig into it and clicked on the play button.
The opening scene showed a young boy — not much older than seven if you had to guess — playing in a playground with a few friends. Some credits appeared on screen as the mellow score played in the background. As the children continued to laugh loudly, a woman's voice could be heard calling out a "Han Jisung". The boy turned around to see his mother walk up to him as she informed him that it was time to head back home. The boy shook his head violently, insisting on staying longer to play. The woman repeated herself but unlike what she would've liked, her son refused to budge and headed to the swings he was playing close to, holding tightly onto one of the poles. Sighing heavily, she asked him again but he did not move. Poor woman, she was obviously exhausted and wanted to go home to take a nap.
"You and me, girl," you commented in-between bites.
Growing impatient, Jisung's mother approached him and reached her hand out to him. Stubborn, he shouted he wanted to stay, and ran all the way to the other side of the street to get away from her reach. As any mother would do, she ran after him while telling him to slow down as he was much faster than her. He still ignored her demands. Sadly, she was not quick enough to catch up with him and, just as she was crossing the road, a pickup truck collided with her body right before Jisung's eyes. It took him a moment to process everything, he was left speechless. Mouth wide open, he stared at the figure of his mother on the ground in horror. He fell onto his knees, his legs too weak to support his body as he was still in disbelief of what just occurred.
You paused it.
Releasing an exhale you didn't know you were holding back, you stared at the screen in shock. You were barely ten minutes in and you could not believe this had to be how the film began. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you walked to your rabbit's playpen and picked her up, bringing her close to your chest. You jumped right back into your blankets and made sure both you and the animal were comfortable.
"Fifi, I won't be able to finish this if I don't have you with me," you said to your bunny in a child-ish voice.
The screen was still frozen while you debated whether you really wanted to continue it or not. In the end, you gathered all the courage you had and clicked on play, giving Fifi scratches to release your stress.
The next scene was a time skip to Jisung's 23rd birthday. When you thought he was all alone as he was staring longingly at a picture of him and his mother, one of his friends barged in his room as he shouted a "happy birthday". He responded with a smile and set the picture back on his desk before the both of them walked out to their dining room. There were only two other men with him who seemed to be living with him. The place wasn't that big but it was functional which is what mattered really. Jisung's other friend placed a cake in front of him as they sang the birthday song to him, all of them exchanging wide smiles. You learned that he is the youngest since his friends kept on teasing him for being a year closer to their own ages.
"Have we gotten any calls?" he asked after blowing on the candles.
From their reaction, they didn't receive any sort of call that they were expecting. This didn't make Jisung lose his joyful spirit and he went ahead with cutting pieces of cake for the three of them.
"Great, now I'm craving cake," you grumbled to yourself. "Should I get a cake? No, it's too late and the grocery stores must be closed."
The scene switched to an anxious Jisung in his room who kept on rewriting on a piece of paper while tugging on his hair, eyebrows furrowed as to show his focus on the task at hand. He bopped his head up and down and began to hum a melody. Unsatisfied, he shook his head and noted something down on his phone. Multiple shots of him doing the same couple of actions — rewriting, erasing, humming a beat, throwing a paper away, getting distracted by something he saw on his phone —played one after the other. It was like he was stuck in a loop and the more it went, the more he was getting discouraged. Finally determining he wouldn't get any work done that night, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.
The following shot was now set outside where the night was slowly settling, sunset on display. As a melodic score played in the background, Jisung walked down a small street as he kept on kicking on a tiny rock he found on the ground. Taking in the fresh air, he suddenly stopped and took notice of his whereabouts after having walked a decent distance. The camera panned out to a playground, the same one where his mother was hit.
You felt movement on your thighs and frowned, only to remember you had brought your bunny out of the comfort of her home. Since the movie didn't seem to be getting into anything as traumatic as the first scene, you stood up to get her back to her playpen. However, with having the screen as your only source of light in the room, you tripped onto the plastic bag that was used to wrap your takeout. You felt yourself fall onwards and let out a yell in panic. Your bunny was quick enough to get away from your grasp and hide underneath your couch. As for you, you kept on falling and closed your eyes shut in waiting of your head hitting something. Only, everything went black.
You didn't know what happened but one thing was for sure. You did not hit your head.
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Everything was blurry when you finally opened your eyes after gaining a bit of consciousness. You tried to see better around you but a sudden eerie ringing was suddenly bursting through your ears, making it impossible for you to concentrate on something else. You shut your eyes closed again from how painful the ringing was and put your hands on your ears in attempt to diffuse some of it.
"Miss?" you thought of hearing faintly but nothing was vivid enough for you to be sure. "Miss?" you heard the voice say again, this time a tad bit clearer.
You began to hear again much clearer, allowing you to open your eyes properly. Needless to say you were stunned once your gaze fell upon the man in front of you. He had a concerned look on his face while analyzing your figure, making sure you were not injured in any way.
It couldn't be possible, no.
Looking around for a hint or anything, you realized you were exactly where the character of your movie was standing through your screen only minutes ago. The same character who was now all flesh and bones, standing tall (or short for some people) at 5'7ft in front of your very eyes.
"Miss," he said again. "Are you alright? Do you need help?"
You blinked slowly as you stared at him up and down, almost creepily. You hadn't realized he began to feel uncomfortable until he cleared his throat loudly, bringing your eyes back to his own. With one eyebrow raised, he repeated the question. No luck, you kept silent.
Jisung looked around and noticed the sun was about to get down completely, meaning it would be pitch black in this part of the city. Although he thought of you to be odd, he was humane. Never would he let a young woman — might he add as attractive as you were — on her own this late outside.
"Do you live nearby? I can walk you home," he offered.
Again, you didn't seem to find an answer. Well, how could you even describe that you believed to have gone through your television screen which caused you to travel into the movie's universe? Yourself couldn't believe it to be true. Nonetheless, you couldn't deny the man was very much real and that the cold was very much coming through your clothes.
Your clothes. You weren't in your pyjamas anymore, but rather in a business attire. You held a briefcase that you had no idea what it was for, and you felt an unknown phone in your back pocket. You could feel the blisters on your feet caused by the heels you were wearing and although the blazer was most definitely fashionable, you were freezing. You pondered the possibility of having transferred into a character's body unintentionally.
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Jisung asked as he caught onto your oblivion.
The only thing you could do right until finding out what happened to you was say nothing and lead your own investigation on how you got here and how you can return to the comfort of your house with your bunny. Fuck, Fifi! Poor her, she must be so afraid without you around to take care of her.
"Hey," Jisung spoke again in a comforting voice. "You'll be okay, I want to help you. Did you forget where you live?"
How sweet of him, you thought. In your own universe it was hard for you to find caring men, you hit the jackpot when stumbling upon him. Still, you had to remind yourself that this person was technically a fictional character, he didn't represent reality. You made a mental note to yourself to check if this movie was directed or written by a woman when you would get back home.
"Do you know your name, at least?"
Oh, right. Maybe the guy deserved some sort of answer at the very least.
"Y/N."
You were taken aback when his face lit up to show his boxy smile. He had a very pretty smile, it was a reassuring smile.
"Miss Y/N, my name is Han Jisung. Now that I know you can speak, can you answer my questions from earlier, please? I would hate for something dangerous to happen to you and I genuinely want to get you home safely."
You chuckled at his words, feeling uneasy from his display of chivalry. "I-I don't remember a lot."
You had seen this in movies: in situations of travelling to an alternate universe, faking having amnesia was the way to go if you wanted to survive through this. People put their guards down usually instead of being wary of you.
Jisung nodded and looked up for a moment to think of what to do next. "I live nearby if you need a temporary shelter for the night. I have two roommates and the place might not be as tidy as what you must be used to, if you remember. I don't know if you are comfortable with it but I'd be happy to help you gain your memories back."
Seriously, why couldn't people be more like this in your world? Trying to ignore to storm of feelings, thoughts and emotions that was happening in your mind, you shyly agreed to stay at his place. For the night only. You should get back in less than 24 hours, no?
Jisung was right and his apartment was no further than a few blocks away from the playground. The building was rather small and a bit torn down but besides that, it seemed to be just fine for him. As long as the necessities were there, it didn't bother him if the quality was not one of a five-star hotel.
It took you three flights of stairs to get to his place which was so painful to climb up with your heels. You still managed through the pain all the way up to when Jisung opened the door wide to let you in first. To say you were startled when you walked in would be an understatement. Two men — you recognized as his roommates — were walking around the flat with no shirt on while they were preparing themselves what seemed to be like chicken sandwiches. The sight was not what you had anticipated, although this whole situation wasn't either, and you let out a scream without thinking first. The two of them shot their heads up and were obviously confused to see a young woman stand there instead of their younger friend.
"Can we help..?" one of them who had blonde hair asked reluctantly.
"Guys!" Jisung exclaimed from behind you before coming to stand next to you. "This is Y/N. Y/N, these two are my roommates. This is Changbin."
Changbin held his hand up, still lost about what was happening in his own home. "Hey?"
"And that's Chan."
Chan was kind enough to grab a hoodie that was laying on a chair nearby and put it on before shaking your hand. Your heart stopped from the contact with his skin and you seriously wondered what was up with the men of this world.
"Y/N is a bit lost, I think she had a some sort of brain injury when I bumped into her. She was holding her head tightly and she was visibly in pain. I asked her a few questions about herself and the only thing she could remember was her name," Jisung explained to the older guy who listened attentively.
"Amnesia?"
"That's my guess. Until we can help her find who she is, I offered her to stay here."
Chan nodded in approval while Changbin shrugged his shoulders. "As long as I can work on my stuff in peace, I don't mind. She's kind of cute too."
"Changbin," Chan sent him a look, making him mutter a quick apology. He then turned to face you which scared you a little. "I bet you're tired. Or hungry, maybe? Can I offer you something to drink?"
"Do you have green tea?"
He clasped his hands together and headed off back to the kitchen. "On it."
"I'll give you a tour of the place," Jisung informed. "It's not big but it's home. Here is the living room which we do not use that much. I'll sleep there tonight, though, so you can have my bed."
You held your hand up in disagreement. "I'll take the couch, it's alright. I'm lucky enough you're letting me stay."
He pfft at you. "Nonsense, take my bed. I insist." When he got a nod from your part, he moved on to continuing showing around. "This is the bathroom. Not that big but it does what it needs to do. Here's Changbin's room and I recommend you don't knock if the door is closed. Just wait until he's done. And here's Chan's room where he never sleeps, just works."
"Not true," you could hear from the kitchen, making Jisung smile, embarrassed.
"Yeah, uh, we can pretty much hear everything throughout the whole flat. It's not that bad from the rooms to the common areas because we tried to soundproof them as much as we could but yeah."
"Soundproofing for your music, or for other types of activities..?" you implied jokingly.
Damn it, the air in this universe was different, you couldn't even be yourself. Well, you did make a lot of bad jokes, sometimes related to sex, back home. Still, you really had no filter there. Noticeably, both of you were quite surprised from your statement and were a blushing mess for a few seconds before he answered.
"Music, but it is useful for these... things."
He cleared his throat and walked away shyly, and you most certainly thought this was adorable. Containing yourself, you followed his lead to the room at the very end of the hallway. Everything you saw from the movie was still at their exact spot, including the picture of him and his mother. While he was telling you about his room and cleaning it up a bit at the same time, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying. Your eyes stuck on the framed image for longer than they should but there was something in his mother's eye. A shine? A glow? Or something more mellow? You couldn't figure it out but it was enchanting, she was beautiful. It was crazy how much Jisung took after her, their features being so similar and yet so different.
"She's pretty," you spoke before thinking, yet again.
Jisung awkwardly walked to his desk and put the picture face down. "It's my mom," he said, clearing his throat and avoiding your look.
"She raised a very kind son," you added and he mouthed a small "thanks" as he kept his eyes on the floor.
You took the opportunity to get a good insight of his personal space. Even if cleaned a bit, it was a mess but not in a disgusting way. It was a comfort kind of messy, the one that screamed "this place was loved and well lived in". His bed had simple dark blue sheets with a single pillow, his desk and dresser were a matching set, and his bookshelf was filled with figurines, one or two books and many music albums. His entire desk was dedicated to his music, even the background displayed a guitar. It felt homey.
"Someone ordered tea?" Chan said as he came in with a mug. He set it on the desk while you thanked him kindly. "Be careful, it's still boiling hot."
Without adding a word, he left the two of you alone in your awkward silence. While you were still looking around, Jisung was biting his lip down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt with one hand while the other was still on the picture. Eventually, he seemed to snap out of his discomfort and went to open one of his drawers. From there, he pulled a t-shirt out along with a pair of sweatpants before holding them out to you.
"I'm pretty small so hopefully it'll fit. You can use the shower as long as you need, the shampoo and soap are in the basket. Use any towel, we washed them this morning," he informed to which you nodded. The silence was slowly coming back but, decisively, Jisung wouldn't let this one through. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything."
"Thank you, Jisung."
He gave you one last smile before vanishing into the other room, leaving you alone to get changed. That was important, yes, but what you'd been dying to find out was what the fuck happened with you. You didn't waste another second to take the phone in your back pocket and turn it on. Obviously, it had a password unknown to you. What did help was the wallpaper: a picture of yourself hugging a bunny that looked identical to Fifi. At least, you knew you were yourself and not some random woman whose body you had to take over.
If this was your face with your bunny, did it mean it would be the same passcode as the one for your own mobile? You had to try at the very least, this phone was most likely your only chance to understand the situation better. You typed the first five digits and waited a second before typing the last one, tension growing in you. You closed your eyes, pressed it, and slowly opened them back. The sigh of disappointment that left your mouth would be indescribable but it was very discouraging. At least, you knew there was another Fifi waiting for her owner to get home in this universe too.
You quickly got changed, finally taking off these uncomfortable heels, and went to freshen up in the shower. Despite the fact the counter was a huge mess, the shower itself was kept pretty clean, more than you had expected for a boys apartment. You didn't wash for long, already exhausted from the day you'd had. After putting Jisung's clothes on, you walked out the bathroom, went to grab your tea, and joined the man who helped you in the living room.
When he got a good look at you, his eyes grew bigger while his plump cheeks flushed a little. The sight of a woman in his clothes was never something he though of ever happening. And yet, here you were. As beautiful as a model, you were in his clothes.
"Can I join you?"
Fuck, even your voice was pretty. He didn't realize it at first –probably because he only focused on helping you out– but you were drop dead gorgeous. All of the sudden, he could feel his hands getting sweatier and his heartbeat getting faster. What was happening to him?
"Sure," he mustered the energy to answer without stuttering. "How are are you feeling?"
"Calmer, but I'm still worried. I have no idea who I am and the background of my phone is myself with my rabbit who must be wondering where its owner went," you answered and pulled the phone out of your pocket to show it to him.
"Cute," he commented, not knowing if this was directed to you, the rabbit, or both. "Did you try getting in?"
You nodded. "The only password I could think of didn't work and I don't want to risk blocking it."
"I have a friend, Felix, he's studying in computer engineering. I can give him a call tomorrow and he could come to unlock it."
Your face lit up instantly. "That would really help, please."
"I'll do that first thing in the morning."
"Thank you."
He looked away and cleared his throat, your presence was making him so nervous. "It's no problem."
You got up and began to inspect the room, a little bit like you did in Jisung's. The couch wasn't aesthetically pleasing to the eye but it did the job and was the perfect amount of squishy. Their television was without a doubt second handed from someone else while the furniture that supported it was freshly new. You liked how they managed to organize everything to be functional without feeling cramped in the place, since it was very small.
"Do you always do this?" Jisung asked after watching you himself.
"What do you mean?" you frowned.
His face warmed up, embarrassed. "I meant, because you keep looking around like an investigator or something like that."
"Jisung, I've just lost all of my memory. I'm just trying to process everything and the very least of things would be to make sure I wasn't welcomed into an unsafe place, not like I think you're dangerous, but you know what I mean."
He nodded while pursing his lips in understanding. He proceeded to mentally flicker his forehead, swearing to himself to shush it around you. He really was trying to come off friendly and helpful but his reserved nature would force him to tell you stupid things like this.
"I'm done with my tea," you announced, showing him the empty mug.
He stared at you for a second until he snapped out of his thoughts, taking the mug and rushing to the sink to wash it. You chuckled at the sight. You were glad it was him whom you had stumbled upon. Although clumsy, he was being the sweetest.
"I guess I'll go to sleep," you said as he was still rinsing your remaining tea.
He raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you have everything you need?"
"Don't worry, I'll call you if anything."
He nodded his head with satisfaction before wishing for you to sleep well. As he watched your frame disappear, he let out a heavy breath. He knew his social anxiety was bad but this was becoming an issue. He headed to the couch and settled himself to doze off. Still, his mind was on you, on how he had interacted with you. Meanwhile, you were staring at the ceiling blankly, wondering if you were even sure if you could get back home. That, and also thinking how it wouldn't be so bad to stay with these welcoming gentlemen.
To sum it all quickly, you didn't sleep much that night, and neither did Jisung.
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If you thought you ever had a headache, the one you got when waking up was much worse than anything you'd had experienced. This was mildly due to the events of the previous day, but also to the screaming happening on the other side of the apartment. You felt safer leaving the door open to have easy access to help in case you needed any but this was not a good choice on your part. You had slightly forgotten men could be noisy as hell when it came to living with other men. And this, it was a confirmation you were not in a dream and still in a fictional character's home.
"Chan, give me the fucking eggs!" you heard Changbin shout angrily while the two others were uncontrollably laughing.
You yawned loudly before getting off the bed, rubbing your eyes in the process. Even if your body was telling you to get back into the soft bedsheets and sleep all day, your mind was screaming for you to not miss a moment to find a solution to your, slightly surreal, problem. Thus, you joined the three boys in the kitchen who were all still in their sleeping attires. By that, I mean Chan and Changbin were shirtless again while Jisung was wearing shorts with a tank top that was a bit too tight in your opinion. You unconsciously began to check them out in silence, standing like a poll.
Changbin finally noticed you and waved in a nonchalant way, visibly annoyed by his friends' antics. "Hey."
Jisung's head shot up from his breakfast to you and he didn't lose a second to join your side. "Hey, good morning. How did you sleep? Are you feeling better? Can I make you something to eat?"
His friends exchanging knowing looks didn't go unnoticed by you but you determined it would be better for the younger guy to be spared from such embarrassment and you ignored them. "I slept alright, although I do have a bit of a headache."
"I have Tylenols in the bathroom's cabinet. Do you want one or two?"
"I'll take two if you don't mind."
He hummed before sprinting to the said-bathroom, which left his friends struggling more to contain their cackles. You ignored them still and joined Changbin, whose body was quite distracting to say the least, and scanned the items displayed in front of him.
"What are you eating?"
The man left a frustrated sigh. "Toast and eggs if only Chan wasn't being a dick by hiding them from me."
"I told you I hid nothing, we just don't have eggs!"
"There were three left yesterday when I checked. How would they disappear out of nowhere?"
Jisung came back with two pills and a glass full of water, sheepishly smiling as he approached his friends. "Yeah, uh, I might have eaten them last night."
Both shut their eyes closed, clearly trying to not burst out at him. Meanwhile, you left out a small chuckle and joined him to get your pills.
"Thank you," you smiled at him and you saw his Adam's apple bop.
He returned the smile shyly to then focus back on the important matter of the day. "I didn't know you'd have an egg craving this morning."
Changbin shook his head. "It's not a craving, I need my proteins for my workout today," he huffed out as it this was the most obvious thing.
They continued to bicker for some time. It lasted long enough for Chan to remember you were still there and probably very hungry. He made two portions of his own breakfast, which was a bowl of cereals and fruits, and sat next to you while placing both dishes on the table. You gave him a thankful smile and the two of you savoured the food while Jisung was trying his very best to defend himself.
"You can just go buy some later," he said, rolling his eyes.
"I needed to eat them now, or it would fuck up my very precise diet."
You let out a grunt, and stood straight up. "Gosh, can you two shut up? I get that I'm bursting into your bubble by having slept here but I have a headache and memories to regain so can you please put your quarrel aside for now?"
To that, Chan pursed his lips and clapped quietly, obviously impressed. As for Jisung, he looked right into your eyes, unable to move. Day two and he was still fucking things up around you, great. He muttered an apology, not even loud enough to be heard, and embarrassingly walked back to his spot at the table to finish his breakfast.
"Sorry, Y/N. I guess I did overreact," Changbin admitted even though you could see it was hurting his pride.
The entire flat was silent for a few minutes with only the sounds from munching your food being heard. Eventually, Changbin went to get changed and headed out to what you presumed to be the gym. Chan was the next person to put his dishes in the dishwasher and lock himself in his room. That left a very quiet Jisung alone with you. He was hunching slightly and his eyes were focused on his phone, almost as to distract himself from your presence.
Feeling a bit offended, you called his name out. His doe-like eyes instantly found yours and you had to keep yourself from squealing at how cute he looked.
"Did you contact your friend for my phone?"
His eyes that were already big enough in your opinion got larger and his mouth opened agape. He most definitely had forgotten.
"I'll call him right now, I'm sorry."
He left the app he was scrolling through previously and dialed up a number before putting it on speaker. Nervous, he was nibbling on his lower lip while his legs were jumping up and down. Even with friends, having to call someone was a challenge for him.
"Han?" a deep voice answered the call.
"Hey, am I bothering?" Jisung asked, visibly uneasy.
"Never, what's up?"
"I got this... Uh, how do I say it? I met this girl yesterday-"
"Wait, a girl?" he cut him off with a gasp.
From the reaction of his friend, Jisung rolled his eyes before looking at you apologetically. He should have expected Felix to react this way by the mention of a girl. Jisung was too insecure and nervous to approach one, it was almost a miracle he even had the courage to even speak to you. Well, the context was much different. He was a man of principles and one of them was to always offer a helping hand to someone in need — you in this case.
"Where? How? What happened? Is she cute? Did you ask her out?"
For what seemed to be the hundredth time to him, he blushed and chuckled nervously. "She can hear you..."
There was a pause from the other side of the line for a brief moment. "Oh."
"Yeah, uh... So I was on a stroll around the neighbourhood and saw her having some kind of panic attack. She's calmed down since but she lost her memories. She has a phone but she can't remember her code so I was wondering if you could come by and unlock it for her, please."
"Sure, I'm with Hyunjin right now, though. Is it fine if he comes too?"
"Yeah, no problem. Thank you, I owe you one." He quickly hung up and smiled before looking at you. "Felix is an expert when it comes to technology, you'll see."
"I trust your judgement," you affirmed. "In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?"
He was a mystery to you. Not only because he was from another universe, but also because of how he has been acting around you. If you had watched the entire movie before teleporting in it, you would've probably understood his being a lot better. However, his shy attitude and the way he acted when you were talking about his mother was something that bugged your brain cells.
"What kind of questions?"
You shrugged. "I know nothing about myself so I can't really tell you about me. But you have been so nice to me, it's only natural I'd like to know more about you."
"Good point," he let out a breathy laugh. "Alright, go ahead."
"Have you always been this introverted?"
With no hesitation, he shook his head no which wasn't the answer you expected. "I used to be outgoing but things got complicated at some point and I- let's say I rather keep to myself."
"But you've been pretty outgoing with me, no?"
He frowned, seemingly not agreeing with you. "Are you kidding? I'm surprised I'm not having a panic attack right now."
"You're doing good," you reassured with a chuckle.
"Thanks," he said with a nervous cough. "I'm trying."
An awkward silence settled between the two of you while you were still figuring out how to bring up the topic of his mother, especially his feelings towards it. The only thing that you could assume was the trauma it must have caused him based on what you saw on screen yourself.
A knock on his front door was all it took to bring your mind back on track, which caused Jisung to physically relax and run to answer whoever was coming. When the door opened, two men were greeted warmly by the young man. One was standing tall and gracious with his long dark locks falling in front of his eyes. He was pretty, you thought. The other was shorter but his voice was deep, so much you were doubting it was actually his voice. The freckles on his face stood out as much as his smile and his blonde hair was another aspect you took notice of. You learned him to be Felix and the moment his eyes fell onto your small figure, he stared at you with bright open eyes, almost as if he had seen a ghost.
"Oh my, Y/N! I swore Mina and I thought you vanished," he said in a worried voice as he sat where Jisung was previously. "Why didn't you answer our calls? Wait, let me guess, you put your phone on Do not disturb again?"
The taller man, who you were informed to be named Hyunjin from Jisung's greeting, rolled his eyes and sat next to him. The move was very smooth, you were doubting if this man was a model or an angel. Both answers would've made sense.
"Let the girl breathe, you're scaring her. Didn't Han say she has amnesia? Gosh, I'd think you're the one with no memories," he huffed, insinuating that Felix was stupid.
You were a bit startled by his rather rude behaviour but when you looked at Felix's reaction, it seemed to be a normal thing between them. As for Jisung, he stood still next to the door and confusion was sprawled all over his face.
"You know her?" he asked.
Felix lifted his eyes up, as if it was the most obvious thing. "She lives with Mina next to our place."
You nodded your head slowly although you were still totally clueless. "Right, Mina..."
"You really forgot? Damn, okay. Well, I know your passcode because you told me so this won't be a problem. I'm very curious, though. Do you know what happened to you?"
Telling them the truth was tempting but, again, who would even believe you? The thing itself was a mystery to you and felt surreal, you doubted they would take you seriously. Even more so if you mention the movie aspect of it.
"No idea," you shrugged which disappointed Felix.
"Alright, I'll help you regain your memories, then," he sighed and held out his hand in your direction. "Give me your phone."
You did as told and, immediately, Felix tapped the password with no problem before giving it back to you. As you browsed through the apps, you realized not much was different from what you had in your actual phone. If anything, this was the spitting image of it. Your first instinct was to go for the photos you had. As expected, many of them were of your bunny but another majority of them were of you with another girl.
"Mina?" you asked Felix, pointing at the girl's face to which he nodded as a confirmation.
"Your roommate and best friend. If I'm correct, you two have been friends for almost your entire life."
You continued to scroll through the pictures attentively. The other you had a much busier life. You seemed to be out in college parties often and other photos showed yourself in classes with many other friends. You were also quite disturbed to see that your parents were the same ones you had in your real life. Was the movie like this or did your unintentional arrival modify it?
One picture grabbed your attention more than others. It was you at a party again but what your focus was on was the boy behind you smiling happily with a bottle of beer in hands.
"Jisung?" you called for him to see and he proceeded to rush to your sides, hovering above your shoulder to see better.
Your breath cut short at the proximity as you could feel his own hit the side of your face. For a second, your mind went foggy and you turned your head around to look at him. His frown showed as much confusion as you had and you noticed his lips to be pinker than you thought.
"Is this me?" he said in a whisper, which reminded you to focus.
"So you knew who I am!" you exclaimed, almost offended he didn't tell you.
"I swear I don't recall seeing you ever," he tried to justify himself.
Felix stole the device from you and looked at the photo as well, Hyunjin leaning closer to do the same. While he couldn't figure out when this was taken as he was in the picture as well, Hyunjin seemed to have recognized the moment instantly.
"This was at Jeongin's."
"Who?" you and Jisung asked at the same time.
You looked at one another and a blush appeared on both of your faces. Hyunjin, however, didn't give a shit about your somewhat cute interaction and went on with explaining.
"Jeongin, a friend of mine. He hosted a party about a year ago with pretty much the whole cohort of freshmen."
"Oh," Felix exclaimed as the memory came back to him. "Yeah, there were people I never talked to again after that. Must have been the case for you two."
"But if I'm friends with you-" you began but were cut right away.
"We're neighbours, not friends. I don't hang out with you much, no offense."
"None taken."
Suddenly, you heard a small gasp coming from behind you. All eyes stopped on Jisung who was covering his mouth with his hand. You cocked your head to the side to incite him to speak but he shook his head and left to run to his room. You glanced at the two remaining men in search of an answer but they shrugged and continued to look through your pictures.
"Ah, look! Your most recent one dates from yesterday," Hyunjin noticed and gave you the phone back.
You scanned the screen and frowned. In the background, you could see a tuft of hair that was too similar to Jisung's for it to not be his. You were wearing the same outfit as the previous day and you were obviously only taking a cute selfie for yourself. This was without a doubt taken just before you appeared. Was this version of you an actual person? Where was she now if you were in her body at this very moment? What if she was in yours? How traumatic for her would that be if she learned she was nothing more than an extra in a Netflix film.
"I wonder where I was going," you decided to say for now, not wanting to look suspicious.
"If I had to guess, back home. You're on an internship in an accounting company this semester, thus the attire."
You were so grateful Felix knew about you enough to give you a better insight of your life. Nonetheless, this was helping you in no way to go back to your universe. You discarded the phone away from you and let your head fall on the table while mumbling a "thank you" to him.
"The school offers free therapy sessions for those in need," Hyunjin suggested, earning a bump of the elbow from his friend. "What? Sorry for trying to help."
"I can take you back to your place for now, Mina might be better than me to help you," Felix offered, ignoring Hyunjin.
"That would be great, yeah," you said gratefully, lifting your head up. "Can you take me now?" He nodded. "Good. You don't mind if I go thank Jisung first?"
"Go ahead."
The door of his room was closed which came as no surprise considering the way he left so abruptly. Still, you knocked softly and waited patiently for him to answer. It took a minute or so but he did open the door, just wide enough for you to see his face. Just when you thought you had seen him at his most embarrassed, here he was, avoiding your gaze.
"Felix is going to get me home."
He nodded quickly before muttering "That's good."
"I came to thank you again for letting me stay. Not many people are as kind as you have been to me."
He cleared his throat. "I told you, it's no problem."
"Still, thank you."
Since you were visibly making more and more uncomfortable, you didn't stay any longer and were quick to head out, not forgetting to at least wave bye to Chan.
You weren't living far from there, only a couple of streets away. On the walk to your dorm, you learned Felix and Hyunjin were living together and that they were both studying in contemporary arts at the same college you were attending. Both knew you to be the nice girl next door while Mina was much louder than you were. Needless to say, you were looking forward to meet this girl.
"You're at the end of the hallway and we're here," Hyunjin informed as he stopped in front of their place. "Let us know if you need anything."
"Thank you, guys, so much."
Felix sent you one of his warm smiles and the two of them disappeared into their home. You stared at the door in the end of the hallway slightly scared. You had no idea what to expect but, here you were. Having not much of a choice, you went ahead and unlocked the door with what Felix told you to be the key to your place before walking in.
The first thing you saw was a wide playpen with a bunny munching onto its food; Fifi. You wondered if she had the same name or not. Just besides it was a couch where a girl was lazily scrolling through her feed. Upon hearing someone coming in, her head turned to see who it was. From her face, you concluded she was relieved to see it was you. Immediately, she jumped off the couch and came to hug you tightly.
"Y/N, what the fuck! I was worried sick, where the hell were you?" she almost screamed into your ear.
Yeah, she was definitely a loud person.
"Hey..." you trailed off, unsure on what to respond.
She let go of the hug, still holding your shoulders, and gave you a skeptical look. She scanned you from up and down which made you self-conscious for a second. It was almost like she was leading her own investigation.
"Why are you so stiff?"
Upon hearing her remark, you tried to relax a little but according to her expression, this did not work. "Uh, you might want to sit down for this one."
Her eyes went wide and she grabbed you to go sit on the couch. "What? Did you meet someone and slept at their place? Did you get kidnapped?"
Gosh, she really was adamant about your whereabouts and getting answers from you. In a way, you couldn't blame her as she had been thinking for almost 24 hours that her best friend had vanished. It didn't mean this didn't overwhelm you nonetheless.
"Kind of?"
"Which one? The kidnapped part or sleeping at someone's place?"
"The second one."
She gasped in surprise. "You slept with one of your co-workers!"
You rolled her eyes at her assumption, growing tired of her already. "Mina, can you let me speak please?" She seemed to get startled by your intervention but she nodded and kept her mouth shut. "Thank you. Okay, so, where do I start? Uh, first of all, I actually don't know you."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? We've known each other our whole life."
"This is more complicated..."
Then, you proceeded to explain everything to her. Well, the whole amnesia story. She surprisingly sat still and listened throughout your entire monologue, expressing a couple of times her reactions with gasps and hums. When you were done, she was looking up in the air to think. You hoped what you said made enough sense so she wouldn't have any doubts.
"Han Jisung who lives with Chan, no?" she asked and you nodded. "As in Bang Chan?"
You shrugged. "I don't know his last name but I guess it was him."
"Damn, you were with these losers," she exploded in laughter.
If she really was your best friend in this world, you were beginning to question yourself on why you would hang around someone thinking this low of other people. To you, these guys couldn't be any kinder. Besides the fact their apartment was a bit trashy, you couldn't think of a single thing that would make someone call them with such names.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, honey," she started with an exhale. "They've been telling people they will become a successful group but they've been getting nothing more than a few gigs here and there. Not only that but I've heard Han can't even come up on stage."
Your heart dropped. Of course he would have stage fright, he was so insecure just by stepping foot outside of his home. Something else bugged you about her comments. She had a bittersweet tone coming with it, like she had an history with these guys.
"It doesn't make them losers..."
She scoffed. "Wow, amnesia did something to you. If you still had your memories, you would agree with me."
"I just don't understand why you'd say they're losers if they're struggling with their career. Challenges happen to everyone."
"I know but- You know what? I'll tell you after you regain your memories. For now, I'll help you get back into the real world."
If only she meant this as actually going back... If she were to have this attitude while helping you go through this, you were debating to go back to Jisung's place and let them help you instead.
However, after this uncomfortable altercation, she was being nothing but the sweetest. She went through every aspect of your life slowly, from your birth until now, and made sure you were following along. Everything you had to remember about your present self wasn't so complicated; you were an accounting student following an internship and you were a second year college student. You liked your bunny a lot (who you discovered to be named Fifi as well), your best friend was Mina and Seungmin was your favourite co-worker at your internship. As for your personality, you were pretty much the same with the exception of loving to go out and socialize.
Great. You were going to love being here.
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A week or so had passed since your arrival and you were starting to panic. There was not a day where you wouldn't get homesick and miss your old life, nor there would be a moment you thought of the potential other you having to live elsewhere. This was still a mystery to you. In the little time you had to do some research about travelling through different dimensions, the only thing you would find were fictional stories or theories from crazy people that were in no way consistent with what you were experiencing.
Besides that, accounting would never be a field of career you would personally choose which made all the lot more difficult. You were lucky to have Seungmin, a bright guy who volunteered to help you adapt upon learning about your issue.
"You're getting better," he commented after reviewing your report.
"Hopefully I'll be as good as I was in no time," you sighed before letting yourself drop on your chair. "Why did I even choose accounting?"
"You'd do it with such ease, it was an obvious choice."
"Yeah, well post-amnesia me hates it."
"And post-amnesia you is done with her shift for today."
You checked the time and realized he was right. You were glad today was ending in the early afternoon, it meant you would have time to stop by at the school's library to go on with your research. Without losing another minute, you sorted your documents on the small desk that you were assigned at and grabbed your belongings.
"See you tomorrow?"
Seungmin shook his head and chuckled. "Tomorrow is Saturday."
You formed an "o" with your mouth, blushing from embarrassment. You were quick to say bye to him and walk out of the building. Luckily, the campus wasn't too far from there. Nonetheless, you had to use the GPS as you weren't used to the neighbourhood yet. You were hoping you would never get used to it, anyway.
Having to wear heels at the company, you got the habit of bringing a pair of sneakers to change into once the day was over. This way, you could walk like a normal person instead of stumbling onto your own feet.
Once you reached the school's library, you were a bit intimidated by the size of it. There were so many rows just filled with bricks of books, each one of them different than the other. How on Earth would you find what you were looking for?
"May I help you?"
Your gaze moved to the front desk where the person calling for you spoke and you jumped at the sight. While the gentleman at the computer was smiling politely at you, a quiet Jisung was seemingly sorting books behind him, doing everything he could to avoid your eyes.
"Hi, do you have some sort of search browser for the books available here?" you asked the young man.
"There's a browser available on every public computer, although I have one with me just here. I can type in the book you're looking for right now."
"Oh, that's very nice but I'm actually not looking for one book in particular."
The man held his hand up to stop you. "Let me guess, magazine issues for a research project because the teacher asked for a paper reference?"
"Uh, no."
Your answer confused him furthermore, causing him to drop his shoulders in exasperation. "You read for fun?"
"Minho," Jisung interrupted the conversation. "You could help her instead of judging."
You were pleased to know he had enough self-esteem in him to speak his mind. The two of you hadn't seen or spoken to each other since you went back home-ish and you had been wondering what he was up to. Him working at the college's library had definitely not been what you thought he'd do to make money. Still, this was only a student job so it made sense. But a library? You didn't see a single actual book in his room.
"Right," Minho cleared his throat. "I apologize, what can I look up for you?"
"I'd rather look it up by myself if you don't mind," you said, a bit embarrassed.
"No problem, the computers are behind the philosophy essays section."
You nodded your head but didn't move the slightest. While this was supposed to be a place every student would go to get their work done, you didn't know your way here. Heck, it was a miracle you even made it to the library considering you visited the campus once in the week you'd been here.
"Go straight ahead and turn left when you see the couches."
You smiled at Jisung as a thank you, although he didn't return it, and followed his directions. Soon enough, you sat down at one of the stations and turned the PC on. The screen flashed the school's logo beautifully before it changed to the log in page.
Of course, you had to get into your student account to have access to this stupid computer. If you had an account, you certainly didn't have a clue about what your infos were. You went into your phone's notes to check if the other you had noted it down at some point. When you stumbled upon a note named Passwords, you thought you held the solution to your problem. However, the note itself was private and needed another code to get in. Even by trying your phone's passcode, it stayed locked.
Decisively, the world was against you for this one. Having no other option, you opted to look for what you were searching for on your own without any catalog. If it had to take until midnight, you'd stay until midnight.
You searched one row, and this one only took forty minutes to get through. This was discouraging but you wouldn't give up just yet. And so, another row was done after another forty minutes. There wasn't a book remotely close to what you needed, it was frustrating. And so, another row, another forty minutes.
"Need something?"
You really had to stop jumping every time something took you by surprise. Your focus was lost when Jisung, who was leaning on the bookshelf, was staring at you with a concerned look.
What you weren't aware of was that he had been watching you since you stepped foot in the library. He couldn't keep his mind off you since you left and seeing you so suddenly made him quite nervous. Seeing that you were as much of a mess as he was when you were looking around for a few hours now, it was good enough to give him courage to make the first move and come up to you.
"Actually, yes. I'd look through the catalog but I don't have a student account."
"Or rather you forgot it," he corrected and you nodded. "What do you need? It's my second year working here, I know the place like the back of my hand."
"No, I really rather look into it on my own."
He sighed but didn't insist any further. "Alright, I'll log you into my account."
You let out a breathy groan, throwing your head back in relief. "You have no idea how you're saving my life right now."
And you meant every word in their literal sense, unbeknownst to him. He led you back to the computers and chose one where he logged into in no time. You wanted to cry out of joy when you saw the welcoming page pop up with the school's tools already opened for the students.
"Thank you so much, I really owe you now."
He scratched the back of his head in uneasiness. "It's nothing."
You shook your head vigorously, refusing his answer. "You're too kind for this world and I want you to know it."
A blush crept on his cheeks and he allowed himself to smile a little. "Alright, then you're welcome."
With a satisfied grin, you sat down and opened the library's browser immediately. You looked into the categories first to see if you could make a more subtle research before jumping right into the actual topic. The section Legends and Myths caught your attention and you clicked on it. A vast selection of books, magazines and essays were offered to you which almost made you want to give up on the spot. But still, nothing online was helping you so this was your last hope.
You spent a lot of time, too much time, scrolling through the catalog. So much, you hadn't realized how dark it was outside until you looked around. There was nobody left, only you. When you checked the time, it was merely 8:00 P.M. which meant you still had about three to four hours to continue. However, the growl coming from your stomach was telling to take a break and get a snack. Were you too stubborn to quit and kept on searching anyway? Yes, you were.
The sound of wheels coming your way, on the other hand, could not let you focus properly. It was weird as you thought everyone had left. That was until you saw Minho and Jisung conversing while the latter was pushing a cart labelled with a paper reading Returned Books. Minho, who wearing his school bag, waved at his colleague before heading out, seemingly having finished his shift for the day.
"Jisung?" you called out once the man was alone.
He was startled to see you still at the same spot as earlier but he came your way, leaving the cart behind him. "What's up?"
"Is there a section about scientific research or something like that?"
"What kind of scientific research?" he perked an eyebrow at you. "Aren't you in accounting?"
"Uh..." you trailed off. This was too suspicious to your liking, you had to do without his help. "Actually, forget it. I wouldn't want to bother you while you still have stuff to do," you justified while gesturing the cart from afar.
Jisung wasn't having any of your bullshit. Sure, you were sweet and all but because you had been there for almost the entirety of his shift, he was growing skeptical of you. Your sudden amnesia was one thing but it had been a week, surely you wouldn't be in a library for hours not getting any actual schoolwork done if you didn't have something to hide. As observant as he was, he noticed all of your quirks. All of them were so similar to his own, meaning you were nervous. He didn't want to accuse you of anything, he genuinely wanted to help. Nonetheless, your behaviour caused him to doubt.
Or maybe was it just an excuse he was making up to get closer to you...
"The cart can wait," he argued.
And maybe having one person knowing about your situation might actually come handy. And if you had to pick someone to be aware of it, it would be Jisung. You weren't close enough with Seungmin and Mina seemed to have a tendency of gossiping and talking too much. Jisung was ideal. Plus, the man was the protagonist of the movie, a movie you weren't close to have finished watching. Having the opportunity to get a full insight into his personality wasn't an opportunity you'd pass on.
"Uh, okay," you started, preparing yourself mentally. "I- Can you promise me to not tell a word about this to anyone?"
His expression changed instantly, coming from a frown to a surprise. "What are you about to confess? A crime or something?"
"No, but it's still a pretty big thing and- Just promise me you won't tell a soul about it and that you won't judge me. And that you'll believe me."
His frown came back but he didn't seem as taken aback. "Uh, sure, yeah. I'll keep it to myself."
"Thanks... Okay, uh, where do I begin?"
"Hey," he said while putting a hand on your shoulder, a move that surprised the both of you. "I promise I won't say a thing, you can trust me."
This seemed to do the trick and you calmed down. "I don't have amnesia, I am perfectly fine in terms of memory. I just- I'm not from here."
"What do you mean?"
You were so fucking thankful he didn't accuse you of lying right away. "Do you know the theory about the universe having multiple copies of itself? Hence, many versions of a person?"
"I've seen it in movies."
"Yeah, except this is pretty fucking real for me right now and I somehow managed to come into a parallel universe in my other self's body."
You decided to spare him from telling him he's a movie's character. This was already a lot of information to process for him, telling him he wasn't real would be crushing him.
For a moment, he didn't respond. The frown never left his face. If anything, it got more defined. The longer he wasn't answering, the more you were getting nervous. Did you fuck it up by telling him (half) the truth?
"I saw one book about it, but I'm not sure if it applies to your situation."
Good, he didn't call you crazy. "Can you show it to me, please?"
He immediately led you to a section that was the furthest away from the entrance. It was a bit sketchy as it visibly wasn't frequented a lot. His eyes scanned a specific shelf while his fingers ran through the books. Eventually, he picked one out that had a hard cover with nothing on it other than the title: The Multiverse and its travelers.
"Here, hopefully it'll do."
You took it from him and read the back of it to figure out if it was fit for you or not. When you saw the phrase "seizures and blackouts tend to occur before the shift itself", you determined it would do the job. This was the closest you had gotten to knowing what happened, you had to read this.
"It's perfect, thank you."
"Great, I can enter it under your student account now," he smiled as he was about to go back to the front desk.
You shook your head immediately, grabbing his forearm to stop him. "I can't rent this. What if the other Y/N or other people see this? They'll have questions."
He sighed but he got your point. "I can put it under my name if it'll make you more comfortable."
"Please."
It didn't take him long to enter everything in the system before he gave the book back to you. You were so grateful he didn't react as bad as you expected. Not just that, he was even willing to give you a hand.
"Now that this is done, can you explain what happened to you to have travelled universes?"
Okay, maybe he wasn't totally chill with your situation, which was totally understandable. Before you could speak, your stomach made, yet, another grumble to tell you that you must eat.
"We can do this over a snack," he suggested.
"Aren't you working right now?"
He shrugged, unfazed. "Nobody's here and I can empty the returned books tomorrow."
In no time at all, he put the cart back behind the desk, clocked out of his shift, locked the doors, and walked you to the nearest convenience store. He insisted on paying for your drink and ramen, saying you must be exhausted from the day. Although you wanted to tell him otherwise, he wasn't wrong.
And that's how you were now sitting on the benches of the school's empty football field with only a couple of lights for you to see around.
"Alright, go ahead with the questions," you breathed out before taking a bite of your noodles.
He let out a chuckle as he watched you slurp. "Which one do I even ask first?"
"Whatever comes to your mind."
"Okay, uh... Where are you from?"
You hummed. "I actually don't know what to call it. Earth, obviously, but it's just another version of this one."
"Is it different here?"
"Not really, it's the same year and all but my other self is living a completely different type of life."
"How come?"
"I don't party that much, nor do I like anything having to do with accounting."
He let out a laugh. "I'd say I'm the same."
"Yeah, staying at home is ten times better."
"I agree," he acquiesced before taking a bite of his own meal. "What happened before you got here?"
You shrugged. "I tripped, thought I hit my head, and here I am."
"That's odd."
"Tell me about it," you said in a scoff. "How was I when you met me, anyway?"
"Do you mean you as in you or your other self?"
You frowned. "I thought you didn't know my other self."
He sighed. "I do know her, I just forgot about her. At the party, we actually hooked up but when she learned Mina had a feud with Chan, she told me to forget this even happened."
This explained many things, especially why Mina had such a dislike to the three men. You also began to wonder how did Jisung get in bed with the other you. Before your mind could go much further with that, you stopped yourself and let out a nervous laugh.
"Well, it worked," you chuckled awkwardly. "But yeah, how was I last week in front of that playground?"
He bit in lips while thinking, one of his habits you thought to be adorable. "From afar, you were walking around normally but then, you just kind of froze and began to have a panic attack or something."
"And you were kind enough to come to my rescue," you saw with a dreamy sigh, making him roll his eyes.
"Make fun of me all you want, you're happy I'm the one who rescued you."
"I am," you affirmed.
The blush on his face didn't go unnoticed by you, which also made your face red. Gosh, he really had to be this stinking cute? You had to muster all of your energy to not pinch his plump cheeks.
"Your name is really Y/N, right?" he asked just to be sure.
"That part is true."
"Okay, good."
Unlike other times, the silence that slowly settled between you two was rather comforting. Maybe it was because you had been mostly honest with him, or maybe because he was managing to get more comfortable around you. Either or both ways, you were content with how sereine it was.
"This is fucked up," he commented.
"I know."
As a new silence took over, Jisung's eyebrows furrowed as he stared into his ramen cup, deep in thoughts. While he was having what was probably a mental debate, you gave yourself permission to stare closely at his physical traits. He was hard to read and complex, which was mainly what made him so fascinating to you in the first place. His character was developed as someone so real and sincere, you were almost disappointed he wasn't actually real. His bead-like soft eyes, his perfect glowing skin, his hair that-
"My mom died," he informed you out of the blue.
Your heartbeat quickened all of the sudden. While you processed what he just said, the image of her death came back to you. "I'm sorry," was all you found the energy to say.
"That playground we were at last week was where she was hit by a car. I was so young, it was painful."
Sadness rushed through your body as you were now getting a full image of his emotions. You never expected him to be transparent with you about it, even less since you didn't know each other so well.
"Why are you telling me this? This seems to be pretty personal."
He smiled sadly. "I think she's the reason why I wanted to help you then. I felt her around me, telling me to save someone else for her."
"That's very sweet," you commented in a soft voice.
"It is," he laughed out. "I miss her a lot."
"I would too if I was you."
Slowly, the night came as you began to hear crickets around you. Deciding this was enough for tonight, the two of you left the school grounds. Jisung was generous once more when he offered to walk you home. He would lie if he said his heart didn't pinch when you refused. Nonetheless, you parted ways and began to walk in opposite directions on the dark streets. You were getting further away from each other when you decided to turn on your heels and run back to him. As he heard you come back, he turned around, watching you until you got face to face with him.
"Can I have your number? Since you're the only person who knows about my struggle," you explained, even if you used it as an excuse to keep contact with him.
"Yeah, sure. We can meet a few times to search for a way back together," he suggested which made you grin.
You might not have found a way home that day, but you found a friend.
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Mina was still staring at you with disgust while you were getting ready to go to Jisung's place. Apparently, Changbin and Chan were going to a party that night which left the apartment to himself. This was merely three days after your interaction at the library and you were still somehow stressed out about meeting up with him. The fact Mina was throwing a few comments at you about him didn't help.
"I'm simply trying to understand what you find interesting in him," she groaned.
"He's done a lot for me since the incident, I owe him."
She sighed in despair. "Alright but if he breaks your heart like Chan did to me, don't be surprised!"
You also took the weekend as an opportunity to get to know your roommate and her relationship she had with Chan. It had taken a toll on her emotionally, so much that she had no intention in being polite with whatever — or whoever — that was in relation with him.
"Don't become besties with him or I'll seriously consider cutting you out of my life," she added.
You deadpanned at her. "You wouldn't actually."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course not but I wouldn't be happy with it."
With that being said, you left the apartment and made your way to Jisung's place with your bag hanging on your shoulder, full since it contained your belongings plus his clothes you had forgotten to give him back. You were starting to know your way around which you didn't consider as a good sign. This meant you were getting used to this place and it just couldn't be like this.
The moment you knocked on Jisung's front door, it slung open for him to welcome you with a smile. He had seemingly cleaned a little around but it was still messy, as expected.
"So, I looked up some stuff online and I'm surprised you didn't see what was on there. It looks like many people believe to have experienced it," he said before turning his laptop's screen to your direction.
"I did see those and it just sounds like people dreaming of another universe before "travelling". For me, I just tripped."
His shoulders dropped. "I see."
"I appreciate the effort, though," you reassured, feeling a bit bad.
He invited you to get to his room where he could make some more research on his PC while you'd have the bed to read the book comfortably. Before going there, he didn't forget to make some hot beverages for the two of you as you were expecting for this to last a long while.
His bed was as comfortable as you remembered, you had almost missed it. Not that your own bed in this world wasn't nice, it just felt a bit too firm. Jisung's, however, was soft and warm. As you began your reading session, the only thing you could hear was Jisung typing on his keyboard and clicking with his mouse. It wasn't annoying in itself, but it was too distracting for you to focus.
When you realized you had been reading the same sentence for the fifth time, you decided to do something about it. Getting up, you tapped on his shoulder which made him take his headphones off.
"Did you find something?" he immediately questioned but you shook your head.
"Your typing is kind of distracting on its own. Do you have music you can play in the background?"
He blinked a few times before nodding. "I was listening to my own stuff, actually."
Oh, right. Jisung was described as a struggling musician in the synopsis, you had almost forgotten about that. This suddenly made him all the more interesting than the search and he definitely saw it in your eyes. Hesitantly, he disconnected his headset and plugged his speakers in before opening his files. There were so many audiotapes, you were stunned. To think all of this were his creations.
"I don't think I've told you but the guys and I are music majors."
"You didn't tell me but I heard about it, yeah."
"Well, we've been experiencing with sounds and beats to find what fits us. This is all of it, pretty much. We're trying to make an actual career out of it but none of the calls we've made have come back," he said as he let out a heavy breath, one of disappointment. "I'm actually starting to consider giving up on that."
You scoffed. "Nonsense, you're great!"
"How do you know? You've never heard anything by me."
Not exactly. The clips of him in his room struggling to make music in the film had a few samples of his songs playing and you did remember them to be very good. Of course, he would never know this, so you had to lie.
"I haven't but I'm confident you're very talented."
He chuckled, embarrassed. "Now I'm just nervous to show you if you have such high expectations."
"Don't be."
He scrolled through his files for a bit in search of the perfect song to show you first. There were many that were done with the other guys. Still, he felt like he wanted to show something that was 100% him. Something raw that you could relate to. The cursor stopped for an instant on his track Alien. Considering the context, this must have been the fittest one for you. So he clicked on it, letting it play through the speakers.
And just as he thought, this could not have been a better choice. From the first note, you were entirely immersed into the melody, bopping your head along with it. And when he began to sing, damn you were melting. Not only were his lyrics so personal and true, his voice had a melodic effect that made you want to squeal. Seriously, why was he struggling with his career if this was what he was putting out?
When the song ended, the only thing you could do was let out an emotional sigh. "You, guys, have so much talent."
He scratched the side of his arm sheepishly before shaking his head. "That was just me," he corrected.
"All of it?" you asked with admiration.
"All of it, from the sound to the singing and the lyrics."
He wasn't one to brag usually, but if it impressed you and interested you, there was nothing wrong with showing off a little. This information had visibly made you more fascinated by his work and you didn't hesitate to steal his mouse and put the cursor over another track.
You did this for a while, playing one song after the other. You were as amazed as you were by the first one every single time. This eventually made Jisung so shy about his work, he had to force you to stop even if you argued you wanted to listen to more. Forcefully, he kept you away from his computer and put a random playlist on for what you had originally requested, which was ambiance music.
You crossed your arms and pouted. "Is it so bad to want to listen to raw talent?"
"When the artist is right in front of you, yes. Now, get back to work."
You snorted at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Nevertheless, you still opened the book and continued to read. The first couple of pages weren't telling anything new. It mostly consisted of summing up what was already known of travelling through the multiverse, meaning not much. Although the research this author made was impressive, this had in no way the exact thing you were looking for. And as your reading kept on going, the more discouraged you were growing. There was a point you thought of abandoning the book. However, there were still too many pages left to risk missing something out.
"Got anything?" Jisung finally spoke after about an hour of research.
"Nothing, what about you?"
"Apart from a few people on Reddit talking about their shifting experience in their sleep, nothing."
You scoffed. "Yeah, not relevant to my case."
You closed the book and let out a loud yawn, catching Jisung's attention. "Tired?"
"A little," you shrugged. "Are you?"
"No, but this is getting tiring if I'm being honest," he chuckled and you smiled as to affirm you agreed. "How about we take a break and order some food?"
"No need to ask me twice."
In the time of a heartbeat, he jumped off his chair and ran out of his room, leaving you chuckling at his demeanor. Jisung was cute, you couldn't argue with that. Even more so because he seemed to like food so much, something you could relate to yourself. Before he would come back, you decided to look around some more, although you had analyzed the place quite a lot on your first day here. His room was cleaner, probably because he knew in advance that you'd be coming. For once, his closet was wide open which gave you a good opportunity to check what he wore on the daily basis. While you had only seen him in casual clothing, what you could see through his clothes were great fashion items. A shelf was filled with different kinds of hats and a whole section was dedicated to jackets of all sorts.
"It's always the fictional characters," you muttered to yourself, thinking about how none of the men from your world had this much taste in their choice of wearing.
"Alright," a loud voice said while coming in the room, almost startling you.
Jisung, unlike what you thought he'd do, sat next to you with a few flyers in hands from restaurants around the neighbourhood. Ramen, sushi, BBQ, fried chicken; there were too many, you felt a bit overwhelmed at the options.
"What do you want?" you insisted on him choosing.
"We could go for ramen," he shrugged before composing the number to make his order. "What would you like?"
"Anything, I'm not picky."
He gave you a nod before focusing back on the call as it seemed that someone answered. "Is this Felix?"
Felix? Why the hell was he calling him all of the sudden?
"Hey, man, can I have two of my usual?" Jisung continued to speak. "In thirty? Okay, good... Yeah... I'll tell him... Bye," he ended the call.
"You called Felix?" you asked.
He frowned. "Yeah, obviously, he–" he was about to say until he realized you actually didn't know. "My bad," he coughed out, embarrassed. "He works at the best ramen place near campus so let's say I get a few free stuff when it's his shift."
"Oh, okay," you said with a nod.
An awkward silence settled as you noticed him starting to fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking at anywhere but you. Although you always found him adorable when he got shy, you weren't going to let this be too uncomfortable for him. He was already helping you a lot, this was the least you could do.
"Do you want to watch something?"
He stopped his fiddling and looked up at you. "Do you think you have the same films and shows where you're from?"
You frowned. "Good question. Show me what you have and I'll tell you if it's the case."
He went to take his laptop and turn it on before sitting back next to you. He shyly gestured for you to get comfortable and lay with your back against the wall. You complied and, soon, he positioned himself next to you. You could see he was a bit nervous but he didn't let it show through too much. He was quick to open his Netflix account, which you thought was nice that the platform was here as well, and he scrolled through the few movies and series that were appearing. From the looks of it and based on his recommendations, he was watching a lot of anime movies and series.
"Yeah, it's very similar to what I have back home," you affirmed. "It's odd, how the hell is it the same?"
Jisung frowned as he also realized how bizarre it was. "Maybe you are in the same world as me?"
You shook your head. "How would you explain this other me having an entire different life than me while having the same name and the same bunny I have? Heck, she has the same parents."
Maybe you really did modify the movie by coming here. For the whole part of you having your own life, at least. As for the content of cinematography, it was logical that a movie would put the same cultural references to make more realistic to the audience. How were you going to explain this to Jisung, though?
"I don't think I have the brain to think about this too much, it's kind of freaking me out," he gulped. "I'm actually just starting to realize how fucked up your thing is..."
Your eyes went wide. "No, please, don't think I'm crazy..." you pleaded.
"I don't know, Y/N, this whole thing is weird as fuck."
"I swear I'm not making this up, I find it as bizarre as you do."
He shook his head. "No, I believe you. It's just, how the fuck?" he trailed off.
You only responded with a faint smile as to show him you weren't understanding this any more than he was. Thankfully, the moment wasn't long and you moved on by suggesting on watching a Ghibli movie. You loved them, he seemed to enjoy them, this was a perfect choice.
As the film was starting, the bell rang and Jisung paused it to go greet the delivery person, which you assumed to be Felix. You were confirmed to be right when the man himself walked in the room behind Jisung with two plastic bags. It took him a moment to take in your presence in his friend's bedroom.
"Damn, I knew this was going to happen after–"
He was interrupted mid-sentence when Jisung put his hand over his mouth. "Yes, this is a great reunion but we're just taking the food and you can be on your way."
"But–" Felix started when he managed to push the hand away, only to get cut off again.
"Felix," he gave him a look. "How much was it?"
Finally understanding he wouldn't get answers tonight, the two proceeded to payment while you watched them, still waiting patiently with the movie on pause. You chuckled upon seeing Jisung's slightly pink cheeks as he crawled back to your side with the food in hands.
"You two, lovebirds, enjoy your date," Felix said in a teasing voice before winking at Jisung.
As the boy left the flat, Jisung couldn't contain his embarrassment any more than this. "I swear to God I will kick his ass next time I see him," you hear him mumble under his breath.
You shrugged. "He has a point, it does look like a date night for a couple."
He cleared his throat. "I suppose it does a little... Anyway, this is what I got. I hope you like sea food."
"Not a favourite," you admitted which caused his shoulders to drop a bit. "I like it, though."
This seemed to cheer him back up and he happily took the bowls out of the bag. Next to his bed was a tray he kept close for occasions like these. Well, not the having-a-girl-over part but rather the watching-films-in-bed part.
"Fancy," you commented once he had everything settled and ready in front of you.
"Only the best for your stay here, miss," he joked and then proceeded to click on play.
You would've lied if you said the ramen wasn't good because this might have been the best meal you've had in years. It felt so perfect being in the comfort of a bed with hot soup while watching one of your favourite movies. Not only that, but there was this cute ass man next to you loving it as much as you were. This was quite a turn of events.
Jisung was a gentleman for taking your dishes out of the room after you were done enjoying the food. This meant that, for the remainder of the film, there was only a slight gap separating the two of you. Your focus no longer on eating, the only thing you could think of was the realization of Jisung's presence.
Needless to say, he was no better than you were. His eyes were still stuck on the screen but he could feel his head move instinctively towards your direction. It was much stronger than his free will, he was gravitating to you. As much as it scared the shit out of him, he was surprised to be loving it so much. You were easy to be around of, he didn't need to waste his social battery on you.
"Are you cold?" he asked as the characters on screen kept quiet for this scene.
You shivered a little, not having understood you were, in fact, cold. "A little."
"I- Do you... want to use the blanket?" he asked with uncertainty as he stared at the bedsheets beneath the both of you.
With a shy nod as a response, he invited you off the mattress so he could actually pull the covers down to allow you to make yourself comfortable. As you sat back down under the blankets, you stared at him in confusion upon noticing he sat still in a very stiff position on the covers of his side.
"This is ridiculous, come under here," you snorted at him but he didn't budge.
"That would be weird, wouldn't it?" he said in a small voice, making him too cute for your own sake.
"It is if you're making it weird. Don't question it, come on."
While your boldness took him aback for a second, he obliged the second after and, carefully, positioned himself in a much more comfortable way. Still, he was trying to draw himself away as far away from your body as possible. Of course, you understood the thought process of his actions but he was so far to the point he had to lean towards you to see the screen better. Even if you were thankful he was being respectful, this was simply ridiculous.
"Jisung," you sighed.
"What?"
Seeing that he wasn't moving a tiny bit, you took it upon yourself and scooted closer to his body, bringing the laptop with you before laying it on both of your legs. His body stiffed at the proximity and you thought of noticing him gulp.
"Is this okay?"
He looked back at you and nodded, his breath now cutting short from how close your faces were. If he had it in him, he would have kissed you right there and then. But sadly, this was not what happened and Jisung concentrated back to the movie.
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A routine was set quite rapidly after that night. Every once in a while, Jisung would call you up so you could make some progress in your research — which I can affirm was not advancing as fast as you wanted it to — and also just hang out. Whether you wanted this to happen or not, you were close to him and he became someone dear to you. Two months and a half after your arrival and you were closer to him than anyone else even, you dared to think, anyone back home.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" you snorted at Mina as soon as she stepped foot in the office you and Seungmin were working in.
"Tonight is party time, baby," she cheered. "Soohee is hosting the event of the year."
You exchanged glances with Seungmin before looking back at her. "What does that even mean?"
She deadpanned at you. "Soohee, that senior in theater class."
"The girl you told me we should both hate because she got the spot you wanted in that play?"
"So you do listen!"
You rolled your eyes, resulting to Seungmin laughing. You ignored his antics. "What are you implying here, Mina?"
"You're coming."
"I'm not."
"Please!" she pleaded with a pout. "Seungmin can come as well if that can convince you."
He raised his hand in disapproval. "First of all, I am invited already. Second of all, do I have a say in this?"
"No," Mina replied with a cheeky smile. "Come, Y/N, please. I haven't been out with my favourite girl since her incident and I miss getting drunk with her."
"Yeah, you do owe her that," Seungmin agreed to which you answered with a glare.
"No one asked for your opinion."
"But it is greatly appreciated," she said with a wink.
Looking back and forth at the both of them, you let out a huge groan, dropping your arms on your sides. "Fine, you win. I guess it will help with getting my mind off work and all."
She squealed before rushing to you to engulf your body in a tight hug. It was obvious you were going to regret it but did you really have a choice at this point?
"I'm done in an hour, I can continue working on your file if you want to leave in advance to get ready," Seungmin offered much to your dismay.
Mina's eyes glowed at his suggestion. "You're an angel, thank you so much."
"Nonsense!" you exclaimed. "I'll finish up with you, you can't be doing all of this on your own."
Mina tugged your arm to get you up from your seat. "Y/N," she whined.
Seungmin chuckled at the interaction. "Go, I'll be fine," he assured.
"Okay," you said reluctantly with a grateful smile.
You and Mina then rushed out of the building back to your apartment. The time was only 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and the party wasn't going to start in another two hours or so. But Mina was insistant on getting you ready and gossiping. Yes, gossiping.
As she had just sat you down on a chair in front of the mirror in the bathroom, about to curl your hair, she was giving you a look you were not liking. "So?" she said while wiggling one of her eyebrows.
"What?" you responded cluelessly while sipping onto your bubble tea.
She gave you another knowing look. "Oh, please, don't act like you don't know what I am referring to."
"Jisung?"
"Obviously."
You sighed. "He's helping me with some work, nothing more."
"You could have asked me," she shrugged, insinuating how actually hurt she was for not being as close to you as she used to. "I'm great with school work."
"I know but Jisung is... He just knows some stuff."
She scoffed. "Sure, he does. Just admit you asked for his help because you like the boy."
You got flustered very easily, bending your head onwards a little. Mina immediately replaced your head so she could continue to style your hair, inevitably exchanging looks with her through the mirror.
"Y/N," she insisted once more.
"It's not like that."
"If you say so," she said although it was clear she wasn't believing you. "I'm just trying to warn you. These guys are no good news."
"You say this because of Chan."
"I'm not," she argued.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her feelings were only getting the best of her. In a way, you were glad she was trying her best to protect you. At the same time, you'd seen no sign as to why you should be wary of Jisung. So far, he was someone sincere and honest, someone you really could rely on. It was hard for you to even think of the possibility of him hurting you.
"What if I like him?" you questioned.
She pondered for a second, visibly troubled by your question, but she answered. "Then I'll be very sad for you."
The remainder of time before the party was a bit awkward. You silently agreed to not speak on the matter anymore, so it was mostly small talk about what kind of products she was using to make your skin glow. It was hard to deny, she had the trick in terms of getting ready for events.
After bickering for a while about what you were to wear, you settled on a casual shirt with jeans while she chose a skirt for herself. You weren't planning on staying there for that long, anyway.
"Bye, my love," you cooed at your rabbit, earning a heavy sigh from your friend. "Hey! Let me love my bunny!"
"Alright, alright," she rolled her eyes. "Come on, now. We don't want to be late."
Soohee was the kind of girl who'd get anything from her parents as long as she kept her grades up. She was an excellent student, meaning she had literally everything she'd ask for. One of them was to have her own house near campus. Yes, her parents were that rich.
So no need to say how stunned you were when you arrived in front of the literal mansion. The music playing inside could already be heard from where you were and you spotted many students walking in and out of the place. This was worth to be in a movie. Funny enough, it was a movie. You began to wonder if this party would occur in the actual film. Probably not, since Jisung wasn't the type of person to go out.
"You're looking gorgeous, ladies," you heard coming from your right.
You smiled at Seungmin before enveloping him into a hug. "You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Kim," you complimented.
"So," he let out after breaking away from your embrace. "This is what the big deal is about."
"Fancy, isn't it?" Mina said excitedly. "Let's go inside, I need a good drink."
Before you could say something, she was already heading towards the entrance. You and Seungmin couldn't do anything else but follow her. While you didn't feel at ease so much, you were happy to see a familiar face as soon as you walked in.
"Hyunjin?" you called him out.
The man had his arm wrapped around Soohee's shoulder when he spotted you. "Hey! Y/N, right?"
"That's me," you chuckled.
Soohee looked back and forth at the two of you. "You two know each other?"
Hyunjin shrugged. "A friend of a friend of a friend... We met each other a couple of times, nothing more," he explained, seemingly trying to reassure his partner. "Y/N, this is my girlfriend Soohee."
"I know, you're kind of a big name around here," you said to the girl.
"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "Nice to meet you! Any friend of Hyunjin is welcomed here."
Mina nudged your arm, a sign she wasn't too fond of your newfound friend. Nonetheless, she greeted the girl happily as if they had been friends for years. She was a lot better than you in faking kindness.
"I'm glad to see you made it," Soohee said with a smile.
"I could not miss it for the world," Mina said through her teeth.
The couple left to greet more people coming in, leaving your trio together. Mina, who hadn't enjoyed this interaction, hurried herself to go get something to drink — you and Seungmin following her again. The counter had tons of sorts of drinks. Some had questionable colours but most looked tasty as hell. Assuming Mina knew what to take, you picked a cup of the same drink as hers. Seungmin went ahead with getting himself a beer from the cooler near the counter.
"That girl is so annoyingly nice, I hate it," Mina spat out in-between sips.
"Now, don't be so harsh on the girl. We're in her house after all," Seungmin tried to resonate her.
She shrugged. "Sure. Y/N, I'm going to the other room if you want to come with me."
"What other room?" you asked, confused.
"The room at the back is the biggest of the house where interesting stuff happen."
You looked at Seungmin for advice but he shrugged, letting you choose for the three of you. You ended up following her lead since she was the expert in social events like these. She was right, the room was so much bigger and organized as to make a few beer pong stations in the middle while couches were put against the wall for those who preferred sitting down. Mina didn't wait for you when she heard that a new game of beer pong was starting and she rushed to say she and you would play.
"Oh, great," you mumbled to yourself but Seungmin heard you as clear as day.
"Go have fun," he chuckled but received a glare from you.
"Seungmin, want to join our team?" Mina yelled out at him, causing him to sigh.
"Come on, let's go have fun," you copied him teasingly and it was his turn to glare at you.
You took his hand despite his protests and joined Mina at the table. She was already setting the cups ready for the game and you lost no time in giving her a hand.
"Oh, Y/N?" you heard a familiar voice say.
Looking up, you were pleasantly surprised to see Changbin grinning at you. "Hey, Bin."
At the sight of the man, Mina's eyes went wide open. "Fuck, don't tell me..."
The worst she was expecting happened when Chan joined his friend's side. He looked as troubled by Mina's presence as she was by his. You felt like you shouldn't be there, their staring contest was a bit much for you.
"Do you still want to play?" you asked her in a worried voice.
"Why wouldn't I want to play anymore?" Mina acted as if nothing was wrong.
Chan let out a chuckle. "Alright, if you say so."
"You don't believe me, Christopher?"
His jaw clenched but he remained calm. "I didn't say the opposite."
"You're missing a player," Seungmin pointed out.
"Are we?" Changbin cheekily said.
Almost on cue, another man joined the lot as he placed himself next to Chan. As soon as he saw you, Jisung froze. While he didn't want to come to this party originally, he certainly did not expect you to be there. Even less dressed up like you were. That shirt of yours exposed so much of your skin and curves, he could feel the sweat on his forehead.
"My bad," Seungmin said upon seeing Jisung.
Your gaze lingered on him for longer than it should. While it was the others' turn to play, the two of you were exchanging a few looks with each other. It was either funny faces or one of you mouthing something the other couldn't understand. At one point, you were growing frustrated to no be able to decipher what he was trying to tell you. He chuckled as he saw the frown form on your face.
"Cute," he mouthed but you were still clueless.
"Uh?"
Yeah, he gave up. You were not the best at lip-reading, it wasn't your fault. Instead of repeating himself like he had done for a while now, he winked at you. That was new. Not knowing how to react, your face went red as you attempted to look at anywhere but him. He grinned at himself, satisfied by your reaction. You were too adorable, he hated it.
Your team ended up losing, much to Mina's disappointment. The girl had drank so much from the game only, you were growing worried about her physical state. Despite that, her fury against Chan was much stronger than a couple of drinks and she rushed after him once the game was over.
"I should follow her, right?" you said to Seungmin.
"Yeah, definitely," he affirmed which was all it took for you to go after her.
As you got closer, you reached out to grab her wrist but she broke free harshly. "Christopher Bang Chan!" she called out.
You winced in embarrassment, feeling bad for her. Chan immediately turned around, eyes growing bigger while Mina threw herself onto him. Luckily, he was quick to catch her.
"Hey, maybe you should sit down for a minute, yeah?" he said softly to her but she was not listening.
"You're such an ass, embarrassing me all the fucking time," she claimed.
You felt a nudge on your arm and let out a sigh of relief when you saw Jisung by your side. You had been meaning to go see him once you made sure Mina was alright. Clearly, this was not how things were going.
"Maybe we should leave them some privacy," Jisung suggested.
"But Mina is obviously not okay," you argued.
"Chan is with her, it'll be fine."
He took your hand and, reluctantly, you agreed to follow him outside to get some fresh air. The night was just a little breezy, but it was perfect for this kind of social gathering. There was, unsurprisingly, an inground pool along with a jacuzzi and a few outdoor couches. A little fire was lit further away from the house where some guys you didn't know were conversing in laughs. You were glad to see that none of them had a drink nearby, meaning it wouldn't turn into a disaster.
Jisung led you to one of the couches and sat with you. You had not noticed until then but he brought you a drink along with his. You thanked him as he offered it to you and you sipped in silence while watching the other students mess around. Some couples were making out in front of everyone, groups of friend were dancing together, others were simply catching up... Somehow, it was calmer outside than what was happening in the house.
"I never thought I'd see you here," Jisung informed with a small laugh.
"I could say the same about you. What are you even doing here?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"Soohee has some friends who work in an entertainment company. Chan thought it'd be a good idea to make some contacts within the industry so we can get somewhere with our stuff," he explained without much enthusiasm.
"I suppose things are still not taking off?"
He scoffed with a small smile. "We've been putting music out for a while. Shouldn't we at least have established a bit of a fanbase yet?"
"I'm a fan," you grinned widely.
"It's different, the real Y/N wouldn't like our stuff. Besides, you're my friend. That doesn't count."
You tried to ignore the hurt his comment caused to your heart. "What tells you she wouldn't have liked it? And, sure, I'm your friend but I'm honest. I would have told you if your music was trash."
He smiled thankfully but you still saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I really appreciate it. Still, you're too nice and you might just be trying to cheer me up right now."
"Fine, guilty," you sighed. "I am trying to cheer you up but I'm sincere. I love your music."
He let out a heavy breath before taking your hand, rubbing the top of it softly with his thumb. "Thank you."
"It's nothing, I'm being truthful," you said while raising your shoulders.
"What about you? Why did you come here?" he said, letting go of your hand to take another sip of his drink.
You tried to hide the fact you missed his touch already and cleared your throat. "Mina."
This was all the explanation he needed. "She would have been too suspicious of you if you didn't go to a party with her at some point."
"I know, that makes me want to go home even more honestly."
He choked up on his drink at your statement. You panicked for a second, patting his back to make sure he was okay. Once his coughing stopped he looked at you right in the eye.
"That much?" he asked in an almost hurt voice.
You gibbered for a bit, unsure as to why he was reacting this way. "I mean, kind of? As much as I love it here, I do miss my family and my actual bed," you tried to joke but he didn't laugh with you.
"Minho's not working this Tuesday if you want to come at the library. We could do more digging into the books," he suggested.
"Oh, sure. Actually, that'd be perfect. Thank you, Ji."
Your smile pained him even more. Of course, he couldn't blame you for wanting to go back home, he would have felt the same. However, there was something about you he became addictive of. Whether it was your being, your presence, your ability to make him feel comfortable so easily... All of it became something he couldn't imagine losing. There was something else within you, a spark. The last time he saw one like it was with his mother.
"Hey," you called for him. "Are you okay?"
Remembering where he was, he gulped and got up. "Sorry, I have to go."
And just like that, he went back inside without a word. You watched him, confused, until his shadow disappeared among the other figures around him. You wanted to follow him but not knowing what had caused him to leave so abruptly held you off. Was he mad at you? And what for? You couldn't bear with imagining you had caused him pain. Hesitantly, you got up and walked towards the back door. Only, you never reached the back door.
"Ouch!" you yelled out when your body collided with a frame bigger than your own.
"Oh my Gosh, Y/N, I'm so sorry," the person immediately apologized.
While you had technically never met him before, you recognized Jeongin from the pictures in your phone. "No, don't worry about it. I wasn't looking."
"But I kind of spilled my drink on you," he chuckled, embarrassed. "And you spilled yours too."
You looked at your empty cup and groaned in annoyance. "Great."
"Do you want my hoodie to cover the stain?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, just give it back to me next time we see each other," he said with a bright smile. "Talking about that, I haven't seen you in a while."
You gratefully put his hoodie on and followed as he was walking back inside to get himself a new cup. "Yeah, I haven't been myself lately let's say."
"Beer? Punch? Sangria?" he asked while pointing at the different beverages.
"Sangria," you picked out and he gave it to you before picking one for himself.
"Yeah, Mina told me you had an amnesia episode or something?"
"Or something... I'm better now, though. Well, I think so."
He let out a laugh. "You do seem good. I assume you remembered me since you didn't look so confused when I went on about not having seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I do. It's a bit blurry but it's coming back to me slowly."
"Good, I'm glad. Did you go to a doctor to check it out?"
Oh. That was suspicious, wasn't it? Claiming to have amnesia without getting a professional to take a look at it. Your heart began to race as anxiety spread through your body. What if Jeongin was to uncover your act? What would happen then?
"I brought her to one the first day."
You thanked whoever who had brought Jisung near to save you. You wouldn't be able to explain how relieved you felt at this moment.
"Oh, that's good," Jeongin nodded. "Jisung, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Do you mind if I steal her from you?"
He sent the both of you a knowing look and didn't protest before walking away to elsewhere. As Jisung watched him leave, he sighed as he was about to nag you for not being careful. However, as soon as his focus was back on you, he froze in place when you dropped into his arms. It wasn't too noticeable but he could feel your body shaking.
"Thank fucking God, you were there," you breathed out. "I thought you were mad and I was going to look for you but I bumped into him and then I-"
"Hey," he stopped you. "I'm not mad at you, you don't have to explain anything to me." He pulled away from you but still had a grip on your shoulders. "How about we stick together for tonight?"
You nodded in agreement which he responded with his boxy smile. For a second — although it felt like minutes —, you couldn't see anything else but him. There was no way to describe how you felt around him. It was a mix of safety, happiness, comfort, nervosity, etc. All of these feelings, and more, altogether.
"You're pretty," you unconsciously let yourself slip out.
Jisung's cheeks had a faint pink colour to them but it didn't seem to bother him. "I think you're the pretty one between us," he corrected.
You shook your head and got closer to his face to inspect his features. "You're prettier," you affirmed once you analyzed his face.
He let a nervous laugh out. "Y/N..." he began, but didn't seem to find it in him to finish his sentence.
Your being brought him into a whole other world. If this was travelling universes, he'd want to do it all the time. This world only had you and him in it. Curiously, he was content with that idea. Somewhere where it could only be the two of you.
"Kiss me."
His brain short-circuited. A second ago, his mind was elsewhere, and now, you brought him back to reality in an instant. However, he still wasn't able to acknowledge people surrounding you. His sole focus was on the two words you said, and on your lips. Those pink lips he had always wished to kiss ever since that night when he saw you in his clothes. And you were demanding him to kiss you. Why couldn't he do it?
"Whoo!"
The loud scream coming from only a few meters away from you broke you out of your trance. Your gazes darted away from each other to find Minho, who was very much drunk, proudly showing his empty can to a group of girls after doing a shotgun.
The two of you, still holding onto each other, opted to go back to the main room in order to diffuse the weird tension between you. The sight you stumbled upon certainly was not what you thought of seeing any time soon. Chan was grabbing Mina by the waist, keeping her body close to his, as they kissed hungrily in the corner of the room. Near them was an annoyed Changbin, doing everything he could to avoid looking at the couple. The moment he spotted the two of you, he waved at you to come and join him.
"What's this about?" you asked, motioning towards your friends.
"Long story short, they left for a while and came back like this."
"Who would have thought she'd get laid with Chan?" you huffed.
Changbin glared at you. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Y/N."
Well, Changbin was being pretty sensitive tonight. It might have been the alcohol or the dislike he had for Mina. Anyhow, this looked pretty funny to you.
"The party's here, I see," Felix exclaimed as he joined you, bringing his arms around you and Jisung. "How are you, guys?"
"Tired," Changbin replied grumpily.
Hyunjin, Soohee, and Minho, who had all been following Felix, came to sit on the couch next to you. You had just then realized Seungmin was nowhere to be found, which was odd considering he wouldn't have been the kind to wander around too much.
"Soohee," Changbin called for the girl who broke her kiss with Hyunjin to look at him. "Did they say anything to you?"
You assumed he was referring to these friends of hers who worked in the music industry. Soohee clapped her hands together in response, a wide smile spread on her face.
"They've got a spot this summer for new producers and they told me they'll slide a word to their boss to give you the position," she squealed excitedly.
"You're kidding," Jisung said blankly, not believing her.
"I'm not!" she affirmed.
Jisung heard her right. Still, he couldn't fully process what she said. He had the chance to actually make a career out of his hobby. This felt so unreal, his face remained hard as stone, unable to express what he was feeling. Quite frankly, he didn't know what he was feeling himself. While the others around him were cheering happily about the excellent news, everything was a blur for him. Even if he couldn't be any happier, this also meant things were getting serious. Was he ready for this? He was still so young, maybe this was happening fast.
"Ji?" you said to him softly, noticing that he wasn't quite there.
"Uh?" he said while blinking slowly.
"You good?"
He swallowed and then stared back at you. "It's all a tad overwhelming," he admitted.
You gave him a reassuring smile before taking his hand. "How about we celebrate for now and worry about the rest later?"
This did the trick to bring him back fully from his thoughts and he finally allowed himself to cheer with the others. The first thing he did was bring your body into an embrace, holding you close. So close, you could feel his breath grazing the top of your ears, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Guys," Soohee said loudly enough to grab everyone's attention. "I have to precise, there is no certainty you'd be taken. But if you are, then don't mess it up. You've got one chance, and only one."
"Having the position or not, this is the furthest we've gotten so far," Chan answered. "Either way, this is accomplishment."
"I say we drink to this!"
You widened your eyes when you saw Seungmin leaning onto Jeongin as the both of them walked towards you. This was definitely not how you imagined Seungmin be by the end of the night. He was the last person who'd get drunk like this. However, nobody seemed to care and they all agreed to get themselves more alcohol for the occasion.
Meh, at this point, nothing was keeping you from having fun. Besides, Jisung was there. There was nothing to be worried about, as long as he was around to keep you safe.
You didn't know how long you had been drinking and dancing with Mina when you felt yourself getting dizzy. You tried to shake yourself out of your drunken state but there was no use, you had consumed more than needed. Although Mina wanted for you to keep partying with her, you had enough sanity to decline and make your way back to the couches.
The faint view you had in front of you was of a concerned Jisung discussing with Minho. As soon as his eyes laid on your clumsy self, he lost no time in holding onto you to keep yourself from tripping.
"Hey, there," he said softly before guiding you to sit down. "How about you take a little water break?"
You pfft at him. "Who needs water? It tastes like shit."
"I'm not giving you a choice."
Before you could argue, Minho — who you hadn't noticed had left — held a bottle in front of you. Jisung gave him a thankful nod as he took it from him and opened it for you. One would say you were acting like a child as he was trying to get you to drink. Your whines and uncoherent babbles were both concerning and cute to him. The pink that had appeared on your cheeks didn't help.
"It's near 3:00 A.M." he informed to nobody in particular.
"Wow, so early!" you exclaimed.
"You're right, I think it's time we get you home."
You frowned. "Get me home? You found a way to get me home?"
He shut his eyes close for a second. "Not like that, your other home."
You pouted. "But I miss my bed."
"I know you do. Now, can you be quieter? There are people around," he whispered in your ear which tickled it.
"Ji," you giggled and he sighed in exasperation.
"Chan, Changbin," he said to his friends who were standing next to you both. "I think we should leave."
"Finally!" Changbin said with a groan. "I'll get our stuff."
"And I'll get Mina," Chan said before wincing at the sight of his lover.
The girl had found her way to a table where she had let her body fall onto. Her face was inches away from a beer someone had left behind and you could see in her eyes how she was debating internally whether she should take it or not.
The boys had no problem with taking the both of you in Changbin's car and driving back to their place. Although the two other men argued on getting you to your apartment, Changbin just wanted to go back in the comfort of his room. Not that he didn't have fun that night but he was tired as hell. As he was the designated driver, his friends didn't protest any more and they drove home.
"Are you okay with her?" Chan asked Jisung in a concerned voice as they both helped you and Mina get inside.
"Take care of her, don't worry about us. I'll just help her get in bed," he assured and Chan gave him a nod before disappearing in his own room with Mina.
You were left in his care as Changbin had no worry other than going to sleep. You weren't heavy which made the task so much easier for Jisung. Even if you were still mumbling things he couldn't understand fully, you seemed much relaxed than back at Soohee's which he took as a good sign. He carefully laid you down on his bed, making sure he placed your head properly on the pillow.
"Jisung," you mumbled.
He instantly stopped moving you around and crouched to face you. "What is it? Do you need anything?"
"What if I can't get home?"
His heart stopped for a second. He knew you had worries because you still hadn't found a way to travel back to your world but he hadn't noticed how much it actually was affecting you. He was foolishly too focused on spending time with you to notice that. It was time he showed you what he found, he thought. He couldn't be this selfish any longer, it was hurting you.
"You'll find a way, I'm sure of it."
Of course, he was. He had already found it. He was just not ready to see you go yet. Yeah, he shouldn't have gotten so attached to you. But can you blame him? You were so warm and caring to him, it didn't take long for him to like you.
"I'm not so sure, myself," you began to cry and it broke his heart.
"Don't cry, it'll happen," he shushed you softly, rubbing your shoulder.
Without thinking (well, you weren't thinking at all under the influence of alcohol), you took his arm and pulled him closer clumsily. You somehow managed to get him on the mattress and you snuggled into his chest. You could tell he didn't know how to react but you couldn't care less. You were sobbing and in need of his warmth.
"Y/N," he said in a whisper.
"The thing is, I don't even know if I want to go back anymore," you continued to cry.
He was confused about your statement. "What do you mean?"
The rubs he was giving you on your back gave you goosebumps, you didn't know if you had the energy to keep yourself from spilling anything you'd regret the next day. "I mean that I like being here with you."
His breath increased. "I am fun to be around," he joked as to ignore what he knew you were insinuating.
"As in I like you."
Here, you said it. Fatigue mixed with drinking hadn't been of help with keeping this to yourself. Heck, you didn't even admit it to yourself and here you were declaring your crush on a fictional boy. This was ridiculous. However, your sober mind was not present. You would have to worry about that later.
In the meantime, Jisung couldn't find the words to respond to this. This was what he had hoped for in a while, you feeling the same towards him. Still, he knew as much as you that this couldn't happen. But fuck, he couldn't fake it any more. Not only that but he had also drank his fair share, he wasn't fully aware of himself either. That's why he wasn't able to stop himself from speaking his mind.
"I think I like you too."
Six simple words. And yet, that was all it took for something to snap in your head. Moving to be face to face with him, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips on his. He was quick to match your movements and pace making your lips move in total sync. Even if this was wrong on so many levels, there wasn't anything that felt as right as this. It was almost like you were meant to be together like this.
Jisung swiftly pushed you to be on your back while he positioned himself on top of you, giving him better access to pepper your face with small pecks. As one of his hands stood next to your head to steady himself, the other had no problem exploring your curves, moving up and down from your waist to your hips. A few squeezes here and there, and you were gasping. You wanted more. Your fingers found their way underneath his shirt and you couldn't stop yourself from touching the skin of his abdomen. Fuck, since when was he so toned?
You felt him shiver under your touch and he growled before attacking your neck, sucking on your skin. You gasped and a moan escaped your mouth. This was definitely going to be visible tomorrow.
"Make that sound again," he said in a raspy voice and it made your mind go crazy.
As he sucked once more, you moaned again and you could tell he was having the time of his life getting you to make these noises for him. In a hurry, you took the hem of his shirt and pulled it up needily. You felt his lips form a smirk against your skin. In the time of a blink, he helped you remove his shirt which now left him totally exposed to you. Your eyes widened at the sight. You didn't know he had been working out, his proportions were insane. From his tiny waist to his prominent pecs to his massive arms; he was perfect.
It didn't take long for him to get your shirt off as well. What he hadn't expected was the lack of bra. He immediately became bright red from seeing your breast on full display in front of him. Although this was a view that took his breath away, it switched something in his mind. He suddenly realized what was happening, as if he was sobering up all of the sudden.
"Y/N," he said again, his voice now shaky. "I can't do this."
You frowned. "What? Why not?"
"We're both drunk, I can't possibly take advantage of you like this."
Before he could hear your complaints, he got off of you and back on his feet next to the bed. Carefully, he brought the covers over your body and tucked you in. While you were still pouting, something about him caring that much about your well-being made your stomach flip upside down. He placed a kiss on top of your head and was about to leave the room. Only, you didn't let him.
Grabbing his finger, you looked up at him. "Stay."
And to that, he couldn't say no. So he stayed.
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You would have been much better if you hadn't woken up half-naked in Jisung's bed the next day. While you thought you were in the comfort of your dorm with Mina, the scent of Jisung was all over the covers, engulfing you in another type of comfort. In a way, you were glad it was in his home that you were. On the other hand, his shirtless body laying next to you sent you into panic mode real quick. You had no recalling on what happened after the whole gang began drinking like there was no tomorrow and, frankly, you wondered if you wanted to know what happened.
You sat straight up, pulling the blankets over your chest to cover your bare skin, but an intense headache suddenly hit you. You had forgotten how hangovers were this painful. No shit you weren't going out a lot. As you winced at the pain, a few images came back to you.
The first to hit was Jisung's lips on yours. You suddenly remembered how you had pulled him into a kiss after having cried in his arms in his room. It still wasn't clear why you were sad, but one thing was for sure: you fucked up big time.
Another image that hit you was Mina in a much worse state than yours. Chan had her in his arms while her face became so pale to the point it wasn't a skin colour anymore. Where was she even? Did she make it back home.
The final memory you got back was of you removing Jisung's shirt. Well, at least you knew who between the two of you had been needier than the other. You cursed at yourself, already regretting having allowed yourself to let go this much. This guy wasn't real, for fuck's sake. In no way could you even consider the option of having feelings for him.
Well, there wasn't any feelings, technically. It was only a bit of kissing and making out, nothing more.
"Good morning," a deep and raspy voice greeted you, making you almost jump out of bed.
Jisung stretched his arms out before yawning loudly. Once he opened his eyes fully, he was met with your panicked face. That automatically got him nervous and by the way you were shamefully covering yourself, he felt like nothing good was about to happen.
"Fuck," he cursed out in a whisper before rubbing his face with both hands.
"That's one word to describe it," you huffed shyly. "Do you remember what happened?"
He lifted his head up and perked an eyebrow. "Do you remember what happened?" When he saw you hesitate, he cursed again. "Shit, I'm so sorry."
"No, no," you immediately said. "I do remember most of it. Just, not in details, if that makes sense."
His shoulders relaxed but that didn't dismiss the worry spread on his face. "So, what now?"
"Good question."
You didn't dare looking at one another, you were both too ashamed for that. As you were trying to find the right thing to say next, a loud bang was heard from the kitchen. You determined the boys must have woken up after hearing Chan nag Changbin for being clumsy. You and Jisung exchanged an awkward chuckle but that was it. You still weren't able to say anything.
"What's up, guys! Woah," Chan coughed out when seeing your physical state and he closed the door right after. "Uh, so... I made breakfast if you're hungry."
"Thanks, we'll be out in a bit."
The footsteps faded away after a few seconds which was your cue you were back to the awkward moment with Jisung. He didn't seem any more comfortable than you and you began to question if he had any regrets. Obviously, you hated yourself for what occurred last night but you couldn't regret it. It was so passionate and intimate, you hadn't felt so much lust with someone in a long time.
Jisung was the first to finally move and he walked to his closet. Shamefully, you couldn't contain yourself from looking. His back was well-defined, he was like a sculpture. There was no way his body was this perfect.
"Here," he said before throwing a hoodie your way. "I figured mine would look better on you than Jeongin's."
He didn't let you say anything back and he was out the room the second later, lazily putting a shirt on as he walked to the kitchen. You were left dumbfounded as you stared at the piece of clothing in your hands. There was a hint of teasing and jealousy in his voice, you kind of liked it. It wasn't possible for you that he had noticed Jeongin's shirt so much that he'd mention it to you. It was one way to know he might have feelings similar to yours.
After shaking your mind off these thoughts, you threw the hoodie on and went to join the boys to go eat. As soon as you stepped inside the kitchen, your gaze found Mina's. She looked much better than last night, having found her colours a little. She waved at you happily before taking another bite of her toast.
"I didn't remember you coming here with us," you commented as you sat next to Jisung (which was oddly the last free seat).
"To be honest, I don't remember a thing," she laughed. "But I do know Chan and I made up so that is what matters." She leaned to kiss him and then smiled even more. "I heard the two of you had an exciting night."
Jisung choked on his juice, coughing loudly. You chuckled a little but that didn't prevent you from blushing either.
"I'm guessing Hannie finally made a move," Changbin teased his younger friend with a nudge.
"I'd be more prone to think Y/N did," Chan added.
Your face grew redder by the second. "Can we not talk about it?"
This seemed to do the job and the others kept their mouths shut for the rest of the breakfast, only discussing about Mina and Chan's reunion. While you tried your best to take part in the conversation, your shoulder barely touching Jisung's distracted you too much. Weird, no? Only a few hours earlier, you had no shame touching him but here you were, terrified by his mere presence.
"I'll walk you home," Jisung announced once you were both back in his room.
"I can walk by myself just fine, thank you," you turned him down as you grabbed the shirt you were wearing last night along with Jeongin's hoodie.
"I'm not offering," he insisted. "I need to make sure you get there safely."
"Mina and I will walk together," you insisted back, not understanding why he was being so stubborn.
This time, he admitted defeat and dropped himself on his bed. "Text me when you get home, at least?"
"I will."
It reassured him a bit as he smiled shyly. "I'll text you for Tuesday, also."
Oh, right, Tuesday. You almost forgot about it. With a small nod, you left his room and joined Mina at the front door. She and Chan exchanged knowing looks but you ignored them. Waving bye to your friends, you both took off to get back home.
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Tuesday came sooner than you had wanted to. Jisung barely texted you, only a few times to let you know where he was at with his research. Other than that, the few past days had mostly consisted of you ranting about your complicated relationship to Seungmin. The poor guy hadn't asked for anything and here he was, forced to listen to your problems. He actually did not mind, he was simply not very expressive when it came to gossiping.
"Are you sure you don't have more files to work on?" you asked him once again.
He deadpanned at you. "Stop this, you're going to go there and face him."
You whined. "I don't want to."
"You have to."
"Can't you come with me?"
"No!"
You huffed in annoyance. "Are you really my friend?"
He rolled his eyes at your question. "You're being so dramatic. What is even the problem? You like him, he likes you; it should be easy."
You bit your lower lip down. "It's more complicated than that."
"Is it?"
It was no use trying to explain to him, that would involve outing you out and you couldn't risk it. So, you sucked your sappy self up and left the office, earning you a "there you go" from Seungmin. You were supposed to meet with Jisung an hour ago but you were too much of a scaredy cat to actually get to the library and you worked some more to buy yourself time. But Seungmin was right, you couldn't put it off any longer.
You were almost shaking when you found yourself in front of the library's door. From outside, you could see him through the window. He was doing nothing more than sorting books and scanning a couple of them but the sight of him was all you needed to make your heart beat ten times faster. Taking a deep breath in, you repeated to yourself this was no big deal. You were coming to see a friend, nothing more. You finally pushed the door open and walked to the front desk. As he had told you, Minho was nowhere in sight. His back was still facing you, meaning he hadn't noticed you yet.
"Just a moment and I'm all yours," he spoke as he finished up his task.
This was a simple phrase of politeness. And yet, the idea of him being yours briefly passed through your eyes. No, this was getting out of hand. You had to stop this behaviour.
As soon as he turned around, his mouth's shape changed into an "o". "I thought you bailed on me."
You scratched the side of your arm in shame. "I had extra work to do at the office."
"No, it's all good. I just thought-" he was about to say but paused before shaking his head. "Never mind. There aren't many students today so we should be fine in terms of discretion."
You nodded as you watched him walk around the counter. Did he really have to look that good in his red shirt? He seemed to have put much more effort in his appearance than usual. Nevertheless, this was not the time to check him out. You followed his steps towards a section in the back, one you hadn't explored yet. You were quite perplexed when he stopped in front of the fairy tale section and scrunched his nose while scanning through the books.
"Fairy tales?" you scoffed. "You must be joking."
He rolled his eyes as he pulled out one book. "Let me show you first."
"Well, sorry but this is not very promising."
He sent one more glare your way and began to flip the pages. "Don't be mad, I actually found this a while ago. I was afraid you-" he restrained himself from speaking again. "That you'd judge it because it is a fairy tale."
This was not what he wanted to say originally, you could easily tell but the way he cleared his throat. Even though you wanted to insist for him to spill it, he didn't let you by shoving a page in your face. You scrutinized the words attentively as you took the book from him. It might have been a fairy tale, a work of fiction, but the story was almost identical to how you arrived in this world.
Once upon a time, a princess lived in a castle. The girl loved her castle more than you could imagine. She was living a happy life on her own with the company of the animals of the forest. Some were big, some were small, but all loved the princess very much.
One day, the princess was reading a book like she would do every night before going to bed. The only difference was how marveled she was by its story. It told the journey of a boy living in the country, trying his best to live by his late mother's wishes despite not being very wealthy. Something about this boy moved her, she felt for him.
As she was about to go back to her chambers, one missed step on the stairs caused her to lose balance. In the snap of a finger, she tripped. Only, she never really fell. Once she opened her eyes, she was in a place she had never visited before. She was in a quaint little farm where a dozen of hens were greeting her with their clucks. Confused she was but these thoughts vanished when her gaze fell on a boy. She immediately knew who he was.
"How is this relevant?" you groaned, not understanding how he even thought this was anything close to what you had experienced.
"She tripped and found a boy, just like you," he pointed out. "You can skip to the last page, that's where it shows how she came back to her palace."
The boy invited the princess for dinner. It was not much, but it was all he could afford for her. He had cooked all of the dishes by himself, something he was quite proud of. He was hoping he would be proposing to the girl. Tonight was supposed to be the most gorgeous eclipse of their era, according to the village's sorcerer. He would not miss the opportunity to make the most of it.
When the princess arrived in the backyard of his home, her heart melted at how beautiful the boy had arranged the place. It was so simple but it felt like home. A blanket had been laid next to his family's tree and, on top, he had placed the food along with the best beverage he was capable of buying.
The night was perfect. The princess had fallen in love with this place, never wanting to leave. Especially not when she had just realized how fond she had grown of her new friend. Dare to say, she was smitten. As they were watching the last seconds of the eclipse, the boy gathered all of his courage and pulled the princess closer to him. With the shadow over them, they shared their very first kiss.
What they did not know was how this would also be their last. Slowly, the girl's figure began to fade away, vanishing into thin air. The panic on the boy's face was one she had never seen before, one of great pain. She was devasted, so was he. She then understood this was her time to come home. As she forced a smile through her tears, she mumbled the only phrase she had meant to tell him all along.
You shut the book closed, not wanting to read the rest. "Really? A stupid little story is the answer to my problem?"
Jisung almost shivered from how cold your tone was. He had never meant for you to think he wasn't taking you seriously, of course he was. In a way, he did understand why it seemed idiotic of him to show you this. But he knew this was your last hope. Everything you'd tried so far was a great failure. And since the moment you told him how homesick you were at the party, he now wanted nothing more but to make you happy. Even if it meant losing you.
"She was reading a book, you were watching a movie. She tripped, you tripped. She found a boy, you found me," he went on to explain. "And, if I'm not wrong, you fell in love with me like she did."
Your breath cut short. Was it so obvious? You did everything in your power to not let it show, even more to not let it happen. Apparently, love did not work like this and couldn't be helped. This whole thing was shitty, falling in love with someone you could never be with.
"You're wrong," you mumbled. "I care about you a lot, but I wouldn't call this love," you lied — apart when you said you cared about him.
He huffed. "What would you call what happened the other night, then? Because, for me, it looked a lot like it was a confession of your feelings. Unless you'd been leading me on."
It was your turn to huff. "You think I would stoop so low as to do something like this to you?"
"If it isn't because you love me, I don't know what it is."
Unexpectedly, heavy footsteps came your way, You both turned around to see Minho walking to you, red in his eyes. You glared at Jisung since you thought Minho wasn't supposed to be here in the first place.
"If you're to argue about your little love life, can you do it outside? I can hear you from the entrance."
"I thought you weren't working today," Jisung said with a frown, ignoring what his friend had complained about.
"I don't work tomorrow, I'm taking over for the evening today."
Shit, Jisung didn't look at the work sheet properly. Despite your dark eyes still on him, he grabbed your wrist and led you outside, apologizing quickly to Minho as you walked past him. You tried to break away but he was stronger than you were, leaving you no choice but to follow him. He ignored the beeping sound caused by the book you were still holding as you hadn't officially rented it. Once out of the library, he did not stop there. Instead, he continued to walk away leaving you as clueless as ever.
Finally, you began to piece things together when you saw where he was heading to. It didn't take you more than a minute or so to reach the football field, exactly where you had started bonding only two months ago.
"Okay, can you explain to me now?" he sighed, crossing his arms on his chest.
You massaged your wrist. "First off, ouch." He only rolled his eyes which kind of hurt you somehow. "Second off, there is nothing to explain."
"Almost sleeping together after you told me you like me isn't nothing," he persisted.
"Why does it matter?" you groaned, getting annoyed. "I'm to go back to my world, it wouldn't change anything."
"For me, it would."
"Why?"
He grunted in frustration before grabbing you by the shoulders, visibly not in control of his actions anymore. "Because I love you."
You stared at him in silence, mouth agape. You couldn't comprehend fully what he said. He couldn't possibly love you. And if he really did, this entire thing had taken a whole new turn you weren't sure you could handle.
"What?" you whispered, not finding the strength in you to speak loud enough.
"I love you," he repeated, loosening his grip on you. "I've never been the best in terms of opening up and all. But with you? This has never been so easy. There is something about you, a spark. It feels homey and safe. I find extreme comfort and reassurance just by your presence. Not only that, you understand me on so many levels, I wonder if you know me better than myself at times.
"And at the party... Fuck, Y/N, it was like you got me under a spell. I always needed to have an eye on you or I thought of suffocating. Then, when we were in my room, it broke my heart when you began saying you were afraid to never be able to leave."
You almost wanted to thank him for not referring again to the physical part of the whole thing, how you had almost given yourself to him. Despite that, this whole-hearted confession of his was no longer only about mere feelings he had. He actually loved you.
"I'm sorry," you mustered the energy to say.
What were you apologizing for? Even you didn't know. For letting him love you this much, probably. You were dying to tell him you felt the same but in no way was this how things were supposed to be. Loving each other was only going to cause you great pain.
"Tell me you felt something too, please," he pleaded, eyes watery.
You could feel the lump in your throat grow when you shook your head, refusing to tell him what he wanted to hear. That was what made him let go of you as he took a few steps back. You hurt him.
"I'm sorry for reading into things that weren't there," he pettily scoffed. "Read the rest," he motioned the book. "There's an eclipse this Saturday just so you know. Find a way to get back, but don't count on me helping you in this madness anymore."
He turned on his heels and walked off in a hurry pace, obviously wanting to get as far from you as possible. You wanted to call him out, cry, scream, anything. But nothing. Your body was limp and wasn't letting you express what you were feeling. Instead, you dropped on the bench next to you with the book on your thighs.
You opened it back to read the end. Just like you had anticipated, this was only heartbreaking to come to the conclusion neither characters saw each other again. This was what you wanted to avoid, live with an void in your heart because you fell in love with the protagonist.
You did everything to prevent it. But you failed.
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Saturday was dangerously coming fast and your stubborn self was refusing to reach out to Jisung. He told you to find a solution on your own, that was what you had been doing. Nevertheless, the only remaining option was him. He had to be there.
You ended up telling the truth to Mina the night after your argument. It was inevitable, your emotionless stare outed you right away the moment she saw you. You couldn't hide it from her anymore. She took it better than you thought. Not only that, you also told her about the whole movie thing. She had been nothing but supportive, not even a bit bothered that she was fictional.
"Fictional or not, what I feel is real and that's what matters," she had answered when you asked why she remained this calm.
She was a bit of a replacement for Jisung, she was fully aware of that. But when it came to trying to get you home, she insisted the fairy tale wasn't just an odd coincidence. And that was why you were staring at your phone with nothing but fear.
"If you don't tell him to meet you at the park tonight, I will," Mina threatened, growing impatient as it had been almost ten minutes since you agreed to invite Jisung.
"He'll think I'm just using him to get home," you argued.
"I guess you are, but he won't care about that. If he loves you, it'll be stronger than his free will to come to your help."
You bit on your lip and finally picked the phone up. Opening your chat with Jisung, your fingers lingered above the keyboard. You knew what to say. The issue was how were you going to word it. After one last glance at Mina, you took a deep breath and began to type.
Y/N: Hey. How have you been?
No, this sounded too weird. It was obvious he hadn't been well, it'd be stupid to start the message like this.
Y/N: Hey! I know I haven't been exactly the greatest friend to you. You are right, I keep leading you on when I fully know that what we have can't even happen. It doesn't change the fact that I never wanted to hurt you intentionally and I am so sorry for the trouble I've caused. If you are still willing to forgive me, and maybe help me, meet me at 4 at the park where we met. There are many things I still need to tell you. I hope to see you there.
Sent. And now all you had left to do was wait. Mina hugged you tight as soon as you let go of the phone. You could tell she was proud, it felt nice to know she cared this much for you.
"If he does show up, does it mean I won't see you again?" Mina asked while still hugging you.
"Most likely, yes," you breathed out. "You'll have your Y/N back."
She chuckled. "She's not like you. Sure, I miss her, but it would have been better if having the two of you was an option."
It was your turn to laugh and you pulled away from the hug. "I promise I won't tell a soul about this," she affirmed.
You smiled gratefully. "Do you mind doing me one last favour?"
"Anything," she didn't hesitate to respond.
"One last makeover?"
The grin was all the answer you needed. You spend the afternoon doing some self-care activities while exchanging and laughing. She asked you some more about your own world and you answered. You hated to admit so but you were going to miss her. You never had one close friend in particular, it was always people scattered a bit everywhere without being so close to them. It was probably a sign you needed to bond more with your own friends.
That was if Jisung showed up. There was no telling when the next eclipse would happen so the option of staying here for much longer stayed in your mind vividly.
4 o'clock was approaching and Mina was still debating whether you should go for a dress or a jumpsuit. You let her have her fun when you heard the notification sound coming from your phone. You immediately rushed to see if Jisung had replied but you were left disappointed when you saw it was only a promotional text from some random company. Your message, however, had been read. But no reply.
Mina said nothing from seeing your sad face, but she came to show you the dress she chose. You were still amazed at how she always found the perfect combination for an outfit.
"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered but you shook your head.
"I'll be fine, but thank you."
She let you get changed and once you did so, the two of you sat in silence in your shared dining room. You were intensely staring at the clock and it was killing you how time seemed to pass by so slowly. Eventually, ten minutes before 4 o'clock came and it was time to head out.
Mina couldn't help herself but cry as she hugged you close to her. "Don't forget me, yeah?"
"I could never," you reassured. "And don't forget, the other Y/N is still me in a way. You haven't lost me completely."
She sniffled as she let go of your body. "Good luck with your man."
You gave her one last warm smile and you walked out the door. You sighed heavily as you walked down the stairs. This was already a day full of emotions, you weren't sure if you were ready for what would happen next. Either you'd be heartbroken Jisung didn't come or you'd have to leave him forever after finally telling him how you truly felt.
The walk to the park was quick and you were about a minute early. You walked to one of the swings and sat there, slowly swinging your body back and forth. You were glad the weather wasn't too cold since the dress wasn't exactly the warmest thing you could have worn.
Minutes passed, maybe even an hour. There was still no sign of Jisung. You began to think it was a bad idea to ask him to meet where his mother had died but you assumed it being the spot where you appeared would be an important factor to get back to your world. Perhaps he simply didn't want to see you again. You did hurt him a lot, it would be understandable.
You weren't counting the minutes anymore when you concluded he wouldn't come. Jumping onto your feet, you were on the verge of walking back to Mina but you stopped on your tracks stiffly.
He was there.
You couldn't quite believe what you were seeing. With only a lamppost nearby to illuminate your surroundings, his face was glowing. There was obvious resentment in his face but you could tell he was not as pissed as the last time you'd seen him. He gradually approached you while you remained hard as stone, unable to move. It was a miracle you were even breathing, in all honesty.
"I guess I still help you in the end," he began, avoiding your gaze.
"I thought you wouldn't come," you said with relief and he sadly laughed.
"You could call this a payback from when you arrived an hour late."
You felt even more relieved he was feeling comfortable enough to still joke a bit. However, you couldn't take his presence for granted. There must have been a reason for him to show up despite the hurt you'd done.
"Can I sit with you?" he gestured towards the swings and you nodded.
"I don't know where to start," you nervously chuckled. "I guess I can start with apologizing."
"That'd be a good start."
You cleared your throat, feeling a tad uneasy with how bizarre the tension was. "I'm sorry for not being truthful. I wasn't honest with a lot of things, including my feelings for you."
He frowned as it clearly quirked his attention. "What didn't you tell me?"
Even if his voice was shaky, it still held so much softness, as to not put pressure on you. If this was his goal, it worked. There was no turning back now.
"I don't have the proper words to put it out easily but I'll try my best. Remember how I've told you I was watching TV when the shift happened?"
His breath hitched. "What about it?"
"It might have been a film about you."
He didn't panic or get mad. In fact, it was quite opposite. He looked relieved and happy. You searched in his face any sign of anger but there was none, which left you more confused.
"Jisung?"
He let out a breathy laugh. "I kind of figured it out, I was just wondering if I was going crazy with this theory or not."
"What- Since when?"
"I'm not sure. It's like I've always known. Same as when you told me you were from another dimension, it just made sense for some reason."
You huffed. "How come are you so chill with it?"
He looked at you as if you had asked the dumbest question. "I might be fictional where you are but, here, I'm pretty fucking real. If I'm not, then I can't explain how I have all of these complicated thoughts and emotions when it comes to you."
You could feel yourself swoon at his words. "I don't want to leave suddenly," you confessed but he shook his head.
He stood up and stopped in front of you to take yours hands and get you up as well. Face to face, you could feel him exhale on your forehead. It felt nice to have his body close to yours again, like you had longed for it without knowing.
"You know you have to go."
You finally looked up at him. "No, I can stay. I get along just fine with Mina and the amnesia lie seems to be convincing everyone."
"Y/N, you already struggled with lying to me. How can you handle putting a façade up for the rest of your life?"
You wanted to scream at him, tell him how wrong he was. Accuse him of how low he thought of you by saying this. The truth was he was right. You knew deep down your place was not here. But just one thing was stopping you.
"But I love you," you mumbled as tears began to fall on your cheeks.
Jisung was surprisingly very sereine and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "There, you said it," he grinned victoriously.
You shoved him slightly. "Shut up."
He laughed again and damn was he pretty when he laughed. "That's all I wanted to hear, that you loved me too."
"If you love me, why should you let me go?"
He sighed as he rubbed your cheeks gently. He wasn't going to answer, you both knew it wasn't necessary. Nonetheless, it didn't mean it didn't hurt at all. It stabbed you like a knife. You had gotten so used to being around him. How were you going to deal in a world where he didn't exist?
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered even if his mouth had already had the time to get closer to yours.
It was all you needed to kiss him yourself, standing on your tippy toes to reach his level. It was just like you remembered it; sweet, tender, passionate. It was so addicting, you didn't want to imagine how breaking it would feel like. His hands let go of you to move on your hips before he pulled you even closer.
He didn't want to let go either.
You didn't notice he was crying as well until you reached your hand up to cup his cheek. It pained you more and more, and how you still were kissing him despite getting out of breath was a proof of it.
You both pull away eventually, even if it was clear as day both of you didn't want to. Jisung kept his forehead against yours and, without speaking a word, his gaze dove in yours. He wanted to remember your eyes, get one last good look at it. Because he knew what was already occurring right before his eyes.
"I'm leaving already, aren't I?" you cried out, as if you had read his mind.
"There's an eclipse, and I kissed you."
You nodded slowly and scanned your body. "It's a strange feeling."
He watched you slowly fading away and his heart clenched. "Think of me, please," he almost begged.
"Always," you smiled weakly. "I love you."
"I lo-"
And then nothing.
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A loud music woke you up. Your eyes shot wide open as you gasped for air. Taking a look around you, you stood from the ground. Everything was exactly where it had been. The first thing you went to look for was your sweet rabbit. Her nose peeking from under the couch, she wasn't hard to miss.
"Hey, baby," you cooed as you picked her up. "For you, it's been a second, but I haven't seen your cute face in months!"
You carefully placed her back in her playpen. Once she was safe and sound, you finally allowed yourself to look at the screen. It was Jisung, having a blast at Soohee's party. You forced yourself to smile as you watched him hold tight onto a girl. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't finish this movie. Not any time soon, at least. Grabbing your remote, your turned the screen off and crashed on your couch.
It had been a while since you felt yourself relax. Still, the headache you had made you question if what you had experienced was a dream or not. You did wake up because of the music coming from the television. That meant it was very possible this was only a dream.
Either way, it was over now. You had gone back to your life and now you needed to call your workplace to inform them you would be coming in tomorrow in the end.
And tomorrow came as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary; work, eating, more work, and then back home again. It felt rather underwhelming after your journey with Jisung. Somehow, you couldn't get him out of your head, not even for a second to work correctly.
You were very much distracted. Too distracted. Frustrated, you let go of the soup you were slurping and walked to your room. Sitting down at your desk, you opened your laptop and began to look up Jisung's name. You hadn't even noted down the title of the movie, his name alone should do the job.
The moment you clicked on "enter", articles and websites flooded like a river. All of them about Han Jisung. It was him for real, with his actual name next to tons of pictures. So he wasn't fictional after all. Then, who the hell was he?
You scrolled down to find a recent article which mentioned the movie itself. Opening the link, you read it all so quickly. It said Jisung was, indeed, a young artist who had the chance to collaborate with many renowned producers to make a film about his struggles. His main purpose was to reach an audience who could relate to his pain and learn to get through struggles like he did.
You weren't sure what this was referring to since you technically didn't watch the film entirely. What caught your attention, however, was the final paragraph.
The singer has begun his promotion tour where he holds conferences concerning mental health in younger generations. He hopes to spread awareness as much as he can. To see him, his next seminar is to be held in Seoul the Thursday of next week.
You checked the date this article was published and thanked the universe that it was no older than a week. That meant the conference was tonight. You didn't know if it was a good idea but you still had so many questions about everything, you felt like getting the chance to speak to him might answer a few of them.
"Looks like I'll be spending $40 tonight," you groaned to yourself before opening the sign-up page to the event.
You were lucky it wasn't starting too early and that you still had two hours before it began. It was enough time for you to wash up, get changed and hop onto a bus that transported you all the way to the other side of the city.
One would call you crazy for going all the way in for this boy who probably had no idea you existed. But the memory of him was too fresh, it bothered you. You thought it'd help you to see him in person. That was not exactly how it went.
As the crowd settled comfortably on their seats, the host greeted the audience warmly. Needless to say, you were taken aback to see the man you grew to know as Chan on stage. This was surely the actor who played him.
"Hello, everyone," he waved with a bright smile. "My name is Bang Chan and I will be your presenter tonight."
Okay, this was getting weirder and weirder. First Jisung was a real person, but Chan as well?
"As you may know, I have contributed with the production of the movie Alien: I'm so lonely. The mastermind behind this work is my dear friend, Han Jisung. But you knew that, that's why you're here. I ask of you to be patient as him and I will discuss his journey on this project. Afterwards, you may ask your questions and Jisung with happily answer them. Please, welcome Han Jisung!"
The crowd applauded as he came on stage. He looked tinier and intimidated on this big stage in front of so many people. You were starting to question yourself if this was the same man you had in mind. But as soon as he flashed his smile, your heart skipped a beat. This was him. And visibly, these feelings were as strong as they were back in the movie's world.
"I'd like to think you all came here after enjoying my movie so I'd like to start with thanking you all for your support. It means a lot," he smiled before bowing.
The two men sat down and Chan was the one to initiate the discussion. "I had the pleasure to be part of your project but there are things that are still a mystery. The entire film is based on your own experience whether it is the loss of your mother, your struggle to make a name for yourself in the music industry as well as the mental struggles you had to face. However, there is one aspect that was never part of your actual life and it is the character of Y/N."
Your body stiffened. Had you heard him right? This had to be yet another disturbing coincidence, it wouldn't be logical otherwise. The real Jisung didn't know you.
"We're getting right away into your favourite part today, aren't we?" he chuckled uncomfortably. "I had a dream long ago. It consisted of my usual day-to-day life but this girl appeared out of nowhere. We went through everything together the way we did in the movie. It was only a dream but I woke up feeling empty. She wasn't real but she was present for me more than anyone."
"Are you saying you felt more connected to an imaginary friend than to your close ones?"
"Of course not," he scoffed. "I came around the idea she was a fragment of myself that represented my strength. I'd like to think she really existed, but I can't drive myself crazy over that."
The rest of their discussion was nothing but a distant sound to you. Plenty of possibilities about what occurred were now open and, quite frankly, it was giving you a headache. You had never met Jisung in this world, but maybe his other self was still a part of him. That, or you visited his dream and not the movie.
The two men discussed some more details for another hour. After what felt like an eternity, the question period finally arrived. You had forgotten all pre-prepared interrogations you had by then. Despite that, you were determined to, at least, speak to him once. Nervously, you raised your hand while he was already responding to someone.
"So yeah, I'd say my mother was the main reason why I wanted to make this film," he concluded his answer with a nod.
Chan looked among the audience and it was almost like he recognized you. With a knowing grin, he pointed at you. "Miss with the red shirt."
The crew member walked to you to give you a microphone and it abruptly hit you how unprepared you were for this. You gulped as you shakingly brought the mic closer to your mouth.
"I had a question concerning this Y/N character."
Jisung, on his side, looked a mess the instant he heard your voice. He went closer to your side of the stage while squinting in order to take a better look at who was talking. He would recognize that voice anywhere.
"Go ahead," he finally said.
"When you said she appeared out of nowhere in your dream, what did you mean by that?"
And once and for all, he got a good glimpse of you. The actress who played you looked nothing like you. She was no match compared with your soft features. That was why she was the only character he struggled to cast — besides the fact half of the cast was his actual friends playing themselves.
"I-" he pondered for a moment. "You know what? Can you come see me after the conference? I feel like this is not something I can answer in the span of two minutes."
Surprised, you didn't let it show and nodded as you sat back down. What were the odds for him to want to talk to you one on one? Like he had requested to, you remained seated when Chan dismissed the audience.
It wasn't long after that a security member came to fetch you. He guided you all the way to a room backstage. Only from afar, you saw Jisung talk with Chan. He looked disturbed and worried. You started to think it wasn't a good timing to interrupt him. However, before you could have a say in it, the security guy pushed you inside and closed the door.
You looked at anywhere but them, rocking your body back and forth to hide the nervousness. There was a long silence before Chan sighed in a discouraged way. Without saying a thing, he walked past you and left the room.
It was only you and him.
"Is your name Y/N by any chance?" Jisung broke the ice making you look at him. His eyes were filled with hope.
"It is," you confirmed and his body immediately relaxed.
"I don't want to sound too creepy or whatever but..." he hesitated a little as he bit his upper lip. "I feel like I've seen you before."
Your breath cut short. He remembered.
"I might have a similar feeling towards you."
This made his unsure expression break into a smile, which then made you smile. It was like meeting a friend you hadn't seen in years, except you saw this same guy only hours ago. Heck, you were kissing him.
"Do you have time to go out for dinner with me?"
His question might have made you happier than you were supposed to be but you didn't care one bit, and it didn't look like he did either. After you shyly nodded a yes, he walked your way and drowned you in a hug. You didn't fight back.
"I think I forgot to tell you something," he mumbled softly against your ear.
"What is it?" you responded in the same tone.
"You left before I could finish; I love you."
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loving-family-poll · 9 months
Text
Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2
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Propaganda under the cut:
Liam/Noel:
The incest rumours used to be common for good reason <3
those two have kissed and groped each other too many times
They are really weird about each other, they have kissed a few times, made incest jokes many times, wrote songs about each other (I could be your lover/you could be all mine) and had a break up so messy they haven't been on speaking terms for +10 years
The song that goes like "I'm your brother/ you're my lover" there are many such cases
"Liam's gotten all religious. It's quite disturbing. He thinks he's Abel for some weird reason. He wrote a new song called "Guess God Thinks I'm Abel." And I thought, "Right, so you think you're Abel. That must make me Cain. Doesn't Cain kill Abel?" But then the first line of that song is "You could be my lover." I'm not too sure about that. That's illegal, innit? It's kind of illegal for two brothers to make love. It's certainly frowned upon."
Sam/Dean:
I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!
dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it
Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.
Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story
THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world
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carolmunson · 1 year
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caught like a fool without a line. (older!modern!eddie)
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part five of who knows how many. orange colored sky setlist.
summary: we've been seeing eddie for a month and the fear starts to settle in. with eddie's past and present making things difficult and your own insecurities brewing, things come to a bit of a head one night when you're out at a bar. featuring older!robin and our favorite guy older!steve from @loveshotzz series 'all i really want is you'.
tw: age gappy (reader and eddie are 12 years apart, but reader is late late 20s/early 30s and eddie and late late 30s/early 40s throughout this story so it's not like so bad). drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, discussions of eddie's promiscuous past (i know some people don't like when eddie is a slut), implied that reader wears eddie's clothes to bed but not that reader is small. gifs by: @keerysbrandnewbg and @eddiemunsonsource
songspiration: open | rhye and feelings | lauv
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You swirled the big ice cube in the tumbler with an unenthusiastic flair, making the orangey red liquid in the glass nearly spill. “And I don’t get it, we had a really nice first date and then made out again the next week and talked all the time and now he’s barely texting me back,” you complain, the tart grapefruit of your friend’s new take on an Aperol Spritz floods your mouth at your next sip.
“Maybe he’s just busy,” your friend Charlie suggests from behind the bar, “He’s older, you said, right? He might just not be on his phone as much. Do you like the drink? Is it too bitter?” 
“It’s bitter but not in a bad way, in a good citrussy way,” you nod, “And yeah he might not be on his phone as much but then why just sort of suddenly drop off and barely respond? Like, look at this.” You take out your phone, laying it on the bar and scrolling through a plethora of blue texts with some sprinkles of gray in between, “I look so pathetic.” “I think you just really like him,” she shrugs, smirking, “And I think that’s good, you haven’t been this excited about someone for a little bit.” “Yeah, but every time I’m excited about someone it bites me in the ass,” you lean on the palm of your hand, flipping your phone over, “Plus like, I’m not trying to be with anyone like that right now.” 
Your friend gives you a look, “Okay, sure.” 
“What do you mean ‘okay, sure’?” you scoff. 
“You’re not trying to be with anyone like your ex,” Charlie corrects, her dark red lips pulling into a smirk, “You go on and on about how you just want someone to take care of things for you. Maybe he’s that kind of dude.” 
“He has someone come every Sunday to clean his house for him,” you sip the drink again, “I don’t think he can take care of anything for me, considering I can clean my own house.”  The bar slowly starts to fill up with the after work crowd, leaving Charlie to run back and forth between you and pouring beers for incoming patrons.
“He can afford to have someone come and clean his house,” she says with a smirk, holding down the tap while she fills a glass with Lagunitas, "That's kind of hot." You flip your phone back over and sigh, no new messages.
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If anything is true in the music and art world Eddie is involved in it's that Eddie Munson is a professional loverboy. Never with someone for too long, never long enough for them to want something more than fun -- never long enough for 'Are you my boyfriend?' never long enough for 'What are we?' It got easier the older he got, the less women and men cared about labels. You were right to make that judgement about his key carabiner hanging on the front of his keys. Eddie Munson is a slut, and everyone knows it but you.
He had two actual girlfriends in his early twenties, but nothing quite like his friendship with Steve. 'Platonic life partner, sometimes,' they'd list it as -- never too afraid to get affectionate. Hugs, kisses on the forehead, Eddie held him so many nights when Emma died he felt like they left an indent in the center of the bed. He touched and loved the people who loved him back, but to anyone else – he never wanted to get too close. He always gave out just enough of him – enough for people to keep wanting more, a satisfaction he basked in now since he was such a loner in high school with no notches to his belt. 
But now he’s blabbering on to Robin over a huge plate of nachos about how you texted him all day. You texted him all day and he had his phone charging in the kitchen while he was upstairs in his office so he didn’t know and now it’s very clear that you’re upset. 
"Okay? How is this different from the girl you were seeing over Christmas?" Robin laughs over a mouthful of loaded nachos, a frosty pink Frosé next to her to beat the heat. Her eyes crinkle closed, a smattering of freckles stretching on the apples of her cheeks when she smiles. The heat of a sunburn runs soft pink over her nose, outside of the gray in her sand blonde hair that she'll never dye, she looks almost the same as she did in high school. “So you didn’t text her back,” she shrugs, “You leave her alone, she fades off into the distance – just like the girl before that, and the guy before that, and the girl before that. Why're you talking about it like it's the end of the world?”  "I care," he groans, turning his phone to show Robin your messages. You'd sent them every few hours, but most of the messages from the morning and afternoon were from when he was working -- phone nestled on the charger down in the kitchen while he clacked away on code upstairs. By the time he saw them he was embarrassed, and you were probably already at your friend's bar. Eddie tries to explain the whole situation while Robin scrolls through with a careful and soft expression, a tiny smile forming on her face. 
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“I already fucked it up,” Eddie sighs, pulling his hair up into a ponytail with volume hair stylists would envy. He runs his hand over his jaw, following the edge of it to land behind his neck where he squeeze gently on the muscle.
Robin shrugs again, passing his phone back to him, “Par for the course, kid.” 
His eyes narrow, “I’m older than you.” 
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “You always fuck it up, Ed. That's your thing. You walk into a room and someone leaves crying. You've never done the whole sappy love thing with someone, why do you think you're changing your tune now?”
“I know but – fuck Robin, I didn’t even sleep with her yet,” he says a little louder than he intends. His tattooed hand wraps around the Pilsner glass in front of him, dripping in condensation, bringing it to his lips.
“That’s a new development,” she raises her brows, crossing her legs, "You never wait this long."
“I just…I don’t…I shit – I don’t know.” 
“What did Steve say?” Robin asks, teeth biting down on the straw to her drink, “He always has good girl advice.” 
“I haven’t even told Steve.” 
“At all?!” she nearly spits out the frose all over the nachos.
“Rob we just buried Em,” he explains softly, “Like, she’s not even fuckin’ cold yet. I can’t just come out of the woodwork five months later like ‘Hey man, think I actually met a girl I’d consider a future with. We’ve been seeing each other for a month’. And like – what if I’m just psyching myself out? What if this is just an early midlife crisis?” 
Robin takes a slow sip, nodding while he speaks before taking a pause. “Ed, I think you’ll feel better if you tell Steve,” she offers, “I think he’d get your head straight about it. But in the meantime, you should text her back.”
“What do I even say?” he huffs, shoving a loaded nacho into his mouth.  “Try honesty with a woman for once in your entire life, Rockstar boy,” Robin plasters on a customer service smile that makes him let out a frustrated ‘tsss’, “It won’t kill you.” "Here, I'll text Nance and ask her -- she's our next best bet," Robin takes out her phone and types with the fervor of a teenager with a sugar high. Eddie sips his beer, looking at the screen of his phone while the cursor to type blinks back at him.
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You stumble out of the bar, too crowded now to have fun with your friend. Over tired and over served you make your way down the street and around the corner, stopping to lean against the brick wall of a different bar when you feel your phone buzz in your hand. You take a minute, taking in your surroundings. People are so loud down here, and everyone is so pretty. Street lights are there and gone and there and gone as cars whiz passed on Delancey, the bustle of the Friday night life in the LES is a buzz with excitement. You're already a little down for the count. Your phone feels like a paper weight in your hand, sighing with satisfaction at the notificaiton on the screen. But your chest still aches with annoyance, how many times were you gonna get drunk at a bar with a swollen heart over some dumb boy? Man? Guy?
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You don't want him to come save you, you know how to get home. You can see the green bulbs of the train entrance and the glow of the McDonalds 'M' on the corner in the distance. Down the stairs, one train into Brooklyn, cross platform transfer -- you've done it drunker than this countless times before. You text Charlie with an air of victory before putting your phone back in your smart black faux leather bag slung over your shoulder. The warm summer air flows over your legs, catching the hem of your a-line skirt -- the light material flowing in the breeze. Time isn't working quite right for you but it feels like it's been five minutes and he hasn't shown up, so you make your way to the edge of the corner to cross.
"Whoa there, Peach," you hear Eddie's gruff voice from the side of you, the pull on your arm the same as when he steadied you at Trader Joe's a month ago, "Careful now."
You pull out of his hold, glassy eyes focused on the black and white stripes on the street ahead of you, "I know what I'm doin'."
“Where are you goin’, huh?” he asks softly. Eddie steps in front of you, guiding you to the light post to get out of the way of other pedestrians.
“Home,” you slur, “M’goin home. Trainssright there.” 
“I don’t think you’re good to take the train,” his voice is gentle, hand coming out to hold you at the waist, “I can get you a car.” 
“I’m fine.” It's the only sentence that comes out lucid, his jaw ticks.
"You don't look fine," he looks down into your glassy eyes, a look he's seen before. The way his mama would drown herself in whiskey and stumble into the kitchen so the bruises would't hurt so bad. The way an old fling would slur to him about how she can't live without him. The way you look so sad and it's his fault.
"I'm. Fine," you reiteratie. The light changes, the bright white of the walk sign flashes across the street. You go to pass him but his hands place themselves on your shoulders. "You really wanna get boiled alive on the train?" he asks with a smile, "You don't wanna take a car?" You sigh, why does he have to be so handsome? The gin from your last two drinks travels from your head to your thighs, pulling them together at the sight of his smile. He has that ratty vest on, a CBGC t-shirt sticking to him under it, the sleeves completely torn off. He smells like cedar and citrus again, a hint of a left over cigarette. His grays catch the light of the over head lamp, bouncing like tinsel in his pony tail sitting on the crown of his head. "Can we go to your house?" you ask, voice raised a higher octave than normal. His face blanches, "Aw honey, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to think that I --" "Please?"
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"Thanks, have a good night," Eddie waves off the delivery man with a smile as he rides away on his bike. With plastic in hand he makes his way back up the stairs where you've set up shop on one of the stools in his kitchen, head down on the island counter.
"Food's here," he says quietly. Dealing with drunk you was very much like dealing with drunk Robin in the early 2010s, overgrown toddler in a bad mood. You let out a half hearted 'Yay', head coming up, eyes half closed in the kind of sleepiness a few mixed drinks and some beers can send you into. He goes into the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Poland Spring and a beer for himself. The waters get placed in front of you while he tends to getting the food plated up.
You ignore the water -- Blue Moon bottle staring right at you, and to be honest -- a cold cirtussy beer sounds sooo good right now. You reach forward, the glass ice cold against your palm now that the liquor has fully settled, heating up your skin. The sound of glass on the counter cobbles through the kitchen when you slide it closer to you, alerting Eddie to the noise.
“Excuse me,” he says sharply, snatching the bottle out of your hand, “Can you behave?” 
You pout when his eyes narrow at you, heart thumping guiltily in your chest, shame brewing in your skin. You nod back at him with sad eyes, a twinge plucking in your heart strings.
“Don’t give me that face,” he warns, “Don't act up."
“I don’t like when you’re mean,” you mumble softly, running your fingers in shapes over the butcher's block counter top. He sighs, plating your sandwich and pulling your fries from the bag. He kisses your temple while he slides the plate in front of you. "I'm sorry, honey," he says quietly, but gin always puts you in the mood to argue. "You don't have to talk to me like, like -- you don't have to talk to me -hic!- like I'm a kid," you hurtle out, surprised at your own gumption, "I'm not."
"I know," he says, putting the bags into his recycling bin under the sink, "I'm not talking to you in any kind of way Peach I -- " "You don't even like me," you state. His head cocks to the side, leaning on his hands while they hold on to the edge of the island. "Who said that?" "I was -hic!- I was talking to someone at the bar about --" you start, lump building in your throat, "About you and um -- they said, they said it sounds like --" Your eyes water, "Like I'm just for fun." "Oh," he says, looking down at his hands. The weight of this conversation falling into his stomach from his chest like a deep pit.
"Like I'm just fun for you to play with -- but like, you don't even wanna have -- you don'even wanna h-have-have seggzwithme so like -- you don't even like me." More and more if your insecurities flow out of you like a broken faucet, tears starting to slip down your cheeks.
"And like you probably don't even think I'm pretty."
"Oh, baby, no," he coos, brows tilted in sympathy while you drunkenly let all your sober fears out, "I think you're so pretty."
"So pretty," you repeat, wiping your face with your hands, "But that's it."
Eddie takes a deep breath, coming over to you and pressing his warm soft lips to your cheek, "Let's talk about this in the morning, sweetheart. I'm gonna get upstairs ready for you."
"I should just go home," you sniffle, embarrassment starting to flow through you with your bloodstream, burning all your pores, "I'm sorry." "No, no, don't go home," he assures, nose nuzzling against your cheek, "Stay. Just stay."
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He makes sure you eat, watching you come back to yourself the fuller and more hydrated you get. You're easy to lead upstairs, pliant and tired now, needy almost -- not that you'd ever admit to it. You tease him about his 'old man pills' when he takes out his perscription high dose Motrin he got for some old back pain. Great for when you might get a killer hangover these days. You grimace at the Pedialyte mixture he has you drink before you get tucked into his bed -- out before you can even feel him grab the pillows and a throw from the other side of you. He settles in downstairs on the sectional, sighing while he thinks about the way your face scrunches when you're about to cry. He flicks through his Hulu options on the big screen in front of him but nothing really seems to catch his attention. Mind wandering to you asleep upstairs but knowing better than to crawl into bed next to you when you're not yourself enough to say it's okay. The familiar buzz of his phone goes off on the coffee table, when he picks it up his face is on the front screen while someone calls in on FaceTime. "You're callin' late, man," Eddie grins lazily, socked feet sticking out to rest on the worn walnut table in front of him, "You okay?" "Yeah me and Bandit just got in from camping. Got some pics of him to send you, he's such a scamp." "You have fun?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. Eddie's voice is quiet while he speaks making Steve's head cock to the side. The lights changes on his face while he walks from the living room to his bedroom. "Yeah we had a lot of fun," Steve starts, "Why're you whispering?" "What do you mean?" Eddie asks, getting up off the couch to pad back into the kitchen. "You're talkin' all quiet," Steve smirks, "You got a girl over or something?" Ed puts his phone down and huffs while he grabs a bag of chips from the cabinet. Steve giggle, leaning his head in closer to the screen. "You do, don't you?" he guffaws, "Am I interrupting?" "She's sleeping," Eddie says softly, picking up the phone again and leaning against the counter. "Aw, so you ended up texting her back? Good."
"What the fuck? Who told you that?" Eddie's brows furrow, spitting through a mouthful of chips. "Robin, obviously." The light changes on him again while he makes his way to his own kitchen. Bandit's little pants and huffs echoing into the phone, "You think Nancy came up with the 'Hey pretty girl,' opening? She's never been a flirt."
"Well it worked so, congrats."
"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Steve pulls his own bag of chips out. They crunch together. "It just didn't seem right," he shrugs, "Y'know with Emma it's hard to be like, 'Hey I think I might actually see a future with this girl I've only been seeing for a few weeks.' Like, you just lost the love of your life."
"I'm not gonna be sad to hear that you're into someone, Ed," Steve smiles softly, voice calm, "Tell me about her."
So he does, he tells Steve about how he kept running into you that day at Trader Joe's and how he felt so stupid for not waiting at the doors for you but he was too scared. You were so cute in your bike shorts and sneakers, so careful in how you chose the fruit you were gonna get. When he saw you on the platform he knew it was like he was getting a second chance -- "Maybe Em thought you should stop being such a whore and sent her over," Steve laughs. Ed rolls his eyes but can't hold back his chuckle, watching as Steve rests his chin on the heel of his hand while he listens. Eddie talks about the picnic date, how he immediately felt comfortable telling you about his mom. The rain, the kiss in his apartment -- how he could've fucked you but didn't. How all your little dates had gone since.
"Oh so you like her," Steve nods.
"I'm scared," Eddie says quietly. "Scared?"
"What if it's just a fluke and I hurt her? Or I get hurt?" Eddie asks, "And like -- please don't take this the wrong way but like -- what if I put in all this effort and then lose her?"
"Like how I lost Em?"
Eddie nods slowly, not wanting to say the quiet part out loud. He talks about what you said when you got back to his place, how you think he doesn't really like you, how he doesn't think you're pretty. You're just for fun. "But this doesn't feel like 'just for fun', does it?" Steve challenges gently, "Cause if she was just for fun you would've texted me about if she could deep throat or not."
Eddie chuckles darkly, pink rising on his cheeks -- Steve chuckles too. Still gross boys who are gross.
"You should tell her how you feel," he encourages, "What's the worst that can happen?" "Everything."
"Okay," Steve shrugs, "I lost everything. And what happened?"
"We all came to pick you up." "Exactly. We'll be here to pick you up, too. Don't like..." Steve sighs, "Don't just immediately throw something away just because you're not used to it. The more you stand there and think about what you want, the less she's gonna think you want it."
"I know..." "So let her know you want it."
They talk for an hour, both cozied up on their respective couches -- Bandit immediately getting in the frame and yelping at Eddie's face on the screen. The seize in Eddie's chest loosens because maybe this could be okay. Now he just has to make sure you know it.
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You wake up the next morning, groggy and dry -- but thankfully not nearly as hungover as you were expecting. Your joints hurt, your stomach's a little jumbled, but no headache and that's what matters the most. You shift in his crisp sheets, turning around to see that the bed is empty next to you -- pillows and throw blanket gone with him. You slept alone. You look at your phone on the bedside table next to a full bottle of water. You chug it while you check your notifications -- 6:11 AM. If anything was true, you always woke up too early when you drank too much the night before. The water sits heavy in your belly, pressing your bladder which was already screaming for you to go to the bathroom. With a sigh you stand up, and when you do, the embarrassment of the night before settles in. Your emotional hangover.
You pad to the bathroom and pee, seeing your face in the mirror like you did the night you got rained out. Your makeup is smeared, face a little bloated -- you do your best to wash it off. The cool water feels good against your skin, still hot from the liquor and dehydration. You pat your face dry and leave the bathroom, lingering at the top of the stairs where he's laying on the couch, already awake. "G'morning," you rasp out. He perks up, head tilting up to look at you from his place in the living room. "Morning, peach," he smiles, "You feelin' okay?"
You nod, ungracefully stomping down the metal steps of the spiral staircase while you get your footing, "Your old man pills must be magic or something."
Eddie pulls back the blanket, scooching back against the cushions to make room for you to lay down next to him, "C'mere, baby."
C'mere, baby runs down your spine, making your throat catch. You make your way towards the couch, crawling in next to him. The living room is quiet, with just some early morning sun pooling into the windows -- like you two are the only people awake on the street this morning. He covers you up, wasting no time wrapping himself around you and pulling you into him, "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah," you nod into his chest, the scent of his skin mixing with the faint smell of cirtus and cedar, "Did you?" "Normally I'm fine on the couch," he says, voice grizzly and sleepy, "But I didn't sleep a wink last night." "Oh, I'm sorry. I could've slept on the couch or I --" "No, it's not that," he shakes his head, catching your gaze, "Probably would've slept better if you were next to me." Your cheeks burn, a smile splittling across your face, "Well I'm here now."
"You are," he nods, leaning up to run his thumb over the apple of your cheek where a stray piece of glitter sits. Remnants of your makeup that you couldn't wash away.
"I'm um...sorry for how I acted last night," you confess, "That's not like -- that's not how I am."
"Don't be sorry," he assures quietly, "I understand." You're both quiet for a moment, the hum of the central air fuzzing the silence between you. "You're not just for fun, peach," he says, a seriousness to his normally playful voice, "I'm sorry I made you feel like that." "I um -- I'm sorry I kind of went a little insane," you shrug, feeling small, "I didn't mean to text all those times and then come here and cry and like --" "Stop apologizing," he says, thumb grazing your lower lip to stop you, "You were just feeling a way, that's okay. I get it." He takes his thumb away, leaning down to give you a kiss that sends you reeling. Warm and soft, delicate. His hands lead his arms around you again, smiling when you reach up to cup his cheek. "I like you," Eddie smirks against your mouth. "I like you, too," you smile when he breaks away. "The deli's open on the corner if you want me to run over and get a bacon, egg, and cheese," he offers quietly. "Why do I feel like you were gonna do that anyway?" you ask in the same tone. "I was," he grins again, "I just wanted to impress you by asking." He sits up, clamboring over you to get some coffee started so it'll be done by the time he gets back. You wait patiently for him, rolling your eyes while he shoves his socked feet in his slides, leaving the house in his pajamas of a t-shirt and black joggers. You prepare the coffees, feeling domestic like you live here -- getting used to where things are already.
He comes back twenty minutes later, sighing when the air conditioning hits him as the door opens, "It's already like, 80 degrees."
"Gross," you reply, face scrunching in the way that he likes, "Coffee is ready." "Oh, thank you." His eyes glitter at the gesture, seeing that you used the same mugs from when he had you over the first time. Those are his favorites, but you'll learn that eventually. The sandwhiches are tossed on the butcher block counter where you cried last night, but your embarrassment melts away when you feel him wrap himself around you again -- like he can't get enough. "I'm playing a show on Thursday at House of Yes," he says, "They're doing a metal theme'd night." "Yeah?" you ask, hands reaching for the plastic baggy and taking out both of your sadwhiches wrapped in foil. His arms still tight around your middle while you maneuver around your kitchen. "You should come," he asks, kissing the top of your head, "I'll get you a ticket."
"I don't know if that's really my scene," you shrug, twisting in his hold to face him, "I'm not like -- I'm not cool and underground like that." "So?" he quirks his brow, "You can be cool and underground for one night to hang out with your hottie rockstar boy-toy."
"That's so gross that you described yourself that way," you laugh, pushing out of his hug and opening your sandwhich, "Like, so cringey, babe." "Babe," he repeats back to you, "I like that. You can call me 'babe' whenever you want." "Duly noted," you agree, teeth sinking into the bread of the roll and breaking into the warm and gooey center. The jumble in your stomach starting to fade away while the grease of the egg soothes it. Eddie takes his sandwhich and coffee to the living room, taking his phone off the coffee table to open up his text conversation with Steve:
she called me babe.
i literally can't even breathe right now.
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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year
Text
i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike
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Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.
Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader
Word Count | 4.4K
Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.
Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.
Divider by @saradika
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 
It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 
Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 
You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 
“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 
“No, why?” 
“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 
And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 
“They’re delicious.” 
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 
“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 
“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 
You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 
“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 
You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 
“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”
He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 
“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 
“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 
“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 
You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 
“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 
You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 
He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 
You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.
“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 
He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 
And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 
You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 
“Running away?” 
You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 
“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 
He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 
“If I have to.” You answer back. 
“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 
You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 
You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 
He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 
“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 
He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 
You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 
“You looking that sinful.” 
You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 
He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 
He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 
“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 
You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 
He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 
“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 
“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 
You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 
“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 
So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 
You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 
“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 
You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 
He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 
“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 
He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 
This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 
You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 
He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 
You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 
You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 
Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 
“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 
“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 
“Your mouth.” 
“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 
“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 
He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 
He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 
“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 
“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 
He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 
Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 
He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 
“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 
“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 
He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 
Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 
When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 
“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 
“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 
He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 
“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 
You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 
“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 
And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 
“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 
“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 
You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 
“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 
“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 
You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 
It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 
You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 
He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 
He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 
“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 
He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 
You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 
472 notes · View notes
deathbyyoongx · 1 year
Text
stuck with you; part 1 — myg
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╭ parts: 1, ...
╭ word count: 5.2k
╭ summary: After your best friend Hoseok told you you could stay at his place for two weeks, you couldn’t help but be more than thrilled. A studio in the middle of the city, away from home, and close to every club you loved to go to? It couldn't get much better than that. However, when you heard the news his roommate's plans got canceled, you soon realized you had to spend those two weeks together with none other than Min Yoongi. It wouldn’t have bothered you if you had to spend two weeks together with a hot guy, but unfortunately for you, you already knew Yoongi from high school. 
And he absolutely despises your guts ever since.
╭ pairing: yoongi x brat!reader
╭ genre: smut, just smut, okay maybe a bit off fluff, can't help it
╭ warnings: enemies to lovers, angry/stubborn yoongi, y/n is an aboslute brat but that's the usual in my fanfics, ex-friends from high school, he hates you but you don't really know why, back and forth bickering, drinking, hair pulling, name-calling, hate sex (?), spitting, hickeys, slapping, voyeurism, being stuck with a hot guy that secretly would love to fuck you for two weeks, ...
╭ author's note: I had to put some fluff into it, I couldn't help it. It's the hopeless romantic in me. Also haven't reread it (24/08) I'm tired.
btw, use InteractiveFics for a better reading experience ;)
“Are you sure about this, Hobi? I mean, the man despises me.” Today was the day you would stay over at Hoseok’s shared studio apartment. It was only a few rooms away from a full-on apartment, which you were not complaining about. The plan was, that both Hoseok and his roommate Yoongi would be on vacation, which meant that you had this lovely space all for your own. But of course, fate had other things in store for you when you heard that Yoongi’s plans got canceled. His friend got a bad stomach ache after eating at some shady place downtown, pity. If this news had come to you a few years ago, you would be more than thrilled. Yoongi and you used to be good friends in high school, so the idea of spending two weeks with him wouldn’t be anything to worry about. But ever since college…things changed between the two of you.
“Look, I promised you could stay over and you’ve already adjusted your schedule to it as well, so he’ll just have to get used to it. And besides, it’s not permanent, I’ll be back in two weeks. He’s usually in his room anyways, so he won’t be bothered by you too much.” Hosoek explained, trying his best to reassure you about the sudden change of plans. “Plus, he agreed to it so-”
“Yeah, when he was still planning to go on vacation himself. But none of us expected his plans to be canceled because his friend ate a bad lobster.” You felt bad for the friend, but at least the doctors said it would be alright. But still, now you were in this sticky situation.
“Yeah, that's very unfortunate.” Hoseok said pitifully. “Plus, how bad could it be” That’s when you both heard the sound of keys unlocking the front door, which made you turn your heads at the same time. While Hoseok didn’t change anything in his behavior, you on the other side tried your best to stay cool and not to think too much about it. But god, did this make you nervous. Especially since it has been a while since you’ve seen Yoongi. The last time you saw him, he was rocking that bowl cut, which did look undeniably cute on him, but that was already five years ago. Where did the time go? Now you were both in your early to mid-twenties, so you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same boy from before. So when the front door finally swung open, you were captivated by Yoongi’s change of appearance over the years. Fuck. He was painfully beautiful. He grew his hair out, and the back of it even touched his shoulders. He traited his bowl cut for a middle part, and fuck, did it look good. And even though he was only wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, you noticed how broad his shoulders had become. Yoongi briefly looked up, and that’s when he finally noticed your presence. It was of short due because your eyes only met for a second before he looked back down. “Oh, good. I was just planning to leave-” Hoseok quickly spoke to defuse the obvious tension.
“Enjoy your holiday, Hoba.” Yoongi quickly said before locking himself in his room. 
“Very bad, alright.” Hoseok looked at you, almost apologetic that this was the situation you had landed in. “Make the best of it.” Was the last thing Hoseok said before hugging you goodbye. He grabbed his luggage and headed out of the door. You just chuckled to yourself. If this is how Yoongi wanted to be me, let him. You were going to enjoy yourself, whether he liked it or not. 
Day one went by faster than you expected. The best option for you was leaving that grumpy man alone for the first day, letting him slowly accept the situation on his own. You just went to the bar with your friends, enjoying the fact that everything was so near to you now. You still lived with your parents, but you were slowly earning enough money to move out. It was just a matter of time. That’s why Hoseok did you the favor to stay at his place while he’s on vacation. He only suggested it because he knew Yoongi would be away as well, not knowing that his plans were short-due. Besides the fact that out of all people you were staying at their place, it’s the fact his expensive vacation got canceled that made him extra annoyed. Leading to situations like you bumping into each other, saying ‘hi’ to Yoongi, and him completely ignoring your ass. Nice. But today was day two. Another day of playing another game of: will Yoongi finally speak one word to me, or will he act as if I don’t even exist? Let’s find out!
So there you were, sitting on the couch Tuesday morning, eating your honey cereal as you were watching one of your favorite shows. The sound of Yoongi’s door opening up made your ears perk up, making you turn your head to the right to look at his sleepy figure walking towards the kitchen. "Good morning." You greeted, but without any luck of getting a greeting back. You child. “Hope you slept well.” You turned your head back to the television as you listened to Yoongi grabbing something out of the fridge and heading back to his room. “Great talk.” You said in a sarcastic tone, mouth full as you heard his door slam shut again. You knew he was a stubborn little guy, but you weren’t planning on giving up. Maybe he still needed some more time to cope. Yes, that’s obviously the answer.
[10:18] y/n: Joonie
[10:18] y/n: Wanna go on a coffee date with me?
Namjoon was one of your best friends, who is conveniently enough also friends with Yoongi. You could always go to him for advice or just a good time. I bet he knows what to do with Yoongi, right? 
[10:21] Namjoon: of course
[10:21] Namjoon: I’ll pick you up around 12
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“I tell you Namjoon, he just fully ignores my ass whenever I’m there. It’s like I’m a ghost.” As soon as you two sat down in the little café down the street and ordered, you started venting your heart out about this whole ordeal. “I’m real right?!” You started poking his cheek, making him scrunch up his nose and telling you to stop. It made you giggle.
“I just think he needs some time…maybe. He really started disliking you ever since college, you know.” Whenever Namjoon talked, he sounded wise. Even though he wasn’t that much older than you, he managed to sound like he had years of experience. “I never really knew why though, you two seemed to be good friends before.”
You took a quick sip from your coffee and quickly regretted it since you burned your tongue. “I know right?! It’s super weird. Besides Yoongi, is Hoseok the only one who knows, but he doesn’t want to tell me.” You sighed out of defeat and a pout formed on your lips. “I don’t remember having a fight or saying something inappropriate to him, so I have no clue what the reason is.” You took a moment to think and recollect your memories, but there wasn’t one that could indicate the reason for Yoongi’s sudden hatred towards you. You graduated high school one year after Yoongi, you went to college, and all of a sudden he stopped replying to your texts and avoided you at all cost.
Namjoon softly smiled as he gently placed his hand on your arm. “I know he’s stubborn, but he can’t ignore you forever. You’ll get through him one way or another.” His words were warm and sincere, making you feel more at ease about the whole situation. “Besides, you’re stubborn too, so I know the only option is for him to talk to you eventually.”
His comment made you laugh, ‘cause you knew it was true. “We’ll see.” You sighed. “I just feel bad for him that he needs to live with someone that he heavily dislikes. I wanna make it up to him, you know? One way or another.”
Namjoon thought for a second, stirring his little silver spoon around his coffee cup. “Maybe Hoseok’s knows what to do? You can always text him, he won’t mind”
A hopeful smile appeared on your face. “You’re right, but enough about me! How have you been? I heard you started writing a new book, that’s exciting!” After college, Namjoon started writing books. His first one wasn’t as successful as he hoped to be, but he had not lost heart, and luckily for him his last release was a hit. It’s kind of impressive how fast he could come up with new ideas. He also had a very poetic way with words, so to you it was just a matter of time until he got recognized.
“It’s going okay. I have a bit of writer's block, but I’ll get through it. And coming out of the house is fortunately one of the key factors of breaking it.” He smiled, his dimples shining through. The sudden buzz of Namjoon’s phone caught the both of you off guard. He fished his phone out of his bag, letting out an annoyed sigh as he read the caller ID. “It’s Jungkook, this is gonna take a while, sorry.”
Of course. Jungkook, your mutual friend, was known to keep himself busy with things that he knew he shouldn’t. You were just wondering in what kind of trouble Jungkook got himself into this time. 
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Day two wasn’t as successful either, but you weren’t planning on giving up. Besides, Yoongi and you used to be friends. Weird, right? Yeah, sure, it was high school, but you didn’t expect him to change his demeanor towards you that much. Besides, what could you have done to make him hate you so much? That’s why day three, you decided to ask for some help. And hey, the third time’s a charm, right?
[17:41] y/n: hobi istg this man doesn’t budge
[17:42] Hoseok: It's that bad huh?
[17:42] Hoseok: Maybe ask him to drink with you? I’ve never seen him say no to alcohol
[17:43] y/n: bet
Now you had a plan and all you had to do was wait until he got home. You just had to ask him to have a drink and he will finally be nice to you, easy right? So tonight, you decided to stay home, trying to socialize with Mister Grumpy. You were patiently waiting for him to get home as you were watching TV again. It was already 22:05, so he would arrive any minute now. So hearing the magical sound of the keys turning in the keyhole made you as ready as ever. “Welcome home, you wanna-”
“I don’t know why you keep on trying, but if it wasn’t obvious yet, I’m not interested in talking to you.”
Excuse me?! “Excuse me?” If Yoongi’s first sentence wasn’t enough to make you offended, his cold tone only added to it. Yoongi however, just ignored you again. He took his shoes off, took something from the fridge, and just went to his room again. You just scoffed before you yelled “Look, it’s only for two weeks. Then you’ll have your precious Hobi back.” But the lack of response made you even angrier. “It’s also not my fault your plans got canceled, so no need to be so mean!” You just pouted in your seat, not sure what your next move could be, if you even had that. Should you just ignore the fact that Yoongi was ignoring you? Absolutely not, you still had 11 days left with that bastard. So when day three arrived, you decided on a different approach. 
“Yoongi, can you-“ And with that, he closed the door in your face. Nevermind. You thought if you were more direct, he would finally be less of a jerk, but alas, you were wrong again. The weather seemed to be in your favor, however. It had been raining cats and dogs ever since this morning, meaning you were stuck with one another whether he liked it or not. You planned to stay in the living room for the entire day, so whenever he needed to leave to get something, he had no other choice but to be in the same room as you. But Yoongi wasn’t naive, he knew what you were doing. So this morning he grabbed enough resources to keep himself fueled for the day. The bastard.
But there it was, a sign from above.
It was already close to midnight when all of a sudden you heard a certain man curse every curse word you could imagine in the comfort of his own room. Not only that, but the living room light suddenly shut off, leaving you alone in the darkness with the only light source being the one from your phone screen. But before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Mister Grumpy had finally left his room. “Did you turn the electricity off?!” 
You couldn’t help but scoff at his accusation. “First of all, I don’t even know how to do that. Second of all, how dare you accuse me of such a thing! I’m not that desperate for a man's attention…” You nagged. “The power just cut off. I bet it’s from the storm from outside, but maybe you haven’t noticed it since you locked yourself in your room all day.”
“I have a window in my room you know-“ A loud thunder interrupted Yoongi’s sentence. “Jesus.”
You placed your phone away, looking sheepishly at Yoongi who was wearing an oversized black shirt and gray sweats that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. “I guess you’re stuck with m-” But before you could even finish your sentence, Yoongi was already heading back to his room. Oh no, I don’t think so. You bolted out of your seat and jumped in front of Yoongi’s door, blocking his entrance. “Not so fast!” Even though his annoyed expression was enough for you to move out of his way, this was just a perfect opportunity that you couldn’t let go to waste. “You wanna drink with me?”
Yoongi scoffed at your suggestion, crossing his arms as he spoke to you. “Why would I wanna drink with you?” 
You forced a smile. “Because Hobi says you like drinking and we are gonna be stuck with each other for some time.” You explained. “Besides, because of the weather the internet is cut off. So I need some sort of entertainment.”
“So you only wanna talk to me 'cause you are bored.”
This bitch. “Ugh, stop being such a drama queen. You’re the one who keeps ignoring me.” How dare he imply that you were the reason you guys haven’t properly talked the last four days? “Now sit!” You said in a demanding way, making him well aware you weren’t planning on backing down tonight. Yoongi just did as he was told and placed himself down on the couch reluctantly. Pleased with your accomplishment, you quickly headed to the liquor cabinet, grabbing the first bottle that seemed decent to you. You placed it down on the coffee table, together with some glasses, but by Yoongi’s expression, you could tell he was not pleased.
“You got the wrong one.” He spoke softly.
“What?”
“This is the cheap alcohol Hobi picks for parties and stuff. Wait-“ You and Yoongi switched places, you sitting down on the couch and he headed over to the liquor cabinet. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, quickly swapping the previous bottle with another one. “Here, this is the good bottle.” As Yoongi placed the bottle down, together with himself on the couch, a good distance away from you, you couldn’t help but notice it seemed a lot more expensive than the previous bottle. 
“You ignore me for days, but at least I deserve your expensive liquor.” You say backhanded. It didn’t help the he-hates-my-guts situation, but hey, you couldn’t help it.
He just scoffed as he poured a drink for the both of you. “Need to enjoy a quality drink if I want to tolerate talking to you.” He handed one glass to you. “Here.”
“Ah yes, of course.” That made more sense. You accepted the drink, waiting for him to clink it. “To a lovely night.” You said, forcing a smile again. You noticed he did the same before you clinked glasses, simultaneously taking a sip from your drink.
By the way you scrunched up your face as you took your first sip, Yoongi quickly realized that you usually didn’t drink stuff like this. “Not used to the hard stuff, huh?” He said in a cocky manner.
“Absolutely not.” You said, face full of disgust. “But hey, if it makes you hate me less-”
“I don’t hate you.” Yoongi quickly added, cutting off your sentence. “You just annoy me.”
You just laughed as you took another sip. “I guess that’s something.” The more you drank from it, the better it got. “Why though? We used to be friends in high school, but ever since college you started to act…different.” Yoongi didn’t answer, all he did was shrug his shoulders before he finished his drink in one sip, quickly pouring himself another glass. He was hiding something, but you didn’t know what yet. “Fine, don’t tell me then.”
“The fact that you can’t remember the reason why, makes my annoyance to you even more justified.” Yoongi explained as he was swirling his drink around. “But I guess you do have a weird sense of memory. Like that one time, when you forgot what color rose I gave you, but you seemed to have remembered I cut off the thorns so you wouldn’t prick yourself.” He said slightly annoyed. “It was lavender by the way, but I also don’t think you remembered the meaning behind it.”
“Wait, you remember that?” After all those years, Yoongi still remembered that? It was a very early memory of you two, you were both 15 at the time. It was Valentine's Day at school, and since you knew neither of you would have a valentine, you decided to be each others’. He gave you that lavender rose while you gave him a weird videogame that he was into back in the day. You were slowly sipping that nasty drink Yoongi handed to you as your mind was lost in a sea of nostalgia.
He tried to brush it off, not acting as if it was anything special. “Just a random memory I have.” But he couldn’t. “Or maybe I just treasured our friendship more than you did.” There it was.
You forgot to tell Yoongi you were a lightweight, so the dramatic gasp you let out was partially that dramatic because of the alcohol. “That’s not true! You were one of my closest friends.” An angry pout formed on your face. “But then you started to act like a meanie.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh, I was a meanie?! You were the one that started forgetting about me ever since she got into college.” 
“Heh?!” You could feel yourself getting more drunk by the sip. “You were the one who started ignoring my texts!” Yoongi’s lips parted for a second, ready to snap back, before closing them again. He was saying too much. There was a reason for his change of behavior, but his pride was the reason he couldn’t say it. “Yeah, now you don’t know what to say, huh?!”
“Whatever.” Yoongi mumbled as he took another sip of his drink, finishing it as well, making him pour another one. He wasn’t planning on staying sober tonight, especially after exposing his feelings too much.
The alcohol was starting to get to you, because the longer you started at Yoongi, the cuter you found him. You also noticed his cheeks were redder than before, but you weren’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or because of the alcohol. Unlike him, you couldn’t handle your liquor that well, making you say things like “You know, you’d be a lot cuter if you weren’t such a dick to me.”
Yoongi stayed quiet for a second, swirling his drink again as if he were searching through all the possible comebacks to that comment. “I thought assholes were your thing?” He scoffed.
You tilted your head out of confusion, mixed with a pout on your lips. “What makes you say that?” 
“Well, by all the guys you’ve been fucking, I can tell there is a pattern-” 
“Are you slut shaming me, Min Yoongi?!” You gasped, a bit over the top maybe, but still justified. “Never expected that from you, I’ve never been so disappointed.” 
Yoongi’s face turned a pale white, not expecting for this conversation to turn out this way. “No, wait-” You crossed your arms and dramatically turned your head away from him. “That's not how I wanted to come across.” 
That’s when you started to overthink this situation, which made a grin appear on your face, making Yoongi even more concerned. “Wait…so are you being an asshole because you thought that was my type?” His eyes were wide and his lips were tightly pressed against one another. He truly didn’t know what he just got himself into.
“No, not like-”
“Waaait-” You moved a bit closer to Yoongi and words escaped your mouth before your mind could fully understand them. “So, you saw me fucking a bunch of so-called ‘assholes’ and thought, lemme do the same? Didn’t know you actually liked me that much, Yoongi.” You teased.
“I think you’re looking a bit too hard into this-”
“So you were not trying to be my type?”
“Not intentionally, no.”
“What if I said that you are my type though?” 
The words came out casually, but you didn’t realize how impactful those words were to Yoongi. “W-what?” he stuttered.
“And not because you suddenly became a dick to me, just for clarification!” You quickly added, we wouldn’t want any misconceptions. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that second glass, what even was that drink? It sure wasn’t anything like the cheap stuff you got at the bars. You looked up at Yoongi and you could tell the red of his cheeks wasn’t from the alcohol. “Hehe, someone’s flustered.”
Yoongi’s body language had changed, he wasn’t as relaxed as a few minutes before, which was understandable. He was more tense and you could tell he was nervous all of a sudden. “You’re just saying things now.” Was all he could say, almost like a defense, like he couldn’t believe you just said that, let alone mean it.
Your sudden laugh caught him off guard. “Why would I lie about such a thing? You know me better than that.” You looked up at Yoongi, his eyes almost as innocent as a deer. His gaze was fixated on you and even though his mouth was shut thigh, you could tell more than a thousand words were going through his mind right now. “Ah, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, Yoongi.“ You leaned in ever closer, surprising him with how little distance there was left between the two of you. 
He couldn’t help but look away, this was just getting a bit too much for him. “You don’t mean that.” He said under his breath.
You pouted again as your eyes were studying Yoongi’s features. The way his black hair fell, the fluttering of his lashes, the rosy color of his cheeks, he really was a work of art. “Maybe I can prove it to you?” Yoongi’s eyes slightly widened at your suggestion, making him turn his head back to you. It painted a smile on your face. “What’s going through your mind right now?” You teased, noticing you piqued his interest.
His breathing got heavier, and you noticed the quick glance he took at your lips before he fixed them back to your eyes. “The same that’s going through yours, I hope.”
A smirk formed on your lips as you looked at his. “Is that so?” Yoongi wanted to say something back, but he couldn’t. “Is that why you’re so nervous all of a sudden?” You moved your hands up to his cheek, slowly caressing it with your fingers. “Because a lot of dirty things are going through my mind right now.” Yoongi seemed to be starstruck, unable to make a move. “You really can’t find your words, huh?” That’s when you noticed…“But your little friend says more than enough.”Your eyes drafted towards the tent in his gray sweats, making you smirk out of satisfaction at the sudden surprise. You moved your hand away from his face, laying them down on his thighs. “Can I?” You asked as you slowly caressed your fingers on his thigh, just inches away from his ever-growing erection. Yoongi took a deep breath before slowly nodding, almost seeming like he was fighting himself to give in. His response made your eyes twinkle, and you moved your hands up to caress his aching bulge. Your eyes were still focused on his’ as your hands were doing it’s own thing. You loved seeing his reaction to you touching him. The look of annoyance slowly faded into pure lust. His breathing got heavier with every caress your hand made, making his dick twitch out of response. Yoongi’s eyes moved down at your lips, almost looking desperate to have them against his’. “If you want to kiss me, then do it.” You teased. You wanted him to give in to his desires. You wanted him to admit it to himself how much he wanted you right now. And oh, did it drive him mad. You could see the hint of frustration in his face, his pride and desires were arguing, but one was obviously the winner since it only took him seconds before he leaned in to kiss you. His lips hesitated a bit to move as they touched yours, but when you were the one to start the motion, he had no choice but to follow along. You felt his hand creep in around your waist, pulling you in closer. A raspy moan left his lips since your hands had found their way underneath his gray sweats. “Nice to hear you haven’t lost your voice.” You whispered teasingly.
“Shut u-fuck.” With circular motions, you spread his precum all over his tip before giving him a hard stroke. “Please, y/n-” You never expected Yoongi to moan your name so desperately, but here you were. The man who had been ignoring you for the last couple of days was now more than desperate for your undivided attention. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you pressed your lips against Yoongi again, the sweet taste of his liquor still lingering. For a brief second, you let go of his twitching dick, leaving the comfort of the couch to sit on the ground, just the right height for easy access. You grabbed Yoongi’s sweats at its hem, dragging it down, making his erection even more visible. You were surprised by his size, making you even more excited to touch him. Saying you never expected to be in this situation would be a lie since you’ve fantasized about it multiple times during your college days. But unfortunately for the two of you, that’s when Yoongi decided to start ignoring you…
Yoongi’s eyes were fully focused on you, admiring the view you had given him. You tucked your hair behind your ear before grabbing his cock by its base, giving it a slow lick from there all the way to the top, without breaking eye contact. You circled your tongue around his tip before fully taking him in, making him let out a long heavy moan, almost sounding like a sigh of relief. Your hand followed the motion of your lips, starting out slow. The sound of you sucking Yoongi off in combination with his heavy breaths filled the room, which for you, was music to your ears. Occasionally, he would let out a small whimper, making you ever so proud of what you were doing. Yoongi’s head was thrown back in his seat, unable to continue looking at you as his hair fell in front of his eyes. He was getting lost in the pleasure, moaning your name under his breath mixed with cuss words. You removed your lips from his cock, making him let out a moan out of reflex. You quickened the pace of your hand as you kissed the inside of his thighs, eyes fully focused on him. “Don’t stop-” Managed to come out of his mouth as his heavy breathing became full of moans, making it clear to you that he was getting closer. You wrapped your lips back around him again, making him let out a raspy moan. “Fuuuck-“ You felt Yoongi’s hand finding the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair, moving your head even further down so he could enjoy the gagging sounds you made. “Just like that.” Like the good girl you were, you went along with the pace Yoongi had set for you, not caring that the tears in your eyes were ruining your mascara. “You’re taking me so well.” You looked back up at Yoongi, noticing he had his eyes back on you. How could your eyes look so innocently up at him as you were absolutely ruining him at the same time? “Where do you want it?” The twinkle in your eye and the lack of response as you continued to suck him off made it clear to him where you wanted it. He threw his head back again and the subtle twitch in his legs made it obvious he was nearly there. “Shit-I’m gonna-fuck-“ You made it hard for him to speak as you increased your speed, making it all harder for him to suppress his orgasm. A raspy groan left Yoongi’s mouth as you felt him filling your mouth with white ribbons of his cum. The feeling of it against the back of your throat made you whimper for a second, but you tried your best to clean it all up. But fuck, was there a lot of it. You tried your best to clean every drop of Yoongi, and when his dick left your mouth, it was already turning limp. You couldn’t help but smirk as you wiped the excess off of the corner of your lips, enjoying the view of Yoongi being absolutely worn out. Yoongi gathered the last of his energy to sit up straight, leaning towards you to kiss you again. “I wanna make you feel good as well.” He whispered in between kisses.
A menacing grin appeared on your face, however. “Hmh, no.” You whispered back before pulling away.
“Wait, what?!” Your answer made Yoongi snap out of his high, not sure why you would refuse his offer.
You stood up from off your knees, feeling them being red from sitting that long. “Maybe if you’re a bit nicer to me the next couple of days, I’ll let you. But for now, no.” You said nonchalantly and full of attitude, even though this didn’t seem to be in your favor, ‘cause shit were you horny. You walked away from the couch and towards Hobi’s room. “Goodnight, Yoongi.”
Yoongi was dumbfounded and confused for a good minute, not sure what just had happened. All he knew was that he wished had made you cum first.
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chimivx · 1 month
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That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?
👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 7.5k (part FIVE of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }
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september 14th ~ saturday ~ 12:02 p.m.
[you]: i’m sorry i left so fast i didn’t mean to run
[you]: i just woke up can we talk
september 14th ~ saturday ~ 4:57 p.m.
[you]: hey just checking in, are you okay
september 15th ~ sunday ~ 10:17 p.m
A book has lived on your lap for two days now. Since you woke up Saturday late morning after your night at ATZ, you’ve been situated in the center of your bed getting a head start on assignments, setting your planner up for the semester, making sure everything was in absolute order. This was the most important part of being here.
Not the boys, not the parties, not the sisterhood drama… The grades.
Nasara offered you a spectacular scholarship because you were actually pretty booksmart. And thank god for it too, you knew your dad would never be able to send you here on his own. He had money to spend, but it didn’t necessarily go to you without a good motive.
The grades had to stick. The grades had to be almost perfect.
Or, you weren’t getting that degree.
Being in a sorority without a doubt took a toll on your wallet, and your fathers. When there were fundraisers you were working your ass off to make sure you raised enough money to both keep the place going as well as hand some of it over to the charity you were doing it for. That’s partially why coming into this year has been so nerve wracking. There were nine of you in the house. You were not prepared to see the cost come the beginning of next month.
Your dad paid for September. He took a couple jobs and was able to give it to you in full. The rest of the year was up to you. Not one part of you wanted to have to ask him for help. You were capable. You were able to do it. The rest of these girls had money, they had the fame… You’d been hustling for two years, you could make it two more.
There was always the option to move into the dorms, or better yet, move into an apartment off campus somewhere in Delo which sparked your fancy. The only issue is there would be no one to take with you, and the only acceptable way to go about it would be to do it with a roommate. Tori was off the table, she was obsessed with the ITZ house, plus it was a couple minutes away from her boyfriend. Why would she ever want to move further from that?
Flipping a page in your notebook, the door to your bedroom swung open and a flustered Tori stormed in, her brows scrunched, her eyes pointed to the floor. She bounced about the room, tossing her blankets around, dropping to her knees to file through her things under her bed, jumping to her feet to scour her drawers.
A sleepy eyed Yuna popped her head in the doorway looking equally as stressed as your roommate. “Hey, Ror,” she mumbled, her eyes darting around the floor and the shelves. “Tor, I don’t think you brought it in here.”
“Hey,” you said to her. “What are you looking for?” Focusing on Tori, you closed your notebook. The two of you haven’t discussed Friday night. Nothing’s been unpacked. She’s been busy with sorority things and hanging out with Mina and Yuna. 
It sometimes fell that way this time of year, at least it did your sophomore year. The three of them were on the board, they were more important than you and your other friends. Though, last year it was only Tori and Yuna taking some time to themselves, overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. Now she was in on it.
“My ITZ planner,” Tori sighed, her vision tunneled on her surroundings, speaking hushed, but with power. “I had it at the meeting on Friday, I left it in the house, it didn’t come out with me. That has stuff in it that Yeji didn’t write down, if I don’t find it…”
“You’ll find it,” Yuna nodded. “I’ll go check out my room just in case I grabbed it, then I’ll check Yeji’s desk.” She was gone in a flash.
Tori drug a hand through her waves, her hair falling naturally down her back. With no makeup on, her tan skin still had the ability to glow. “Ror,” she muttered, spinning around in a circle to face you. Meeting her eyes, you tried to smile, but it didn’t come through as such. She was so frustrated anyhow, she probably didn't even notice. “Can I check your stuff?”
Hesitating, you shrugged. “You think I took it?”
Tori groaned, her hands digging through her hair once more. “God, no,” she said. “Just in case, I don’t think you took anything, I just have to check everywhere…” Her hands started flying, her brown eyes manic and panicked.
“Okay, okay,” you said, waving her along with a hand toward your bed and your things below it. “Whatever you gotta do, go for it.” She dropped to the floor and you turned back to your book, opening your notebook to copy down notes from your classes this past week.
Tori pulled baskets of clothes out, rifling through them, then she moved on when she didn’t find what she was looking for. Searching through some extra bags you had stored under there, she moved through every bin, every basket, every bag. Nothing. Then, she moved to the other side where you had more recent things shoved without any rhyme or reason. Shoes you’ve worn recently, your textbooks for class, the bag you’d use for classes- she opened that and searched through it.
She popped her head up, looking at you, you could feel it. Turning your head slowly, you found her confused. 
“What?” you asked.
“Ror,” she said quietly, holding up an opened light purple package with words on the front that made you want to be sick. She was shocked, her lips parted ever so slightly. “Is this yours?”
Swallowing hard, feeling your stomach in your throat, you couldn’t lie your way out of this one. “I… Yeah, guess I forgot to throw that out.”
Tori flipped it toward her to read it, then she shot you another crazed look. “Why the fuck did you take a Plan B?”
Hm, now this was interesting. 
You could lie.
But, at this point now there was no sense in lying.
“Seonghwa?” she whispered.
Yep, no reason to lie.
“Seonghwa,” you breathed, and she leapt to her feet, the box flying from her fingers onto the floor. She jumped onto your bed, the mattress moving beneath you.
“Aurora, what?” She almost gasped. Her knees bumped into yours as she tucked her knees up on the blankets. “When, what?”
You closed your book for good, setting it aside. Taking a breath, you looked up at her and cringed. “Last Friday?”
“Last Friday!” she shouted. Shushing her, she clamped her hands over her mouth at the same time. “I’m not sorry, what the fuck?! That’s why we lost you? You were upstairs with Seonghwa?”
“I was,” you whispered, glancing down at your lap. “We were both drunk, it happened, like, so fast.”
Tori snapped her jaw shut and sat up straight. The way she looked at you made you feel about sixteen years old. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Leaning back, you shrugged, then grabbed onto your ankles and sighed. “You got Mina,” you whispered, and she squinted.
“What?”
You cleared your throat. “You got Mi-”
Tori slapped a hand to your wrist. “No, yeah, I heard you, Ror,” she scoffed. “I mean, what?” She leaned into you, dipping her chin down to meet your eyes. After another shrug as answer from you, she shook her head and laughed. “No, no, unacceptable. I won’t take that. What do you mean that’s why you didn’t tell me you fucked Seonghwa?”
“Don’t say it,” you sneered, eyeing your open bedroom door. Tori flipped her hair back and let another laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t tell you ‘cause you’ve been so close with her, and clearly you’ve told her plenty about me. This isn’t a big deal, I didn’t want it to become a thing.”
She rolled her eyes and settled her hands into her own lap. “Fine, you’re right, I told her too much.”
“Thank you,” you said within a breath, blinking away the obnoxiousity.
“It wasn’t right,” Tori reached a hand toward you, one you took, “I’m sorry. You’re my friend first, my best friend. I shouldn’t have said what I said. She should’ve found it all out naturally.”
Squeezing her hand, you tightened your lips. “She shouldn’t have found out about it at all.”
Tori raised a brow every so slightly, the one with the piercing in it. “Do you like Mina?” Your nervous system sparked fight or flight, but in a way that made you groan aloud and half out yourself when you wanted to keep all feelings about it inside. “Wait, what’s happened, I thought everything was chill, we were helping her get Yunho, and taking her to the parties, breaking her out…”
“Yeah,” you said. “Helping her with all that.” Letting yourself collect your thoughts, Tori waiting patiently, you really didn’t know what to say. 
For starters, you haven’t spoken to Yunho since you left his house Friday night. Acquiring your phone from Seonghwa after fleeing the boys bedroom, you walked home, teetering to the side most of the way. Getting yourself up onto your balcony, sloppily, you fell onto your bed and rolled off of it, putting yourself together for bed before Tori made it back into the house.
She appeared later on. The girls told you they came in Ryujin and Isla’s window instead, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep. Which you were.
None of them know you were there two nights ago.
“Mina’s… Alright,” you said, shrugging. “I like that she’s getting more comfortable, I want her to be comfortable… I hate what I said at dinner, no one deserves that, especially where she is in life, that’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Looking at Tori, both of your lips were pouted. They started to turn into smiles, then eventually giggles.
“Don’t ever not tell me things again,” Tori said through her grin. “Okay?”
Nodding, calming your smile, you said, “Okay.”
Lying straight to her face.
“Now,” she said, scooting closer to you if it were possible. She wanted to occupy the same space. “Tell me everything, I need to know, you slept with the Vice President of ATZ… Is it true?”
You tilted your head. “Is what true?”
Tori made a face, jutting her chin forward like she couldn’t believe you didn’t get it. “The… the thing. Did he…”
Waiting for her to finish, she didn’t. “Tori, the what?”
“He didn’t do it? I guess not if I haven’t seen it.” She dropped her eyes to your neck and you immediately slapped your hand there, your eyes going wide. “He did.” She grabbed onto your elbows and shook you. “Aurora, you have to go to the Sweethearts Formal with him.”
“What? Why?” You’d much rather go with someone else. Shaking your head you pulled the collar of your sweatshirt down and showed her the dulling spot on the base of your neck. Tori started to smile. 
“A little birdie told me that he does that,” she said, her voice suddenly acquiring the ability to quiet down.
“Mingi,” you said, flat as ever.
“Course,” she said without a beat. “But, here’s the kicker, Ror. This means no one else can touch you. Did anyone see you with it? I can’t believe I didn’t notice, I think I was so worried about Mina.” 
Dropping your hands to your lap, you took a slow breath and let your eyes shut for a few seconds. “Tori, what do you mean? That no one else can touch me?”
She sat up and glanced toward the open door, then back to you. Whispering, she said, “You’re his. He’s, like, claimed you.”
“What?!” you shouted, and she shushed you, giggling as she did.
Latching onto your hands, she said, “The boys are serious about this, too. No one’s ever broken it. Mingi told me that if any of them get close then they’re forced to absolutely humiliate themselves, or something. I’m not really sure, ‘cause I don’t think any of them have even tried. You’re Seonghwa’s, and if any ATZ boys try anything with you then they’ll be kicked out of the frat.”
Your heart sunk into your stomach.
“Oh,” you said, nodding your head. Tori narrowed her eyes and rolled her shoulders back, inspecting you.
“Didn’t Yunho say Hwa was dating somebody?”
Gulping at the mention of his name, you shook your head. “He lied.”
Tori froze. “Why would he lie?”
“I dunno,” you spewed quickly, flipping open to a random page in your book, hoping to end this conversation before it drew on any longer. “He’s been weird this whole time we’ve been back.”
Tori glanced down at your work and pursed her lips. Sliding off your bed she spun around and clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s probably just what Mina said, yanno? Coming back, feeling overwhelmed? Did you guys…” Her pause made you look at her. “Oh,” she breathed. “Right.”
Rolling your eyes you took back to your book, you said, “No, we didn’t go to Blend.”
Tori nodded, looking around your shared room. “Right,” she muttered. “We’re banned. You guys have been talking though, right? Maybe you just have to pull him out of his head, you know how he gets sometimes.” She puttered about the room, looking through more things for her planner. “When he loves something he gets crazy. Remember his report on medieval Europe, or whatever he was hyper focused on?” You lifted your chin, watching her walk around. “That boy is kind, I’ll tell you that, but Mingi’s told me he’s been a little brain fried, I think.”
“What do you mean?” you whispered, watching her flip one of her empty designer purses upside down like something would miraculously fall out of it. She sighed and slumped over, then looked at you.
“You guys really haven’t talked?” She tossed the purse to the floor and took your head shake as an answer. Resorting to your shared closet she started pushing hanging clothes aside, dropping to her knees again so her hands could skim the floor full of shoes. “I guess he and I really haven’t either, with the ban, whenever we’re there I’m all over Mingi.” She giggled. An obscure fact, of course. “But, you know Yunho, Ror. When he has his brain set on something, a project, a report, a lesson… If it’s something he loves he’s gonna be scatterbrained.”
“Classes just started,” you said, voice tiny.
Tori flipped her hair over her shoulder and groaned. “Then, I dunno, Ror, maybe he’s in love with Mina or something, it’s a person then, not his schoolwork.” She shot out of the closet, shouting loud enough to wake up the house. “I FOUND IT!” Her ITZ planner covered in cute little stickers was in her hand as she jumped to her feet. Footsteps bound into the room, Yuna whipping around the corner at lighting speed. The two voiced their relief and started out of the room. Tori stopped before she left, looking back at you staring at the floor. “You good, Ror?”
Trying to take a breath, you attempted a smile, one she believed.
“Yeah, yeah,” you said even though you couldn’t feel your legs.
With a smile, she was gone, closing the door behind her.
Blinking, you took the shakiest breath, releasing it with a sigh, you whispered, “Fuck.”
september 15th ~ sunday ~ 11:15 p.m.
[starhwa]: Thinking about you, don’t work too hard this week, need my girl to be happy.
[you]: don’t worry, she’s not freaking out about her classes
[starhwa]: But she’s freaking out?
[you]: slightly
[starhwa]: Do you want to talk about it?
[you]: not yet, i’m sorry
[starhwa]: Don’t apologize to me, when you want to tell me you will.
september 16th ~ monday ~ 8:02 a.m.
[you]: you’re making me nervous, yo
[you]: i need to talk to you, please
september 16th ~ monday ~ 11:23 a.m.
“Small iced coffee, please, with cream and a shot of caramel.”
The cafe was empty for a Monday mid-morning, Blend usually buzzing and alive around seven when students would flood the concrete floor like feins, jonesing for a sniff of the freshly roasted coffee, allowing themselves to be late because they waited in the long lines that’d pour out the door. This semester you’d be avoiding those lines on a Monday, your first class didn’t start until noon.
“Small?” The barista teased, using his ring covered fingers to push his dark hair from his eyes. It fell towards his lanky shoulders, his smaller frame swallowed by the brown apron he had to wear over his jeans and t-shirt. Turning to get started on your coffee, he raised a brow. “You’ve gone weak.” His eyes drew over your outfit, a hoodie and jeans. “Junior year means you’re watching your caffeine?” He mimicked a British accent and you both laughed.
“No,” you smiled, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, “Maybe just watching the anxiety?” Your accent was terrible, and he was quick to call you out on it.
“Darling,” he widened his eyes and crossed behind the bar, fixing your cup. “That was awful,” you both laughed, “Why are we anxious, the year has just started?”
Shrugging, you weren’t sure what to say to him.
Taeyang, with Theo written on his nametag, lowered his brows and rolled his eyes. “I don’t like that answer.” He pumped an extra shot of caramel in your cup, his subtle way of showing you that you were one of his favorites. “Choi Aurora,” he said, setting his eyes on you. Popping a lid and a purple straw into your cup, he came back toward the register and almost handed you your cup, taking it back before you could grab it. “Where’ve you and your friend been?”
“Tori?” you asked, and he shook his head.
“The boy, Yunho,” he said, stone faced. “You’re usually all up in here. Last semester I had to kick you guys out ‘cause we were closing and you two wouldn’t shut up.”
Averting your eyes to the counter, you shrugged again. “There’s been house drama, I guess,” you said. When you found his eyes, his deep, off putting, mystery filled eyes, you said, “We’ve been banned from seeing them.”
The accent was back and he lost it, sliding you your coffee, punching in numbers on the register. “Sorry to hear that, sweetums,” he said, shooting you a smile. The door to the cafe swung open behind you, the little bell that hung above it sung a little song. “Three seventy five.” Setting his hands on the counter, Theo nodded his head to whoever was behind you while you rifled through your bag for the cash. “What can I get started for you?”
“Iced Americano, large,” the familiar voice said, coming a bit closer to you.
Theo shot you a look. “One large coming up.”
“Shut up, Tae,” you grumbled. Your wallet was gone, and you couldn’t even fumble together random cash from the bottom of your bag. Tori must’ve dropped it on the floor when she was looking for her planner, but thank god she put the empty Plan B box back in here, because that was important. “Can I still send it to your number? Is that a thing?” Fumbling for your phone you slid it open and sent an urgent message to your father.
[you]: can i please have five dollars quick, just trying to buy a coffee
[choi asshole #1]: I sent you fifty last week so you’d have it for coffee. Where the fuck did that go already?
[you]: coffee
The empty box in your bag.
“Yeah, Ror, that’s fine,” Theo said with a brow scrunch, already serving the boy behind you. “Six fifty.”
“Ror?” The boy behind you stepped up the counter, leaning his elbows on it. “I got this, put us together.” Whipping your head to the right you’re greeted with blonde hair and black eyes, the tall boy giving you the smallest smile. “What’s up?”
Glancing to the coffees, you said, “You don’t have to do that.”
Soul shrugged, taking a sip of his. “It’s my pleasure.”
Theo laughed, sending you a look. “It’s his pleasure,” he whispered in the accent, making you smile. Soul’s gaze traveled from him to you, and he stood up straight, towering over you.
“Where are you headed?” he asked, slapping a twenty on the counter. Grabbing his drink he started to walk away, taking you with him.
“This is too much, Shota,” Theo said, voice low, studying him through his lashes. The freshman turned back and waved him off.
“Keep it,” he said without a thought. “Thanks, bro.”
Theo rolled his eyes and popped the cash in his drawer. “Anytime, bro.”
“Thanks, Tae,” you said, waving as you walked beside Soul, taking a sip of your coffee. “This is the best, thank you.” He didn’t look up, he only bobbed his head.
Soul held the door for you, the two of you stepping out into the September breeze. Delo stayed fairly warm until the fall months, but not like Sicuro, or Contramano. Those areas stayed hot for long. Delo was comfortable, it was perfect. Hoodies in September, sweaters in November, sundresses in March and April… You adored every bit of it.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Soul said, looking down at you. Sipping your coffee you scrunched your brow. “Where are you headed?” His hair was clean, hanging over his forehead, touching his shoulders. He wore something similar to what he was in the other night, ripped black jeans and a random t-shirt that fit his aesthetic. 
“I have business statistics at twelve,” you said. He started to smile, his lips pressed together, then his eyes scanned your being like yours did to his.
Way to be subtle, Ror.
“Business statistics,” he curled his lip. “You smart people. What’s your major?”
“Marketing,” you said, and he stared at you, not computing. “It’s basically business.”
“Coulda started with that,” he huffed a laugh, then pointed around for directions. “Lead the way.”
Raising your brows, you asked, “You’re gonna walk me there?”
Soul sipped his coffee and gave you a look of surprise. “What kind of gentlemen would I be if I bought you a coffee and made you walk to class all alone on this beautiful day and this…” he glanced around, “...very safe, very clean, very put together college campus.”
He took note of the smile that had found your lips at some point standing here with him. “Alright,” you said, starting down the street to the left, “This way, Soul.”
Falling in step with you, he seemed to find you more interesting than the commotion of other students around him. Asking you questions about when you started at Nasara, how you got into ITZ, how you became friends with the members of ATZ… He got a brief history lesson while he guzzled down his coffee.
“You’re going to join, right?” His eyes went wide while he sipped from his straw, answer enough. “You and your friends? That I met at the house?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, proud. “Me, Seob, Intak… We’ve been friends since high school, we’ve been waiting for this for three years.”
Taking a right down a street corner, Soul kept himself in time with you, though you're certain he would walk much faster if you were the one following him. His legs could stretch for miles.
“Three years? You’ve wanted to go to Nasara since you were a sophomore in high school?” 
Soul tossed his empty cup into a trash can on the street and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know Taeyang was in ATZ, right? Theo?” Pausing at a green light while the cars passed by, you looked up at him curiously. “Tae?”
“Yes, I know who you’re talking about,” you half laughed, shaking your head.
“He’s my brother,” he said nonchalantly, moving his focus to the traffic.
Popping your jaw open, you said, “Oh my god, wait, he graduated last year. He’s your brother?”
Soul shrugged. “Step-brother,” he mumbled as if the words tasted bad. He turned to you. “My dad married his mom right before he graduated high school.”
“Interesting,” you said, grabbing his arm when the light turned red and the crosswalk sign lit up. Soul moved into you, a crowd of people coming from the opposite way forcing you together. “He’s never said anything about a brother.”
“‘Cause he hates me,” Soul scrunched his nose, again with some sort of pride, some sort of confidence. Landing on the other side of the street you both took your hands to yourselves and headed toward the end of the street where a massive building waited for you.
“Why would he hate you, he’s a grown adult who-”
“I fucked his girlfriend.”
Stopping dead in your tracks he didn’t catch on until a couple steps later. Taking in the shock on your face as he turned around, the grin that lit him up was entirely adorable, a word that shouldn't be used after what he’s just told you. Walking backwards, willing you to follow him, he laughed.
“You’re not serious,” you said.
Soul nibbled his bottom lip. “I’m so serious.” Expertly threading his feet behind him, he cocked his chin up and asked, “Am I ATZ material?”
Rolling your eyes, you said, “This year I think you fit right in.”
He allowed you to catch up to his side, then he spun around and continued forward, eyeing the building you were approaching. “Theo’s mom doesn’t think I’m smart enough,” he mumbled, a secret he didn’t seem to want to say. Either that, or he hasn’t had anyone to say it to. Giving him a look, he hung his head back, the confidence still pouring from him despite his sudden lament. “My dad could pay them off though,” he shrugged, meeting your eyes. “Another reason for Taeyang to hate me.”
“Well,” you began, pausing at the bench on the street in front of the double doors you were meant to go inside. Dropping your bag to the seat you searched for a lipgloss and pulled it out, twisting it open. “That’s not very fair.” 
Sliding the brush over your lips, Soul watched. “It’s not?” he asked, his voice almost whispering. Rubbing your lips together you shook your head.
“Not really, I mean most of those guys work really hard,” you said. Applying another layer of gloss, Soul poked the tip of his tongue between his lips. Rubbing your lips together with a smack this time, he snapped his eyes back to yours. “I think if you just applied yourself and worked hard to get your grades up this first semester, they’d consider you without the money.” He bobbed his head, hanging onto every word. Taking the last sip of your coffee, the straw sticking to your fresh gloss, Soul held out his hand.
“I’ll take care of it,” he breathed, his eyes flickering to your lips again. Slipping the cup into his hand you slung your bag over your shoulder and smiled.
“Thanks,” you said, and he nodded. “For the coffee and the walk.”
“Anytime.” His face was so pure, so seemingly innocent that one would never be able to believe he fucked his older brothers girlfriend. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course.” Ignoring the way he ogled your lips again, you headed toward the double glass doors, not going inside until you threw him a, “Work hard, Soul,” over your shoulder.
september 17th ~ tuesday ~ 3:30 p.m.
[choi asshole #1]: I’ll be in Contramano until Saturday Aura.
[you]: wonderful, enjoy, bring home the big bucks
[choi asshole #1]: Don’t talk like that, come on.
[you]: what else do you do in Mano
The phone screen lit up, choi asshole #1 in bright white letters across the top of it.
“Who’s calling you?” Tori asked from the seat at the table next to you. She leaned on your shoulder and gasped, the sound startling you. “Answer it, answer it, answer it.”
Disgust bled onto your face as you looked at her. “Don’t have a crush on my dad, Tor.”
“How can I not?” she whispered, staring at the bouncing text on the screen. His photo was a funny one of you two from when you were a toddler, sitting on his lap, the two of you with matching pigtails in your hair. Releasing a breath, you gave her a small headshake, then drug the arrow across the screen, answering the video call. 
“Hi, Dad,” you said, not the least bit excited to listen to what he had to say. Tori grabbed the back of your hand and twisted the phone so you were both in the frame.
“Hi, Mr. Choi,” she crooned, sitting her chin in her hand.
He appeared, his black hair parted to the side over his forehead, cut short, but long enough to reach his brows. “Tori, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Yeonjun, I don’t like the honorifics.”
She smiled and giggled. “It’s respect, Mr. Choi, I can’t not call you anything but that.”
Your father clicked his tongue and glanced over his phone, a woman's laugh sounding off camera. “Fine,” he said, then looked back at you. “Aura, I wanna be able to give you enough for next month, that’s why I’m going.”
“Okay,” you said, hardening your glare.
Yeonjun glanced over the phone once more, seeming to share a sigh with whoever was behind the screen. “It’s fast,” he said, trying to reason with you. “Your uncle’s coming with me, we’re gonna be fine.”
“And Seulgi? Or is that Lisa?” You swallowed your laugh as Tori launched herself out of the frame to lose her composure. Yeonjun laughed, letting his head bob.
“It’s Haru, but thank you for that.”
You smiled. “Of course.”
“How was your first week of classes? The second starting out okay?”
Ignoring the way Tori tapped your arm, you leaned over the table and focused on the phone. “They were just great, Dad. Same old shit.”
“And the sorority? Everything going okay?”
Now you shared a look with Tori, one that told her to keep her mouth shut.
“It’s all good,” you said, looking down at your phone. He was walking around now, the woman he was with mumbling things to him as his brows twisted. The two spoke to one another for a second before he focused on you.
“Glad to hear it, Aura,” he finally said. “You staying away from the boys down the street?”
A knife to the gut. “As much as you’re staying away from the women in Contramano.”
Yeonjun shot a glare toward the camera, the woman laughing aloud near him. “Really hope you’re not serious, Aurora. Remember what I told you, they’re trouble. They might look all nice from the outside, but they’re only thinking about one thing.”
“What if we are, too?” Tori whispered, and a laugh shot through you. Thankfully, your father didn’t hear.
“I don’t want or need any grandkids yet, okay?”
“Yeah, and I don’t want or need any siblings, okay? Wrap it before you tap it, Junie.”
Tori just about lost her shit.
Yeonjun shook his head and glanced upward, seeking some sort of help from the heavens. “You’re my child. Think I made you myself. Did your mother help at all?”
Running your tongue over your teeth you tilted your head. “If you ever find her, ask her.”
Yeonjun sighed, exasperated. “These phone calls exhaust me as much as they exhaust you, Aura. Trust me.” He paused whatever it was that he could possibly be doing at this hour on a Tuesday, and he gave you his full attention. “You are my everything. Please, be safe. You and Tori, don’t leave each other alone at those parties, okay?”
“Okay,” you said.
Tori peeped her head into the frame. “Okay, Yeonjun.”
His face lit up, his smile wide as he looked at her. “Yes! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink. You kicked her ankle with yours.
“Aura, I love you,” your father said, raising both his brows. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, too. Be safe.”
He gave you a soft smile. “I will.”
Before he hung up you tossed in a, “Don’t get arrested again,” that made him grin and equally groan as the screen went black. Laying your phone on the table you drug your hands through your hair and took a long breath, turning towards Tori in your chair, laughing quietly at the way she eyed you.
“Go ahead,” you muttered.
She wasted little time. “Hottest drug dealer ever.”
september 18th ~ wednesday ~ 6:47 p.m.
[you]: this is the last time i’m messaging you yunho
[you]: did i sit on your dick wrong or something, just let me know whats going on
september 20th  ~ friday ~ 9:19 p.m.
Yeji, Tori, Mina, Yuna, Chaeryeong… The three of them holed up in a meeting the second all of their last classes for the day were over. In two days you’d all be meeting the freshmen recruits out of the applicants your trustworthy sisters ran background checks on now.
ITZ had applicants. The chapter would grow, the costs would go down, the drama would lessen, and life would move on.
Neither you and Tori nor any of the other girls have attempted to sneak out of the house this week. With classes in full swing the attention had shifted and now the priority was homework and good grades. In order to be examples for the future of ITZ none of you could afford a slip in GPA.
This past week has been a strange one. Anytime you set foot into Blend for a coffee you were reminded that Theo and Soul were step brothers, though you never brought it up to your favorite barista who also in turn had been one of the safest guys you knew in ATZ last year. Seonghwa hadn’t left you alone, he asked you about your day everyday, allowing you to rant about your classes or bitch about a professor. And Soul, well, he always seemed to find you on campus day after day since Monday.
Much like right now.
The soft knock at the door seemed to embody his exact energy. Soft at first, but the second the door was opened he was entirely unpredictable.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
After unlocking the several locks on the front door you tugged it open to his smug little smile and his blonde hair pulled back in a tie. Wisps hung at his neck and his forehead.
“Come to ATZ,” he said, and you hushed him, turning backward to see if anyone was around. They’d been in the meeting for over an hour now, who knew when it’d be over.
“You’re lucky I answered the door,” you said. “If it were anyone else you’d be done for. You’re not allowed to be here.”
He perked a single brow. “The ban?”
“The rules, Soul,” you hissed, stepping out onto the porch with him, closing the door behind you. He stepped aside and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s always been an ITZ thing, it’s a sorority thing, no boys allowed without permission.”
He checked you out without shame. Taking your hands to your black shorts you tugged the cotton down a smidge. “Come for a little?”
“Look, Soul,” you sighed, stepping closer to him. He pouted his lips the slightest, his black eyes shining and wide. “I like this friendship we’re starting, and I admire your persistence.”
“But?” he asked, adding in the word himself like he knew it was coming. Dropping his chin he looked down at his feet, a frown forming on his pink lips. 
“But,” you said, watching him as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, tapped a few things, then shoved it back into his jeans. Laughing quietly, you gestured toward it. “You’re young.”
“I’m nineteen.” He screwed his face up. 
“You’re a freshman, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, especially with ATZ, I’m dealing with a lot, especially with ATZ,” you paused for a moment, feeling half your heart crumble as he gazed at you. “If I’m picking up what I think you’re putting down… Soul, I have feelings for somebody else. What you want won’t work, it won’t happen.”
He nodded, his expression falling solemn. “Seonghwa?” he asked, looking up at you. 
Your lungs contracted in on themselves. “Yes,” you whispered, and he nodded, glancing down with his brows pulled together. “I’m sorry, Soul. You’re cool, you’ve got a lot going for you.” Taking another step closer to him, you pushed some wisps of hair from his eyes. “And you’re adorable.”
He blinked a few times, his black eyes lighting up. “I am?” He spoke in a whisper.
Smiling, you nodded once, then leaned into him, pressing your lips to his cheek. His shoulders rose and a quiet gasp shot through him. When you pulled back, he was wearing the tiniest smile.
“If you liked that Monday walk I wouldn’t mind if it became a thing,” you said. “Y’know, occasionally. Grab a coffee, walk to class?”
“I skipped my ten o’clock for you,” he whispered, then he giggled at the look you gave him.
“Soul, didn’t I say to work hard?” You nudged his shoulder and he played it up like you shot him, his hand latching on top of yours to keep it on him. “How did you even know where I was?”
He shrugged, squeezed your hand, then let it go. “Lucky guess?”
Sighing, you stepped back and waved him off the porch. “Go to your classes, Soul. Go back to ATZ, or wherever you came from.” You both shared a smile, and he obeyed, leaping off the porch with a single jump. “Don’t ruin your chance,” you shouted as he walked backward, his eyes eating you up. “You can do it here,” you pointed to your head, then moved them to where your pockets would be if you had any. “Not from here.”
“Thanks, Aurora,” he said, and when he hit the sidewalk after passing through the gate, he was gone, thankfully, because the moment you had the door locked the meeting was adjourned and Tori had a wicked grin on her face when she grabbed your arm and hauled you upstairs.
september 20th  ~ friday ~ 9:49 p.m.
On the leather couch in the back of the ATZ living room, Seonghwa sat with his legs stretched out, his entire being taking up the space of three people. With his head laid back on the armrest, he scrolled his phone, mainly Instagram, taking note of the follower counts, the comments on posts, and what people were saying about either house. 
Yeji was trending, she posted her outfit of the day this morning with the hashtag #presidentialvibes on her story. Her groupies were buzzing, dissecting the clothes, breaking down the hair, curious if it were her same routine or if she had changed it because of the new color.
Wooyoung’s name popped up somewhere, he was always posting. This time it was of the view from the window of his education and society class, the sociology major keeping up with his followers, commenting back to them whenever they’d leave him something of interest. San was actively under his posts, the boy was next in line in the amount of followers he had, but only because every single post was of him half naked. Thank god he was smart otherwise there’d be an issue there, even though he was usually the one to pull people into the house and get them hooked.
Mingi posted about his homework confusing him, saying he needed help, Jongho, like Yeji, posted a fit check, and Yeosang had a photo up in the last two days of him and this girl he’d started seeing. She wasn’t a part of ITZ, something he was keen on. They shared a major, that medical shit. Her profile was quiet, just as the other ITZ girls were.
As was Yunho.
In fact, he’d been keeping a low profile in the house since last week. The guys would see him leave for class, and then he’d come back and camp out in his bedroom.
Last Friday was curious. Seonghwa had Aurora by his side, as he should, and then she was gone. And then, Yunho was gone. The house, entirely too crowded, made it impossible to track them down anyway, until Aurora appeared and asked for her phone back. Tentative to hand it over, intrigued by how fast she was moving, Seonghwa reluctantly handed it back to her and mumbled, “You need to put a passcode on that.”
But, she didn’t hear him.
She was flustered, overwhelmed, and all the more flushed.
Seonghwa knew that face.
Seonghwa knew why Yunho was avoiding everybody.
“Hey,” Soul said, out of breath, rushing into the living room with his phone out. There was little movement around the house this evening, Hongjoong was working on plans for the recruitment dinner with Mingi, and the others were hunched over their homework scattered around the property. Yeosang was on the couch through the archway, nose deep in a textbook with the occasional break to send a text message with a smile.
“You’re back quick,” Seonghwa said, sitting up, dropping his feet to the floor. Soul, grinning wide, shoved his phone into the vice president's hand. “No way you made it happen.”
The freshman took two steps back and propped his hands on his hips, finally able to take a breath to steady his racing heart. “I did, watch that, listen to that.”
Seonghwa eyed him, then tapped the play button on the video.
Aurora’s voice filled the air.
“If I’m picking up what I think you’re putting down… Soul, I have feelings for somebody else. What you want won’t work, it won’t happen.”
“Seonghwa?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Soul. You’re cool, you’ve got a lot going for you. And you’re adorable.”
“I am?” 
Seonghwa’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared up at Soul, the freshman laughing to himself. “She did it herself.”
Soul threw a hand toward the phone. “You were right, she’s easy.”
“Watch it,” Seonghwa sneered, and Soul planted his hands behind his back.
“She kissed my cheek,” he said. “It wasn’t an actual one, but it still counts, right?”
Seonghwa paused the video halfway through Aurora telling Soul how to live his life, like the boy would actually listen. “I’ll count it.”
“Thank you,” Soul sighed, tipping his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Seonghwa looked him up and down.
“You tell me she’s shown interest?”
Soul looked at his domineer and nodded. “Not in her words, but…”
“In her eyes?” Seonghwa asked, and Soul continued to bob his head. “Yeah, she does that,” he breathed, handing the freshman his phone. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind ending up in bed with you.” The corners of his lips perked up, and Seonghwa glared at him. “Wipe that look off your face, are you stupid? She’s mine, you heard her say it.”
“Right,” Soul shook his face clean. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Seonghwa clenched his jaw before he said, “Go home, Soul. Come back tomorrow, I’ll have something else for you.”
“This clears senior year though, right?” Soul asked, anxiously awaiting the answer.
“Just about,” Seonghwa said, and the boy sighed in relief. “You’ve passed with San, and you’re almost through with me. Gonna need you to keep up this act with her, okay?” Soul smiled. “An act, Shota. Don’t get ballsy, do you remember what you said? She’s easy.”
“Yeah,” Soul said, quietly. “I got it.”
“Go back to the dorms. I’ll send you her location tomorrow if she goes out.”
Seonghwa watched him hurry from the house, giving Yeosang a sly goodbye as he passed him. An act. One Seonghwa knew Aurora and the freshman who moved with his dick instead of his brain wouldn’t be able to hold themselves back from.
Picking his own phone back up, he opened his messages and smirked.
[seonghwa]: Soul’s in her head now. Can’t confirm if last Friday is true or not still. Will let you know when I find out.
[hbic]: You need to recruit him.
[seonghwa]: He’s proving himself. If he can get her here, he’s an automatic in. His GPA sucks.
[hbic]: Keep her hooked. Have they been talking?
[seonghwa]: No proof. Haven’t seen Yunho in days.
[hbic]: Get Soul to find out. Otherwise we find out at the recruitment dinner.
[seonghwa]: Yes ma’am.
[hbic]: I’ll update Yeji.
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NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3
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tayloralisonswift · 3 months
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perhaps my hottest take of all time is that while the himym finale sucked, it did not make sense for barney and robin to be together forever and i like how it ended for barney, even if he did recede to his creepy old ways for a while first. the following is probably gonna be an essay, sorry.
so first of all, the main reason why barney and robin couldn’t be together for the rest of their lives wasn’t even why they ended things (though i suppose you could say in a way barney wanted to settle down somewhere and robin wanted to keep traveling, which is symbolic.) it’s because of children. robin categorically does not want kids, something which is impressed upon us a million times, and it would be out of character for her to randomly want to put aside her career to be a mother. barney, meanwhile, longs for the family he never had. he wants to be a father, ever since his not-a-father’s-day karaoke session, just like he wants his father to be a father to him. at one point when he borrows his brother’s baby, he and ted both agree that they have to wait for the real thing. character-wise, it wouldn’t surprise me if barney wanted to bury this in order to be with robin, but it would feel like an unfinished plot thread. barney was always meant to be a dad. thus, they were ultimately incompatible.
however! that doesn’t mean their marriage was wrong or bad or out of character. when they tell their friends, they stress it was not a failure, just a short marriage, which reminds me of jack gilbert’s poem about divorce which says “everyone forgets that icarus also flew.” i don’t think their relationship was a waste. the love was there! it wasn’t enough and it didn’t change anything but it was there.
so why do i hate the finale then? ted and robin. putting aside their differences and the contradictions there, ted is loyal. ted often sucks a lot, but he is loyal to his friends, and barney is his friend. you cannot tell me that ted would get together with his bro’s ex wife. it’s a literal bro code violation, which we know barney really cares about. it would, essentially, rip their friendship apart. especially because the marriage ended on “the love was there” terms - barney will probably always love robin.
then there’s robin’s characterization post-divorce, where she is regretting ever marrying barney and suggesting that she chose the wrong guy, which is shitty of her. mostly she is whiny about ted finally being happy when there have been so many instances where she could’ve been with ted again and chose not to be. this robin is pathetic. at the very least she’s an awful friend. (like it’s not lily’s fault you miss your ex.)
and tracey deserves better than for robin to usurp her story! tracey’s story matters, it’s the reason we started watching, she is The Mother! another hot take but i can see pros and cons to her dying, mostly cons (because hello, we’ve been waiting all this time and you just kill her off??) but i do think it makes sense narratively that ted would sit down his kids on his own and tell them about their late mother. plus that scene where he runs to her door to have a few extra days with her is probably the most excruciating moment on television. (sorry as if it’s my fault.) but i do agree with the general consensus that killing her off in service of ted and robin was shitty.
in my dream finale, barney and robin are together for longer, maybe five years or so. barney goes back to dating and has his child, including the sweet moment where he says that speech he never thought he’d say. robin travels the world. she comes back to new york and she and barney reconcile enough that the gang gets back together and it’s sort of awkward but they commit to it anyway. tracey does die and ted only loves her until his dying breath, or she doesn’t and they grow old on the front porch together. marshall and lily’s story stays the same except robin is a better friend.
wow i’m so glad i decided to spend my morning writing something no one will read! but if you were reading 1. ily 2. don’t kill me for my hot takes <3
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pedrito-friskito · 2 years
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strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader
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during - part five
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
and then it all comes crashing down.
a/n: outbreak day! plus the time leading up. I couldn’t bring myself to write joel’s side of the tragedy, but here we are. the start of “during”. potentially a little bit of canon-divergence from here until the “after”, but I’m trying to stick with that information we have, while filling in the gaps for reader’s story. (“after” will be when they leave boston with ellie)
word count: 4.4k
warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, fluff, a super brief mention of 9/11, this is definitely not as sad as part four but it’s also involves outbreak day so there’s that, canon-typical violence, death, yes I am turning reader into a badass and I will not apologize.
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You never really stop thinking about him. And he never really stops being apart of your life, not truly.
He’s the first person you call, when the Towers fall in New York, not a week after you’ve started your internship. You see it on television, standing in line to get your boss his daily latte, and you pull out your cell phone without a second thought, dialling Joel’s number. “Have you seen the news?”
A freak snowstorm stops you from getting home for Christmas that year; the airport is a disaster to get through after everything that’s happened, so you take a few days off to drive it instead, but you can’t even get out of the state, let alone across the country. So your holidays that year are spent with local friends you’ve made at work, calling your family on Christmas Day and New Year’s.
You try to call Joel on New Year’s, to wish him a good year as the clock strikes twelve, but the call goes to voicemail, and your friends are counting down the ball drop as you ramble into the phone.
Hey, it’s me! Just calling to say Happy New Year, hope you’re having a good night. And hope I get to see more of you in 2002. That year sounds so funny, doesn’t it? Talk to you soon, Joel Miller. Bye.
You almost say it, the words creeping up the back of your throat. The missing him hasn’t abated, even with the time and the distance. You sleep in one of the flannel shirts you’d stolen every night, and you’ll admit that you cried a little when you had to wash them, realizing that it would wash the scent of him away almost completely.
The phone calls get more sporadic, and you don’t blame him. There’s only an hour time difference between Texas and Massachusetts, but it feels like much more. You’re off-kilter from one another, always seeming to catch each other’s voicemail instead of the real person.
You manage to make it home for the Fourth of July the following summer, your internship having turned into a real job, but a real job that’s kept you busier than ever for the first half of the year. Your boss is, blessedly, understanding, and lets you take two weeks to go back to Austin.
He meets you at the airport, your name scrawled on a piece of paper, a bouquet of daisies in his grip, and you nearly burst into tears right there in the terminal. Your entire two weeks is filled with him, though you try to split your time between the Miller’s house and your own, letting your sister talk your ear off more than she already does on the phone, taking a few afternoons to help your dad around the hardware store. But almost every night finds you in Joel’s bed.
You all go to the park for fireworks on the Fourth. Your parents are re-introduced to Joel, though you’re both adamantly just calling each other “good friends” — which earns you an eye roll from your sister. Sarah runs around the field with the other kids, waving sparklers and giggling like mad. You stick close to Joel, the three of you sitting on a blanket in the grass, and you watch the firework together, your head resting on his shoulder, his arm swung around your waist. Sarah’s too preoccupied with the firework display to notice.
When you get home the next morning, your sister hands you a polaroid, the words July 4th 2002 written in sharpie along the border. It’s you and Joel, backlit, your head on his shoulder as a gigantic white firework explodes in the night sky. You don’t know what to say.
“I know you never wanted to leave him,” she says, and you nearly burst into tears as you hug her.
It’s another tearful goodbye when your two weeks are up, and you’re a fool to think it’d be any easier than the first time. You say goodbye to your parents first, and Joel picks you up in his truck, taking you to the airport. He kisses you deeply outside, burying his hands in your hair and squeezing you tight before letting you go.
And always the same farewell, the same thing he said when you first left, the same thing he’s said at the end of every phone call.
“Take care of yourself, baby.”
+
You meet Dean through a friend of a friend.
It’s almost Christmas, 2002, and you haven’t been home since July. Your phone calls with Joel have dwindled to almost non-existent; you just don’t have the time. Work is busy, to the point where you find yourself still sat at your desk until nearly midnight some nights. And you’re still missing each other, voicemails left occasionally, the missed calls stacking up through the week until it’s the weekend and you feel too tired to put yourself through the heartbreak of hearing his voice.
Hey, darlin’, it’s me. I keep missin’ ya, I guess. Hope you’re doin’ okay. Don’t work too hard, yeah? Been thinking about you a lot and I just…Take care of yourself.
It felt like a goodbye. Standing in your kitchen, takeout spread out on your counter, chopsticks in hand. He hadn’t said it, not specifically. There was no I can’t do this anymore, no this hurts too much, doesn’t it hurt you too? But it still felt like a finality, of sorts.
You took the takeout to bed with a bottle of wine.
That weekend, your friends drag you out to some party. A housewarming thing for someone you don’t know, a fancy loft on the other side of the city. It’s as good a reason as any to get out of your head, throwing on a new dress and a bit of makeup. You do shots in your apartment before piling into a cab, tipsy by the time you get to the party. There’s lots of faces you don’t know, your friends pulling you through the crowds, one of them grinning at you.
“You have to meet Dean.”
He’s tall. Sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes and he’s a lawyer. He laughs at your jokes and gets you another drink when you finish your first. He’s from Boston; a pure-bred, he tells you, and chuckles when you ask to see his pedigree.
You wake up in his bed the next day, your dress and shoes scattered on the floor of his stupidly nice apartment, head throbbing with a hangover, guilt bubbling up on your tongue like bile. Dean makes you coffee and calls you a cab, gives you a business card with his number on it. “God, this feels like a business deal,” he says, shaking his head, nearly taking the card back. “I can find a takeout menu or something, write my number on that instead.”
“No, this is good,” you laugh, and the guilt mixes with something strangely giddy when he kisses you goodbye.
When you get home, you wrap yourself in the flannel you’d taken from Joel, and weep. Part of you whispers that you shouldn’t feel guilty, that Joel’s all the way across the country, that you two aren’t technically together to begin with, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest.
Your friend calls in the early afternoon, and when she hears the crack in your voice, she’s on your doorstep not thirty minutes later. You spill your guts — recount the story of you and Joel, show her the polaroid from the Fourth of July, tell her everything, until you’re crying on your couch again.
“Honey, maybe you should talk to him,” she tells you, and you know she’s right, but the idea of talking to Joel just makes your chest hurt more. “This isn’t good for either of you, holding on like this when you can’t be together. Talk to him.”
Joel beats you to the punch, calling you shortly after your friend has left. “Hey, finally got you instead of your voicemail.”
“Hah, yeah,” you reply, sinking a little deeper into the couch. “Sorry I keep missing you.”
“S’okay,” he mumbles, and it only hurts more when you can almost see him in your head, sitting on his couch or at the edge of his bed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” you lie, wiping the wet from your cheeks. “Just busy lately, y’know?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, then pauses. “You sure you’re okay?”
You inhale deeply, feeling the air rattle its way through your lungs. “Joel, I met someone.”
It’s a long moment, before he says anything, so long you think you’ve lost him for a second, that he hung up. But then, “That’s good.”
“Is it?”
“No,” he says instantly, and you both let out watery laughs. “No, but it…It is good. You’re all the way out there and I’m here and…Missin’ you, not havin’ you around, it hurts, y’know?”
“I do,” you agree, biting into your lower lip when it wobbles. “I miss you too, Joel, it’s just—”
“I know, baby,” he replies, and the tone in his voice makes your eyes slip shut, tears pouring down your cheeks. “I gotta go, I promised Sarah movie night. We’ll….we’ll talk soon, alright?” A pause. “Take care of yourself.”
The line goes dead for real then, and you launch your phone across the room, groaning when it lands on the carpet and doesn’t smash to pieces. You bury yourself in the pillows on the couch, and just cry.
Dean calls the following week, and asks you out to dinner. Dinner evolves into more than that, more dates and more conversation. He works two blocks down from you, and brings you coffee every morning on his way to his office. He takes you to museums and art galleries and introduces you to his friends. It’s easy to fall for him, and you let yourself do it. He kisses you at midnight on New Year’s, whispers that 2003 is going to be the best year of your lives.
You have no idea how wrong he will turn out to be.
+
It’s September 26th, 2003. It’s your twenty-fifth birthday.
It starts out like a normal day; as normal as it can be, lately. You’ve made a point to ignore the news as best you can, letting Dean recap it for you when he gets home each day, filling you in on the water cooler talk that you only half listen to.
Dean’s up and gone when you wake up, but there’s a birthday card beside your pillow, a cartoon cake with a silly face. You’re another year older… And the inside reads: and other year cuter! Happy Birthday! It’s cheesy and you scoff out a laugh, getting up and going about your morning routine. A fire truck screams down the road when you walk out of the building, cop cars trailing after it, but you think nothing of it; sirens are a common occurrence in the city.
It’s a short walk from your apartment — the apartment you now share with Dean, the pair of you having relocated somewhere that was closer to both your jobs — to work, and you stop by your favourite coffee shop, only slightly disappointed when they don’t have the raspberry scones you like. “It’s a supply chain thing,” the girl behind the counter tells you with a shrug. “They haven’t been able to get ingredients in for weeks. I’m just glad we have coffee.”
“That makes two of us,” you agree, taking your cup with a nod. “Have a good day!”
“You, too!”
There’s a big bouquet of roses waiting on your desk, the card signed with Dean’s name, and the other girls ooh and ahh at the arrangement. One of them asks you if you think he’ll propose, and you have to resist the urge to sprint in the opposite direction.
Dean calls on your lunch break, tells you he’s already pre-ordered from your favourite Thai place, and it’ll be waiting for you when you get home from your post-work drinks with your friends. When he tells you he loves you, it still makes your chest ache, just a touch.
You still think about Joel. It’s hard not to. After that last call, when you told him you’d met Dean, you called back a few days later, unable to stop yourself. There were apologies, from both him and you, and the conversation ended with a promise that you’d still stay in touch, that it would still be friendly between you, and that maybe someday could be an option, if the time was right, but you wouldn’t stand in each other’s way.
So you’ve stayed in touch. The phone calls are still more sporadic than anything, but it’s always nice to hear his voice, and he always has a joke to crack. And, consistent Joel Miller, at the end of every phone call: “Take care of yourself, darlin’.”
You get a surprising amount of work done that day, your friends appearing at five o’clock on the dot and dragging you away from your computer. You let them buy you happy hour drinks and put a Birthday Princess tiara on your head, laugh your way through the evening until it’s almost nine. You thank you friends and leave the bar, and think as you walk past one of the little corner store grocery shops that you could really use a chocolate bar.
You’re walking down the toiletries aisle, the basket hanging from your elbow filled with not just chocolate, but a few other things you couldn’t resist, when your phone rings, an Austin area code flashing on the screen.
“I didn’t know today was your birthday,” Joel says by way of hello, and you giggle. “How have I known you this long and not known that you and I have the same birthday?”
“You never asked,” you answer, reaching for a tissue box with a fun pattern, “and it never came up, really. Wait, today’s your birthday too?”
“Thirty-six and still breathin’,” he confirms, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I stopped by the hardware store today for a few things, your dad told me.”
“Ahh.” Your parents had called you just before you’d left for work. “That store must be so boring without me in it.”
“It really is,” Joel agrees, and then his voice drops. “No one around to make out with in the aisles.” A beat, and then. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you say quickly, shaking your head even though you know he can’t see it, the memory of being pressed between the shelves of paint cans and Joel Miller making your face heat. “It’s a good memory.”
“It is,” he agrees, making a little humming noise. “So, boyfriend got big plans for you tonight?”
“Thai food and a movie,” you tell him, grabbing a bottle of toilet cleaner. “Just left the bar, had some drinks with my work friends. Never really been a big birthday person, y’know?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, darlin’.”
“What about you, Joel Miller?” you ask, heading down the next aisle. A lot of the shelves are empty, and it makes your brow furrow. “What big birthday plans do you have this evening?”
“Hah, none,” he replies. “Working a double with Tommy, just took a break now. Told Sarah I’d be home by nine, but I don’t know if that’ll work out. They gave us the wrong size for the headers and…” He trails off. “That doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”
“I’d listen to you read the phone book,” you joke. “At least get yourself a cake? Something like that? If I’d known we shared the same birthday I would have had my sister bring something over for you.”
“Sarah made me breakfast, got me out of bed on time. That’s all I need, really.”
“Is it?”
You don’t mean the question to sound as heavy as it does, and silence hangs between you for a long moment before you stutter out an apology. Joel’s quick to change the subject.
“Boyfriend is still your boyfriend, right? No ring on your finger yet?”
“You know, you’re the second person to bring that up today,” you say, heading down the next aisle. It’s just as empty as the one before, and your confusion deepens. “You want the truth?”
“Generally.”
“If he asked, I don’t think I’d say yes.” Heat rises in your face, and you stutter again. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“You can tell me anything,” he replies, and there’s a softness in his tone that you recognize, making warmth spread through your chest. “I’m always here for you, darlin’. I know things are different now, but I’m still here.”
“I appreciate that.”
You hear Tommy’s voice in the background, and Joel curses under his breath. “I gotta go. Enjoy your night. Happy Birthday.”
“You, too. Happy Birthday, Joel,” you reply, a smile in your voice, and then the line clicks off.
You loop through the rest of the aisles, sliding your phone back into your pocket. When you ask the cashier about the empty shelves, you get the same answer you’d gotten at the coffee shop. “Supply chain issues.”
The apartment is quiet when you get inside, tossing your keys into the bowl beside the door. The Thai food is sitting on the counter, as promised, and you set your grocery bags down beside it, stealing a few noodles before calling for Dean. “Honey, I’m home!”
There’s no response, and you assume he must be in the shower, so you pad down the hall. The bedroom light is off, moonlight flooding through the window, and as you step into the doorway, you see him, standing there, facing the window. His hands are at his sides, and as you watch, his hand twitches, the movement making your brow furrow.
“Dean?” you call, taking a half-step forward. In an instant, something feels wrong, and worry rises in your chest, makes your heart racket against your ribs. “Babe, what’s going on?”
He turns then, so fast you can’t even blink before it happens. And he just…stares. There’s no light in his eyes, just a dead look that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You say his name again, the worry seeping into your voice, and then he snarls.
“Fuck.”
You don’t understand what’s happening, but your body seems to react of it’s own accord. Dean lunges toward you, an inhuman sound falling out of him, and your eyes skirt around, looking for something to protect yourself with as he scrambles over the bed, limbs flailing, those dead eyes boring into you. Your hand flashes out, curling around the leather-wrapped handle of the baseball bat, and as you’re knocked to the ground, you use it as a barrier, shoving the metal against his chest.
His face is all wrong. It’s not just the dead eyes; his teeth are yellowed and his gums blackened as he snaps at you, trying to claw at you. White marks have risen all over his face, spreading out like a map beneath his skin.
What the fuck is going on?
You manage to plant your foot on his chest, and shove with all your might, yelling as the movement makes your knees twinge. He doesn’t go far, but it’s enough to get him off of you, and you scramble backwards, throwing the door shut as you run for the kitchen, the bat held tightly in your grasp. Heart racing, you find the biggest knife you can in the kitchen, sucking down hurried breaths. You’re in shock.
There’s a flash of red outside the balcony door, and you turn to see flames explode from the building across from yours. On the streets below, cars start to crash into each other, the sound of sirens twice as loud. You can hear people screaming, even through the glass.
A loud bang pulls you back into the apartment, and you turn just as Dean comes sprinting down the hall, losing his balance and skidding across the carpet. You throw the kitchen knife as he lunges for you, but it misses, the blade bouncing off his chest and sliding beneath the coffee table. A guttural growl echoes through the apartment, and when he leaps at you, you swing.
Your first hit smacks his shoulder. It doesn’t do much, but he lets out a pained yowl and when you swing again, there’s a sickening crack. He swipes at you, lunging again as you stumble backwards through the living room, the couch toppling over as you both fall onto it. His fingers dig into your shoulder and you scream, pain radiating through your arm, but you tighten your grip on the bat and ram the end of it into his face.
Another growl, another swing. You manage to get to your feet, blood pouring down your arm, painting your blouse crimson, and you put the kitchen island between you and him, moving quickly, keeping the bat held high.
When he jumps again, you swing. Hard. The bat connects with his temple, his neck cracking loudly as his head snaps to the side, and he slumps to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth. The metal rings as you drop the bat, collapsing onto the kitchen floor a moment later, blinding grabbing for one of the dishrags hanging from the stove, covering your shoulder with it and clamping your hand over the wound.
Why is this happening?
You’re not quite sure how long you’re sat there, curled against the cabinets. The bleeding on your shoulder slows, but doesn’t stop completely, and you’re starting to feel lightheaded. Not just the blood loss, you know, but the shock. Dean’s body has stopped twitching, but there’s something seeping out of his mouth, curling across the tile. When you spot the movement, you’re on your feet in a second, blinking past the momentary wooziness, grabbing the bat again.
When you click on the television, a loud beep echoes, nothing but a black screen, and you try to change the channel, but it’s the same on every one. Finally, the beep ends, and a robotic voice takes its place.
…indoors. Law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions. Stay indoors…
Over and over again.
Your arm is pulsing, the rag on your shoulder wet with blood. You need to clean it, you think. You need some water, you need to—
The phone starts ringing. Your phone. Cell phone. Where you left it, in your purse. Your purse is by the door, across the apartment. You have to walk around Dean to get there, and you go slow, your eyes glued to his unmoving form. The bat is still in your hand, the end of it dragging over the carpet as you walk towards the door. Another metallic noise when it hits hardwood.
Your eyes are still on Dean as you dig in your purse, on the thing still coming out of his mouth, crawling along the grout lines in the tile. Out, out, out, you need to get out, you need to get away, you need to—
Your fingers close around your cell. Hit the button, bring it to your ear.
“Are you safe?” Joel barks, and you nearly drop the phone, the sound of his voice slamming you back into your head, your breath hitching so hard you almost choke. “Baby, where are you?”
“Home,” you cry, leaning against the wall, gripping the bat so hard your knuckles hurt. “I-I got home and Dean, he just…he…I…” You wheeze, your breath not enough, your head feeling lighter, your vision spotting with black. “He’s dead. I’m bleeding.”
“It’s everywhere,” he says, his voice low, and he keeps talking, but you don’t think he’s talking to you. You space out, your gaze glued to the body on your floor, until Joel says your name. “Why are you bleeding? What happened?”
“He…” you trail off, your eyes focusing on Dean’s bloody knuckles, limp on the kitchen floor. “He grabbed me, he…he was trying to bite me.”
“Did he?”
“No,” you say, your voice sounding a bit more sure. You shake your head, pressing your palm against your shoulder. The pain spikes, but it helps, clears your head a bit. “It’s a scratch. Deep.”
“You need to clean it, you hear me?” Joel says. “Patch yourself up, baby, all right? You have a first aid kit?”
You drop the bat, pressing the back of your hand against your forehead. You’re shaking. “In the bathroom.”
“Good, go, do it now. I’m not hanging up until you do.”
You reach for the bat again, use it as a prop to get back to your feet. You cast Dean’s still form one more glance before retreating down the hallway. He’d burst through the bedroom door, and wood splinters cover the floor, the door still half on its hinge, split down the middle.
“Joel, why is this happening?” you ask, your voice climbing, fear taking over. You get into the bathroom, momentarily shaken by your appearance in the mirror. Your hair wild, the blood smeared along your chest and neck, your stained and torn blouse. “What is happening?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, and the thread of fear in his voice makes tears spring in your eyes. “But I want you to listen to me, okay? You patch yourself up, you grab what you can, and you run. You understand? Get in your car and get out of the city, as fast as you can. You don’t wait, you don’t stop for anyone, and you just keep going.”
You nod for a moment before you realize he can’t see you. “Okay. What do I…?”
“I’ll find you, baby,” he says, and the surety in his voice makes everything in you ache. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m—”
Static. Dead air. Gone.
“Joel? No, come back, Joel, please—” You stare at the phone, try to redial the number, hit the button over and over and over and over. No signal, the screen informs you.
Nothing. Nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat, the rapid pulse against your ribs, the breaths that seem to rattle through your lungs. Outside of that, silence.
You slam the phone down, slam your hands against the bathroom sink.
“Joel!”
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lillypad910 · 1 year
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His Angel
Pairing: Bi! Eddie Munson x Bi! Christian (Baptist) raised! plus sized! girly! f! Reader
Word count: 10k
Warnings: (this is not pre-read, so it may have errors) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, protected sex (they wrap it), fluff (lots of it mixed in), reader identifies as an atheist after childhood trauma dealing with religious beliefs, pet names (Angel [main], Sweetheart, Baby, Baby girl), use of (y/n) but only with family members.
Summary: You were always a good girl, a good Christian girl who wanted to be loved by your family. But growing up in that house was hard. With two older brothers way older than you, and parents already in their late 50’s, your relationship with your family is… difficult. You were taught that what you are is wrong, but then you fell in love with a certain guitarist who makes you remember that you are worthy of love.
A/n: Came up with this idea a couple days ago (literally right after my last post about having writer’s block), and just went to town on it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!
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All photos found on Pinterest
You remember your childhood vividly, it wasn’t ‘bad’ for the most of it. Church was a constant play in the workings of your family home. Your mother a youth worker within the church (your church didn’t actually allow her to hold ‘pastor’ as her term), your father an old choir boy, now working a normal 9-5 job in an office building. Your family attended church every Wednesday and Sunday, every Easter, thanksgiving, and Christmas. There was no alcohol allowed in your house, not even during the holidays.
You have two older brothers, both of them were closer in age, only five years apart, while you were ten years apart from the youngest of the two, so you grew up practically on your own. You were raised primarily by your older parents, bother already reaching their 40’s when you were born.
Your oldest brother, Logan, once said in a fit of anger that you were an accident. You didn’t understand at the time, but now that you’re older, you get it.
You’ll never forget that one fated day you sat in your room, you had just turned thirteen a few weeks before. Sarah, your friend from church, someone you’ve known since you were infants, sat across from you. You were making friendship bracelets.
There was something about Sarah, she was just so… so pretty. Her long blond hair always perfectly curled, her gorgeous green eyes you could swear you could stare into for hours.
Elijah, your other friend, a boy from school, had told you that you shouldn’t act on any of your feelings for Sarah. His daddy had told him it was wrong to feel that way, to feel… attracted… to the same gender. But you couldn’t help it.
You had spent many nights sleeping over at Sarah’s and her at yours. As children you would hold hands on the playground. Your parents thought it was cute how close you two were. But as you sat in front of her that day, that beautiful day. The sun setting outside, the shades of purples and blues mixing with the warm orange, of the last golden rays highlighting her hair perfectly. You couldn’t help it.
You kissed her.
It happened so fast, you leaned over, capturing her lips with yours before pulling away. Your heart raced in your chest, beating faster, and faster, and faster. Her beautiful green eyes widened, her expression of shock was even pretty. Did she feel this way too? Did you act to fast? Before you could say anything to her, she quickly stood and ran out of the room. You heard her yell out for your mom as her foot steps made it down the stairs.
Oh no. Oh no no no no!
Your hand slapped against your chest, your heart not slowing as you began to panic. You read it all wrong, all wrong!
It’s all gone wrong. Elijah was right. I should have kept quiet. Held back.
Maybe I can play it off?
Your mother came barging into your room as you picked back up the bracelet quickly. “Hi, Momma!” You gave her a smile. It was so fake, but you just beg the lord she won’t notice. “Dewdrop,” your mother’s voice that day was stern, “did you-“ she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath, as if trying to calm her emotions, “Did you… kiss… Sarah…?”
Your brain had scattered, terrified how she was gonna react. You took too long.
She had snatched you off the rug before you could even say anything else, dragging you by your ear and down the stairs. Her hand raised before you before you could react.
Smack!
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It been years since that day, as you now sit at your desk in your room, the pink floral wallpaper from your childhood always and forever familiar.
Tap! Tap!
You look over at your window, your eyes widening as you spot the long curly mop of hair even through the darkness outside. Quickly making your way to your window, opening the pane carefully, your heart racing as you are greeted by the softest, most comforting brown eyes you ever did see. “Eddie!” You whisper yell at him, your voice filled with concern and worry, “what are you doing here? You know my parents can’t see you!”
Eddie is all smiles, his eyes glancing down to your lips, “So? I thought you liked the chance of getting caught?” You roll your eyes, happy you are allowed to lock your door now that you’re older. “So…” he grips his hand tighter on the windowsill, “gonna let your boyfriend in? Or?” You immediately step back, muttering a sorry as you help him throw himself into your room without knocking anything over.
After straightening out his leather jacket and denim vest, he steps closer to you, reaching out and gripping at your nightgown, balling the fabric into his fists. “How’s my beautiful girlfriend?” You can’t help but smile at him, “I’m ok,” your hands slowly move up his chest, your eyes watching your fingers cling at his leather jacket, “how about you, Romeo?” He smiles, leaning in and giving your rosy cheek a peck, “I’ve been good, bored though.” “Oh?” “Mhmm,” His lips pressed soft kisses against your skin, getting closer and closer to your lips, before stopping. “You fucking tease…” you pout, gripping a little tighter at his jacket, making him chuckle. “Oh I’m sorry, did my good girl just swear? In her family home?” “Shut up.”
He pulls away and drops down onto your bed, spreading out across your powder blue duvet. “Come here,” he gestures for you to come lay with him, but you do something he doesn’t entirely expect.
You lift your nightgown, giving him the smallest glimpse of your white panties, the little blue bow on the front catching his eyes’ attention, before climbing over his legs. Your legs sit on either side of his hips, your center lowering just on top of his crotch, making him let out a soft groan. “Happy?” You ask, grinding your hips down and he grips at them quickly, steadying you. “Fucking swear, if you keep doing that-“ “What? You’ll do what, Munson?” Your voice is sugar sweet, faking innocence so well.
“Fuck, gonna make me cream my pants, Angel.” He sits up, adjusting his position so his hands are down on the bed behind him, propping him up. “Oh? Am I too much for you- Ah!” You gasp, cutting your sentence short as you’re flipped over, quickly looking at the door before back up at the guy on top of you. Eddie smirks down at you, his eyes glancing down at your lips. “Never,” he kisses you quickly, “ever,” another kiss, “think you’re too much for me.” He kisses your nose this time, before nuzzling it with his own.
He softly kisses you again, his lips pressing gently to yours, but slowly he picks up, kissing a little more desperately. His lips are slightly chapped, scratching a bit against your perfectly smooth lips. Your heart picks up, breath becoming more unsteady with every smooch. His hands guide down to your hips, pulling your nightgown up and to your waist, making your panties entirely visible. He pulls away, tilting his head down to the view he so desperately loves. “Could stare at you all day, Angel.” He gives you one final kiss before beginning to kiss down your neck. His fingers curl around the hem of your underwear, pulling them down slowly as his kisses travel down your clothed chest and bare stomach.
“All mine,” he hums into your skin, “all for me.” He pulls your underwear past your knees, gripping one of your thighs and pulling your shin and foot through the leg hole. “Gonna kill me one day,” he kisses along your lifted thigh. You feel yourself getting wet from his touch, his kisses sending shivers down your spine. He pulls your panties off your other leg, looking back up at your eyes before pocketing the white pair. “Mine now.” You can’t help but giggle at him, not able to count just how many crusty pairs you’ve gotten back weeks later.
His fingers move to your stomach, his palms kneading into your chubby belly like a ball of dough, before moving lower. A soft gasp leaves your lips, sounding like the most beautiful melody Eddie has ever heard as his fingers slip inside you.
Eddie swears he could watch you take his fingers all day. The way your eyebrows scrunch up, your eyes go blown, your thighs try to press together.
He leans down, brushing his nose against your clit. He watches his fingers thrust in and out of you from such close proximity, before licking your folds. Your hand quickly flies up to cover your mouth as you moan, trying to keep quiet with your parents just down the hall.
“E-Eds…!” You gasp, his free hand pressing your legs farther apart, his hips now rutting into your mattress as he buries his face in your cunt, lapping up your arousal. You let out a soft whimper as your toes curl, your hips now lifting off the bed to push into his face. Eddie removes his fingers from you, now gripping under your thighs and around to your hips, pulling your body into his face more. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you feel yourself release, gripping the duvet under you. Your eyes blur over with a few tears from the feeling, still not entirely used to being pushed to this amount of euphoria.
Your legs softly get set on the bed, a wet spot under you as Eddie climbs back up, placing a soft kiss on your stomach before smiling down at you. “Angel,” he reaches up and cups your face, tilting it to look at him, “You still with me?” It came out with a soft laugh, teasing. “Yeah,” you breathe out, breathe still heavy as you come down from the high, “Yeah, I’m here.” He smiles and pulls your nightgown back down, his obvious erection still poking at your thigh.
You sit up, glancing back at your door before turning back to your secret boyfriend. “Sweetheart,” his voice draw you back in, his fingers wrapping around your chin and pulling you against his chest as he leans back against your pillows, “don’t worry so much, you keep glancing at the door like they hear us.” He kisses your cheek, nuzzling into you. You blush as the only thing you can smell is you. “Eddie,” you quietly groan out his name, practically a whisper. He hums, fumbling with the belt to undo it. You blush as he shimmies his pants and boxers down his hips. You tilt your head to the wall, your blush spreading to your ears.
“Angel,” Eddie places his hands on your back, “look at me.” You pull back and look at him, your heart beating fast.
“You can tell me if you want to stop, Sweetheart. You know that.” He kisses your nose, his fingers slowly moving to ball your nightgown up, letting his warm fingers press to your now bare back. “Do you want to stop?” His voice is calm, no judgment present anywhere. “No… I-I wanna…” your eyes glance at your mirror, giving you sight of your door. Eddie’s eyes soften.
“Angel, you were being all confident earlier, now you’re shrinking and keep looking to make sure your door is shut.” He kisses your nose, making you melt a little into him. He hesitates for a moment, “is it… because of back then…?” You freeze, immediately your head snaps to look at him, his deep brown eyes staring at you with such love.
“Do you wanna sneak out…?” You ask, trying to dodge the reality of your trauma. Eddie’s eyes narrow, “Oh no, you’re talking about it now. You have no choice.” “What? No!” You whisper yell. “Angel,” Eddie pushes you off of him a little, making your eyes widen, the fear of rejection again banging on your heart. He pulls up his pants again, before pulling you back onto him, immediately shushing those thoughts, “Talk to me.”
“I just-“ you hesitate, you let out a deep breath, “I’m scared…” Eddie’s eyes soften, his hands sliding down to your hips, grounding you. “What of?” “Here.” The word comes out tense, your discomfort obvious, but not from him or his actions, just the place. Your room. Your house.
“Baby,” Eddie rubs his thumb over your hip, “We can pick this up tomorrow, we don’t have to-“ “No!” You immediately wince and cover your mouth at your raised voice. “I-I mean…”
A thud comes from across the house. You both freeze.
Shit.
You both scurry to get up, you pulling down your nightgown as he quickly goes to hide in your closet behind your door. You quickly shut your window, unlock your door, and sit at your desk, immediately jumping back up from the cold feeling on your —you shockingly forgot— exposed lower body. You don’t have time to grab another pair of panties so you just tuck your night gown under you and sit.
A knock comes on your door immediately after you sit. “Yes?” You call out. The door opens and your mother pops her head in, “Did you make a loud noise?” You just nod.
“Yeah sorry, I, uh, messed up my paper. Did I wake you?” She hums in response, “technically, but it’s alright. It’s almost midnight, Darling—” the nickname makes you cringe. It’s the same one she called you that day. “— make sure you get some sleep.” She smiles at you, before shutting your door and you hear steps heading back down the hall. You finally let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.
Eddie sticks his head out, making sure the coast is clear before stepping out. “That was terrifying.” “Yeah no shit, Eds.” You tell him as he steps closer to you, he places his hand on your head and leans down a bit to kiss your hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” You look up at him, “but-!” “No buts, Angel. You’re too stressed here, I’m gonna sneak you out of class tomorrow and take you somewhere more private. Then we can finish what we started.” He lets you lay your head onto his stomach for a moment.
“Fine…” you hate that he’s right. Your room hasn’t been a ‘safe space’ since you were thirteen. He gives your head one more kiss before climbing back out your window.
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You and Eddie run out of the school, hand in hand, adrenaline pumping through you as you both book it to his van. It was only 12:35pm, luckily for both of you, your lunch had just started, so it was easy to walk out of ‘class’, class being the cafeteria with an annoyed teacher by the doors who doesn’t care that you leave.
You both slip into his van, giggling as you pull out one of the cassettes from his glove compartment and pop it in, Metallica immediately filling the van. “So, I was thinking, food first, maybe milkshakes at Benny’s, then maybe park somewhere?” Eddie pulls the car out of the spot in the lot. “Sounds good to me.”
You pull up to Benny’s, immediately seeing the girl you’ve had a solid crush on for two years was working. “Eds, it’s her!” You practically slap your hand over his chest. “Holly shit- uh, do I look ok? Cute?” “Always.” Eddie’s smile was genuine, but you glare at him slightly, “I don’t want ‘always’ I need an opinion!” Eddie chuckles as he watches you step out of his car, straightening your dress. “Sweetheart, I feel like she’s not gonna care-“ “Shh, don’t ruin it.”
You both step into the diner, Eddie holding the door open for you. “Take a seat anywhere!” Her voice calls out. You both take a booth by the window, Eddie giving you the side that best angles you to always be able to see her. “You’re always so supportive and I love you for it.” He smiles at your admission. “Can’t do anything without my permission, Angel.” “I know.”
“Hi, I’m Chris, I’ll be your server,” the girl you practically drool over pulls out a pen and her serving note pad, “What can I get you both?” She asks, glancing at you first before Eddie. Eddie watches you, your eyes practically glittering and he tries not to laugh. “A double cheeseburger for me, please. No onions. Sparkle over there will have a short stake of chocolate chip pancakes, two scrambled eggs with cheese and a bowl of grits, butter and cheese in that too.” The girl, Chris, smiles at him, impressed he knows the girl across from him—you—so well. “And to drink?” She just looks to Eddie this time, “Two chocolate milkshakes, and two waters. She’ll also have a cup of coffee, vanilla creamer.”
You snap out of your gaze after she begins to walk away, “Wait, what? What happened?” “You spaced.” “What!?” You look over at him, “It’s ok, Angel, I ordered for you.” You give him a soft smile. “Oh yeah? What did you order me?” “You’ll see.”
When the food arrives to the table you practically have your mouth watering on the table at the array of food, especially thankful for the cup of coffee. “I love you, you take such good care of me.” You pretend to wipe a tear from your eye. “Hmm.”
As you both eat, Eddie randomly slaps his hand down on the table, then excessively taps it, not loud enough to grab the attention of others, just you. “Oh my-“ you look up at him and see he’s looking towards the door. You turn and see a young man walking in, his long hair and attire very similar to the boy sitting across from you. “Eddie, sweetie, you’re gay is showing.” You hold your straw as you take a sip of your shake, staring at your boyfriend. “Says the girl who drools over the waitress.” Eddie shoots back. You place your hand over your heart, “you wound me, Eds.”
“Is he cute? He’s cute. Shit.” Eddie’s cheeks suddenly turn red, making you laugh. “Now who’s drooling-” “I’m not drooling…!” Eddie blushes.
When you both finish your food, you get back in his van and he drives to a secluded spot, parking behind an abandoned shopping center that no one even drives by anymore. You sit there for a moment thinking about how to initiate, before your boyfriend quickly pulls himself through the seats and into the trunk of his van.
Eddie adjusts the blankets and pillows he shoved back there earlier that morning, watching as you squeeze yourself through the seats following him. He pulls you straight onto his lap, lifting your dress up so your thighs are exposed to his hands. “I love you,” his voice is soft, pulling you in and making you swoon. “I love you more,” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaving soft kisses on his lips before moving down his jaw and neck.
Eddie’s fingers grip tighter on your thighs, nails digging into the soft skin. You exhale a soft sigh. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Eddie speaks first, grinding your hips down on his crotch, “Want you so bad, been thinking about it all day.” You giggle softly, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you enjoy the feeling of his growing tent in his pants.
“Yeah?” You ask, nibbling at his earlobe before pulling away. He groans, annoyed you stopped but glides his hands up under your dress. “I love that you wear dresses, I don’t care if it’s technically for your mom, it gives me the perfect access to you,” his hands massage the fat on your sides, digging his thumbs in your skin, “should take it off though, don’t wanna get it dirty.”
You grip the hem of your dress and pull it over your head, your bra now visible to him. He lifts his hands up your skin and cup his fingers around the garment. You look into his eyes as you watch him continue to stare at your body, his pupils blown, making his comforting brown eyes look black. You grab his vest and jacket and help him slide it off his arms, throwing them both to the side. He yanks off the Hellfire shirt before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you with such passion.
He pulls back, shimmying down his pants while you quickly pull off your underwear. Before the fabric is even entirely off your legs, you’re pulled back onto his lap, your back facing him this time, you look down and immediately blush. His cock is perfectly placed between your thighs, the red tip sticking out and tapping against your stomach with every twitch. “E-Eddie,” you reach back and cup his head from behind you as he grips tightly at your hips, grinding you against his length, his shaft rubbing against your clit.
“Wanna grab us a condom from behind my seat?” He asks. You nod, pulling away from him and reaching down. Eddie swears he would do it raw if he could confirm you wouldn’t get pregnant, but your parents would never allow you on birth control. You grab one of the foils and climb back up against him, opening your legs so his cock is accessible and rolling the condom down. “Relax, Angel, I’ve got you,” he kisses your cheek before lifting your hips, his cock practically jumping to press against you.
You gasp as you’re slowly pulled down, your cunt sheathing his cock without much resistance. Before long, your ass presses back on his crotch, his length fully in you. “You ok?” He asks, hearing your breath picking up. You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. He reaches up and tilts your head back to him, making you look at him, “use your words, Baby.” “I’m ok.”
Before too long your feet are planted against the bed of his van, your hips moving up and down, up and down, as you bounce yourself on him. His hands grip tightly at your waist, his soft groans giving you praise as you try not to just cum on him. “Baby,” his voice pulls you back in, making you whimper. He lifts you off of him, before turning you back around, making you straddle his lap again before going back down. His hands move down your thighs, until one slopes just below your belly, his thumb finding your clit. You crumble at the sudden addition, your head falling to his shoulder.
Eddie loves watching his little Angel crumble because of him. Watching your body shake as your thighs clench, your hands balling into fists on his chest as you try your damn best not to explode, not wanting him to stop. “Come on, Angel,” he whispers into your ear, leaving small kitten licks over your lobe, “cum for me, Baby, need to feel you cum.”
His lips press to the corner of your mouth, “Come on, Baby girl, wanna feel you, need to feel you cum.” His fingers rub harder into your clit, making you moan. Before long you’re gasping as you cry, your boyfriend thrusting up into you as your body shakes. Eddie kisses your cheeks, nose and forehead as your thighs squeeze at his hips, your body releasing around him. “There we go, such a good girl, doing so good for me, Angel,” Eddie kisses your lips as you feel his thighs getting sticky from your arousal.
He shuffles, slowly and carefully laying you back in the bed of the van, onto a blanket with a couple pillows behind your head. He doesn’t leave you, careful to not disconnect your bodies. He climbs over you, pushing your legs out and around his waist. He kisses your hairline, slowly beginning to thrust into you. Your whimpers and moans fill the air around you, his hips moving slow at first before picking up pace.
You brush his hair away from his face before pulling him closer and kissing him, your lips moving in perfect sync. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he goes a little harder.
It doesn’t take long till you cum again, this time he fucks you through it even harder, not stopping or slowing. His groans sound so hypnotic, like a praise leaving his lips without actual words. He thrusts one final time, holding his hips hard against yours as you feel his cock twitch inside you, his face scrunching as he finishes into the condom.
Eddie drops down, his lips pressing to yours repeatedly, before pulling out. Your legs shakily drop to the floorboard, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to come down from your high. He pulls off the condom, ties it off before dropping it between the seats. He pulls up his jeans and boxers before slipping your underwear back up your legs. “You did such a good job, Angel,” Eddie kisses your eyelids, before leaving a soft kiss on your lips, “I’m so proud of you.”
You can’t stop yourself from blushing as he pulls you onto his chest, laying down with you in the blankets. He snuggles into your hair, kissing your head as you smile from his kisses. “You enjoy this too much,” you enquire, giggling a little when he kisses your nose. “I do, but it’s not my fault my girl is so beautiful when she’s coming down from an orgasm.” You roll your eyes, but not in an annoyed way, you enjoy his teasing.
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You don’t know what got into you as you climb down the lattice outside your window. You were never a disobedient child growing up, but for some reason you still climb down one foot after the other, time reaching 8pm as you hit the ground.
You turn to see your beautiful curly haired boyfriend grinning ear to ear at you. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. I’m a bad influence on you.” You glare at him but don’t deny it, cause he is. “I didn’t know what to wear, so I hope you brought something for me to change into.”
Eddie smirks as he grabs your hand, pulling you down the street and to his parked van. He opens the back, showing the few t-shirts he brought from his closet. “Pick one. Any one.” He smiles at you. You grab one of them climbing into the back before he shuts the doors behind you.
You quickly pull off your frilly floral shirt, chunking it to the side of the van, before slipping the Metallica shirt over your head. It’s a little snug, but you don’t hate it. You quickly pull your hair up in a ponytail with the red scrunchy on your wrist.
Climbing to the front, Eddie already half way there to the bar, you sit yourself in the passenger seat, quickly pulling a lipstick you stuck in your pocket and pulling down the visor to see your reflection. You apply the red lipstick, a much deeper color than you usually wear.
Eddie glances over, watching you apply the makeup. He had to be careful with staring, picturing those now perfectly red lips smothering his cock with kisses, leaving lipstick all over his shaft-
“Eddie?” You call out to him, and he looks at you again for a quick second. “Yeah?” “I just remembered I’ve never met the guys.”
It’s true, you’ve been dating for maybe 6 months, but it’s entirely secret to people you both know personally. Eddie had asked you to come to the show tonight because he wants you to meet them. The guys: Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin. He wants you to attend Hellfire meetings, meet Dustin, the kid he practically took under his wing, have you attend his shows, meet his uncle. He doesn’t want you to be a secret anymore to his side of life.
“Then you’ll get to meet them.”
Eddie and you pull up to The Hideout Tuesday night. You’re nervous pick up as he parks the van. “Hey,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand, “I appreciate you wanna see me play, Angel. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you home.” You shake your head.
You’ve been looking forward to watching him play live for months, and nows your chance. Besides, he’s already snuck you out of your house, you might as well enjoy it.
Eddie opens the car door for you, helping you out of your seat before holding your hand as you walk inside through the back entrance.
You hear laughing and talking coming from around the corner, and before long you’re dragged into a room with three boys you recognize from classes. “Hey, guys.” Eddie greets them. They all turn to you both, the messy haired blond tilting his head first. “Who’s that?” He asks. Eddie looks at you, and you look at him, your eyes more nervous than his but his soft eyes comfort you.
“Angel,” he simply says. The guys stay silent for a moment, before gasping and running up closer. “Holly shit!” You know this one, Jeff from Chemistry, practically screams as he reaches for your hand, “You’re like a whole myth at our lunch table!” You blush as it dawns in you.
He talks about you. Eddie talks about you to his friends, he might not have told them who you were until this very moment, but god damnit, he talks about you.
“Eddie can’t shut up about his ‘Sweet Angel’ practically fawning over you every lunch period.” The blond follows. “Refuses to clean his shirt of lipgloss or lipstick before school just so we’ll ask about it. Fucking bastard.” The bigger guy slaps Eddie over the head.
“Hey, it’s not my fault, I mean look at her. Can you blame me?” Eddie is practically glowing, his smile bigger than you’ve even seen it, and that’s saying something. “Wait,” Jeff looks at you for a minute, squinting his eyes. “Chemistry right? You sit towards the front?” You nod, “yeah, Jeff right?” You smile at him. “Yeah, shit, almost didn’t recognize you. Not in your usual floral dresses tonight.” “Yeah, kinda not supposed to be out past 7,” you explain easily. “Your family goes to Franklin Baptist right?” You nod.
“Damn got yourself a religious girl, Eddie?” The blond snickers to himself. You glance up at Eddie before looking back at him. Jeff speaks before you can, “The asshole is Gareth, that’s Kevin.” He points to them respectively. “Nice to meet you, and no. I’m uh, actually atheist. Just… raised Christian.” You hold your hands together in front of you.
“Hey,” a guy pops his head in from a door heading out to the bar, “on in five.” He dips out before anyone replies. “Well,” Eddie turns to you and takes your hand holding it up to his lips, “how about you go out there and sit by the bar? Get some water or something, watch us play.” His lips press a soft kiss to your knuckles making you blush, “ok.”
You sit on one of the stools by the bar, a glass of water in hand as the announcer introduces the next band. “And up next to the stage is Corroded Coffin!” A couple people yell out, raising their glasses up in the air, but not too many.
Then they all step out, the cute guy you know so well with his guitar on his front, stepping up to the front mic with such grace. “How are we all doing tonight?” His voice booms through the room and a few people again holler out, “We are Corroded Coffin, and to start the night off good, Id like to dedicate this first song to the lovely girl in the Metallica shirt by the bar. Lookin’ good, Angel!” He gestures to Jeff who immediately starts his rhythm on the guitar, Gareth following soon after on drums.
Oh my.
“Mmm, yeah!” Eddie jumps in before letting them play a bit longer. Kevin joining in with his guitar.
No he’s not.
Then they all begin it. “Ha!” Eddie continues, and the guys follow with “Do do do dodo dodo do do, do do do dodo dodo!” They repeat it a couple times before Eddie jumps back in. “Tonight… I wanna give it all to you!”
Oh no he IS.
You feel your cheeks heat up, instantly closing your eyes as you try not to giggle. “In the daaarkness… there’s so much I want to do-o-o,” both Jeff and Gareth lean into their mics “And tonight,” all three of them sing before Eddie continues on his own, “I wanna lay it at your feet,” he points directly at you, stopping his own playing to continue with the next lyric, “‘cause, Girl, I was made for you, and girl, you were made for me!” Eddie can’t help his grin, watching you trying to not die from embarrassment in the corner, “Hit it!” He yells before all the guys jump in to continue the song.
“I was made for lovin’ you, Baby! You were made for loving me! And I can’t get enough of you, Baby! Can you get enough of me?”
You cover your face but peek out through your fingers as you watch them finish the rest of the song. You have to sit through the rest of the set, trying not to giggle to yourself after the choice of an opener.
When Eddie finally meets back up with you, nearly two hours later, you glare at him through your third glass of water, “I hate you.” Eddie chuckles before throwing his arm over your shoulders, kissing your forehead, “no you don’t. You love me.”
You take a deep breath, trying to make the redness in your face go away, still not over the first song of the show. “How long,” you look up at him, sitting your glass down on the counter, “have you had that planned?” “Uh,” Eddie looks over at the backstage door before turning back to you, “couple months.” His cheeks tint, obviously embarrassed by the admission. “Eds, I told you I wanted to come to the show three days ago,” you smile at him, “and I know damn well that’s not in your original set, I’ve seen the original set list, Eddie.” You can’t help the goofy grin that pulls at the corners of your mouth.
“Might have convinced the guys the day you told me to knock out the original opener to fit the one we practiced for you…” he admits. You laugh, a solid hearty laugh, not a giggle, not a chuckle, a full on laugh. A snort finds its way in, catching you off guard. Eddie joins in immediately after it happens, covering his mouth as he tries not to do the same.
You both laugh for a good minute, just cackling to yourselves as you try to calm down. When you finally catch your breath, you speak up first, “Those poor boys, you just tortured them for the last couple of days.” He nods, his hand on your arm as he holds his stomach, “yeah, they hated me the last few days.”
You didn’t stick around too long, not wanting to test your luck with your parents and your empty bedroom. You both walk out of the bar, his arm over your shoulder, both of you giggling as you press your hand into his chest.
“(Y/n)?” A deep voice makes you freeze. Your heart stopping as you refuse to look up. “(Y/n)?” Eddie looks over at the speaker, a man who looks so similar to you, but he’s older, at least 10 years. “Can I help you?” Eddie asks, his hand gripping tighter on your shoulder. You look up and there he is.
It’s happening again.
“Yeah, you can let go of my little sister, creep.” Logan, your oldest brother, glares at Eddie, his eyes sharp and narrow. Eddie slowly lifts his hand from your shoulder, obviously just not wanting to anger the guy who’s nearly twice his size. You sigh, “Logan, he’s fine.” You place your arms over your chest, gripping your arms tightly. Logan looks at you then back at Eddie, “why are you with this guy? Who is he?” Logan steps closer, still on edge.
You take a deep breath. Here we go.
“His name is Eddie,” you tell him, looking up at him, “he’s not a creep, he’s my boyfriend, Logan.” Logan hesitates for a moment, “boyfriend? Since when did you get a boyfriend? Mom and dad know?” He scoffs when you stay silent, “take that as a no,” he looks at Eddie, glancing over his form, his clothes, hair. He’s judging him.
“So what do you do? Besides take my underaged sister to a bar.” You roll your eyes at his question. “His band plays here every week. We didn’t drink, I had a couple glasses of water, Logan.” You glare at him, getting pissed off. Logan hums in response, looking Eddie up and down, “glad you are actually dating a guy,” he speaks, “mom’s gonna be pissed he’s not from church though.”
You think for a moment, then raise a brow, “Why are you here?” Logan hesitates but you speak again before he can reply, “It’s a bar, Logan, if you thought I was drinking but I’m underaged, what am I supposed to think about you? A guy of thirty-three, past the legal drinking age? What is mom gonna think about that?”
You don’t know what got into you. Maybe it was the way your boyfriend was will to embarrass you in front of a decent crowd, maybe how he talked about you to his friends even though your relationship was supposed to be secret. Maybe it’s how he didn’t falter in front of his friends, kept staying near you and showing you love and affection. Maybe it was just… Eddie.
You glance over at the brunette standing next to you, noticing how his eyes never leave your brother, nervous. Sweet Eddie. “Go tell mom.” You suddenly say, Logan looks at you a little shocked. “She was gonna have to find out eventually, at least now I can tell her that her perfect oldest son drinks. She might actually worry about you more than me.”
“Hmm,” Logan hums before continuing to make his way towards the door, stopping right next to you, “you go down, I go down too? I’ll hold you to that.” He makes his way into the bar.
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You both drive back to your street with no further problems. Eddie parks his van a street down, turning off the headlights to not get any attention drawn to you both.
“So…” Eddie mumbles out, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, “That was interesting.” You scoff lightly, leaning your head back on the headrest. “I swear, if he rats me out, he’s done for.” Your voice sounds more joking than anything, but you aren’t. “Mom hates alcohol that much?” He chuckles a bit, leaning back against his own seat and looking over at you, a small smile on his lips. “Oh completely. My parents are Baptist, Eds, alcohol is a sin to them, they refuse to even have it in the house.” “Didn’t Jesus like… turn water into wine?” You shrug, “who knows why, I’ve questioned that my entire life.”
“Logan is the oldest, right?” You nod, “yep, fifteen years older than me,” you look over and smile at him. “You mentioned once you didn’t know your brothers that well growing up,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand. You take a deep sigh, “yeah, since I was born when Logan was fifteen, Noah, my other brother,” you give his hand a squeeze, “the middle kid, was ten. I was an accident, not planned.”
He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to you. “You know how Christians are, against abortion and all. I was closest to Noah growing up, but even that felt more like a babysitter, not a brother. Logan acts like my brother now that I’m older, but when we were kids, he was just…” you stop, raising his hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. Eddie moves his hand, letting it cup around your face.
“Angel,” Eddie calls out to you, making you look at him, “It’s gonna be ok.” He gives you a soft smile, which you return. “I love you.” The words slip out of your lips naturally, little butterflies in your stomach.
You don’t know why. You’ve said those words to each other hundreds of time already, but for some reason it feels… different. It’s not just a quick phrase, a sentimental thing you say to make you and him feel good. You mean it. With all of your heart. You love him.
Eddie’s smile grows a bit bigger, “I love you.” His beautiful chocolate brown eyes gaze at you with such love you feel it. You know he means it with everything he has. You could stare at those eyes all day, hopefully one day you can.
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In the morning, you sit with your family at breakfast. Your mother plates everyone food, which you help her set the table. “Oh, darling, set up a fourth setting,” your mother instructs you, “Logan is going to be here any minute.” “What?” You turn quickly to her, a tinge of discomfort in your stomach. “Logan. He’s going to be joining-“ The door bell rings.
Oh shit.
“I’ve got it!” Your father gets up and goes to answer the door, “Logan, good to see you, son!” Your oldest brother steps inside the house, hugging your father. “Hey, Pops,” Logan departs from the front door, entering the dinning space, where you stand and your mother brings out some plates and sits them down on the table. “Logan!” Your mother smiles, quickly pulling her oldest child into a hug.
“Hey, Momma, thanks for having me such short notice,” he smiles, parting from her before turning to you, “Hey, (y/n).” He holds out his arms, and you hesitate before hugging him. You don’t want to tip off your mom.
After everyone has a plate at their seat and the table is decorated in platters of pancakes, eggs, grits, and so much more, Momma really went all out, you all take your seats. “So, Logan dear,” your mom smiles at her pride and joy of a child, “we heard about Susan from Cindy at church. Why didn’t you tell us?” You look between your mother and brother, a little confused.
You know Susan, that’s Logan’s wife. You met her a couple times, a little grossed out because she is 23, closer to your age than to Logan’s. You know Cindy to be a gossip at church, her spreading the ‘rumor’— as your mother referred to it—of you kissing Sarah all those years ago.
“What happened with Susan?” You ask, making your mother to turn to you. “She was found sneaking around with Gabriel a couple months ago, apparently the affair has been going on for a year. Your brother here,” she points to Logan, “requested an annulment for the marriage with the state and church because of the adultery.” You can tell from her raising voice she’s furious about the whole affair.
“It was approved last week.” Logan informs you all, “She signed the papers only a couple days ago, no arguments made. I’m letting her keep the house, so I’m gonna get an apartment close by, so thought I’d come visit for a couple days while looking.” Your mother practically gasps with glee at the news, “So you’re gonna be closer to home? How wonderful!”
That’s the last thing you need, another set of eyes out in public watching out for you.
“Isn’t… divorce a sin…?” You ask, not trying to incriminate your brother, not at all, just genuinely confused as to why your mother would allow it, or even be happy about it. “Technically,” your father speaks, your mother finishing for him, “But only without proper cause. That whores affair is proper enough.” You nearly chock on your juice as your mother’s phrasing.
“Momma!” You yell at her, staring at her utterly shocked, “You can’t just-“ “Why not? She cheated on my baby with someone inside the church!” Your father just nods along. You look over at Logan, he’s nearly just as shocked as you are.
“You shouldn’t call her that, Momma,” Logan takes a sip from his coffee, recovering from the display, “She was still my wife.” Your mother looks a little hurt from his intervention, sagging back into her chair as if she’s a toddler being told they have to eat their veggies.
“Your mother is allowed to be upset, Logan,” your father speaks out, looking up at your brother, “just like (y/n) can speak her mind, and you can speak yours.”
Such bullshit. Your opinions never mattered growing up, do they suddenly now because you’re older?
“I need to head out to school,” you explain, standing up and taking your plate. You clean off the dish in the sink, before walking by the table again, hugging your mother and kissing your father’s cheek. “I’ll see you later today.”
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The next few days are uneventful, just back and forth with school, your mother bickering you about your future, and your perfect brother hogging the bathroom. Until Saturday.
You sit in your room, changing out of your day clothes and grabbing the nightgown from the basket of clean clothes. The warm air from the weather comes in through your open window, perfectly creating that warmer atmosphere.
“I’d say keep it off.” You jump back from the sudden words spoken out, your eyes immediately darting to the window where your metal head dork of a boyfriend sits halfway in. “You scared me, Eddie…!” You whisper, “you shouldn’t be here, everyone is probably still awake.” He just shrugs at your warning.
“So who’s the car outside? It’s not your dad’s and your mom doesn’t have one herself,” he asks, moving in closer to you, pulling your nightgown from your hands and pulling you to him, your bare chest pressing to his t-shirt. “It’s Logan’s, you dingbat. And if he sees you here he might not be so keen on keeping you a secret.”
“Eh, I’ll be out before anyone notices. Though I should really teach you a thing of two about actual creeps,” he kisses your cheek, his hands pressing to your back, “maybe then you’ll learn to shut your window when you’re changing.” You roll your eyes, “you’re a jerk, Munson.” He chuckles, pushing you back onto your bed, immediately pushing at your knees to frame your legs around his waist, laying into you. “A jerk? Me?” He kisses you softly before traveling little kisses down your neck, “A tease maybe, but never a jerk, Angel.”
Your breathing gets heavy as he moves down your chest, cupping one breast in his hand before taking the other into his mouth. “Eds,” you blush, gripping at his shoulders as his cold fingers graze over your nipple. “Hmm?” “My…” you can’t help but feel your panties start getting wet, “my brother is home, and my family is still awake- mm!” You bite your lower lip, muffling the soft moan that leaves you when his teeth bite down on your hard bud.
“You can be quiet,” Eddie smirks, pulling away from your torso, “Don’t you wanna be a good girl? Be quiet for me?” You hate how he knows that shit works.
He pushes your throw pillows off your bed, pulling back the covers. “Don’t be too loud or we’ll be found, ok?” He goes lower under the sheets, right where you want him, pulling your underwear down your legs. You cover your mouth as you feel his tongue glide across your core, his fingers brushing your folds out of the way. Two digits break your entrance, making you whimper as you grab his long curls with your free hand. “E-Eds…!” You try to be quiet, your body reacting quickly to his actions.
“Go on, let it out, Angel.” His approval sends you over the edge way too soon, your thighs squeezing his head as you finish, gasping for air. Eddie leaves little kitten licks before pulling away from you. “I’m proud of you,” he leans up and kisses your neck, the smell of you very prominent on his lips. “Oh?” You lean into his kisses, just letting him do as he pleases, “why is that?”
“You may have mentioned how people are home or they’re awake, but you haven’t looked at that door once, Angel.” He smiles down at you. And he’s right, you haven’t.
Sure you’ve mentioned worry, but there is no real fear this time. Your body is completely reacting only to Eddie, sweet Eddie. Your Eddie.
“I haven’t have I?” You smile back at him, not even looking now, even though it’s been pointed out to you, “Maybe you’re a bad influence.” Eddie smiles, placing a quick kiss to your lips before stripping himself down bare, fisting himself a little once finished. “Don’t know what you think you’re doing with that without-“
Eddie digs into his jacket pocket before throwing it down and pulls out a condom, holding it up to your face. “I come prepared, my lady, no need to worry.” You hum in response, watching him rip open and roll on the condom. Once it’s on, he quickly holds at your thighs, taking no time to slowly push himself deep into you.
“Not gonna lie, Angel,” he sighs as his cock bottoms out, “I’ve been looking forward to ducking you into your white sheets for months.” You blush as he starts to move, a soft moan leaving you as his hips roll into yours. “Could fuck this pussy all day, like a fucking drug,” he kisses your cheek. You bite your lip trying to not moan, but each thrust presses that perfect spot as he knows your body just all too well.
“Eddie…” you whimper out his name, your ankles crossing behind his back. His thrusts stay slow, sensual, easing you into it as the knot already forms in your stomach. He’s gonna be the death of you one day.
He lays his head on your shoulder, tilting it downward so he can watch the place your bodies intersect, watching his cock thrust in and out of you achingly slow. “Eddie, please,” you mutter out a beg, wanting him to pick up speed, to just put you out of your misery, but he doesn’t. “Not yet, baby girl,” he kisses you once, twice, three time before staring down at you, “gonna fuck you nice a slow, watch you get sensitive before letting you finally cum.”
He does this for a good thirty minutes, making you get testy as you cling to him, wanting him to just fuck you harder. “Eddie, please.” He picks up the pace, thrusting his hips into you a little harder. You gasp, the feeling sending you so close to your climax you have to fully concentrate to not finish. “Eds..!” You grip at his shoulders.
“Go on, Baby, cum for me.” You do, harder than you’ve ever before. Your eyes water, thighs clenching around his hips as you let out the most erotic sounds. After that it only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s whimpering out an orgasm of his own, hiding his face in your hair.
You stay like that for a moment, just both catching your breath. After a few minutes he pulls away, tying the condom and dropping it in the trash can under your desk. He slips back on his boxers before climbing back onto the bed, it shifts under his weight. You turn over to him as he lays next to you, pulling the covers over you both.
“I really enjoyed that.” You speak first, pulling the pillow under your head closer. Eddie smiles at you, his body fully turned in your direction, laying on his side. His hand lifts and pushes a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Yeah?” To which you nod. “I did do,” he follows up.
You feel your cheeks heat up as you hide your face into the pillow, feeling butterflies flutter around in your stomach. “Like, I really liked that,” you hope the tone expresses what you mean. You didn’t just like it, you loved it.
Eddie can’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting, watching you hide your face, your ears turning red from your flush. He leans over and places a soft kiss against your hair. “I really liked that, too,” he emphasizes the same word and you groan as you curl into your blankets more, making him chuckle.
“Angel,” his hand presses against your bare back, his warm fingers running up and down your bare skin. It’s not sexual, just soft, comforting, like home. “I love you, so fucking much,” his voice falters a bit, immediately gravitating your attention. You snap your head up, seeing his eyes looking so soft, so loving. It makes you wanna cry.
But you don’t, taking in a shaky breath as you shift closer to him, pressing your head against his chest. “I love you, Eddie Munson. So much.” You nuzzle your face into his skin, your hands making their way around his torso, pushing him to lay on his back with you on top of him. “You make me so happy,” you mumble, leaving a couple kisses against his bare chest.
Then your door opens. The creaking of the hinges the first thing you hear before it’s followed with “Darling, do you have-“ your mother’s head pops into the doorframe, your whole world crashing as she makes direct eye contact with you.
The door bursts open, the knob banging into the wall loudly, making you jump. “Momma!” You yell out, pulling the blankets up your shoulders. She does say anything, which is somehow scarier. She just stomps farther in, gripping her fists around your powder blue comforter before yanking it back. Thankfully, Eddie sees this about to happen before you do, and grips tighter at the sheets underneath to keep you just covered.
“What in the hell is this!?” Your mother’s voice booms out, your eyes shutting tight as you flinch at her loud voice. “Momma-“ “No. Don’t ‘Momma’ me! I knew we were being too easy with you! Honey!” She walks back out, stomping her feet angrily, calling out to your father, as she makes her way down the stairs.
You both scurry out of the bed, your heart racing, “no no no no!” You quickly snatch your underwear off the floor slipping them on and following with your nightgown, Eddie doing the same with his jeans and tee. “This is so bad, this is really bad…!” You follow after her as quickly as possible, Eddie following after you.
You reach the bottom of the stairs, booking it into the dining room where your mother is already telling your father, “Momma, please, just listen-!” You feel your eyes watering, genuinely terrified as to what will happen next. “You’re… tramp of a daughter had a boy-” Eddie enters the room and your mother gestures to him aggressively, as if his presence fuels her anger more, “this boy in her room! I found them entangled together!” Your mother looks absolutely mortified.
“Please just let me explain!” You quickly cut in, looking at your father with those little doe eyes you know he can’t deny. Your father sighs, glancing at your mother then back at you then his gaze shifts to behind you, at Eddie. “Explain.” Your mother scoffs at him, “There’s nothing to explain! He’s ruined her! I can’t have another scandal with this family! Logan is already dealing with his divorce!” Your mother’s voice shakes with rage, you can feel her blood boiling from where you stand, “What will the church think?”
Your father sighs. “Sweetheart,” his eyes set on you, the same ones that used to calm you as a child, “Who is this boy?” You hesitate but straighten up your posture, glad to be given the chance. “Daddy,” you reach other to Eddie and grab his arm, pulling him forward, “This is Eddie, he’s my boyfriend.” Your mother lets out a cold laugh at this, but says nothing.
Your father takes a deep breath but before he can speak, a voice draw the attention of everyone in the room. “Oh, hey, Eddie? Good to see you again, man.”
Logan steps into the room, walking straight up to Eddie, taking his hand in his own and shaking it. “I didn’t know you were meeting everyone tonight.” He looks over at you, obviously a little confused.
“I-“ Eddie goes to speak, but your mom interrupts him. “I found him in your sister’s room, Logan. In her bed!” Logan tries not to show any drastic emotions to this news, but you catch his eye twitch. “Ah, yeah I can see where you’d consider that a problem,” he rubs the back of his neck.
“You know this boy, son?” Your father asks, pointing to Eddie, but his eyes fixed on your brother. “Yeah,” Logan speaks, looking at you one more time before shifting his gaze to your nervous boyfriend, “met him a while ago, he’s a good kid.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Found out he was dating (y/n) not too long ago. They make a cute couple don’t they?” He smiles at you.
Your father looks Eddie over, “You believe in God, boy?” “Yes, sir.” Eddie speaks up decently fast, not taking any chances, but you know damn well his belief is questionable. Then the older man looks back at you, his eyes physically softening.
Your father’s always had a sweet spot for you, getting defensive when your mother would beat you for stupid things. You’re his ‘god’s blessing,’ probably the only person in this house to feel that way. And that’s what made you favor him over your mother.
“Does he treat you right? Doesn’t hit you or anything?” You smile at him, “No, sir, he’s kind and sweet. Treats me well.” You keep it simple and straight to the point. He looks back over at Eddie before continuing, “Do you love ‘em?” “Ha!” Your mother laughs, “love him? Honey, she doesn’t know-” “Yes.” You cut her off, your arms squeezing tighter on Eddie’s, “love him with all my heart, Daddy.”
Your father sighs. “If Logan thinks he’s good enough I don’t see why we should have a problem with him.” Your mother squeaks, flabbergasted by your father’s words, “because he was in her bed? This is a Christian household! I will not let a teen pregnancy tarnish this family!” “You use condoms?” The question was directed at Eddie this time, making you both flush red. “Y-Yes, sir.” “Then that’s that.” Your father stands, coming over and patting Eddie on the shoulder, “nice to meet you, Eddie,” before walking out of the room, your mother chasing after him.
You, Eddie, and Logan all stand there for a moment, a little shook after the very direct question. Logan speaks first, turning to you both. “You two are fucking stupid.” He speaks through his teeth, but he’s not angry, he’s trying not to laugh, “my God, really? At home? Come on.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “I better get something from that talk, cause Jesus save me, that was awful.” “I’ll get you a free drink at the Hideout,” Eddie follows quietly, which you just look at him. “Deal. After that shit show, I’ll fucking need it, but that’s just your payment,” Logan turns to you, “you owe me, kid. Jesus, now you know why I drink.”
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Tag list:
@cagethemunson @spikeybatt @cherrycolas-things
@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e
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dazz-linglight · 4 months
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Hello love, I have a request for sehun we’re reader is younger than him and plus size, and She gets jealous of sehun friendship with sejeong and they get in a fight we’re sehun say he likes sejeong more than her. With a bit of angst and a happy ending.
It’s alright if you don’t want to take this request I totally understand. I love you and you’re writing 🤍🤍🤍
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Another Chance.
(idol!Sehun x non-idol!Reader) feat. EXO and Kim Sejeong.
Sehun and you were the type of couple that radiated warmth and affection, laughter often echoed through your small apartment. Sehun, at thirty, had a quiet confidence that complemented your vibrant, effervescent personality. You, younger by five years, a plus-size woman who carried yourself with grace and an infectious smile. Despite the strong bond built in one year of your relationship, insecurities sometimes crept in, often spurred by your own self-doubts.
One sunny Saturday, you were both invited to Suho's barbecue in his new house, along with the rest EXO members and a few other friends. The backyard was filled with people chatting, laughing, and savoring the delicious aroma of grilled food. You stayed close to Sehun, enjoying the social gathering but feeling a bit out of place. It wasn't long before Sejeong, a friend of them joined the gathering.
Sejeong is slim and carried herself with a sophisticated air. She and Sehun had an easygoing friendship and their conversation flowed effortlessly. As they laughed and reminisced about their idol antics, you felt a knot of jealousy in her stomach. Trying to mask the discomfort, you joined the conversation as you could, but couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider around them. Sehun’s attention seemed more focused on Sejeong, and each shared joke and burst of laughter between them felt like a small cut to your heart.
After a while, you excused yourself to grab a drink, trying to collect your thoughts. From a distance, you watched Sehun and Sejeong close together in deep conversation. It felt like watching your worst fears play out in front of your eyes. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, you marched back to the table.
“Hey, Sehun,” you called for him, your voice sharper than intended, “can we talk for a minute?”Sehun looked surprised but nodded, excusing himself from Sejeong. You walked in front of him to a corner where nobody would listen and turned to him, the sounds of the barbecue fading slightly.
“What’s wrong, love?” Sehun asked, concern etched on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.
“Look, I don’t really like the way you’re acting around Sejeong. You’re so wrapped up in her that you’re ignoring me.” Sehun’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion.
“Love, Sejeong is my colleague . There’s nothing more to it.” He tried reasoning, not understanding where you're coming from.
“But it feels like there is!” You snapped, the insecurities boiling over your head. “You’re being much more attentive to her than you are to me. Do you even realize how that makes me feel?”
Sehun sighed, clearly frustrated. “_______, you’re overreacting. Sejeong is just easy to talk to. We have things in common from work, that’s all.”
You got a bit overwhelmed and a few tears filled your eyes, voice trembling. “Maybe she’s more likable than me then, huh? Is that it?”
Sehun’s patience got thin. “Yeah, maybe she is! At least she doesn’t get jealous over nothing!” The words hung in the air, heavy and painful in your heart. Your face got sour and you immediately turned to walk away from him, quickly going towards Suho's house.
Sehun soon regretted his outburst, but his pride held him back from following you. The rest of the barbecue was a blur for Sehun. He stayed, but his mind was with you, replaying the argument over and over. He hated himself for the ridiculous words he had said, knowing they stemmed from his own frustration and not the truth. While you spent the rest of the afternoon in the living room and away from everyone, tears streaming down your face. You felt humiliated, hurt, and worst of all, you believed Sehun’s words. Maybe Sejeong really was more likable. Maybe you were the problem.
Two hours later, Sehun came in to find and drove you home in silence, the tension between you palpable. When you got home, you went straight to shower and then to bed, curling up on your side, back to Sehun. He watched for a moment, wanting to reach out, but unsure how to bridge the gap he had created.
The next morning, Sehun woke up early, determined to make things right. He slipped out quietly and headed to the nearest florist, buying the most beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. When he returned, he found you in the kitchen, staring blankly at your coffee cup.
“Love...” he said softly, approaching you with the flowers. “I’m so sorry for yesterday. I was a jerk and I said things I didn’t mean. Sejeong isn’t more likable than you. No one is. You're the woman I love. You’re the most important person in my life.”
You turned to face him and looked up, eyes still red from crying. You accepted the flowers, holding them close to your chest. “It really hurt me, Sehun. I’ve always felt insecure about my weight and how I look. Seeing you with her just brought all those fears to the surface.”
Sehun stepped closer, taking your face in his hands. “I apologize. I should've been more considerate of your feelings. You’re beautiful to me, in every way. I don’t want anyone else. I love you just the way you are.”
You stared back at him, eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief.
“I love you too, Sehun. I just need to feel that you’re with me, that you see me.”
“I do,” He said with the earnest voice. “And I’ll make sure you always know that.” The two of you stood there in the kitchen, holding each other tightly, the flowers pressed between them.
The tension and hurt melted away, replaced by the warmth of their love. From that day on, Sehun made a conscious effort to show you how much he cared. He never let a day go by without reminding you how beautiful you are to him, inside and out. You too worked on her insecurities, learning to trust more in Sehun’s love and your relationship.
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stormyweaver · 4 months
Text
First Time For Everything || Part 1/??)
Alright, so never let it be said I'm not a hypocrite. I'm a huge one. But this has been sitting in my drafts for over two months and I need to post it since it's not going anywhere else lmao. PLUS I'm still reeling from my gnawing obsession with V/ox resurfacing after... y'know idk exactly what triggered it but it happened regardless.
Anyway I'm proud of my dialogue for this one bc that's always something I struggle with when writing, so yeah! Plus the idea of V/ox's first cold in Hell has always just been rattling around in my head. Also it's short, but sweet. So yeah! Enjoy!
Summary: V/ox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alas/tor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way. ~~~
It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 
The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 
He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.
Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.
Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.
He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.
“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”
“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”
Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 
“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”
“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 
Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?...” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 
“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 
Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”
After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.
'He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?' Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 
Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 
As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.
Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 
Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 
Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.
“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch... was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–
“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”
His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 
“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head...” 
“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 
“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it *ever* being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?
“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 
“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “... you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 
Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.
“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 
“Wait, what?”
Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 
Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…
“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 
“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 
“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”
“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”
“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–
“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 
Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 
“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 
“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 
“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 
Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 
“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”
Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 
“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 
Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 
By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.
Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 
Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 
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this feeling | c. leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x best friend!reader word count: 2k words request: nope, at least i don’t think so. prompt: my birthday party is in full swing but it’s too much for me right now, so I grab a bottle of wine and go up to the rooftop. that’s where you find me eventually. found here! warnings: talks about anxiety, social anxiety and themes like that. also, drinking. a/n: it’s my birthday! and as a gift, for both me and you, here’s a 100% self indulgent fic. hope you like it!
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never a big fan of her birthday, it wasn’t a surprise when her surprise party turned a little too overwhelming for her. she was happy her closest friends were there, even some of her best friend’s friends, who eventually became her own.
charles had been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. having known each other since their teenage years, when he was still in f2. because of her father’s job they’d been invited to the f1 abu dhabi grand prix, and it was also the last race in his category.
whilst her father was more focused on the main event, she was interested in the junior category, too. mainly because there were less people gathered around to watch it, which helped with her anxiety when she was around big crowds.
she’d met charles after his race win, he was surrounded by his friends and family, and someone grabbed the bottle of champagne from his hand and started spraying it at him, but she was caught in the crossfire as she was walking by right at that moment. she couldn’t help but yelp, which caught their attention.
“sorry!” charles’ little brother, arthur, said as he took a step back and gave the bottle to the oldest leclerc, lorenzo.
“uhh, no worries,” she sighed, looking down at her wet jacket. it was useless to have it on to try and fight the night chilly wind, so she took it off and held it in her hand as she turned around to walk away.
“hey, wait,” someone caught up to her. she turned her head, seeing charles in front of her a shy smile on her face, “i’m so sorry about my brother, it’s just… the euphoria and all-”
“it’s okay. i saw the race, it was really good. congratulations.” she said, and at that moment a particularly cold gust of wind made her shiver, “i have to go.”
“thanks. um, here-” he zipped down his own jacket, filled with the team and sponsor’s logos. “take this, so you don’t get cold.”
“oh, uh, there’s no need, really-”
“please, i insist,” she sighed, looking down at his hand.
“okay. thank you,” she smiled, taking it and putting it on. she had to bite back the smile that was threatening to appear on her face as the warmth of his jacket enveloped her.
“i- i’m charles, by the way.” he said, extending his hand. she smiled, shaking it.
“(y/n),” she said.
and that was it. they’d ran into each other later that day, while the f1 race was going on, since everyone was gathered at the same spot to watch the race, it left the paddock free to wander around. charles called her name, and they talked the entire time, he opened up to her and she did the same, they exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch.
flash forward five years later, she hugged charles as a group of fifteen people surprised her in charles’ apartment. it was the only place she’d agree to go without being suspicious. plus, it was where she was staying for her week in monaco.
“thank you, cha,” she smiled, rising to her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“ah, it’s nothing. only the best for the best,” he poked her sides, emitting an adorable yelp followed by giggles. she was quickly approached by her friends waiting there.
throughout their years of friendship charles insisted she visited him at least once every two months, which caused her to start getting to know people on her own and expanding her friend group in that small country.
she said hello to everyone, and felt a small pang in her chest when she received a few gifts. she didn’t like the idea of people feeling pressured or forced to spend time and money on her, but the people there made her forget about that thought for a little while.
it wasn’t until two hours later, when her shoulders started feeling tense, that she knew it was time to take a step back. she slid into the kitchen, opening the fridge door and grabbing her bottle of wine. even though charles lived a life full of luxuries, in which he could buy the most expensive things known to mankind, she always made sure to bring him down to earth. her favorite way was making him go to the grocery store and buy the cheapest bottle of wine he could find. a sweet rose that she’d grown to love throughout the years.
she slipped away unnoticed, everyone was too caught up in a story charles’ friend, pierre was saying. besides the harbor and charles’ apartment, the rooftop in his building was one of her favorite places in monte carlo. it overlooked everything, it had a 360 view of the entirety of monaco, and the night sky.
she stood by the edge, opening the bottle and taking a sip of the sweet wine. she smiled as she thought to everything they’d done that day, from a short ride on his yacht where they enjoyed breakfast, to a walk around, visiting her favorite shops and spots. and a nice dinner before making their way to her surprise party.
she was so lucky to have someone like charles as her best friend. he was so selfless, always putting people before himself, showing his love and appreciation for the people he cared about in any way he could. the monegasque was caring. there was no other way to describe him.
charles laughed as he remembered the anecdote pierre was telling, the frenchman loved having all the attention on him, and he knew how to keep a crowd entertained. charles looked to the kitchen, where he’d last spotted her, but couldn’t find her. he thought that maybe she was feeling hungry and wanted something small, so he stood up and went to the guest bedroom, knowing she didn’t like having people watching her eat. he looked for her everywhere, and looked at his watch once he realized she was gone.
it had been too long since her last alone time to recharge. he decided to wait a few minutes before going to the rooftop, wanting her to get enough time to think about her day and get ready to come back. it took him about five months to really get to know her, to understand her quirks, the things she did when she was nervous, stressed, happy. after that, he only had to look at her to know what she was feeling. he could read her like a book.
once charles decided it was time, he took the elevator up to the rooftop, she’d told him many times before that the view relaxed her, something about the way she could see everything but no one could see her.
“thief,” he called her, walking to her, “you stole my wine.”
“it’s my wine, you just bought it,” she chuckled, smiling at him. “how did you know?” she asked.
“it took you longer than i thought, i’m proud of you,” he said, throwing an arm over her shoulders.
“thanks, i think the amount of people, and the people themselves, really helped.” charles nodded, he’d been afraid that fifteen might be a lot for her, but she loved each and every one of them. “we’re improving,” she said, even though it might seem like she was the one who was improving on her social skills, this was a team effort.
“i’m happy to hear that.” he leaned in, touching her head with his. “did you enjoy your day?” he asked, a smile on his face as he waited expectantly.
“yeah, thank you so much, cha,” she looked up at him, a grin on her face. “i loved today.”
“good,” he said, nodding to himself, making a mental note of everything they’d done that day and storing it in the ‘approved’ folder in his head. “we still need to cut the cake,” he nudged her hip with his, a playful gesture that told her they still needed to go back downstairs, but whenever she felt ready.
“you got me a cake?” she asked, bringing the bottle up to her lips.
“obviously! it’s not a birthday without cake.”
“not necessarily,” she said, handing him the bottle, “this whole day felt like a birthday, a good birthday-” she pointed out, “and there was no cake involved until now,”
“so you’re saying you don’t want that red velvet beauty from that place you like?” he said after drinking some of the wine, placing the bottle on the floor. her eyes widened at his words, that was quite possibly her favorite thing on earth, besides charles.
“i’m just saying… you don’t need a birthday to enjoy some good cake, and a birthday is more than that, it’s about the people and the love.” she said, turning so her back was against the ledge.
“did you feel loved today?” he asked. charles walked in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her.
“i did, yeah.” she nodded, a soft smile on her lips. charles grinned, too, and noticed her eyes flicking down to his lips. “and i loved spending most of the day with you, and everything you did for me. it really made me feel… loved.” she’d paused a little before saying the last word, the tone in her voice changed, it was lower… shy.
it took charles a few seconds to try and recognize what she was feeling, but he’d never seen her like this before. this was new, it was… vulnerable, open.
“you are. so loved. by me and everyone downstairs, and many more.” she gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding.
“i know, it just… nevermind, i’m not making any sense because of the booze and the sleep,” she chuckled, trying to move, escape his caging arms, but he didn’t budge. “let’s go back downstairs, i’m sure now that we’re both gone they’ll notice.”
“okay, but- we’re having this conversation later,” he said.
“sure,” she smiled, placing her hands on his shoulders. she stood up on her tiptoes and again, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “we should go back now,” she said, but felt charles’ hands on her waist.
“wait. just… i can’t read you.” he confessed.
“what?” she frowned.
“what is going on in your mind? i- i don’t… i’ve never seen this look in your face. what are you feeling?” she felt her throat closing, she was aware of how much charles knew her, but him admitting that just by looking at her he could tell what she was feeling… it brought a chill down her back.
“i don’t- don’t really know.” she admitted. “i just know that i’ve never felt anything like this before.”
she paused, staring into charles’ eyes, which seemed to shine like the stars lighting up the sky behind him.
“well… make sure to tell me once you figure it out.” he pleaded.
“is… it’s really that important? what if i don’t feel like this ever again?”
“then we’ll have to work on it. try everything so you have this same look on your face again.” he said, sounding completely serious. she wanted to laugh, it was almost funny how wrapped up in this mystery he was.
“okay. deal.” she agreed, for him.
“good.” he nodded, dropping his hands from her waist, reaching for her hands. “we really should go down now,” he started walking backwards, leading her to the elevator.
“you’re gonna fall,” she laughed, grabbing his elbows to help support him.
“you’ve gotta catch me, then,” he smiled, leaning against the wall as they waited for the elevator.
“fine. deal.”
-
charles looked at everyone, as they sang happy birthday and she smiled. she was feeling uncomfortable with so many eyes on her but they were all good people, people she trusted and loved. her eyes met charles’, an amused smile on his face as everybody gave their best performance of the simple song.
she raised his eyebrows, an action she’d picked up from him, in a way that said ‘it’s not fancy, but it’s what i have and i wouldn’t change it’.
he just smiled, and kept staring at her even after she looked away. there it was. that same look in her eyes. what was it?
as the song came to an end, it was time to make a wish. she thought hard about it. as she looked around the room, and met charles’ eyes briefly, she knew.
i wish to know what i’m feeling.
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