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demwhore · 4 years

Text

summer (l.ty)

pairing┃boxer! lee taeyong and college student! OC ft. Doyoung, Mark, Johnny and Taeil + mention of Bang Chan and Namjoon genre | fluff, slight angst | boxer! au warnings | slow-burn, language, mention of ass ( i know taeyong has none but alright), lots of banter, physical injuries, mention of blood, violence, mention of steroid usage, making out in the boxing gym, too much plot but aight, smut (for those uncomfortable, the smut is placed at the very end; the note indicates mature content, read at your own risk ) subtle sub!-dom! themes, unprotected sex, fingering, eating out, penetration, biting, marking, creampie, edging it’s not really that dirty but it’s just passionate lovemaking word count | 25k

synopsis |

“If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back.”

Or in which, you are stranded in your university due to summer classes and you had a little reunion with your ex that you last saw two years ago.

a/n | this is part of @neo-cult-ure‘s summer collab! taglist | @cinanamon @jaesmintea @jungcity @seongghwaa @mjlkau @neoyoungho for helping me with proofreading. tags | @ethaeriyeol @yuta-nakitamoto @suhweo @neocity-sarai @jaeminsmainbitch @the32ndbeat @bumblebeenct @cloudynakamoto @solecize @moonlss @ceruleanskies @tzuqui @jungjeffr3y @neo-shitty @o-schist

muse | and this is based on the song summer by calvin harris, long flight by taeyong, call out my name, earned it by The Weeknd, pillowtalk by zayn, love me harder by ariana grande. there are literary quotes from The Notebook by nicholas sparks and The Great Gatsby by fitzgerald.

“The cows didn’t deserve this sight. You look like a moving potato sack.”

That one familiar voice, laced with precise mirthful nuance immediately stops you from your attempted zumba dances. Your head automatically snaps towards the door where he is currently leaning at. Even without looking, you could see the tugging of his lips that belonged to your one and only grumpy roommate and unfortunately best friend, Doyoung.

This is one of your routines, dancing carelessly in front of your open windows, to entertain the cows from the farm your dormitory is located at. They make such a great audience though, unlike the people from university.

People who? You don’t know her.

You lean over the table to shut down the speaker that blasts electronic music.

The morbid greetings are never new to you anymore. In fact these greeting exchanges are normal, and an inside joke no one will understand but you and him.

Doyoung looks like he recently woke up from his grave. With a sullen face and eye bags that are too dark, it stands out amongst his pallorness. Being a pol-sci student surely makes the stunning Kim Doyoung a disaster.

He enters your room with coffee in hand and plops himself comfortably on the blue plush seats you two had managed to haul at the local thrift shop. This is Kim Doyoung with his disheveled morning look—his curly hair and baggy sweatpants but hail thee heavens, he still looks majestic and it’s unfair. He gulps a mouthful of his morning coffee. At this point you have made the conclusion that coffee is what kicks him in the morning, if not, daily.

You gawk at the tall boy before you, bracing yourself for his never ending list of snarky remarks —about you, your ridiculous pajamas, the cows which you don’t understand either, college, his debates, how emotional the girls are in his department and it pisses him off, how capitalism sucks, do soulmate exists? And if yes, it’s bullshit and what not. Nevertheless, you do understand his points since both of you share a deep seated bond and a like for misanthropy. Despite his ear-splitting and sometimes provocative rants, it had never failed to boost you. Albeit you hate early morning scolds, Kim Doyoung and his banters are an exception.

“Potato who? I am an exceptional dancer.” You grin while whipping your hair dramatically.

On cue, Doyoung’s eyes roll heavenwards. What a dramatic king. “How is that even possible?”

You shrug. “They moo-ed at me longer than their usual moo-s. Look!” You point at the brown cow staring back at you while nibbling grass.

Doyoung didn’t bother to peek at your window. Instead, he shakes his head in dismay while sipping again on his black coffee. “You need to seek help, you’re unbelievable.”

“Me and the cows just have a deep-seated relationship and they are far more supportive than your grumpy ass.”

Doyoung didn’t answer you. He shifts again in his seat, his long legs folding in an uncomfortable angle. Doyoung winces as he settles his mug on the table just adjacent from the plush seat. He gives you a concerned look, “Anyways, enough with the cows. How is your major going? You look dead.”

“So are you.”

“I’m stunning, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Bickering with him will be a waste of a time.

It's 8:30 am and truth be told, you are not ready to go to your university especially when the impending torment awaits for your arrival.

Your lips tug upward, an acrimonious smile painting your lips. If there’s something you want to talk about early in the morning, it would rather be about politics, rabbits, anything but your college department. The attempt in pulling an all-nighter yesterday night isn’t enough to lessen the never ending stack of paperwork your professors are demanding and talking about it would just fuel up your frustrations. “If the team won’t cooperate in the defense,” you sigh. “Summer.”

In an instant, Doyoung’s lips tugs into a shit-eating grin. Those smiles that hold such malice that shouts ‘you’re a worst case’. Being the sinister human being he is, he didn’t waste this opportunity to throw you his judgement. “For what I know college students should never be… negligent.” He drags out those words slowly like reciting to a child, making sure you do understand what the hell he is talking about and giving full emphasis on the last word that he said.

You immediately retort back, defensive. “I am! I mean… I am not!”

“I am not saying you are… but your groupmates.”

“They are…”

His feline eyes are as dark as his hair while he studies you. He’s feigning fake enthusiasm while raising his brows up cockily. “Yeah?”

You inwardly let out a whine. “Yeah. Now. Shut up Kim Doyoung.”

He chuckles. “What? I’m not saying anything!”

You huff. “After all this crap, I will seriously go out for a vacation,” you pause. “And I won’t tag you in, bitch!”

He rolls his eyes, “How despicable.”

“Seriously though, I don’t want to spend my time in university, it’ll kill the remaining sanity left in me.”

Overly confident, you want to smack the shit out of him. He shrugs. “I know. Good thing I’m an ace.”

You roll your eyes and throw your plushie towards his direction. But the devil incarnate has the deities on his side because the pillow didn’t budge nor hit him at all.

“Excuse me, mister right. Sorry to pop your bubble but remember? Your professor is still frustrated at the bull crap you pulled.” Your lips immediately tugging upwards upon the memory of him blabbing out incoherently to you like a child, intoxicated with alcohol while flunking classes. All of it because he’s, according to him, an ace.

“And what was that you were yelling at the corridors?” You try and recall the song he keeps on yelling in the top of his lungs while the people are shooting him dirty looks, “Young, dumb, young, young, dumb and bro-oh-ke…”

You wheeze while clutching your stomach. Good thing he got a nice voice, but still it was embarrassing. As if on cue, the stressed-out, disheveled Kim Doyoung wipes his face dramatically in humiliation. You’re both entertainers in your own ways, but he makes himself really stand out without him even trying.

If Kim Doyoung’s life is a movie, you’d literally spend your dollars to watch him over and over again.

“How’s your horse?” And you burst into fits of laughter.

A distressed groan escapes Doyoung’s lips upon the memory. “Can you please not?”

You shake your head no, still laughing upon the memory. He glares in your direction, his hawk-like eyes staring back at you with such vexation.

It’s a mistake for him to actually choose to drink rather than preparing for a major presentation that he messed up with big time. While drunk, he answered his professor’s inquiry with, ‘I don’t have a thing for voyeurism though, my horse is not down for it’. His professor is too infuriated at his answer and his laid back attitude, she gave him a big fat 60% mark as payback. What a damn ace, truly, ace of all clowns.

“I just hoped the case study could help me. I didn’t know that the case presentation was worth 60% of my grade!”

“You should join a pageant sometime.”

“Fuck, no.”

“Well, you’re famous as well as your answer. Imagine the school paper desperate just to have your comment published?” You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

His suggestive answer spreads out in the university like wildfire. If you could remember the quote, “Attention Ladies! Doyoung is quite reserved as his ‘horse’ is quite shy”, no public canoodling!

Doyoung is so furious when he sees the whole article, that he wants to sue the journalism club for defamation. But they immediately bribe him with a percentage, because the profits were surprisingly high because he’s featured in. Kim Doyoung is quite popular unlike you. He is a Pol-Sci student, and that made him proactive about social issues that you sometimes wanted to shut him out. He never stops talking about capitalism. And not to mention his fanbase— he has the looks, brain even if he barely uses it, and part of a famous sorority house. High number of admirers are really expected.

He makes a face. That’s what you get when you enter one of your classes intoxicated with gin and bullshit. Yolo, Kim Doyoung.

“Stop laughing,” he scowls.

Doyoung clears his throat and diverts the subject, “Have you tallied the responses?”

“Oh, shit.” You shift yourself in your bed. A ballpen strikes your ass and a ruler snaps in half the moment you tried to move again in your spot.

You wince. “I told Regina about it, and guess what?”

“Spill.”

“She fucking forgot about the methodology. I’m going insane!”

You stand up and grab the print-outs of your unfinished research paper. Doyoung brings the cup to his lips while watching you scurry back and forth in your room. You leave your room, only to return once again to gape at your best friend. The lack of sleep is taking a toll on you early in the morning, and all you want to do is to wrap yourself in your fuzzy blankets and binge watching Netflix. After all, it’s exciting to watch with the academic deadlines chasing after every episode you attempt to watch.

Your best friend’s lips instantly curl upward and you register that the words he’ll be spatting out will slap the shit out of you “You still have to interpret the results, though.”

“Bloody hell.” You groan loudly.

He grins smugly. “I really hope you won’t bawl your eyes out, but you still have a big nut to crack open.”

You were about to retort back but something had hit you. Your face painting an aghast expression, you cussed again, “Oh shit, the math homework?”

“Bingo.” His smirk widens at your stressed out face. “And the deadline is today.”

Why do you still have maths in your course? It’s ridiculous.

Despite him being annoying at all times, you are still happy that Doyoung is at your side. He is a blessing in disguise. He somewhat remembers all the things you have mentioned to him like homeworks and other things and makes fun of you because you‘re such a fucking goner. Having the habit of doing something at the drop of a hat then to procrastinate and cram it all out like a madwoman.

You manage to get through this bad habit of yours when your ex helped you back in the day. But now that he’s gone, all your mannerisms are flooding in like crazy.

You heave a long sigh of frustration. “Why, why, the hell did I choose to watch Riverdale instead of doing my maths?”

You stare at his dark orbs dancing with pure amusement.

He shrugs at your outbursts. “I have been telling you. You’re too distracted.”

You, per contra, immediately run to your bed and grab the nearest paper lying on the end with a bold ‘biochemistry’ printed on the topmost part of the paper. You toss the paper to Doyoung’s direction and continued on doing the searching operation of your long-lost math homework.

Doyoung clicks his tongue, finding the scowl on your face entertaining. “I just saw that paper! Now I can’t see it!”

You stomp your feet in annoyance.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. He knows exactly where this will go. He counts.

Three. Two. One.

You wail. “Kim Doyoung! I cannot find it!”

“You should learn to search using your fucking eyes! Jesus Christ, you’re unbelievable,” he sighs, running his lithe hands through his raven locks. From the sound of his sigh, you know he’s tired of dealing with your constant bullshit.

“You have your eyes for a reason. For searching! Don’t use your mouth, Y/N,” he paused. Your homework is on the table.” Then he pointed at the coffee table.

“You’re lucky I’m being nice here. I’d rather hide that paper from you and watch you fail because you just lost a fucking piece of paper.”

You grimace, “You’re one hell of --”

You see how Doyoung’s face morphed in a whole 180 turn before the blink of your eye. From being calm to sinister. He mumbles, his tone so deep and malign. But you can hear him, “If you continue on. I will never, ever, help you with your essays. Carry on your GPA.”

What a hypocritical bitch.

Doyoung exactly knows how and where to push your buttons.

A whirlpool of emotions washes over you, and panic is the main cherry on top. It’s been an unspoken rule among both of you, that if ever who’s at rock bottom, the other half shall lift the rock no matter how heavy it is. And unfortunately, you're the rock and Doyoung has been helping you all through this time to somehow pass and manage your assignments. He’s been complaining how he is suffering from back pain due to carrying you all over the place.

You huff, clenching your fist to control the forming irritation in your gut, “For the sake of my peace, I wanna punch you. But yes, thank you, bitch.”

He mimics you, “Welcome bitch.”

Approaching his seat, you plop yourself comfortably on the floor. “Now how do I do this?”

Doyoung tilts his head to the side to cast a greater view of your paper and his face immediately scrunches. “Mean and deviation? I have taught you how to get them, right?”

You groan out. “I forgot.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course you forgot about it,” he curls his lips to a frown. “But remembering handsome boys, you ain’t slick… wait… what’s my name again?”

“Gross.”

He snatches the paper from your hold with a scowl and begins scribbling the answers. He mumbles loud enough for you to hear, “You weren’t like this when he was here. You’re too distracted.”

You frown upon the mention of your ex. Doyoung is right, you suck up big time when your ex left you to pursue his career.

Doyoung hands the paper back to you. Glancing at your homework, he had answered the first two numbers and the rest were blank. Your mouth presses into a thin line while attempting to answer the rest, following the solutions and steps of Doyoung from above.

He lifts the mug to his lips and gulps the remaining coffee. A vibration from his pocket catches his attention. Doyoung fishes for his mobile phone and his eyes almost bulge out upon the text he just received. The screen illuminates his slender face.

[from TY Track] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well.

Glancing from your peripheral vision; you know he must’ve received some dirty text again with the way his eyes bulge out of his sockets and a faint blush of pink that has been kissing his cheeks. You were not sure from whom though but it could be from the lists of girls in your mind that you’ve once texted out to ‘fuck off’ as per Kim Doyoung.

It happens daily and you are somewhat forced to answer them back because he’s been begging you to get rid of them. His ways of swatting the girls are really insurmountable. There is this time you thought he’s sending in dick pic (you almost threw a victory dance) but in reality he was just sending a picture of his beautiful middle finger followed by blocking or sometimes a ‘get lost, I don’t like you’.

You grin at the thought of Doyoung dirty texting but it’s borderline impossible. The amount of suitors is surprisingly high for a grumpy Kim Doyoung but he dismisses them all. You don’t know why he doesn’t open up opportunities for commitment, but it isn’t your business to mess with. After all, you couldn't blame them, his whole frat boy demeanor is really a lovely sight to look at.

His mouth opens then closes followed by his eyes widening like he couldn’t believe the sight at his screen. You let out an airy chuckle while computing for the mean. “You got yourself a fubu? Shall we call in Alpha chi Omega and celebrate?”

His brows automatically furrow while hiding his phone away from your sight, in defense. Your conclusions forming like endless swirls in your mind at the sight of him being so, aloof. You shoot out a grin.

“What the fuck? No!”

Your brows automatically shoot upward and you raise your hands still grinning widely. “Woah, chill, lover boy.”

Never in Doyoung’s life he plays cupid, because he thinks love is ridiculous. But he might as well play one for the sake of two broken hearts still yearning for each other. Doyoung knows he’s still not over you and you are still thinking about him even if you don’t admit.

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around.

Two months and two weeks prior to Taeyong’s homecoming.

Ragged breaths resonate around the boxing circle. The crowd is expectant, holding in their breath while watching the neck to neck fight.

Chan is lying on the floor, his chest rising heavily with every breath he takes. His coach is yelling profanities from the farthest corner, urging him to get his ass up and fight. He hears the muffled rambunctious screaming of the crowd and the loud EDM music blaring inside the gymnasium followed by the irritating ringing in his ears.

With Taeyong’s strike on his right ear, his balance fucks up and he can’t bring himself on his feet. Chan’s eyesight is getting worse, seeing occasional stars here and there. If it wasn’t for the gym’s blinding spotlight and camera flashes, he would really think that he got blind. Despite the large ring they are currently in, the atmosphere feels heavy, thick, and choking. The place stinks of cigarettes, sweat and blood. The floors were slightly wet with their perspiration. There’s overall tension, but violence is above it all.

Taeyong wipes the blood that spluttered from his mouth from Chan’s jab. He runs towards the corner where his team is at. Taeil immediately scrambles to his feet to get inside the ring to wipe off his sweat. Taeyong feels extreme exhaustion while staring back at Taeil under hooded eyes. He is running a tongue over his mouthpiece and rests his head on the ring’s metal post.

The referee enters the ring with a mic in hand then approaches the younger boxer. The referee pounds his fist onto the white mat, yelling numbers, “One!”

A pause. Then there is another pound. This time with much more force than the previous pound. “Two!”

Chan’s eyes flicker open at the countdown. His bruised eyes widening at the sound of his coach’s constant fire of profanities. Get up Bang Chan! Get the hell up! And so he did. Before the referee could shout the last number, three, Chan slightly jerks his shoulder, lifting his gloved hands then he tilts his torso to his right, raising up to his toes completely. Chan wobbles slightly while setting his posture up in full defense mode.

The referee makes a dash, excluding himself from the ring. Taeyong walks towards the center, his stance is set with his gloved hand raised up for defense. Chan’s appearance is rough. With blood covering most of his torso, there are occasional hues of yellow, purple and blue lingering on the younger boxer’s cheeks and eyes, one of his eyebrows split open blood pooling down mixing with his sweat, his plump lips is swollen and busted as if he had been stung by a bee.

Taeyong approaches the opponent carefully. Defense still high and not breaking eye contact. He knows how jumbled Chan is. Continuing on pushing himself further will just cause him harm— both mentally and physically. Due to Chan’s swollen right eye he can’t see Taeyong clearly. Throwing out jabs clumsily.

After contemplating for a few, Chan throws a counterpunch but Taeyong is quick enough to throw a combination that interrupts the younger mid-way. Chan musters his remaining strength to launch out a strike but Taeyong immediately dodges and springs forward to throw a blow on his jaw.

Chan can see spirals swimming in his vision that made him pause. With a disarranged mind, all he could do was to clinch on his opponent’s shoulder, breathing hard, bodies colliding with each other. The referee immediately steps in, breaking them apart. The crowd roars with both enthusiasm and dismay.

Taeyong made the final move, shooting his last blow on Chan’s stomach that made the young boxer fall with a loud thud. The crowd erupts with extreme exhilaration.

The emcee’s voice booms through the gymnasium’s speakers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen after twelve rounds of action we go to the scorecards. We have a unanimous decision in favor of the winner none other than boxing’s pride of Seoul, Lee Taeyong! The one and only, current WBA welterweight champion of the world! Lee ‘Kingpin’ Taeyong!”

Taeyong approaches Chan’s figure at the other side of the ring and gives him his warmest regards. Taeyong watches the intimate moment shared between the Aussie and his significant other. As sweet folks say, loving kisses can wipe out exhaustion. Touché.

Taeyong is sure that the younger boxer has potential and could make his boxing career stretch far with an obtained score of 116. Taeyong is in Chan’s situation once, losing then going home with a fucked up face. Everything is consuming— especially in boxing. Fatigue, face, dignity— but it is all about the commitment. It took Taeyong several eyebrow cuts just to achieve his current position. Before he was well-known as the Kingpin, he was once a loser. With high pressure, diamonds are formed.

Victory is so sweet. Yet the Kingpin still feels empty. He misses those moments when he was still a nobody; someone will run inside the gym just to pepper him kisses and him dodging cause he’s all sweaty. Or the steamy make out sessions usually in his Mustang after every class. The late night sex in his room. He wants to turn back time, he missed experiencing it all, everything. It hurts for him to admit but he missed someone that is dear to him. Someone that is his life. Those memories cease the moment he decided to choose this career, boxing. He thought, was it worth it? Is selecting boxing really did give him the utmost happiness? Was it worth exchanging you for this career? After his several attempts of questioning himself, Taeyong couldn’t still answer whether all of this makes him happy or it’s just complete bullshit.

His team jumps in the ring full of excitement. Taeil is showing him an ear to ear grin while wiping off his face. Taeyong winces as Taeil is too overwhelmed, vigorously wiping over his cuts. “Hyung, I’m not a car, stop wiping my face like a wiper.”

Taeil giggles. “Oh. Sorry.”

His manager approaches him, sliding the heavyweight gold belt over his shoulder. The manager leans over to whisper a strong ‘congratulations’. Taeyong nods back, unable to contain his glee. He grins at the crowd and pumps his fist in the air. The crowd are screaming for his name and his victory.

All hail, Kingpin.

“Taeyong.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicker shut. It’s only been five minutes since Taeyong submerged in the cylinder shaped chamber full of ice, but for him it feels like forever. The water stings and the cold is there, but it eats away the soreness nevertheless. Taeyong grits his teeth, fucking five minutes feels like eternity. He tries to divert his attention to anything but the stopwatch clipped on the cylinder’s edge.

A voice calls him again. Taeil. “Taeyong.”

The boxer breathes. “Yes. Hold on.”

The timer beeps. Taeil approaches the cylinder bath to snatch the beeping device.

Taeyong rises to his full height with the water swaying after him and the ice floating around the bath. Taeyong grips the edge and jumps out.

Taeil approaches him with a towel in hand. The boxer grabs the fluffy fabric and wraps it around his bare torso still shivering from the aftermath of his post-match routine. The soreness from the fight subdues. Taeyong holds the fabric to his head to towel dry his silver locks.

Taeil begins, “There’s something the manager will tell you.”

Taeyong shoots out a look towards him, his face immediately contorting into confusion. “About what?”

Taeil shrugs. He plops down to the bench and drops the athletic bag. The steel bench creaks as he rummages through the bag and throws a pair of boxers, sweatpants and a black tank top towards Taeyong.

The boxer grunts, snatching the clothes mid-air with his right hand. “Geez. You could’ve handed it to me, hyung.”

Taeil faces him and settles the bag. A tired sigh escapes his lips. “I’m not in favor of what he’s gonna say to you.”

Taeyong’s brow furrows. “Why? Wait, what is it about?”

Taeil leans back on the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. “You’re familiar with the gung-ho McGregor aren’t you?”

Taeyong’s eyes narrow as he tries to recall the familiar name. Damn, Chan’s smack must’ve shaken his brain. “The suspended boxer?”

Taeil nods and crosses his arms. “He’s actually back and wants to hold a match with you.”

Taeyong fidgets on his spot awkwardly. Water droplets drip down his chest. It’s fucking cold. For heaven’s sake he’s just in his black boxers.

“Can I change first?”

Taeil shakes his head and holds a finger to shut him out. “This is an important matter, kid.”

Taeyong scowls. “It’s fucking cold!”

He stops bickering back upon the sight of Taeil’s glare. Taeyong sighs, “We rejected them, right?”

“Yes. But backstage, Alexis’s manager opened up the matter to the manager again.”

Taeyong’s brows knot. “I just got into a fight. Can you talk it out with the manager?”

Taeil grimaces. “You know how my words don’t have an effect on him.”

Taeil continues on, “Besides, you are never the alibi type. If there’s a fight, you fight. That is how they know you. So it won’t work, unless you got pregnant? But that’s borderline fucking impossible.”

Taeyong didn’t argue back since Taeil has a point. Alibis are not really favorable especially in the world of boxing, unless you’re at death's door.

Taeil continues. “McGregor’s team promised a percentage if you let him win.”

“What the fuck?” Absolutely never.

A knock disrupts the two. Taeil straightens himself while Taeyong readjusts the towel resting on his hair.

Manager Oh enters the room. The two male cannot read the gloomy look on the manager’s face as the atmosphere is quite tense.

The manager gulps and begins to speak. “I reckon Taeil has told you about the matter,” the manager pauses. “We’ll accept the deal. The fight will be pushed through.”

Taeyong’s ears piques as he begins to feel annoyed. “Without consulting me? If it wasn’t for Taeil hyung, I wouldn’t know.”

Manager Oh breaths. “They promised to sponsor everything for your UBT.” He halts again, trying to select the right words to cajole the boxer. “That’s your goal, right?”

The Universal Boxing Tournament is something elite, big, and wild. It isn’t just Taeyong’s goal but every boxer. The payments in the matches are double the fee he usually receives. Although the chance of fighting in the big event is at Taeyong’s palm, it left him in a state of deep conflict. He’s done being the sparring partner— or a punching bag of someone else. He’d establish himself and the idea of stooping down just for the benefit of others greatly dismays him.

Taeyong strokes his nape. “It is one of my goals— dream, even. But I’m not sure, manager. I’m done being a punching bag.”

Manager Oh rubs his eyes. “I know…it’s just that McGregor is coming back and having a match with you could guarantee popularity for him.”

Taeil shakes his head in dismay but he never utters a word.

The boxer is still unconvinced.

The manager sighs. “He’s cleared of steroid usage.”

Taeyong squints. “What if he does it again pre-match? Then that cancels the match, what about the UBT spot they’ve promised?”

“You don’t have to worry about that… we have a written contract.”

Taeil shakes his head in disappointment. This rash decision of the team is what they'll be regretting later especially when an informal agreement is raised up. It won’t guarantee a spot to a big fight that easily. It’s like chasing dust.

Taeyong inquires further. “When is this?”

“Next month. We'll grind to prepare you.”

Taeyong knows how sicko McGregor can be in the ring. He has seen some clips of his matches. But if it means being in UBT, he’ll go. “Alright.”

The manager stands up, brushing his pants. “We’ll move locations. I have a gym near the University you graduated from.”

The kingpin will return to the place where he started from rock bottom. It suddenly fills him with nostalgia. His two managers left the room for him to do his thing. Taeyong quickly grabs his phone and texted Doyoung, notifying him of his upcoming arrival.

[Compose Message to: doie] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well.

His phone screen illuminates his striking face as he waits for a reply. Taeyong settles his phone down on the counter to ruffle his hair but Doyoung already responded. His phone vibrates.

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around. The boys (and someone xD) will surely be glad to see you. Aja!

Taeyong grins. He’s excited to go home as well. A thought lingers on his mind, who’s the ‘someone’ Doyoung is referring to?

The sun is ebbing its way to daylight. It is the day of your defense or as Doyoung calls it doomsday or the Purge. Doyoung left you instructions on how to answer the panel smoothly without having the impression that you’re clueless.

He never spoon feeds you rather letting you do everything on your own. For this defense, he told you to shut up and not blab anything unless asked. And he adds, ‘answer straight to the point and don’t fucking sugarcoat’. Professors grill students until you could no longer retaliate, they are spawns of satan and you are so sure of that.

This defense is the most stressful thing you encounter in your whole college life. An abomination, breaking people apart. Recitations are an exception though as you could always adlib like the stunt Doyoung pulled in his major classes.

The moment you set foot on the university grounds, you hear the cacophony of deafening alarm bells, signalling the students of the start of the first period. You sigh. Despite having to practice the day before (and practically being scolded and grilled by Doyoung), you still can’t calm your nerves. Your face immediately scrunches at the thought of summer classes.

The sun is shining through the large oval in your university. Beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. Swarm of boisterous students walked side by side. talking about the same exact thing that has been swimming in your mind lately-- summer. Alas, the whole semester of dread is coming to an end and you cannot longer wait to wear the pink leotard Doyoung jokingly bought you for your birthday. You head straight north passing by the department of physical education. You see the soccer players, in their mighty, flashy maroon uniforms, running over the field. You immediately recognize the familiar figure of Johnny and the way the curvature of his ass sticks out of his shorts. Not that you really enjoy ogling at his ass though but it ain’t just another ass. It's Johnny Seo’s ass, popular, might as well stare at the divine sight before he charges everyone for it. You know of the big guy since you’re living in a small world, he’s friends with your best friend and a good pal of your ex boyfriend. Everything around you will always connect with either Doyoung or your ex.

Johnny has a reputation like Doyoung though. But unlike your best friend being known as a snob, Johnny is known for his massive dick and palpable cockiness in bed. He senses your stare and cranes his neck around to face you. His teammates behind him huddle together to ogle at the female their captain is looking at. He smiles at your direction then waves at you enthusiastically from the field. Lips curl into a smile while giving him a wave. You hear rambunctious woos and boyish whistles from behind when you continue on walking towards your building. Boys.

The familiar mint green building is now in sight. You hug the folders close to your chest like it’s your armor while taking a sharp turn. It leads you down to the right wing but as soon as you are about to enter, a large signage of ‘use the main door’ blocks your way. Your annoyance reaches its peak level while shooting daggers at the locked door. You contemplate, if you were to make a dash for the main door that is a meter away from here, you’ll be late for the first period. And professors always makes the tardy students sing in front and never in your fucking life will do that.

A shout startles you in your place. “Son of a bitch!”

“What the hell are you doing there? Go to your room, dumbass.” Talking about the smart shit that just arrives with his sharp voice lacing with its usual deep suave and timbre that pierces your eardrums early in the morning. His building is just right beside yours. So whether you like it or not, Doyoung will be in sight to annoy the shit out of you like he usually does.

You turn to him. Going to the canteen to eat is tempting but the thought of disappointing Kim Doyoung and his efforts going to waste bites you off. “I’m nervous.”

The female students are eyeing both of you— most are stinky glares from his fangirls. You take a sharp breath and hoist up the strap of your bag properly.

“Just remember what I’ve told you. And don’t abash yourself.” He ruffles your locks and you immediately swat his arm away. The squeals of the girls from behind obliterates both of your gossamer thin patience and remaining one brain cell. Needless to say, you walk up the pathway towards the main door of your building.

The thick choking atmosphere welcomes you. The happy color of mint green from its interior doesn’t conceal the melancholy of the people inside. You hear an upcoming call of your name, but you couldn’t apprehend it clearly because of the continuous murmurs in the hallway. “Y/N!”

You let out a groan of abhorrence as you whip your body around upon the call. But there isn’t a familiar face to chit chat with so you proceed forward but the wind knocked out of your lungs when you were suddenly yanked from behind.

You are about to throw profanities when Dia’s face comes to view greeting you sweetly, “Hi, Y/N!”

You attempt to smile but it looks like you’re suffering with constipation with all your teeth gritted together, “Hey!”

Dia begins. “I can’t wait for the sem to end!” She beams enthusiastically while clinging onto your arms. You struggle to climb the stairs with her hips hitting you sideways.

“Me too.” You exhale while gathering your thoughts. Your minds a mess with the conclusion, summer outfit and the swarm of murmurs of the students in the stairwell. “I plan on getting a tan though or skinny dripping, I don’t know.”

“Oh my! Yes!” she laughs while tugging her lips out almost lost in thought. “Alpha chi Omega is actually planning on a homecoming party.” She smiles cheekily that is way familiar for you. You immediately grin at her being such a saccharine babe.

You raise your brows. “Who’s coming home?”

She shrugs. “I dunno.”

You frown while lost in thought . “Then how did you know about it?”

Dia waggles her eyebrows, a mischievous glint lighting in her eyes. “Of course. I keep tabs on the packing king, Johnny Seo.”

You grimace. “Huh? Packing? Where is Johnny going? I thought it’s a homecoming?”

Dia rolls her eyes heavenwards. You are being so impossible. “Packing as in walking around with a huge dick. My god, are you from the 90s?”

“I’m not. I just don’t go around ogling at... what you call him? Packing Prince.” You make a puking face.

Dia laughs while you mumble under your breath, “You are unbelievable.”

She clicks her tongue and leans in while shushing the words near your year, “I’m not though… hey you wanna know what’s unbelievable?”

It piques your attention, “What?”

“Johnny has the bomb-est ass ever. Like a hundred over ten, would recommend.”

You retreat back and scowl. She laughs at your impending disappointment. But she’s right though, in fact you saw a sight of Johnny’s ass early in the morning. Bomb it is. You shake your head, but a smile is tugging your lips upright, “Whatever you say so.”

Dia is still laughing, spreading positivity in the already sullen hallway in the ground floor. It didn’t last long as you both part ways upon the sight of room 402. You huff, trying to recollect your breath. Stairways will be the cause of your death. Your classmates are either feigning optimism or just dead tired. A voice booms out, alerting the class. You glance and see the person behind the said misery.

“Groups one, kindly present in front. Get ready groups three and five. Say hi to the panel of judges.”

“What in the fucking world?”

“You should have seen it coming.”

“The biggest bugbear of my life is spending summer in university instead of the beach!”

Doyoung gives you a nonchalant look. He immediately pays a visit to your building upon hearing your never-ending cusses at the call a while ago. He stands by the door of your room while his arms are crossed.

He begins, “At least you’re alive, though.”

Doyoung’s lips curling into a mischievous smirk. He cannot hide the fact that he’s impressed that you didn’t undergo a breakdown unlike your classmates and your control towards unyielding resilience.

“I’m not close to being alive. I am deteriorating!” You groan making sure to imbue your tone to complete sarcasm. You thought that the research defense is the endpoint of the semester, but it wasn’t since the professors have something bigger to offer-- more diabolical. The dean of your college disseminates the mandatory summer classes on all year levels to avoid the crashing of major subjects with organization stuff and to somehow lessen the unit overload. The idea is beneficial albeit disheartening especially for those students who already had plans for the summer like you. What a sweet summer in the university. You shoot him out a look, “How are you alive? Despite all of this?”

“Heavy workload and org stuff is the thing that haunts every student. My professor has consulted me about this matter beforehand,” he grabs his phone and glances at it. His chinky eyes widen and he clears his throat. “We’ll be pushing the brave run next sem.”

“Is that the annual event of your sorority that you’ll be running around in the campus, naked?”

Doyoung hisses. “Shut up. It should be kept a secret,” he shrugs. “But, yes.”

Another fact why his sorority is famous among the female students of the university. The brave run is an annual event held by his sorority, which symbolizes "a selfless offering of one's self to the people of the country.’ Running around naked with a mask to conceal their identities. And it’s going to be Doyoung’s first run. He fidgets in his spot while looking at you then at his phone. You cast him a doubtful look, “Do you need some privacy or whatever?”

He looks straight from your shoulder. “No, no. Stay put.”

“I wanna sit. I was standing for hours in front a while ago.”

Doyoung presses his lips in a thin line. He lamely mutters. “I will show you something.” He keeps on fidgeting in his place while glancing sideways. It deeply concerns you because he’ll look at his phone then will grin afterwards. Doyoung never grins. What in the world?

He certainly knows something that you’re completely oblivious about. His phone buzzes again.

[from TY Track] [1:15] I thought your building is white one? How come you’re in a green one? You have a girlfriend from the nursing department don’t you? Ayeeeeeeeee. [1:19] im at the third floor lobby,, where are you?? I’m starving!!

Doyoung is on the fourth floor. Currently playing cupid.

He gives you a look with a shit-eating grin lingering on his slender face. Not that he looks unpleasant to the eyes since he’s far away from it but rather handsome. But it greatly aggravates you because since that one message he received this morning, he just won’t knock it off with the annoying grin of his. You really need to know who the hell is responsible for his change of demeanor.

Doyoung is the most misanthropic person you know and he always frowns. Unless he’s with his male friends or with you. Let he’ll freeze first then you’ll see him smile to his ears. He holds a finger near your face, “Wait here.”

You swat his wrist away but before you could knock him off, he’s already marching down the hall.

“Kim Doyoung! Wait!”

You let out an exasperated sigh while playing with your lace to kill out boredom. Dia whistles to capture your attention. You return back inside your room to fix your things and to entertain the sulky Dia. She pouts, “I’m seriously starving! Let’s go to def!”

Def is the university’s cafeteria where both you and the guy who made your heart pound, met.

“Okay hold on. Let me sign the attendance sheet for a while.” You approach the class secretary seated in front. Your back is against the door and a familiar figure looms near the door frame—looking lost.

You’re playing in a full deck. Unaware of the guy who’s once your life, standing behind you.

Taeyong and his team leaves Busan early at four in the morning with the yellow and pink hue of the sky slowly creeping along its way eating out the velvety dark skies. Taeyong drags his feet heavily against the grey pavement with his athletic bag hoisted on his shoulders. The early morning wind gives a chill blow that prickles the skin of the boxer.

Taeil is walking behind him with his daily black coffee in hand and face sullen due to drowsiness. The team is moving at a fast pace and occasional long sighs are heard. Taeyong gawks at the team moving dumbbells, mats, gloves and belts in their black van.

“Does your sorority know you’re coming home?”

Taeyong stares at his manager. His lips tugging upwards. “Yes. I’ve texted one of my friends and suddenly they’re throwing a homecoming party for me.” Taeyong’s chest vibrates with laughter.

Taeil’s lips tugs upward in mischief as he knocks the hood of the van breaking the deafening silence of the early morning. The team immediately scramble inside the van like ants fighting off with seats, dirty banters and shades being thrown against each other.

“I’ll sit here!” “It’s cold in that spot, I didn’t take a bath!” Another spits. “The handsomest is gonna seat beside the Kingpin.” Another voice holler. “Oi. Oi. No!”

The manager let out a tired sigh while adjusting the shoulder bag on his right shoulder. He reaches for his back pocket and wipes the droplets of sweats on his temple. “Let’s go, before these guys kill themselves.”

He calls out with a stern tone rolling out of his tongue it immediately calms the chaotic boys, sheepishly fixing themselves while uttering incoherent apologies. They begin filling up with the manager taking the empty spot beside the driver’s seat. The rest scatter themselves on the spots they deem as comfortable.

Taeil shoots Taeyong a knowing look and juts his head towards the empty seat beside him near the driver’s seat. Taeil reclines his back on the leathered seats and heaves a long tired sigh. “It’s good to be back. I wish they were preparing roses for your comeback. It felt like Disney, like for shits really.”

Taeyong grins. “Doyoung and Johnny told me about it. Alpha is scrambling like ants.”

Taeil’s voice lowers for a second. His thoughts are swimming in an endless swirl of abyss. “Fighting with McGregor could cause you collateral damage.”

The boxer rests his hand on his nape and closes his eyes for a moment. He knows. He whispers, “I know. May the odds play with my side.”

“This is not about the odds now, he could destroy you, I’m serious!” Taeil scoffs while scanning the view of the early and still asleep city of Busan. “Namjoon fought with him once, and the boy went home with broken ribs and hand fractures,” he trails. “It’s still early to back out. I’m really worried.”

“I am already destroyed, hyung. Ever since I chose this over engineering and leaving like I could really live through all of this…”

“Hyung, if I back out… all of these would just be a whole damned joke.”

“Please…don’t take McGregor easily.”

Taeyong attempts to dismiss the growing anxiety in his chest. One step at a time. One punch at a time, one round at a time. He sets a self mantra. “I won’t.”

The heavy traffic greets them the moment they make their way to the city arriving exactly at twelve. Upon arrival, the team immediately unloads their baggage on the gym’s connected apartment while the manager nurses several calls about the match with the upcoming weigh in, face off, and budgets.

Taeyong glances at the gym’s interior. It's a rundown one with a large ring in the center, barbell and dumbbells on the floor and a large mirror from across where he is standing. The lights flicker above him, casting a warm glow of yellow on his face. Taeil squeezes his shoulder, surprised at how he’s so rigid. Taeil begins, “Johnny gave me a call and he said that you should get your flat ass in the university.”

Taeyong throws his head back, mortified. “What? Okay, fat ass.”

Taeil rolls his eyes. “My ass is bomb.”

Taeyong raises his brows. “Squatting?”

“Yeah. Every night, wanna see?”

“I have my own ass.”

“Yeah…a flat one, unfortunately.”

Taeyong grimaces. “My ass is ‘bomb’ too.”

“Keep on dreaming flat ass.”

“Don’t be rude!”

The familiar name of the university greets Taeyong the moment he arrives. Doyoung notifies him of his whereabouts; in the medical department. Taeyong furrows his brows, just when did Doyoung shift his course? He said he’d die being a polsci student.

Taeyong carries himself towards the familiar sidewalk of this university where he graduated highschool and was supposed to study engineering at.

However his fate makes a whole turn when he’s casted by an agent when he’s buying bread from the downtown pancake house. And it all just happens just like that, him leaving all of a sudden, ending everything at his loved one’s disposal.

His boxer facade falters as soon as he steps foot on the familiar grounds. With him here, he isn’t the Kingpin rather just the ordinary Lee Taeyong. He moves agilely, a thing he learned in boxing. His skin shimmers under the hot glimmering sun with his perspiration glistening against his forearms. Taeyong’s doe eyes scans the tall college buildings, looking precisely for a ‘tall building that is colored green with a bunch of people wearing white uniforms’ as per Kim Doyoung.

A thought erupts in him, it’s been years since his last visit here. Everything before his eyes is entirely unknown for him. He spends a good minute searching for the building while running a hand over his silver locks that are haphazardly tousled in different directions.

He ignores the flirtatious call of the students. The girls let out exhilarating squeals when he asks about the building and points behind him. Just as he’s about to go, someone yanks his arm dragging him away towards the opposite direction that planted a frown upon his face. He tries to dismiss them as kindly as he could when he sees that there is no way that they’ll be letting him go especially when he looks like a hot mess.

There’s actually no use in flirting anymore as he’s still emotionally invested for one girl that is you.

His eyes trail over the unfamiliar building and contemplate for a good minute before entering. The aura of the place elicits the same vibe in the boxing gym of his manager, bright by nature but something elicits off-ness more on sombre.

His long legs easily climb the series of stairs until he reaches level three and glances around the place. Searching for the familiar figure of Kim Doyoung but he finds nothing even a silhouette of the boy. He fishes out for his phone to send him a text, the mobile vibrating after his taps.

[from doie] [1:17] we’ll eat later!!!1 i need to show you someone oops something11!! :D [1:18] i'm coming!!! hold on!! Waaait

Taeyong hears rapid footsteps then a high pitch call of his name. A sudden tackle takes him by surprise. “I missed you, hyung!”

Doyoung holds him at shoulder, his eyes examining his whole body. “You've grown so well and— damn.”

The boxer standing before him is drastically different from the person he last saw two years ago. He’s not as fit rather skinny but the way he puts it now he’s got a massive glow up that takes him by surprise. With Taeyong by growing inches, his skinny fit that is now lean that is packed with muscles due to the strenuous training he’s put into and the eye catching tattoos that're lingering on his arms. He smirks at the sight of your familiar face minimalistically tattooed on his forearm.

He inwardly chuckles. Fools.

Doyoung didn’t waste the fraction of his time and drags a protesting Taeyong all the way at level four. Taeyong throws a questionable look, “What are we here for? Is Donghyuck in Nursing? Wait… are we here for him?”

“You’ll see… and no, let the moon be green first then we’ll see him here.”

“Oh.”

A chill runs down Taeyong’s spine. The heavy traffic they went through made him thirsty to the bone—now he wanted to drain his bladder. He calls out while eyeing the figure ahead of him, “Doyoung?”

Doyoung answers him with a shit-eating grin that made Taeyong think to himself. Is Doyoung in love at the moment? “Yeah?”

“I need to pee. The traffic sucks, I had to drink to keep myself entertained.”

He hums, not processing every word Taeyong says. He calculates everything in his disposal. From his distance, he can see your back facing the door where he’ll lead Taeyong into. Thus, hitting two lovefools.

“Fancy. Go over to that room.” Taeyong glances at the room Doyoung is pointing at. He didn’t question the boy further because his bladder is asking for a fucking break. He slowly approaches the room while lost in his thoughts. He leans on the doorframe and asks where the lavatory is. Then, immediately jogs down the corridor without a word.

Doyoung stands there, expectant and all smiley. Until he sees a different face entertaining Taeyong and your figure marching away with your friend, Dia. Doyoung attempts to call for your attention but you’re already out of earshot. He clicks his tongue in irritation. Cupid fails.

You sluggishly drag your feet inside your room. Doyoung is nowhere to be found until you hear muffled singing so you reckon he’s in the shower doing his thing. You press your lips into a thin line while casting a look around your ransacked room that has been untouched for months. It may be the course of adrenaline pushing and so you cleaned.

Doyoung walks around the shared place without a top that isn’t a sight that makes you utterly surprised anymore. You both share collective memories together, all deep and humiliation. So seeing him in his boxers early in the morning isn’t disturbing anymore. You do though, when he smiles.

Doyoung squints, eyeing your figure going from one part of your room to another. He knows you don’t have plans on throwing yourself into the inviting city to lash out your stress from the months you have spent in university but rather dancing. Unbeknownst to you, he’s planning something to stop you from doing your ridiculous dances in front of the farm animals sparing them the ridiculous sight after all he’s an animal rights advocate.

Tonight is the homecoming party for Taeyong that surprisingly spreads out in the university like a wildfire. It will be damn-ed as the probability of both of you meeting might not be high due to the flood of party-goers rushing for the free alcohol and the said sorority and because of your lazy ass. Doyoung dons his blank tank top and ruffles the damp mop of raven locks above his head.

You glance from your door and see your best friend have an absolute glow up like he doesn’t look dead just from days ago. There’s no doubt that Doyoung has his own ravishing features-- his scar, tall nose, pink lips, and the over-all enticing eyes that elicits a mysterious aura.

“Where are you going?”

Instead of answering your inquiry he taps furiously on his phone. You can sense the infuriating spark that glowers on the boy. He finally looks up at you. “There’s a party in Alpha.”

“You’ll be staying there?”

He coos. The hidden sneer you can hear that rolls out of his tongue with great clarity that immediately brings your eyes heavenwards. “Why? You’ll miss me?”

“As if.”

“I will be staying there. You should go, though?” Doyoung absolutely knows how such a party pooper you were that you’d rather stay home than mingling in a random college party or whatever social gatherings. Your reason? The signature ‘I hate going out, Kim Doyoung’.

It is part of the practice of his sorority to give out roses to a homecoming member, as significant as a welcoming gift and roses have a deep meaning for the frat. He volunteers to bring the roses for Taeyong since he has a cupid business to attend. He purposely left the roses in his room for you to bring your lazy ass in the sorority house and deliver the parcel to Taeyong. He grins at the thought.

You grunt loudly, generally having no qualms on concealing your obvious irritation. “Why do you keep on grinning? It scares me.”

Doyoung raises a brow then chuckles afterwards. “I’m just happy that I will finally get laid after these past months of hellish semester,” he trails off and gives you a knowing look. “Bye!”

It got you off guard. Kim Doyoung getting laid?

He beams at your surprised face. “I will be late. The alumni might be there anytime soon.”

“Who is the alumni?” This has been the talk of the town next to the homecoming party. You have no idea who it is despite your best friend being in on the said sorority.

Doyoung runs his hands over his hair again and gives you a lopsided smile. “Secret.”

He makes a dash for the door leaving you hanging and hungry for answers. Knowing him, he’ll never spill no matter how you squeeze him into doing so. It frustrates you as curiosity is getting the best of you.

Doyoung didn't bother to spill the person because for all he knows you’ll be meeting him anytime soon. It’s Lee Taeyong.

It's eight in the evening and surprisingly you were being productive at bare minimum. You try to uplift your mood by beautifying your room to look like it’s been owned by a lady not some random drunktard. After cleaning, you prepare dinner but the constant ringing of your phone disturbs you mid-way. You didn’t spare the called ID a glance for you know who the call is from.

You snarl. “What?”

The chaotic music in his background is making it hard for you to comprehend what the hell he was trying to convey. His voice lowers two tones down his usual. “Hey, can you bring the roses here? I forgot to bring it with me.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “And why should I do that?”

Doyoung on the other hand is trying to rake up his brain for possible things to coax you to bring your ass and the roses in the party. The alcohol might be taking a toll on him but it’s helping him to think of an easy plan to bring you here without any questions arising from your mouth. “I’ll treat you to dinner.” And just like that.

You let your pride be damned. A free dinner is always a key to do favors. You huff. “Where is it placed?”

Doyoung immediately grins. “At my room, on the plush chair by the window.”

You cannot decipher how complicated your best friend is sometimes. It aggravates you. He never forgets his things and you think that he is doing this on purpose just to make you walk out of the shared apartment. But whatever his intentions are, the free dinner he coaxed you with is promising. You walk inside his room and the sight of his perfectly tucked bed welcomes you, the bundle of crimson red roses sits by the grey chair just beside his window. You didn’t know much of his sorority’s practice nor the significance of the rose, but you chose not to further question the frat’s motive behind it as the free food is your topmost concern.

You scramble out of Doyoung’s room to fix your dishevelled appearance. You grab the blue summer dress on your bed and thrash in an oversized cardigan to spice out the look then you pumped some gloss and ran a blusher on your cheeks.

Damn the man who spoils your plans on binge watching Netflix. Damn Kim Doyoung. And damn you for biting on his bait.

You made a beeline for the door, your phone in hand and the roses in the other.

It’s gonna be a long and young night.

For a summer night, the wind is surprisingly chilly and not humid. The night sky is clear with the stars twinkling brightly along the perfectly arched moon. The walk to Alpha chi omega’s house is not that long by car but unfortunately, the university carpool is not available and so here you were walking to the farthest side of the university.

It doesn’t take you long to locate the house out of all the similar frat houses lined up together like building blocks. The house that belongs to the hosting sorority is booming out loud with obnoxious music and the notable crowd of wasted college students going in and out of the main door. The place reeks of sweat and alcohol. The sight of red cups litters the front yard and the large ‘homecoming’ banner is perched up the front porch of the frat house. You feel out of place just by standing out there awkwardly with a bouquet of roses in hand while mentally cursing out and throwing imaginary daggers on Kim Doyoung. If it wasn’t for the free food, you would never be here.

A familiar ass caught your attention but it isn’t Johnny’s but Mark Lee’s. A sophomore and a civil engineer major that you bump into occasionally because of Doyoung. You approach his figure and his dishevelled state really caught you off-guard. He’s standing in his overall glory; with black tee that clings onto his lean torso and grey sweatpants. His high cheekbones stand out and his cheeks are slightly flushed due to two reasons you are sure of, alcohol and the cramped crowd inside.

You clear your throat as you attempt to voice out your concern however it comes out as a mere squeak. “Do you know where Doyoung is?”

Mark gives you a knowing smile while giving you directions on Doyoungs whereabouts. There’s something off about Mark’s sly smile. Confusion undulates on your soft features which made the younger grin even more.

Another sophomore jumps into the picture. He sends Mark reeling on his position but the younger boy shoots up a grin as an answer to Mark’s scowl. His tan skin glows under the poor lighting on the front porch of their sorority house and he looks beautiful nevertheless. Haechan brings the red cup to his plush lips, his throat bobbing down with every gulp of the beverage. He breaths while giving you a mischievous grin. “Well, someone’s about to cross paths with someone.” He makes sure to give emphasis on the word someone while grinning up to Mark.

You raise your brows. “Yes… Doyoung.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “May the odds be with you, y/n.” They continue on gulping their drinks and leaving you questioning what the hell are they trying to imply. It seems like they are trying to point out someone is about to meet you but you weren’t sure who?

Making sure you were out of earshot, the two boys fished out for their phones. Typing in the same text flying into their minds.

‘She’s in, make sure Taeyong is in the damn kitchen.’

They know. Except for you and Taeyong. Talk about thrill.

You stalk away and enter the house. Irritation bubbles inside your system like a brook. It feels as if everyone knows something that you should be aware of. No matter how hard you try to think of a person who you can possibly meet in here, there’s none in mind. You try to wipe it away by mentally taking a note that what you are doing is a commission; a full course meal paid by Kim Doyoung.

The sight inside of the house is quite a scene; a wild scene to be exact. Typical. Bodies are grinding each other by the beat of the hired DJ, sweat and alcohol as well as humidity. You squeeze yourself through the crowd of wild college students. Some sort of liquid splashes your skin but you paid no attention to it.

This is why you hate going out. The only time you have been dragged into a party is with Taeyong. No, it wasn’t obnoxious but rather magical. Anything done with Taeyong is always spectacular, he makes all the mundane things dull to extra.

That was during the last years of highschool when he asked if you could go with him to this frat party and you obliged. It was also in the same setting of a summer night, young and chill. Deja vu.

Taeyong holds onto your hips that night while he glowed perfectly underneath the pale moonlight. The dusk may have taken its way that time but you can still remember how bright he glows like a crazed halo. Maybe the reason why you can still find your way to the outskirts of the university where the sorority houses are found is because he already brought you here. And everything, every memory you have shared with him is always indelible.

You can remember a quote from Fitzgerald. ‘So we beat on boats against the currents, borne back ceaselessly into the past’. You find yourself spacing out remembering how his soft lips brushes against your pinna, whispering words that replays over and over and over again. Both of your bodies stayed close, swaying with the melodic beat that the speakers blasted up. It was always Taeyong, his scar, his lips, his eyes that are always so alive. It was always him, always.

Taeyong leaned over saying the words that no man you tried dated ever uttered to you. “You are my sweetest feeling that I know.”

You beamed up to him. “I think my soul is in love with yours.”

And you will always be. And nostalgia hits. You miss Taeyong. He has so much space filled inside your heart.

You finally squeeze yourself past the hungry and wasted crowd and head towards the kitchen where Mark instructed you to go. You narrow your eyes searching for the familiar figure of your bestfriend but he wasn’t there, not even a trace of his silhouette.

The kitchen is bustling with alcohol. Piles of beer cans, half empty bottles of wine and few bottles of soft drinks dominated the sleek black granite countertop. You walk near the kitchen island where several drinks are offered placed haphazardly allowing the people to nurse their own drinks. You had your back facing the opposite hall that leads to the dining area while clutching the roses for your dear life.

Taeyong is leaning against the wall facing the dining area where his highschool friends are currently at. The rose ceremony was delayed because of Doyoung and so he busied himself by trying to catch up with his old friends.

“How’s life so far, Taeyong?”

Taeyong smiles, he’s always as fresh as raindrops. “Usual.”

They laugh. “How ‘usual’ is usual though?”

Taeyong thought to himself. It is bland, empty and he always finds himself staring past the mirror trying to remember how your face looks like since the last glance he had was exactly two years ago. He shrugs his shoulders and lifts the red cup to his lips. The alcohol rakes his throat, foreign. “A couple of punches here, training there, matches here, and rings over there. Usual.”

They continue on carrying their own conversation on which Taeyong lost interest. He just stares, his mind traveling and wandering. A high pitched screech alerts him, he immediately settles the cup down, the contents splashing over the dinner table. A woman is on her knees, clutching her lips with her hands.

Taeyong immediately crouches down. “Hey, are you okay?”

She slurs and Taeyong tries to comprehend what she is trying to convey. “Wuh-teeeeer…”

“Huh?”

“Wuuuuh-teeer…”

Water.

He immediately assists the girl to the kitchen sink. Dragging her slumped body slowly towards the kitchen floor. He tries to call out someone in hopes to help him with the inconvenience. But the kitchen is surprisingly empty.

It’s a plan to have two souls meet together in one. But fate must’ve fucked up the plans of the brotherhood. For the one soul is mending a random wasted college girl and the other one is fuming in anger.

You storm out of the kitchen when you are about to brandish a cocktail while waiting for Doyoung. Someone approaches you, pouring a beer into a red plastic cup.

“All right, babe, you’re free tonight?” He nods, concentrating on getting his foam right while looking at you intently. You didn’t know who this guy was, but bold of him to be so overly confident. Pity he was a massive stoner from the looks of his red eyes. And he’s not, never, your type.

“I’m not interested.”

His eyebrows went all sarky. “Why, you got a date?”

You face him entirely. “Look. I told you I’m not interested so don’t get too overly friendly and get the hell out of my face.”

He settles his cup on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest while leaning over to you, clearly invading your personal space. “Why should I do that?”

You wrinkle your nose at the smell of his breath. “God. I’m out of here.”

You let your feet drag you away from the party.

Oblivious to the failure, the other members of the sorority gather themselves around the front porch obnoxiously betting to one another. They have this one picture in mind, a painting of Michaelangelo, the creation of David. Where two fingers connect. Little did they know. There isn’t a meeting that happened in the first place.

“I bet my ass, those two have already met!” Hyuck yells. “Homeboy must’ve scored!”

And they all holler at once. Then, they hear someone clearing their throat.

“Goodbye. I’m heading home.”

The boy’s eyes widens at the sight of you at the door, fuming. Doyoung is at the end of the staircase, examining you. He inquires, “Did you meet someone?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, you,” you approach him and hand the roses. “Someone must’ve been so drunk he directed me to the kitchen when you are actually here.” You shoot Mark a look as soon as you finish your sentence and he answers with a sheepish grin.

You turn to Doyoung, “Treat me to a nice dinner tomorrow.”

It’s confusing for him. “Wait… you really didn’t meet someone? Why are you leaving so sudden?”

The boys quiet down suddenly, all confused with the matter.

“Oh, I did meet someone.”

“Yeah?” Sparks of excitement ignited inside Doyoung's chest.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “A fucktard to be exact.”

Doyoung’s brows furrow for a moment then realization hits him. There’s never an encounter that happened like he initially expected to. The roses didn’t reach Taeyong. And you were also mad which is uncommon. You clear your throat again, “I will head home.”

You lightly smack Doyoung cheeks and head off.

“No way Taeyong is…a fucktard though?”

“Man, go home you’re drunk.”

“I heard my name.” All heads whip towards the direction of the voice. Taeyong.

A confused silence filled their friend circle before Mark interrupted mid-way, “No way Ty....”

They all groan in disappointment. The roses shenanigans didn’t work.

Johnny slurs. “Maaaaaan, if someone didn’t get a shot. I’ll be getting my own shot.” And he stumbles on his own feet and lands on Mark and accidentally kisses him on the lips.

Mark immediately pushes the taller guy away from him. A scowl paints his face while wiping his lips furiously. “Maaaan, what the fuck are youu doin’ maaan?”

Johnny yells, “No homo, bro!” And continues on peppering the protesting Mark with kisses.

Sunday arrives faster than you have expected it to be. The professors were much more considerate with the classes and decided to have an interval for each class so it’ll be less of a burden for the students. After the party from Doyoung’s sorority everything seems to be a cultural reset from partying to lessons real quick. This is college and you are really accustomed to it.

You ponder, there is just something—sort of difference in the air surrounding you and Doyoung—something like he’s been plotting something so evil or mischievous and it kneads in your chest that you’re the prey. Or whatever that is.

He doesn’t say a word when you drag him to a restaurant of your choice but you are pretty much sure that deep inside he’s cursing you with all his might. You try to annoy him, testing his patience yet he answers you with a forced smile. But the way his eyes spark with such animosity is enough evidence to show how infuriated he is that he needs to pay for your dinner. And too bad for him, you have a big appetite.

“What do you fancy eating today? Stir fried rice, or,” he stares dumbfoundedly at the large menu while scratching the back of his head. He mumbles incoherently, “I will just go with the black bean noodles.”

Doyoung’s body turns around towards your direction, “What do you want?”

You state all of your orders and you can clearly see the way Doyoung’s face grimaces. The cashier jots down the orders and Doyoung pays the bill with a pained expression ebbing his face. It was beyond entertaining when he was clutching the bill so tightly, the cashier had to muster such great effort to pull away the bill out of his iron grip. It was his fault anyways; he’s being such an idiot.

“How’s your major?” you beam while mixing the fried rice. The mouth-watering sight in front of you made your stomach turn somersaults. Has it been months since you have eaten legit food? You didn’t know but right now you just want to stuff yourself up. Free food is always much more tastier than those that you pay for.

“I’m taking up three units for fundamentals of political science,” he blows up the searing hot noodles and slurps it all. Doyoung’s cheeks puffs as he chomps loudly on his food.

There’s a deafening silence between both of you. Minding your own businesses until Doyoung’s phone rings obnoxiously, disturbing each other’s peace. He picks up the vibrating phone with his lithe fingers and scowls at the caller ID, “What?”

You stare at him in silence. Still devouring the freshly served food on the table. Doyoung dramatically settles his phone on the table. An expression of agony painting his slender face. You ask, “What?”

He never tries to conceal the words he just spatted. Making you wanna hide away in embarrassment as the other customers shot you both dirty looks. “I want to poop.”

It’s taking a whole lot of effort for you to not headbutt the raven haired boy that is sheepishly grinning at you. You really do. The straightforwardness of Kim Doyoung can be excruciating for the people around him and you are not an exception.

You grit your teeth, “Then go! I don’t have the loo with me! Jesus Christ!”

He raises his brows and settles his chopsticks on the table. He clutches his chest. “After the good deed I have done to you, this is what you are gonna pay me back? You’re heartless.”

Alright, the weight of his statement has hit you straight to the gut. You try with plenty of effort not to shoot him a leer. You clear your throat and push away the growing impatience as you hoist your bag to your shoulders ready to get something for him. With the conscience card that he has recently pulled, you know he wants you to get him something. “What do you want?”

He smiles and uncoils from his slouch, rising to his full height emitting this smug superiority. “Gatorade.”

You squint your eyes and muster the deadliest death glare you can throw towards him. “You’re lying like… what is the gatorade for? You’re clearly making me pay you in return!”

He frowns at your claim. “I’m dehydrated. I chugged down plenty of beer, do you think that’ll make my stomach happy? Do you want me to fart on you to further support my claim?”

You roll your eyes in disbelief, “You’re gross.”

“I’m just trying to support my claim.”

“How? By broadcasting your physical state?”

He tries to open his mouth for another retort yet you immediately wave your hands in defeat. Bickering with him is like talking to a smart wall. He will try to twist everything until you want to give up, like practically shoving your head underwater. And the fact that he’s a political science student, of course arguing is one of his best specialties.

You left as soon as both of you finished your meals. You rake up your brain of possible stores that sell Gatorade and the first thing that has popped into your mind was the convenience store on the east avenue that used to be you and Taeyong’s favorite spot. The memories flood your brain.

“What does it taste like?” Taeyong asks, his brown orbs staring at you with such longing.

“Sweet.”

He raises his brows, “Oh?”

“Yeah, have a taste,” you offer him the sponge cake you’ve been munching a while ago. You extend your arm in his direction and scroll absently on your phone. Before you can even complain about why it is taking him a long time to have a taste, his lips are already smashed against yours.

Goosebumps immediately rises up to its wake upon the feeling of Taeyong’s lips on yours. This is your favorite feeling, something that only Taeyong can do to you. His tongue grazes your lower lip in a deliciously slow pace of which made you enthralled in the process. In response, you part your mouth to meet him halfway.

He pulls back and smiles at you. “It’s so sweet, like you.”

You immediately blink to snap away from your reverie. You whisper underneath your breath, “Focus, y/n.”

Two years. Two fucking years have passed yet you are still drowning with the memories of him.

The chime resonates in the store, signaling your recent arrival. The cashier gives you a curt nod then returns to sort out the products that lay on the countertop. You immediately made a beeline for the freezers at the farthest part of the store and grabbed the striking blue drink that appeared similarly like those occasional highlights on Doyoung’s hair. You sigh while clutching the cold beverage, “Just like his stupid highlights.”

It happens so fast that you cannot decipher the scene that unfolds before you. A figure looms behind you grabbing a watermelon smoothie, his body slightly clashing on yours when you attempt to walk towards the cashier. He is clearly towering over your height and his back is facing you. The guy’s shampoo or cologne has a tinge of a melon undertone that really reminds you of Taeyong of which derives from the fact that he is standing so close to you. Secondly, you can feel the humming warmth that radiates off his body. You gulp hard.

You mentally curse at tangling yourself in an awkward situation. You should leave yet you find your face heating up, stunned with your brain freezing. You pause for a good minute to observe the stranger.

A chill runs down your spine at the sudden feeling and the proximity. You clearly know that this guy is a stranger, but there is a sudden feeling erupting inside you and your mind is coaxing you that he isn’t. He’s not a stranger. You stare at his back, trying to rake up who possibly this guy is. He had a mop of grey hair, dangling earrings on each side and a driven aura. You reckon he is handsome as well, judging by the way he can carry himself through the store. Your mind is in a state of an endless blackhole, empty. All you could think is the fact that his alluring scent has you biting inside of your cheeks and ogling at him shamelessly.

The guys must be feeling the heavy weight of your gaze from behind. And so, he turns his head slightly to his right giving you the sight of his ungodly sharp jawline. You didn’t get a good sight of his eyes since it’s covered by the occasional strands of his titanium colored hair. You blink hard, that fucking jaw is really familiar. The fucking tall nose is familiar. The guy nods his head in veneration and whispers a small “sorry.” And stalks away. You hear the bell chimes.

Your heart starts to slam against your chest out of nowhere when you finally formed all the puzzle pieces together. That familiar voice lacing with softness and care. The hair, the jaw, the nose, the way he dresses. No, this isn’t just one of your imaginations. You know, it’s him, isn’t he?

You make your way through the snacks aisle to chase after the guy. He’s just inches away from the door when you suddenly grab his jacket sleeve. You smile, “Taeyong?”

“Uhm… do I know you?”

Your expression suddenly drops. The guy you just pull in is not the guy from earlier. He looks foreign with his hair in the shade of burgundy. You sheepishly apologize, but it comes out as a mere squeak from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I think I have mistaken you for someone else.”

“No shit. It’s alright.”

You pay for the beverage and snatch the parcel. You scramble to your feet quickly in hopes of searching for him. You know deep down, you’re sure of it. You crane your neck as far as you can possibly go until a voice laced from behind.

“What the fuck are you doing? And where’s my drink?”

You whip your body towards him and hand him the Gatorade.

Doyoung frowns. He tries to conceal the growing annoyance from his insides. Trying to act like his stomach frustrates him but the truth is, he is actually infuriated by the fact that Taeyong left the store so soon before you could even reach him. And he sees the scene unfold to himself. He huffs. With all the meticulous planning he thinks of, plus the help of his friends but still it isn’t enough that everything is derailing his momentum. Not just you and Taeyong but fucking fate itself.

At this moment all Doyoung thinks of is a ceasefire, he gives up. He’s one everything—including faking an upset stomach and practically broadcasting that he wants to shit just for the sake of both of you because Johnny notifies him of Taeyong’s whereabouts. Doyoung’s face is quite red by the chilly wind of Sunday night. He announces after trying to cool down his frustrations, “I’m going home.”

You raise your brow, “But you said we’ll still eat downtown?”

Doyoung glares. Now he’s back with his usual demeanor that you could easily taunt by throwing him a series of provocations. But you choose not to, he seems to be in a really bad mood. Not to mention diarrhea lies that you seem to be picking up. “I’m mending a stupid stomach.”

And before you could pull him back, his long legs already take him a long distance from yours.

Your feet backs up automatically and blend into the crowd. You cover your cheeks with your hands trying to wipe off the chilly wind that kisses you. Your summer dress’s hem flies after the sway of your hips. The adrenaline is still coursing through your veins due to the last encounter with the stranger in the convenience store. His alluring scent is still fresh in your mind and it only reminds you of the guy you are still obviously in love with. You shouldn’t be anymore, but there is still a spark that ignites through your chest. And in your mind there is this feeling of familiarity that lights up the fire that has long died two years ago. It’s not just a plain sense of belonging though, it’s Taeyong, and he always feels like home. It’s been two years since Taeyong ended everything nicely. Yet something is quite strange as the feeling of longing for him suddenly went away with just a simple encounter that you weren’t even sure if it’s him in the first place.

You utter to yourself, “It’s him, I’m sure of it.”

But the never ending question plays around your mind like a broken record. Are you really sure? Are you ready to face him after two long years?

You hug your figure as you make your way through the same familiar tracks of your favorite pancake house in the main district. You should be home right now, yet the alluring scent of pancakes has you dragging your feet into their shop.

The small shabby shop that is designed with occasional aesthetic trinkets makes it stand out amongst the industrial buildings beside it. It is bustling and alive with the swarm of people going in and out of their main door, stomachs full and satisfied faces. You enter the door swiftly, the scent of freshly cooked pancakes thrills inside your nostrils. The familiar tune of summer by Calvin Harris blasts on the speakers in the small diner.

When I met you in the summer To my heartbeat sound We fell in love As the leaves turned brown

The diner is very crowded tonight. You struggle to go past through the crowds but you understand, the pancakes they sell here is to die for.

And we could be together baby As long as skies are blue You act so innocent now But you lied so soon When I met you in the summer

Your face immediately lights up when the cashier hands you the awe-striking sight of the freshly cooked pancakes, flooding with maple syrup with occasional strawberries there and frostings that adorn the stacks. You took a whiff of the familiar cologne with a watermelon undertone from a while ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus especially when a pancake is making you so thrilled to eat.

The bustling sound of the city mixes with the catchy tune of summer and you find yourself dancing slightly along it’s melody. The lights above you cast a warm yellow glow on your face while you are waiting for a change. You answer the cashier with a smile when she hands you the cash. When you turn around, it wasn’t the aesthetic decoration of the diner that surprises you. But your ex boyfriend’s handsome face comes to your view. Your heart pounds inside your chest, yes you were longing for him, and there he is. Fate plays.

When I met you in summer.

You whisper but Taeyong manages to hear that soft call that he fucking miss so much. Those plump lips of yours that utter his name with such love and endearment, “Taeyong.”

It takes you, well, a whole hour to plop down and listen to your best friend rant about you and Taeyong. The way he did plan everything but according to him,

“Fuck fate. Fuck destiny. But I’m glad though, even if I look like a villain trying to overthrow you two.”

You just know that he is beyond frustrated that he didn’t get the both of you meet with his own mirthful ways but nevertheless, he is happy. You, on the other hand, are still shocked. Not that you had a bitter feeling, but Taeyong really had a drastic change compared to two years ago. You barely even know him.

It comes to your knowledge that he is really famous now, with his alias Kingpin plastered all over the city. He got home for a match with this Gregory guy that you haven’t heard of which is the fact that you are oblivious to it, all of it. Taeyong was stunned that you didn’t know anything about him or boxing, and you felt bad and so you made a mental note to research about it and him. He looks much more handsome than ever. With his doe eyes that hold a strong sense of contradiction, it’s strong full of aura and fire yet soft and endearing at the same time. The favorite rose like scar is still prominent underneath his right eye. His nose. His lips, those lips, it takes you an ounce of effort to hold back and not to think of unnecessary thoughts while observing the way how slow his mouth opens whenever he speaks or how pinkish it appears.

Doyoung asks you while he plops himself comfortably on your bed. “What happened in the pancake house?”

It is awkward.

After you whisper his name it feels like everything stopped. Both of you are like statues glued to your spots, holding deep eye contact. You can feel yourself flustered underneath his strong gaze. Those gaze that gives you an impression that he’s been undressing you already just with those eyes. It lasts for seconds, until you are both shushed by the staff for the queue is getting long.

You flinch but relax the moment after when Taeyong’s hands found its way to your hips. Just like old times. He didn’t utter a word, instead he’d silently lead you to the table just near the door. You immediately elicit a gasp when the warmth of his hands suddenly disappeared. You blink hard then place your plate down and silently nibble on the edges of the pancake waiting for Taeyong’s arrival.

Now that he’s much nearer, you can smell his strong scent. It doesn’t hurt your nose but the watermelon undertone stays in your nose for a while. A chill runs down your smile when he has plopped down comfortably in his seat giving you a fresh smile that makes your heart pound against your chest out of nowhere.

Taeyong is itching to talk to you. He clears his throat, “So… I didn’t know you were actually staying here.”

You really couldn’t get a control of your voice, instead it came out really weak and not as strong as you hoped it would be. Out of all moments, your body is slowly betraying you upon the sight of the beautiful Taeyong. You really pray that he doesn’t catch you on. “I didn’t reach the quota in Missouri, and then the application period for Hansville is already closed. So I just stayed, I hate new enviro—”

Just as you could mention the environment, Taeyong already did. He gives you a playful look, “Environment?” There’s actually no point in small talk, because Taeyong knows everything about you but he did just for the sake of seeing you, your lips, your beauty, he’s risking it all.

You feel your chest vibrate with laughter, “You couldn’t blame me though, I hate people.”

Taeyong grins. But his eyes are glimmering of darkness that surfaces his orbs. Taeyong knows and he sees it all, his overall effect on you. His lips start to stretch more into a wolfish grin while inching closer to you.

You instantly gulp while staring at him back. “Why?”

“Are you really sure about that, y/n sweetheart?” His breath smells like mint that fans out your cheeks when he slowly dragged those words from his tongue. Casting instant warmth over your cheeks and activating your gooseflesh.

You find yourself struggling for words upon the catch of his old nickname for you. Especially when he’s in this state, the usual laid back manner. You hate people alright, but you had exceptions like Dia, Doyoung and unfortunately him as well. He immediately retracts from slouching and straightens up his posture. He licks his bottom lips slowly. Honestly, watching Taeyong is making you suffer internally.

“I really missed you, y/n.” He says, his voice echoing with deep timber that laces with velvet and sweet. But those words aren't imbued with sarcasm or mockery rather laced with deep sincerity.

Those words somehow pinches you. You do right? But there is something holding you back. Fear? You let out a grin but it looked really forced with all your teeth gritted. “It was good seeing you again, Taeyong.” You clear your throat for the nth time and try to push out the strange feeling away in your gut.

Both of you finish up your pancakes and he offers you a walk to your apartment. Both of you are not speaking letting the summer wind speak for both of you. The familiar building welcomes your sight, there is light in your unit’s window so you reckon Doyoung is still with the world. Taeyong clears his throat and stops in his tracks, “I guess this is your home, no?”

You smile, “Yes.”

He approaches you with such agility in an astounding manner. You catch a whiff of those familiar fruity scents again when he leans closer to you. In response you immediately shut your eyes, expecting. But there are no kisses delivered. Way to go and make yourself a fool.

He chuckles. “Can I get your number?”

Your whole face heats up as if you’ve been submerged in a tub of boiling water. You open your eyes and divert your gaze away from his playful ones. “Of course, Hand me your phone.”

“Just scribble it down my forearm.”

“What?”

“My phone died but I got some marker, so just jot the digits down.” He fishes for the pen and hands it to you. His calloused hands brushing yours, and those small forms of touch still delivers the extreme effects to your body.

Those sinful arms. Your fingers are shaking while jotting your numbers down, his bulging veins are too much of a distraction especially whenever he flexes it.

You bid him goodbye and speed walk away to enter your unit, missing the smile that ghosts his lips at your marching figure.

You couldn’t wipe Taeyong’s images that night from your mind and so does he. Hell, If you can just see how those smile never leaving his face at his unexpected meeting with you.

The sound of a rustling bedsheet snaps you to reality.

You stare at Doyoung. “It was okay.”

His brows arch upwards as if mocking you. “Liar.”

Heaven knows it wasn’t just okay, you indeed enjoyed having him as company.

An exasperated groan leaves out your body as the bell rang obnoxiously signaling the end of the final period. You immediately hoist your bag over your shoulder and march away from the school as fast as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, you are crossing paths with Taeyong in a day more than you had imagined. Just yesterday, you bump into him just when you were thinking about him. And his divine sight welcomes you, with his sun-kissed skin shimmering underneath the rays of the summer sun, his neck glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and those eyes that ignites with unexplainable aura and intensity.

You hate to admit but he has changed so drastically and you could use the term cool, to describe him and his current state. You see him jog around the oval with his titanium hair striking up giving more emphasis to his sharp features. It’s parted haphazardly and damp. His tank top is clinging to his torso soaked with perspiration. His biceps strains out, he’s not that bulky type but with occasional muscles here and there, his physique is much more lean. And with just those charismatic looks, it never fails to send you a pool of pleasure, there.

You feel a shiver when he turns around and runs a finger to his hair. His prominent veins bulged out as he tugged on his hair, fixing it into place. Your eyes trail down further until you see his abs on full display, coming to your view.

Fuck. Fuck everything and your raging hormones. You immediately return your gaze up to his face and you feel your face heating up when it comes to your realization that he’s been observing you as well. His gaze never leaves yours, then one moment, he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe off his face. Giving you the view that you've been ogling at. He knows what you like and he’s giving it to you without any protest.

The sun shines through the oval, casting a yellowish glow on his body. His soft flesh is glowing with the occasional tattoos adorning his ribcage. You immediately gulp in hopes to diminish the growing sensation blooming in your stomach. But it never left, especially when Taeyong’s smile is being shot out towards your direction.

He’s really pleased to see you, especially seeing you in that body fitting uniform that makes him go hard on a summer’s day.

He approaches you without wiping the smile off his face. You fidget while trying to compose yourself not wanting to embarrass yourself much further. The night when you met him the first is enough.

“Fancy seeing you here. Are you headed home?”

“I ought to but I think I want to take a walk to the park.”

The bag straps dares to slip out of your shoulders. You utter an incoherent, “fuck.”

Taeyong immediately changes his expression. He looks at you in concern as he catches on your discomfort. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Oh… it’s just that the professor advised us to bring all three books for a collaborative reading but he didn’t show up.”

“Hmm…”

“And then I was tasked to report to the home room adviser so practically I have to carry out these heavy books while climbing up to the fourth floor.”

You immediately shut your mouth and your rants when you saw how he grew silent. You bit your lip and apologized meekly, “Sorry, I was just so tired from the summer class and this bag—”

He doesn’t utter a word but he grabs the bag away from you even before you can protest. He groans, “Damn, these are heavy.”

“They are.”

He stretches out his hand to you. “Come, let’s go to the park.”

You protest. Your eyes widening at his declaration. “But… but, you still have your training?”

“Nah. I can make time.”

And he pulls you away. His hand holding you dearly, just like old times. The warmth of his hands filling up those spots of yearning you had from his two year disappearance.

The walk to the nearest park wasn’t as deadly silent like the first night you both met. With both of your shoulders bumping and hands intertwined. You were not holding back anymore, clearly stating all of your distaste towards your college professors passionately with Taeyong chuckling in response. The conversation carries on smoothly filling out the gap that both of you had withdrawn from the years of absent communication. It’s filling out the space as both of you are talking about the randomness in all things possible not letting the implicit dead air eat out the aura engulfing you two.

Taeyong is not much of a talker, but when he does, everything that rolls out of his tongue could really hold a significant place in the listener’s memory. This fact still piques you up at the sight of his doe eyes quietly invested whenever you talk. You are always the talker between the two of you.

You can notice it from your periphery. You can feel the heavy weight of his drowning gaze piercing right through you as he examines you with such curiosity. You halt at your impending speech about student organization, feeling a lot more hotter than usual. The silence ebbed its way like how a beacon flies away from a started up fire. You let out a sharp intake of breath as you muster all your courage to reciprocate his heavy gaze.

You let out an airy laugh, “Is there something on my face?”

The way his demeanor changes drastically before your very eyes. His deep eyes are luminous, that made you feel some sort of deep mystification. His eyes are clearly looking at something through you, or searching for something to mend a yearning that is situated deep in his chest. He missed looking at your face, and a single gaze couldn’t fill those years of him trying to familiarize your face with those dusts in his memory.

“You’ve changed so much,” he says. His eyes are not leaving yours. You could almost feel some tinge of connection with just the way he stares down at you with deep adoration. That shoots out a simmering feel underneath your skin and painting out your face with searing hotness.

You try to conceal yourself by clearing your throat. “How do you know?”

“I keep on looking at you.”

“I can see that,” you state in a matter of fact. Challenging him further, “why is that?”

His lips immediately tugs upright at the change of your tone. He pushes in, further stretching out your curiosity, “Do you really wanna know?”

“Why?”

He blinks slowly, his eyelashes slightly fluttering against his eyelids. He opens his lips, “I wanna feel those lips again.”

You gulp hard when you see his gaze drops down to your lip level. That is the same thing you were thinking of the first time you saw him, don’t you? You also gawk at his as well, playing along the colors of a pale pink rose and crimson chrysanthemums. You can feel your brain struggling out to think of a thing to get away in this scenario you are in, instead you are lost in thought while looking at his lips. You definitely want to feel those lips as well.

“Why don’t you do it then?”

You lift the edges of your lips into a playful smile testing out the very edge of Taeyong’s patience. You must’ve stunned him at your vulgarity since he is opening his mouth for a retort but nothing rolls out.

“A-are you sure?”

This is the connection you were talking about. The constant pounding of both of your hearts are beating in sync against your rib cages. Feeling the same sense of want for each other’s touch. The butterflies flying around your stomach in an erratic manner.

“Do it.”

You thought he’s gonna hold back, but the sudden feeling of his lips crashing on yours had you sending in a skyrocketing ecstasy.

You didn’t get a hold of how long it has been, but all you can think of how sensual everything is. Goosebumps arise on your skin at the feeling of Taeyong’s tongue slowly grazing then nibbling on the plump flesh of your lower lip. You unconsciously let out a quiet moan that gave him access to meet you along the process.

Taeyong relaxes for a bit and you feel his hands slowly crawling up your arm and find its spot and settle it softly on your jaw. He caresses you slowly with such delicacy, afraid to give you a scratch. You are really lost with his mouth connected with yours. You are too stunned to think of something but it felt magical and passionate.

He slightly tilts his head towards his left and pushes your face more into him to deepen the kiss. His tongue grazing through the underside of your mouth.

He breaks the kiss, but his hands never left your cheeks. His forehead is resting on yours, a smile is ghosting his lips but his eyes are closed. He whispers your name sweetly causing a feeling of sparks igniting inside your chest. You rest your hands on his shoulders, gripping on it for dear life and to calm your nerves.

You can see the slow flutters of his eyelashes and how it cast a hollow shadow on his cheekbones. His breath slightly fans your face and you find yourself ticklish. He finally opens his eyes and how it holds such light, alive like the galaxy. He gives you a smile, “I really missed this.”

Then he leaned again to press on several small kisses, peppering your face with his lips while making smooch sounds. You immediately let out a giggle. His touch stays put, hot and tantalizing you can almost feel yourself burning.

This is what Taeyong has been dreaming of. How he yearns for that tinge of strawberry that he only gets to taste whenever he’s kissing you. You taste so sweet. Overly saccharine it made him much more alive.

Days past to weeks. It’s a routine like you expected it, impending torment every morning which is summer classes. But someone has added some spice to your monotonous life; Lee Taeyong. There has been a change in the atmosphere engulfing both of you— something that touches a nostalgic feeling — a slight nudge to your heart.

He is currently leaning at the back door frame of your classroom. Watching you struggle to finish up an essay that is currently due in fifteen minutes. That is exactly the sight he would die to see.

“Start with the main points first before you elaborate the sub points,” he beams. Good thing, you are situated at the very back and so you are both out of ear shot. You press your brows all together, concentrating on the damn vague subject but the scent of Taeyong is too distracting.

He crouches down and snatches the pen away from you, scribbling a lopsided pyramid with all the words as your starter. You stare at him and he gives you a smile in return. The way his eyes turn into moon crescents that made your heart churn. Do you really deserve those smiles?

He whispers proudly, “There. That should keep you on track.”

You gasp, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He steals a kiss from you and stalked away with his phone on his ear.

Later that day, your phone keeps buzzing against your ass. The first ever text you’ve received from Taeyong. He had a new number.

[pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:16 PM] I hope you finished your paper! [4:18 PM] its taeyong btw [4:23 PM] uhm,,, perhaps you want to go for a ride,, like fuck I hate texting dhhdhd [4:23 PM] but I wanna show u around our boxing gym if you would like of course… [4:25 PM] text me back, yeah?

You immediately grin at the message.

[4:26 PM] alright, as long as you treat me dinner :D [4:27 PM] alsoo… thank you, I said it already but I want to thank you agaaain :) [pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:27 PM] you got that! :) [4:27 PM] see you!!! <3

You pretty much found yourself ogling at his last message.

[4:28 PM] anything for you, sweetheart. I love you.

Those messages from Taeyong got you in a state of deep conflict. You just thought of it as a simple get together and not a date. Right, that must be it, he just wanted to show you around the place where he boxes. That could be it.

On the other hand, Taeyong knows that it isn’t just something as a plain go-out impromptu. He really mustered his courage to ask you out for a date. And he hasn't thought of a proper place since he’s not permitted to wander around the outskirts of the city not until after his upcoming match. The boxing gym could be the second destination after dinner.

The shared relationship between the two of you has escalated more than just plain awkwardness. While you are munching out your yakisoba, Taeyong is eating out his salad, watching and lowkey happy that you are sharing a company with him even though the offer is quite a little bit absurd. You are now staring back at him whenever he does, occasionally throwing out flirtatious comebacks after the other. This made something spark out in Taeyong’s chest, is it a sign of your feelings coming back? Or something even bigger than the picture he has been painting? Commitment?

The walk to the boxing gym didn’t take up much of your time. Taeyong pushes the door and lets you enter in first. There are several people inside the gym and they all gave you a friendly greeting. There’s another man that approaches the two of you, probably a few years older than you and is handsome as well in his grey sweats and black shirt. His eyes mold into moon crescents as he greets you with all his pearly teeth showing, “You must be y/n? I’m Taeil, Taeyong’s other coach.”

The people in the gym scrambled out to the connecting unit to give you both privacy. It's just both of you, with the lights casting a warm glow between your bodies, the dumbbells untouched, the ring in the middle waiting for him. He leads you inside the ring as he hoists up the rope upwards for your entrance. The platform is quite slippery but Taeyong immediately guides you forward towards the middle with his hands gripping your hips tightly. You just watch him intently and you can see how he grew a lot more taller, practically hovering over your figure.

He demonstrates a simple punch here and there. Pointing out the parts of the ring but all of his words are muddled, swimming away as your attention is solely focused on his lips and the way his slender body sway with such grace and agility.

He removes the glove and throws it away. He approaches you, “Are you gonna do something with the way that you are looking at me?”

He can feel it. Tonight is something different. The way both of you are staring right at each other’s soul is a little different.

He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours then he holds it up to his lips to kiss your fingers gingerly. He’s taking his time to kiss one digit to another. Then, he leans slowly while grazing his lips onto the outer shell of your ear. Your body tingles at the warm breath fanning the right side of your face. “What does that stare mean huh? Y/n?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with those tantalizing eyes staring at you, full of determination, smoldering with passion and lust. His touch on your hips is burning, shuddering as he caresses it down slowly emitting the rise of your goosebumps. His lips are brushing against your nose peppering small kisses just like old times. He handles you with such care like you are some sort of a delicate masterpiece by Michelangelo.

You just want him. His lips. His entirety. You want Lee Taeyong.

He caresses your jaw soothingly before leaning down to press a soft peck on your lips. Then, again and again. Until you encircled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You feel him smile against your lips after reciprocating your hungry and passionate kisses. After all these years of yearning, you’ve never felt so alive. He’s something akin to fire that never fails to have your insides burn with so much spark and passion.

He pulls you more, pushing your figure on his. It feels surreal with both your bodies molding into one. His soft touch turns into a passionate tug of war with your blouse. His hands run over those curvatures that are hidden by your top. Oh god, he knows how he missed doing these.

Taeyong knows that you’re the catastrophe that yields this side of him. He loves you so much. And he believes that you are both made for each other, like planets meant to be aligned together. Your scent that smells like home with a touch of roses and bloom. Your lips that are perfectly made just for him, your tongue that slowly and carefully grazes his lower lip. The kiss that both of you are sharing is too sensual, different, grounded into something just like the very first one you have both shared.

He nibbles on yours that triggers a soft moan from you. You immediately granted him entrance. The ghost of his touch is still lingering on your jaw, until he settles it down onto your hips. You are sure that he can the loud pounding of your chest, the way the big spark ricochets against your chest with every touch he leaves.

It’s messy but surreal. Binding with much adoration and deep sense of lust. With his tongue exploring every bit of you. Tangling and connected by feelings. It is so romantic that you don’t want it to end.

He breaks the kiss, leaning against your temple. Ragged breaths resonate around the quiet gym. You take your time to settle your pounding heart and breath. You look at him, all but imbued with pure adoration and affection. His swollen lips whisper your name in awe and he smiles at how he dreamt of it and now it's unfolding before him.

You just want to be like these. With you tucked under his protective embrace. Listening to his erratic heartbeat. But, you were still afraid.

He whispers, “God. What will I do without you?”

“But… I’m always here.”

“But I won’t.”

You inhale a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t understand.”

“I might move out abroad for training.”

Those are the things you are always afraid of. Taeyong entering your life, then to leave out as soon you cannot contain yourself anymore, drowning with every piece of him, lost without his presence beside you.

This was your nightmares, coming back at square one broken and shattered. And it’s threatening to come back especially now that you are finding yourself falling for him, again.

It’s raining hard. Gloomy and heavy just like the constant barrage of thoughts clouding in your brain that you have overlooked a text message from Taeyong and Doyoung’s sudden appearance at your room.

“I can see a blooming college student, and why is that?” He teases but it wasn’t enough to make your mood lift not for a little bit.

“I don’t see myself as blooming though, why’d you say that?”

“Don’t lie to me. I can see how lovely and alive you are when you’ve been hanging out with Taeyong.”

“It won’t be long. I should’ve known,” you wipe your face. “God, why am I such an idiot?”

His face immediately concerts to concern, he knows you’re in deep conflict and something wrong is up. “Tell me.”

You told him everything. The internal battle you’ve recently put yourself into Everything that has been bugging in your mind lately. “I’ve let him in my life once, then now, twice and right now I’m unsure of everything. I’m even afraid that I have to go through the past shits I was thrown into because he chooses his career more than… us. And I don’t want to feel that misery again.”

He hums, “Look.” You embrace yourself for an earful of lectures from him. “But, who cares about the past? It's already done but it isn't just you who suffered and undergone extreme shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re dumb, y/n.”

“I said what I said, Doyoung. This isn’t love, it could be just the wild force like lust or whatever...”

“No, you’re still swimming around this deep pool of conflict and denial.”

“It's easier to speak about someone, Kim Doyoung. But you don’t know what I am feeling right now, stop invalidating me.”

“I’m not. But I’m speaking as a best friend and I know you love him more than you know, you do.”

You snap, “Stop concluding things!”

“Oh yeah? But if you are unsure of Taeyong, why do you keep on texting with him when you know that you shouldn’t? What about those kisses you both shared when he dropped you off here yesterday? You don’t know but you’ve been drowning with the presence of Taeyong that you’re oblivious to the fact that everyone knows you’re lying. You still love him.”

“I just want to hang out but that necessarily means I do love him.”

Doyoung clenches his jaw and approaches your figure. You’re being too difficult. Your eyes widens at his sudden outbursts but what made you stunned is that he suddenly pulled your face to his, then he planted a soft peck on your nose.

Doyoung knew this was coming, but he just wanted to help with the thing he knows will work. After all the shenanigans he pull, all of them didn’t work and ended the way he wanted in it be. By doing this, he will know if you are indeed in a midst of conflict or you really do love Taeyong. It’s a giveaway, if you do push him away, it just explains everything. If you do not, then he is wrong for pushing everything into your edge.

Doyoung is tall and thus, he can see the marching figure of Taeyong and how he stopped midway at the sight of both of you. From the perspective of Taeyong, it gives him a picture that both of you are kissing when in fact, Doyoung is just leaning down to match your height.

��What the hell?”

You immediately remove Doyoung’s hands from your face and spin quickly on your heels to meet him. “Taeyong, I can explain…”

Taeyong smiles bitterly, “No. save it.” He lets go of the material he’s been gripping through all this time.

The sight of Taeyong, he’s beautiful as ever. But looking at his face painting into a mixture of plain reticence and agony surely made you sick to the gut. You hate to see him hurting and when he spun his heel to leave, you chased him off. Afraid of losing him, again. At this moment you have been sure of it, you love him more than you do.

“Wait—“

He spins his heel but maintains a safe distance from you. “I didn’t know you and Doyoung had a thing, I should’ve known.”

“No! No, please, listen to me—“

His gaze is so dark with pain and anger. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Imagine, I have been believing all these time, yet, fuck.”

“No, Taeyong…”

He snaps, “Do you really love me y/n? Or you’re just driven?”

That shuts you out. But you know that answer, it's just that fear is holding you from shouting out how much you love him.

He smirks bitterly, “See? Those could answer everything.”

Heaven knows how much you love Lee Taeyong. How you are afraid of seeing him leave and never return back.

The next days you are waking up to are the worst as you speak. The way every morning feels so heavy with a constant tirade of thoughts running over your mind like a shadow lurking by. Your mornings pass by bitterly without messages coming from Taeyong or his stupid voice overs that lulls you to sleep. Not even his sweet talks and songs. None of them all.

It feels like shit to wake up with a heavy chest glooming with unexplainable feelings of confusion and denial. You hated to admit but you are so angry with yourself for being such a pussy. The constant loop of emotions that you feel, above all fear of having everything repeat again, then anger at yourself for hurting Taeyong, then regret because you know you could have done something better. You are well aware that you are just forcing yourself into this pool of anxiety. Afraid of something uncertain, when you shouldn’t be and it was just enough to drive Taeyong away. You could have just told him you loved him, but you were letting yourself be pulled out by your own judgements. Love means sacrificing, but you were such a coward for doing so.

Denial that was the cause of the pain that killed his passionate eyes. You know too well that what you have shared with him isn’t just something as plain lust but it was driven by deep love and passion. Yet, you couldn’t even correct out the stupid lie that Taeyong had to forcibly believe. Because you were so afraid of admitting that you are falling back to him, and you’re afraid that he might not be able to catch you out like he did before all because of boxing.

But was it worth fearing for if it meant pushing him away? No. You loved him more than you do. Does it make you at ease to just bury down in your darkest pits and watch Taeyong disappear just because you were so afraid of taking up the risk? No.

In the course of summer’s day and hazy afternoons you have spent with him, shoulder to shoulder, swaying with deep grace and agility, you have seen how smooth your relationship with him changed. Unbeknownst to you, the relationship shared between you has blossomed into something passionate and raw; full of emotion. No puppy love but special and mature. You hate to engage with people but with Taeyong around, there is a line that connects the two of you like two star-crossed lovers destined and made for each other.

His smile never fails to cast positivity in your life, and hell you know, that you wanted to be a reason for those smiles as well. But how can you do it, when you were the reason why it won’t happen anymore?

You know you are just scared of letting him inside your life and then one moment, he’ll leave. His departure has deeply wounded and scarred you to the point that you don’t want it to happen anymore. This has always been a part of commitment, that obstacles are being thrown towards your way. But the more you think of it, the more selfish and worse you felt. He did support you all the time, especially when you mentioned to him two years ago that you wanted to go abroad for an internship or those times when he is determined to keep you on track despite his body failing because of the strenuous training he’s being shoved under. But when it was his time to go, instead of supporting him all the way, you eventually closed everything around you, even tried so hard to tell it without hurting you. That made you feel like shit.

You try to diminish everything and try to focus on your classes but you constantly find yourself thinking about those titanium hair and passionate eyes. His kisses and burning touches. You stare at the pile of schoolworks stacked neatly at your table, waiting for your whole undivided attention. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to focus, not with that growing lump of sadness clogging on your throat.

It’s impossible to wave everything off like nothing of this ever happened, that Taeyong was just another episode in your life. But he wasn’t just someone that is a passerby, he’s engraved to your memory, and he’s that memory you wish to remember till death.

It hurts to see his face into pain.

Lee Taeyong is the man that you’ve ever wished for. He loves without boundaries, without limits, without judgement. He’ll love you with all his might, disregarding all those flaws that you keep. He’s pretty with his soul so bright and pure. He’s like a rose in this dead garden that shines in his very own way. Bright red, full of determination, power and beauty. He’s so kind like the angel Gabriel. He was a dream come true for you, ethereal like a daydream, the love of your life that you pushed away because you were being such a coward.

A throb in your chest escapes when you see the crumpled paper discarded near the door. His neat handwriting comes to your view.

I just read the Notebook by Nicholas Sparks and saw this passage;

“I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who’s ever lived: I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.”

I love you with all my entirety, I know I have fucked up, but I am willing to do everything for you, just to be with you, forever.

He just loves you and you were doubting everything.

“Good thing I didn’t throw that paper away.”

You immediately spin around your heel and see Doyoung plopping himself comfortably on the sofa.

“I’m still mad at what you’ve done.”

“I know, but if it wasn't for that show, you’ll never be as sure as you are now.”

“You’re bullshit.”

“I’m just helping you,” he clears his throat. “Now, tell me more.”

“No, until you tell why you did that stupid thing.”

He sighs. “It’s an eye opener for people in denial like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you heard Taeyong, you immediately pushed me away and chased after him… Why? Because you don’t want to see him get hurt because of a stupid and childish act.”

You didn’t answer.

“Now tell me more.”

You sigh again and close your eyes. Doyoung watches you patiently. “Doyoung, tell me, am I dumb for feeling this way? Afraid that he’ll leave me again because of boxing and selfish because I am just looking out for myself?”

“First of all, you are not dumb, academically could be, but no, you’re not. You see, whenever we feel fear, that just means that we love that person so much we are afraid to lose them. And don’t invalidate everything just because you are looking out for yourself.”

He continues on, “I know that the separation of you two were messed up and rushed because Taeyong had to train more and you cannot decipher the fact that he has to leave. And now that he’s back, you just don’t want to feel the same old misery you had to endure these years. But trust me, he feels the same way as you do. In fact, much worse because he chose boxing over you. But it's part of life and love, sacrifices happen and it makes the bond between the two stronger.”

“What do I do?”

“You see, you keep on returning back to your past, that it might happen again and again. Forget those, it's in the past, what is important is the present and that is what you should focus on. Feelings are really hard to keep up with. We’re humans, vulnerable. But I know that he really loves you.”

“I do, too.”

“Then, you should talk it out to him. Don’t rush things and take lithe steps.”

He approaches your figure and pulls you into an embrace. You feel your eyes burning with tears when he whispers, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

“What if he misunderstood?”

“He won’t. Trust me, he is my friend too.”

You feel a sense of comfort even if it's just a fraction of time. His words echoing around your mind, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

You find yourself dropping by their boxing gym. Taeil approaches you figure, awkwardly leaning against the door, kinda conflicted if you should set foot in the gym or not.

“Hey,” he greets. His face is quite pale with the notable dark bags under his eyes, he looks really dishevelled.

You bow your head, “Hey Taeil, what’s up?”

“Tired.”

“Oh, it's that so?”

“But he’s pretty messed up among all of us.”

He knows.

You can hear the disgruntled grunts and strong punches from the farthest side of the room.

You let out a sigh, “Why is that?”

“You see, he’s been really expectant of this match but he was notified at the last minute that it was cancelled because his opponent was tested positive for using peds which is illegal,” he trails. “I think it made him upset given the fact that we have done extreme preparations and he was obliged to undergo a mandatory drug test when he hated doing it in the first place.”

You find yourself being stupefied, not knowing what to answer. “I’m sorry--”

You are interrupted midway when you hear constant shouts and punches.

“It was found out that the contract of sponsorship was a fraud and used as a bait for us to bite on. He was really enraged.” Taeil clears his throat, “Now he’s been grilled by the trainers because there’s a big dip in his usual powerful performance. There was never a problem especially in training but his performance just escalated down and I really don't know how to help him either, I think he's really unmotivated.”

You feel really guilty because you were also the reason for his sudden drop in performance.

You call out to Taeil and hand him the pink card, “Can you please pass this to him?”

Taeyong stumbles in the locker room after the hellish training, he grips on the metal bars tightly to support his body. He feels like his body is collapsing with his legs wobbling and his arms tired, without the power to hold anything in his command. The bright pink card that is clipped haphazardly on his jacket caught his attention, he stretched out his arm and he elicited a sharp gasp when he felt the sudden jolt of pain rising up to his shoulders. The contents of the card surprised him, your baby picture that’s his favorite and the neat calligraphy of a book passage that had his eyes damp with tears.

“So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday-- Noah”

I have also read the Notebook and all I could say is I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything could be hard but I am more than willing to dive, to walk into a path full of thorns with you. I was really afraid to see you walk out of that door, and it came to my realization that I’d rather have you go away temporarily, to chase on your dream rather than losing you forever. Chase your dream and I’ll chase mine, and we’ll still find each other’s arms. I will support you always, rose. I love you so much.

You find yourself in the boxing gym again, awkward as fuck.

The rambunctious rambles of Taeyong’s teammates piques up his ears yet he doesn't pay attention to it because he knows it’s useless. He quietly wraps the white bandages around his wrist and his fingers. His muscles are still aching with the aftermath of the afternoon grilling yesterday but he needs to practice more despite everything fucking him up.

Taiel shouts out, “Taeyong!”

He snaps, “What?!”

But the sight of your figure at the door deeply surprised him. You look like you’ve been contemplating for a good minute whether you should enter the gym or just cling out at the door. Ah, he knows. You hated talks and people so much and it shows.

It’s been days since you have last seen him, he’s still beautiful as ever. But you can see the dark shadow that casts underneath his eyes. There were lines here and there that could be caused by stress and fatigue. His jaw is much sharper than before. His eyes were unreadable, deep and smoldering.

He hoists and climbs out of the ropes and out of the ring to approach you. You can see yourself eyeing his figure intently but you rest your gaze at his strong and unyielding stare down to those pretty lips.

He breathes, “Hey.”

It was just a faint call yet it feels like you’ve been floating around in cloud nine. You fidget against the wall and Taeyong notices. You wanted to tell him more, everything, yet you are confined in your very own space, with fear clogging out your throat.

You settle with calling his name, your lips quivering, “Taeyong.”

Taeil immediately shushes the other boys that have plains on eavesdropping on the drama unfolding. The marches out towards the connected unit with exasperated groans leaving their lips. Now it’s just you and him again. With everything untouched and quiet. The space around you is basking into that awkward pace just like the first encounter. Your heart ricochets off against your chest that indicates a quiet plea that snaps you out of what you should do. Here goes nothing, you should talk it out to him.

You try to divert your attention from the erratic beating of your heart to the boy who’s been looking at you with his dark eyes.

He begins, “How is your summer class?”It took you off guard, “It’s fine.”

You clear your throat and mumble the words, “I want to talk, please?”

He leans down with his brows furrowed together. “What? I didn’t get what you were trying to say…”

You sigh and yanked his tank top to plant a kiss on those rose colored lips of him. He misses your touch. He relaxes by the feeling of your touch. You were just enough to fill out the hole that has been empty throughout his heart.

You whisper, “I’m really sorry for being afraid… for holding back… I don’t have something intimate going on with Doyoung I swear, he just leaned in to slap me out of my reverie… With his acts I was able to make sure that you were the only one that I will ever love… I could never replace you with someone else because I love you so much… you are the only one that I will choose, forever.”

He closes his eyes and leans on your forehead. He was so afraid of losing you either. When he saw Doyoung that day, he really felt a sense of tugging in his heart. Fear that he couldn’t make up for all the things that he’d done. For leaving so soon. For leaving you. He misses you so much that he can’t find the energy to go on without you by his side.

He kisses you with all the power he could muster. With all earnestness. Peppering you with kisses, dusting every part of your face with all his might. He’s intoxicated with just your presence looming inside his systems. He leaves you breathless with every passionate kiss he leaves, leaving a trail of hotness that has been searing up into your body. You could almost feel that spark with just the ghost of his touch. This is what you want, with him by your side. How content you feel with him and those yearning suddenly disappears.

Taeyong cups your face, holding you with such care as if you’re the most delicate glass. Fragile. He stares at your eyes, searching into yours deeply until he could see how beautiful they really are, that holds the entire galaxy with them, sparkling and deep.

You grab his hands carefully, kissing his bruised hands that are like those flowers that your mother grows. Delphinium, that is casting a glow of pale blue and violet. It must’ve pained him to still train with his hands scarred.

He calls you out with the same old nickname for you that sends you to bits of fluttery. “Sweetheart... “ His voice is imbued with longing, his voice deep and soothing, contradicting yet lulling. “You don’t have to apologize. I will forgive you every time, because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry for being like this, still trapped with the past…”

He shushes you with his finger. “Hey, let’s forget everything in the past and focus on what we have here in the present.”

You smile, “Present.”

Taeyong finds himself being lost for words yet he seizes this opportunity to hold you closer to his. He loves you dearly and admires your beauty. Your entirety. He loves you for being you. That is all about simplicity with your skin glowing, so it was your inner beauty that not only lit up your soft features but Taeyong’s eyes as well. When he sees you smile and laugh, he couldn't help but smile along too, even if it was just on the inside. To be in your company was to feel that he too was someone, that you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

“Stop staring.”

He laughs, “Why not? I miss you.”

“Your coach might scold me for interfering with your training.”

He rolls his eyes, “The match was cancelled, anyways. Let him be mad, I don’t care.”

You grin, “You’re impossible.”

He leans in again for a kiss. It’s not just a peck but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that glows in your chest.

He kisses up and down your neck. You let out little whimpers of anticipation while he works his way back to your tender, smooth lips.

He breathes out your name, “y/n…” caressing your face gingerly, brushing away those strands of hair away from your eyes, “Did you know I was really happy to see that letter from you?”

“Why?”

“Because you called me rose that you only did when you felt like it.”

You laugh at his confession, “Why?”

“I just felt happy that you finally addressed me by that name.”

You give him a smile while caressing his cheeks soothingly. His expression is a mixture of endearment and loving, with his smile that is so blinding with beauty.

He continues, “I could still remember that very last time you called me that and I thought I will never get those endearments from you. Rose is the name out of all that I can help but to smile whenever I hear someone say it.”

“It’s actually weird to call you that.”

“But it’s fucking unique and I will aways remember you whenever I hear the word rose.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you… You’re someone so kind and pure that brings up the beauty even in the smallest things and God… what will I ever do without you in my life?”

“We are always meant to be together even though Doyoung’s plan on bringing our paths together fails.”

You cross your brows, “How did you know that?”

He grins cheekily, “He told me.” That snitch.

The conclusions are starting to form inside your head like whirlpools. You point out an accusatory finger towards him, your eyes wide, “So you know?”

He smirks and kisses you again. “Yes, but it just feels good to hear those words coming out of you.”

“You drama king!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Out of seven billion, I will always choose you.”

Those words prompt another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

You hear a roar, “Lee Taeyong! Back to the ring!”

You could see his manager fuming but when he sees your figure being concealed by Taeyong’s body he immediately scurries back and grunts out incoherent profanities.

You snatch his top to lean for a peck then pushing him away, “Go, before you get grilled for--”

“For what? Being sexy?”

“You have an non-existent ass, Taeyong.”

He just smiles at your comeback. And he could just feel the air knocking out of his fucking chest. God, what is life if it wasn’t you with his side like this? He’s a lovefool, only for you.

He begins, “You know I hated books but…” his eyes are now soft and deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after torrential rains. A smile tugging on the ends of his lips, “You are, and always have been, my dream.”

You recognize those quotes from Nicholas Sparks.

You smile too, “You are and will ever be the love of my life, Taeyong.”

SMUT (SKIP IF UNCOMFORTABLE)

You can still remember the first time that you felt extreme happiness, that is when you have been given the plush toy you have been dreaming off by your dad. That was memorable, then the second one that gave you light was Taeyong. He brings the extreme feeling of euphoria just by the ghosts of his lips. From the very start, you wanted to drown yourself with the boy who’s laced with elegance and sweetness that is Lee Taeyong.

You didn’t know how Taeyong was able to spare himself out of his training sessions and his fuming coach. But what is important is that after he runs towards your direction, carelessly yanking out his bag, he reconnected his lips to yours, peppering your whole face down to marking your neck as his. You both don’t stop feeling each other until you are both forced out by Taeil.

Taeyong’s vein is filled with adrenaline and the wild drive of lust. He carelessly drives down his apartment, skipping three traffic lights, at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to care about traffic rules, he wanted you the soon, the better. The both of you stumbles down the hallway, bodies waltzing while trying to fit in the door of his unit.

His fingers were grazing your scalp slightly tugging on your locks to provide him more access to deepen the kiss. His other hand is roaming around you, exploring every bit of your curvature that you always hide. He grips on your hips hard then slammed you on the nearest wall he could find. Taeyong pushes his pelvis onto you, deeper while torturing you by biting down on your lower lip. You let out a quiet moan that urges him to do more, grinding against your pants that sends a surge of swirling sparks in your belly and wetness that pools between your thighs.

You’re his drug that drives him into madness.

He couldn't contain himself any further as excitement pools inside his system, his eyes burning with desire with the sight of you caged between his arms. He gives you a look while he touches the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your approval. You nodded and it was enough for him to shake while trying to work out and remove you from the garment that covers your beauty. He inwardly let out a low groan upon the sight of your breast cupped perfectly by the lacy bra.

Your faces immediately flush at his intense gaze, but he immediately leans in to plant a quick peck on your lips, smiling throughout. “You are perfect. God.”

He traces with his lithe fingers starting from your hands upward to your shoulders. You can almost see how he occasionally steals a glance at you with his hooded eyes. His gaze is so heavy and hungry as if you’re a pool of crystal water and he’s a man with an exorbitant thirst, that he cannot longer wait to devour you with all his might. He proves his ardent hunger by cupping your cheeks and attacking your now swollen lips, then tilting your head slightly on the left to press his lips onto the delicate skin of your neck, his teeths grazing and biting down, leaving you angry red marks. He wasn’t feeling enough, he titles your head more, providing him more access to the sweet spot that is on the arch of your collarbones, sucking and marking until you are desperately crying for more.

You let out an airy laugh, “Is this what you are planning along all this time?”

He answers you with a breathy answer, “Fuck, yes.” He towers over your figure while grinding more onto you, the friction making him bite down his moans and hard with every fraction of time passing by. “You’re the only one I plan on doing this with.”

He pulls away and finally assists you while undressing. To him, you are the most perfect, with your skin glistening with sensual sweat. Taeyong’s eyes were drawn down to the red marks that caressed its way down to your neck, reaching to just below your collarbones. Taeyong always told himself that goddesses were real and he was sure that you’re one of them. You’re a masterpiece that he will always hold with such delicateness.

He pushes your figure down onto his silk sheets. You can feel the cold contact against your flushed skin while Taeyong hovers onto your figure attacking every part of you that his lips could. He sucks onto your neck until those marks turn with a deep chase of purple and blue. You buck your hips against him, firmly to feel him, until you could squeeze out a reaction from him.

Taeyong groans slowly which pushes you more to roll your hips against him. The instinctive reaction of Taeyong was to bite down on your neck a little more harder which earns a sharp gasp from you. There is a rising flame bubbling inside of your abdomen. Two amorous lovers binded by love and lust. He gives out a quick yet quiet apology while returning into his business on marking every spot he sees no shade of lilac or blue. You try to grind onto him shamelessly, again, teasing to test out his patience, yet he already has his hands holding you down to place with his nails digging deep into your hips. You could almost feel his raging boner resting against the flesh of your inner thighs, throbbing.

Swatting away his grip, you immediately sit up to undress him up. Your hands run along his skin, clever, skilled, determined as you stripped off the tank top that clings onto his wrists. The flash of passion, the fury of need that darkens your eyes with a sense of decadent power as the man you really love is sitting before you, almost as naked as you.

In mindless, liberated pleasure, you shove out his gym shorts.

Taeyong’s eyes glimmered in the weak light of his room, as he forced the gym shorts out of him and flung it aside. “You’re driving me insane.”

“I could say that too.”

His mouth begins feasting onto your flesh again, his greedy hands racing over your quivering body in ruthless exploration that got you breathless. Heat pumps throughout your veins; feeling soft and warm, melting into Taeyong’s touch, like one's body.

You let out a gasp when you feel Taeyong’s palm cupping your breasts. His other sinful fingers move against your surging wet heat, relentlessly driving you up to insanity, the need to release is clawing viciously inside your body. Your pussy throbbing with his fingers encircling with your clit in a torturous manner.

Taeyong breathes, “Look at me,” when he sees your eyes fluttering shut. “It’s just you and me. Just us, like always.”

“Always.” The shadows dance around the both of you. Shifting while both of your fingers stroked. The sensation builds after the other, your body trembles, shuddering layers, then it halts when he suddenly withdraws himself letting you on the edge of frustration and want.

“Fuck, Taeyong!”

“God, I can eat you out, alive.”

You breathe, “I could… let you.”

With the expert flick of his hands, he had your pants tugged down along with your panties with a low grunt. Your eyes both lock in a brief second, all smoldering and swimming with intense lust. He clicks his tongue while playfully flicking off your bra.

His hands, as you could note, are kinda calloused, rubbing at your inner thighs and then spreads them widely while exploring a bit of your body. The power of his caress is influenced by boxing that is tantalizing and arousing, his fingertips pressing onto the delicate part of your skin, wandering underneath to give you behind a gentle yet strong cup.

He leans in again to leave out open mouthed kisses on your bare chest. The air around thickens, your breath snagged in your lungs. Your back arches as he takes your breast in his mouth, sucking, teeth scraping erotically over your aching nipple. Then, trailing down to your inner thighs to leave small kisses here and there, then he’ll suck. You writhe against the small exquisite pain, sobbing his name, the wet pulse between your legs is pounding with intense need.

Taeyong dips his head in between your legs, licking the hot, slick, and thick liquid that is dripping from your folds. You immediately let out a moan. He holds you in place, while he relishes on your juices while you suffer at his doings. The vibration whenever he let out a satisfied groan leaves out a tingling sensation to your clit. His tongue finally reaches out to encircle you wanting clit. Waves of ecstasy washes over you, crying out loud at the feeling of sharp sensation of pleasure flowing right at your veins. You try to reach out to anything your hands could get, grip on. You settle for his titanium hair.

“You’re so sweet.”

Whenever he speaks it grazes slightly on the nubs of your walls, which made you arch your back in pleasure. He continues on licking your juices, until he slides a digit in taking you completely by surprise. With his long, slender fingers inside you, the feeling is exceptional, delirious.

He slides his finger in, your folds welcoming him as it grazes and envelops every time he slides another finger. His thumb continues on playing with your clit which his fingers fucks you, knuckle deep without mercy. You immediately cry out in pleasure.

He pumps in a fast pace that has your legs trembling. Your sex is throbbing at his merciless pounding while reaching out to poke out your sweet spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking with your juices. You can feel yourself coming again, as he quicken his pace, you bite down on your lips to ride out the pleasure you are feeling. His thumb busy with your clit and his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“I’m coming. F-fuck, Taeyong. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You like that huh?”

“God, y-yes.”

You can feel the hot liquid dripping between your legs. God, your core is still throbbing at the aftermath of his finger fucking, and you still want more.

“Fuck me Taeyong. F-fuck me hard.”

He immediately scrambles to his feet upon your request. Removing his boxers, you could see his dick, with a searing red tip oozing with precum. You are really aroused at the sight of him wrapping his hands around his dick, giving it quick strokes.

“Open for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he mounted you, crushing his mouth into yours as he thrust his dick into you. A sob of pure and overwhelming pleasure eases up your throat. Your walls stretch with him inside. He eases himself, pushing his dick to the extent of your hot walls. Arching, you brought him deeper inside. Your hips move in desperate, greedy time, urging him on.

In that fleeting moment before you both plunged into the roaring darkness, you understood that there will be no room for another man in your mind, in your soul, in your heart. It will always be him, Lee Taeyong.

Taeyong reaches out to stroke a palm down your exquisite curves and hollows that drives him mad all night and day while he reaches his point. You take him well, with him cumming inside you. Both of your breathing are ragged. The weak light illuminating from Taeyong’s lampshade cast your silhouettes. When he leans to press a quick kiss on your lips, two grey shadows molded into one.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

hello, this eaten all the left energy in my body so i hope you guys love this one! :D

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #neohours #lee taeyong #lee taeyong imagines #nct127 #nct #nct u #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 one shot #boxer!au #boxer!taeyong #nct taeyong imagine

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook��x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey? We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa

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natromanxoff · 2 years

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Queen + Paul Rodgers live at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, CA, USA - October 22, 2005

Fan Stories

“I had only become a Queen fan 2 years ago, in 2003, which is way too late for me to witness an authentic Queen concert. This was the closest thing I can get to a live Queen experience, and so it was very special to me. I'll have to be cliche and spend a lot of time describing the setlist, so try not to mind that. :) I arrived at the Hollywood Bowl 20 minutes late, thanks to the wonderful Hollywood traffic. Fortunately, the show only started the moment I sat down on my seat, and the beginnings of Lose Yourself blared out the speakers as the It's A Beautiful Day intro faded out. Now, I've tried my best to not read about anything regarding the tour before the show so as to not be spoiled, but I've heard of them starting with an Eminem song. Still, when the moment came, it was pretty awkward to hear such a song being played at a good ol' rock concert. However, halfway through, Brian (still hidden behind the curtains) played some licks with his Red Special to augment the song, and the crowd roared its approval. The song then ended, and Paul made his way out, dressed in all red, singing Reaching Out. After a few lines, the curtain fell, and the full band exploded into Tie Your Mother Down. The noise was unbelievable; the crowd went crazy throughout the song, especially the 2 guys in front of me (who got more and more drunk as the show went on, making for an amusing sight). Apparently Brian got too excited, as his strap almost came off during the first minute of the song, and he had to let out a slight smile as he put it back on. Some White Man licks followed the song, and I thought I'd went back in time to 1977. Fat Bottomed Girls then followed, after which Brian "formally introduced us Queen people" to Paul. Another One Bites The Dust followed shortly, and the band ended the Queen extravaganza with Crazy Little Thing Called Love, which included an extremely loud "READY FREDDIE!" response from the crowd. Paul got on the keyboards, and introduced the next song as "something he wrote one evening a long time ago," and started the melody to Bad Company. I hadn't heard this song before, but the crowd went nuts again, and I could see why as the song was pure rock'n'roll. After that finished, the lights dimmed, and Roger took walked to the front of catwalk with Jamie and Danny, both armed with acoustic guitars. He dedicated this next song to Freddie, and started Say It's Not True. I haven't heard this song as well, but I have to say, it is beautiful. The sombre content of the lyric combined with the light rhythm set the tone for the song, but this is also when the waiters started making the rounds with their assorted food and beer. Sure enough, Roger addressed this after the song, commenting that he "knows it's been 23 years since we've last been here, but I swear I just saw a fucking waiter." :) He then made his line about condoms, and Danny was apparently wearing 2 and Jamie 3. He then gave the stage back to Brian, and up he walks with an acoustic guitar in hand. The Queen fans knew what was coming, and the 2 guys in front of me stood up. He talked a bit before starting '39, and one of the two guys began shouting in approval, telling his companion that he owes him 5 dollars. :) Brian ended with the "God bless all of you in California" line, getting his cheap pop. He then started Love of My Life after dedicating it to Freddie. He started to let the audience take over the vocals, but a lot of people didn't join in, and he decided to sing the whole song himself. That was a pretty disappointing moment, to be honest. I wanted magic to happen, but nope. Ah, well, maybe next time.

Brian stayed in front, but got back his Red Special. The slow version of Hammer To Fall started, and I can't help but stand up, knowing what's coming next. Sure enough, the band blasted back with the fast version, and the audience went crazy again. Paul came back to take over the vocals, and the band followed with Feel Like Making Love, which I noted for its amazing light displays. During the chorus, blue, red and green lights flashed at us consecutively, and it gave for an amazing display. Everyone then left the stage again for Roger's Let There Be Drums, which he kept short, as he apparently likes it. He then started the countdown for I'm In Love With My Car, but his mic somehow ended up far from his mouth, and he had to adjust before starting again. The song went without a hitch though, and the drunk guy in front of me started emulating driving a car and praising all its parts. :) The lights then dimmed again, and a sole spotlight focused on Brian. I made sure to time his solo, and it clocked in at 4 and a half minutes, surprisingly. Maybe he wasn't all that happy with his guitar? Still, it was worth it just to hear the deafening Chinese Torture being implemented into the solo. The huge screen on the back then played some scenes from London, I believe, including the Dominion Theatre and Buckingham Palace. Brian (I believe) re-enacted his playing on top of the Palace as Last Horizon started, and the video gradually changed to stars, and the disco ball started spinning, turning the whole stage into an array of stars. That, combined with my first listen to the simply beautiful Last Horizon, made the experience one-of-a-kind. Brian finished off with a bang, and Roger came out again to start These Are The Days of Our Lives. Nothing much of note happened on the first verse, but they showed some clips of Queen in their Japan trip on '75 for the second verse, and the crowd exploded when we saw John and Freddie. It was an amazing moment, to say the least, and it was even better when Roger followed up with Radio Ga Ga. Disappointingly, not many hands came up for the chorus, but the drunk guy and I made sure we played our part, and clapped the hell out of ourselves. Again, Paul came back out, and as the next song started, he told us to welcome SLASH! Sure enough, he came out in all his hairy glory, and Can't Get Enough progressed with an overload of guitar. As the song ended and Slash left, we are hit by Rock'n'roll Fantasy, which I unfortunately hadn't heard before the concert as well. I was aching for another classic Queen rock tune, and was rewarded with I Want It All. By now, the drunk guy and I dropped all pretense, and went crazy over every riff (perhaps too late). The lights during this song were crazy; we were continuously blinded with the repeated flashing of the white lights. I was seeing red flashes by the time the song ended, but wasn't given any time to recover as finally, Bohemian Rhapsody started.

Now, I'm a major Queen fan, and have heard almost all of the songs that they ever played, but Bohemian Rhapsody remains the best for me. The video screen showed us Freddie during the Wembley concert, and thanks to the wonders of technology, he looked like he was right there in the Bowl with us, just above Roger's drumkit. It was an amazing sight to see, although all of us knew that it was just an optical trick. The song went on with the operatic bit, which showed multiple clips of Freddie in his full glory. Finally, the moment where the band exploded into the rock and roll part of the song came, and many heads in the audience started banging. Paul came back out for his "duet" with Freddie, and we were just enjoying every second of it. Eventually, the last chord of the song (which came WAY too soon) brought about a flaming Queen crest on the screen, and the crowd was at our loudest. Everyone took their bows and took their (fake) leave, but everyone obviously knew that it was not the end of the concert. The drunk guy: "Don't you even dare!" The trademark few minutes of cheering and clapping to an empty, dark stage commenced, and we were rewarded with the opening keyboard chords of Show Must Go On. I knew that that song meant the show was coming to an end very, very soon, and after All Right Now, I was begging Roger to not start the We Will Rock You beat. Unfortunately, he did, and everyone started clapping along to the beat. Brian's solo is still godlike, even after hearing it so many times. We Are The Champions then rightfully followed, and everyone was finally on their feet, singing along and waving their hands. Again, it ended much too soon for me, and a few minutes later, I was clapping and cheering the band while they were taking their bows along with God Save The Queen blasting out of the speakers. Well, that's the end of my story. I stood there for a while, looking at the stage and reliving back the concert. As I left, I was demanding that Queen come back for a proper US tour next year. Being only 17, I have a lot of time to catch up on the great music of the 70s and the 80s that I missed out on, so they better come back! (And if you're reading this, sorry to the elderly couple that I must have blocked half the concert by standing up and going crazy).” - Nameless

“The Queen + Paul Rodgers show at the Hollywood Bowl was exciting in that it was one of just two American shows scheduled for the "Return of the Champions" tour and their L.A. presence had garnered some media coverage from such national outlets as Entertainment Tonight. Songs such as "Radio Ga Ga", "Hammer To Fall" and "I Want It All" had never been performed live to American crowds. I arrived at the Bowl an hour early. It was a cool, drizzly night up in the Cahuenga Pass. For anyone who hasn't seen a show at the Hollywood Bowl, it's a uniquely beautiful experience. A huge expanse of 20,000 seats beaming from the cavernous proscenium stage set in a backdrop of California's golden mountains. Whenever I go to the Bowl I think about acts such as The Doors and Jimi Hendrix who made legendary stops there. (Maybe that's why the band picked Jimi as their pre-show music?). I'm an absolute fan of Queen but I had no illusions about this show. Freddie Mercury was sadly absent. The remaining members are in their fifties and needed some help from session musicians. This concert was about pure indulgence and nostalgia. It's the unapologetic enjoyment of hearing these classic songs played live for perhaps the last time. Amongst the crowd, I overheard the incessant comparisons between Paul Rodgers and Freddie Mercury. I also noticed a suprising number of kids in the sell-out crowd, all of which are far too young to remember Queen with Freddie and were maybe hoping to see the Queen "magic". In many ways, there was a very uncomfortable feeling at this show - an awkwardness that hampered some of the fun. I think we were all expecting Freddie to come racing out onto the catwalk, and in that sense, it's a show full of anti-climaxes. Criticism aside, these guys are still really good. Brian May sounded better than ever. He pulled himself through "Love of My Life" with a broken guitar string and a songless crowd. Roger stepped out to take over vocals on "Say It's Not True," which was a wonderful emotional high point of the show. Even though we'd never heard the song before, he somehow managed to connect with the sadness that much of the crowd was feeling. The L.A. crowd was very energized by the Bad Company songs. Queen helped him on some ripping renditions of "Bad Company", "All Right Now", "Can't Get Enough" (featuring Slash!), "Feel Like Makin' Love" and "Rock & Roll Fantasy". Bad Company gets tremendous radio airplay in America and I think these additions to the setlist gave the crowd a fun feeling. I loved Roger's quip in the middle of the show as he looked down into the front rows of the Bowl crowd. "Did I just see a fucking waiter? I didn't know this was dinner theater." Rock concerts in L.A. are decidedly more frilly than in other cities. I felt like the crowd REALLY woke up when "Bohemian Rhapsody" came in. Any image of Freddie on the big screens seemed to spur a crowd eruption. The Freddie montage during the song's "opera section" was an amazing moment and when Paul and the band rocked out, every man, woman and child (lots of children) were on their feet cheering. Unfortunately due to the rainy conditions, the catwalk was rendered unusable for most of the show. I think this hurt the mood somewhat. And the show ends on a strong note with "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions". Most everyone was swaying arm-in-arm to the chorus. In the end, the show manages to overcome some of the strangeness of a "different" lead singer, especially one who is markedly less dynamic than Freddie. Yes, these guys look pretty old and slow on the big screens but they still play cleaner than The Rolling Stones. And then there's Brian May, who is absolutely one of the best guitarists in the world. For anyone like me who thought the "Wembley '86" was Brian's best performance, I can assure you - he's even better now.

Will be interested to hear some stories from people who see the 2006 shows!” - Ryan

(x)

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #paul rodgers #queen concerts #queen + paul rodgers concerts

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berri-hopefulspouse · 3 years

Text

Windblume Songs

Characters: Aether “Traveler” X Self-Insert Character (Ren), Paimon, Kaeya (Mentioned)

TW: ED Imp, General Weight Issues, Abandonment Issues

Summary: After both him and Albedo confessing during the Windblume Festival, Aether and Ren spend some time together to take some time for themselves...

Cough,,, this took too long, I started writing this right after the Windblume Festival and it’s....August now... cough. Anyway take.

Something about the air felt surreal. Like at any given moment, they would wake up- and everything that had occurred today would be nothing but a dream. Maybe it was the way their face was still wet with tears, ones Ren would occasionally wipe off into the crest of their arm. Maybe it was the way their other hand was intertwined with his. Maybe it was the way the wind even smelled sweet with flowers and freedom and feeling almost completely at ease. Surreal. Like none of this should be happening.

Everytime they tried to think about whether or not the scenario playing out before them was real...it was like their mind outright rejected it. Their traumatized, scarred heart, was so afraid of reality crashing in- that it refused to accept outright that this WAS the reality.

More tears fell from their cheeks.

“Ren?” A voice snaps them back out of their way-too-thoughtful stupor, “You’ve been quiet…”

“Huh? Oh...s-sorry, I’m fine.” They immediately dismissed, out of habit, however when the blonde turned to face them, and thus stopping their walking in its tracks, they took a moment to observe the blonde before them.

5’2”, with soft curly blonde hair that was still set in its typical braid, Aether could only put his opposing gloved hand that wasn’t still held tightly in theirs to their cheek, wiping the soft galactic shimmers off their cheeks.

“You’re crying.” He remarked, as if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“I-I’m sorry,” They said again, a sheepish grin on their face, “I just...I don’t believe this is real. That someone like you could even...tolerate someone like me, let alone…”

Aether rose an eyebrow at that, wiping a few more tears from the corners of their eyes as they had trailed off.

“Is it that unbelievable that I love you, Ren?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his tone with the smallest hint of teasing. Paimon, who had been behind the two for most of this time- thankfully quiet, Aether had noted to himself- finally spoke up with a cheeky little huff.

“That’s what Paimon’s been trying to tell them! But they don’t ever listen to Paimon!” She retorts, which earns her an embarrassed glare from the shorter half-adepti.

“I-It’s not! I just…” Ren stumbled for an excuse, shoulders bunching up as they tried to hide their face from him. Yet, none came, instead another outpour of tears, causing the traveler to bristle a bit with anxiety.

“H-hey, it’s okay, I’m just joking with you!” He quickly backtracked, “I mean- I know you struggle with a lot…Struggle with figuring out yourself, and struggle with keeping people close...”

“...It is a bit of a surprise…” They admitted, closing their eyes and steeling themselves before giving a soft sigh- deciding to try and let their walls down...just a bit, “You’re someone not from this world...someone who’s on a mission before going off to your next big quest...I didn’t think you’d get attached to someone like me. Someone who’s...afraid to lose more people. Someone who doesn’t want to get hurt again.”

“Yeah,” Aether nodded in agreement, “I didn’t...want to, honestly. But, I’m...glad I did, if it meant I get to be with you. I want to help you. Just like how you helped me stay here, in the present, rather than just focus on the future.”

“Aether…” Their voice was quiet, a bare whisper in comparison to their usual loud tone, “You don’t need to fix me. I just want you here with me, as you are. That’s enough for me.”

“I didn’t say you needed to be fixed. Or that you’re broken to begin with,” He remarked, earning him a light smack on the arm.

“Meanie!”

“Ow- Sorry!” He laughed a bit, Paimon slowly floating her way back beside Aether.

“Are you two done? Because Paimon’s hungry, and the Windblume Festival is still in full swing!” Crossing her arms, she glances to Aether, who sighs and nods.

“Yeah, let’s keep going…” He smiled over to Ren at that, “After that, I think I’ll let Kaeya babysit you for a while, Paimon.”

“Wh- HEY! Paimon’s not a child that needs to be babysitted! Babysat?...” Paimon’s protest died in her mouth as she fumbled with the right word to use, “Babysatted!”

“Wrong on all accounts,” Aether lightly poked fun at her, lightly jabbing her side, causing Paimon to squeal and bat at Aether’s face.

“Oh hush!! Language can be difficult sometimes!” She squeaked, face red from embarrassment. Aether burst into a fit of laughter, quickly taking off in a sprint to avoid Paimon’s assault. And as a result, dragging Ren with him- who after stumbling for a brief second, quickly matched his pace.

“Sorry Paimon!” Ren couldn’t help but laugh alongside him, “See you at Good Hunter’s!”

Paimon squealed in annoyance, quickly taking off after them and shouting an array of what she would consider “insults” towards both the traveler and his partner as they headed back to the latter’s hometown, Mondstadt.

Taking a couple breaths as the two had slowed to a stop at Mondstadt’s gate, Ren taking slow deeper breaths as they regained their will to stand. Aether only chuckled at them, giving a gentle pet to their head, “Sorry, I didn’t want to get bapped to death by Paimon.”

“It’s fine...I’m just-” They panted between their words, tone barely mumbled as a hiss between their sharper teeth, “-Out of shape. Severely out of shape.”

“You’d think after all the travelling you did with me, you’d be more in shape,” Aether teases, earning him a swift kick to the shin, “OW!”

“Don’t joke about that, jeez!!” They pouted, embarrassed as they turned their face away from him, wide-set ears downturned in discontentment. Aether chuckled sheepishly, holding his shin with one hand for a moment in an attempt to ease the pain before setting his foot back down and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, okay, sorry. I won’t joke about it anymore,” Aether apologized, a hand then reaching just behind their little elf-like ears and giving a small scritch, “I forgot you can be a bit self-conscious about those kind’ve things.”

“Hmph,” Still pouty, they tried to look away from him, but the slight flush of their face gave them away easily, and within another few moments they leaned in further to his hand, a soft rumble of a purr rising from their throat.

Smiling to himself, the two stayed like that for a few moments, letting Ren relax a bit more until their eyes shut in a soft contentment, before opening again and giggling.

“Okay, okay, let’s go get food, I’m sure Paimon’s already waiting for us.” They responded, a hand reaching up to gently hold his once again. Their hand was warm, both from holding it earlier and from their natural body heat, and Aether couldn’t help but blush a bit to himself as well as he nodded in agreement, following Ren inside.

Heading over to Good Hunter’s, Aether went to go order the food for the three of them as Ren sat across from Paimon, who hovered in her chair impatiently, lightly bobbing her head from side to side in mild boredom. Ren couldn’t help but chuckle, a hand over their mouth to try and suppress the sound.

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how well you and Aether get along.”

“Psh, as if!” Paimon pouts, still clearly fussed over the little dispute earlier, “He always calls Paimon emergency food and treats Paimon like a child!”

“Yet, you still follow him around, and still are willing to travel with him~!” Ren refutes, lightly twirling their finger idly in a circle to make a point, making a light pop sound with their lips, “Checkmate.”

Paimon gave a little huff, crossing her arms as she looked away from the brunette, seemingly not having a rebuttal to their claims.

Ren bursts into a small fit of catatonic laughter, trying to quiet themselves somewhat with a shaky hand over their mouth but to very little avail. Paimon couldn’t help but notice, when she looked away, Aether was staring over towards them- a simple soft smile on his face as he was waiting for Sara to finish preparing their drinks at the very least. Paimon couldn’t help but relax at that, knowing Aether was happy, and chuckled as well alongside the brunette- however for a different reason altogether.

Settling back down after a couple of moments, Ren rubs the mirthful tears from their eyes as Aether walked back over- a small armful of drinks in tow, “I told Sara to let me handle giving you guys your drinks, so she could focus on the food.”

“That’s quite sweet of you!” Paimon pointed out as Aether slotted himself into the chair between Paimon and Ren, “Paimon noticed you’ve been really happy lately!”

“What gave you that idea?” Aether joked, knowing full well the two knew why, however Ren simply gave a confused tilt of the head, opting to just listen to the two banter as usual.

“Hmm, well, it just seems like ever since you and Soren had sorted your situation out, you’ve just seemed to brighten up! Paimon noticed how you smiled at them a lot more than usual, and your willingness to help those around you has gotten much more... proactive.” Paimon tried to explain, somewhat fumbling over her words, ending up sputtering as Aether simply put the cup to her mouth and tilted it towards her- causing her drink to start spilling into her mouth as she spoke. It earned a chuckle from Ren, as she bapped at the glass until Aether set it back down- a cheeky amused grin never leaving his features.

“Did you ask Paimon that just to do that?!” She exclaimed as she regained her composure from the surprise, “That’s mean!”

“It’s called a prank, Paimon,” Aether lightly teased, before whispering quietly, “Besides, you were saying too much.”

“But it’s the truth! Paimon knew you were harboring feelings before, but now after that whole mess, it seems like you’re ready to take on anything!”

Aether chuckled sheepishly, a blush having started to break his mischievous composure from before, “C’mon, I’m sure I’m not acting that different from how I normally do.”

Ren hummed in thought, ears lightly twitching as they considered the light bickering and banter between the two, before adding in their own two-cents.

“Well, sure, you’re not acting much different,” They piped up, “But your energy is notably shifted. Like you're no longer as distant from the current state of things… like you're actually emotionally present, for once.”

“Huh?” Aether tilted his head, a bit confused as to Ren’s sudden explanation, to which they further clarified.

“Your body language changes depending on your current psychological state of mind, and your overall well-being. If you’re in a decent mood, you stand as you normally would. Sad, and it’ll show. It takes much practice to hide emotions to the point your body language doesn’t give you away, but even so, someone like me can read how you feel pretty easily... I just haven’t before until now.”

Aether and Paimon sat in silence for a few moments, processing what they said and furthermore what in the actual hell any of that actually meant. Ren flustered up, ears twitching once more as they laughed almost nervously.

“Did I forget to mention I’m an empath? It’s a type of person who’s exceptionally good at reading other peoples feelings, and feeling them themselves. It derives from the word empathy,” They sheepishly explained further, “I’ve been able to read people’s emotions for as long as I can remember… which, isn’t much, but I was probably able to do it before I woke up in Mondstadt as well. I just hadn’t before because I feel it’s usually intrusive to do so. So I repress doing so, unless I feel like others are in need of help.”

“How do you repress something like that?” Aether asked, not in disbelief but rather out of curiosity, resting his cheek into the palm of his hand as he looked to them, and they knew he had to be listening quite closely. They turned even more flustered out of shyness.

“I-it’s something I’ve learned overtime...if I had my abilities on all the time, I’d go crazy. It’s more about training yourself to focus inward, and focus on yourself, rather than those around you. Sometimes I slip up, especially when I’m tired or in a bad mood, but I never read you before, Aether.” They turned to him as they spoke his name, and smiled, “...But you’re calming. Calm, mixing with joy and...and…” They stuttered, unable to say the word they knew was on the tip of their tongue. Aether only giggled as they shyly hid their face in their hands, a soft little shy whine drawing from the back of their throat. He could only reassuringly pet their head, and shake his own head.

“Don’t worry, I know. Still, that’s...an amazing ability to have.” Aether simply responded, “I’m glad you told us.”

“I kind’ve….Kind’ve forgot to tell you both… we were so busy, it must’ve slipped my mind. It’s why I’m so invested in other people’s well being.” They mumbled between their fingers, eventually looking back to meet Aether’s calming yet deep gaze into their anxious dark brown eyes.

“Looking back, it makes sense...you always knew just when to step in and force us to either rest, or to take a breather to keep us from overexerting ourselves.” Aether noted, recalling all the times they helped out in what he thought were smaller ways- but were in actuality just as important as their abilities to fight and deduction skills, “You’re really talented…”

“I wouldn’t say that… You had to teach me how to fight and such, I’m not that talented.” They spoke down upon themselves again, brushing the bangs out of their eyes. Aether gave a bit of a pout, raising an eyebrow doubtfully at their statement.

“Ren, before we met you knew how to sing, how to dance, how to draw- to the point you had made it your job. And now you just mentioned that you had this ability to read others emotions. Not to mention,” Aether cheekily held up the poem they had written for him, and watched the tips of their ears flush in a galactic blush, “You can write exceptionally well. You’re amazing, Ren.”

Ren remained quiet, though they were clearly starting to smile, he could see it in their eyes. Letting their hands fall, sure enough, there was a sharp-toothed grin on their face.

“I-I…” Eventually they tried to speak, “...Thank you.”

That got Aether to chuckle again, a hand reaching down to gently scratch behind their ears once more, “There we go, that’s better.”

Still, he was surprised to find the brunette lightly yanking his chair closer to them, and hug the blonde tightly. He hesitated for a split second, before returning the gesture wholeheartedly.

“No, really...thank you. I-I know I probably make things difficult sometimes, but hearing that from you just...means so much...It lets me know I’m doing something right.” They mumbled into his shirt, cheek pressed into his chest, “I just...I...you mean a lot to me.”

Aether paused for a second. Did it sound like they were about to say something else, or was it just him?

Still, before he would ask, Sara approached with food, coughing nervously to herself to get the trio’s attention. Sighing to himself, he watched as Ren jumped back a few feet with a nervous squeak, falling off the chair in the process. He guessed he would ask later on, after having dinner of course, so he smiled and thanked Sara for her effort, picking almost nervously at his food as Paimon began to eat, trying not to clearly laugh.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Later on that evening, after Aether had passed off Paimon to a very peeved Cavalry Captain, him alongside Ren were walking just around Mondstadt, taking in the cheer of the environment. Various forms of music played in the streets as many sorts of bards who called the city their home sang various tales from their lives, sung of the god Barbatos, Sung of the tale of the windfaring dragon. Hands intertwined, Ren hummed along to the songs as they passed by, seemingly calm in the city. Part of him was glad they were so calm in such a busy environment, as when they were in Liyue- during the time of the lantern rite as a matter of fact- he recalled they mentioned feeling overwhelmed with all the pretty lights and music and people. In a way, it showed that Mondstadt truly was their home.

It was starting to get rather late, the sun barely shimmering still in a pale pink and orange sky. Thankfully, it was another gorgeous evening in Mondstadt. The Windblume Ceremony would be tomorrow night, a signal to the end of the festivities. As it turned out, Aether had been chosen to pick the flower to represent Mondstadt in this year’s celebration- although he still held the question in the back of his mind...truly, what WAS a Windblume flower?

But, for the time being, he didn’t need to think about it, he supposed. Mostly because, for the time being, Aether’s focus was on Ren, and the way the sunset had framed their face in a soft reddish orange glow. Their eyes were-quite literally- sparkling, no longer worried about their own struggles or concerns, but simply enjoying the feeling in the air of the festival. They turned to look at Aether, and he flustered up a bit.

“Isn’t the Windblume Festival just so much fun? It has such a better energy than the lantern rite in Liyue!” They spoke with conviction, letting go of his hand only for a brief moment to do a small sprint forward with an excited twirl and a cat-like chirp of joy. Aether only watched their movements with a small smile on his face, honestly only half paying attention to what they said. It had to be the first time since he first met them that he’s seen them this...legitimately happy.

“Yeah, sure is...beautiful.” Aether said, though more-so to himself than to the twirling brunette, watching their sash twirl with them. Mostly because, in fact, he wasn’t talking about the Windblume Festival… he was talking about them, having fun for once without a care in the world. Beautiful.

For a long time, before he finally shoved past his fears and confessed to them, he had shoved these thoughts down into the deepest areas of his subconscious, not wanting to think of things like personal relationships or anything of the sort. Not when Lumine had told him to leave Teyvat, not when he still had to find his dear sister.

Yet, like pandora’s box, it seemed those thoughts were resurfacing now, watching them goof off and twirl and spin and-

“Ren, be careful!” Aether snapped out of his thoughts quick enough to speak, however he could only watch them lose their footing and land into the water of the fountain that surrounded Barbatos’s statue.

Rather than be upset though, naturally the hydro equipped adepti simply started cackling, not bothering to try and get back up for a few good moments while they rode the high of their positive energy. It was infectious, and sure enough a moment later Aether couldn’t help but to shake his head and laugh as well. He couldn’t help it, despite everything they could be so bright sometimes- and despite what they had faced, they still chose to smile and help others. It was admirable.

“Here, take my hand,” He walked over to where they sat, offering a hand to them. He watched water droplets quietly circle around their head- a habit they tended to do when they were in the water as a result of their vision. Smiling, they took his hand, although that smile quickly fell into an open mouthed gasp as he pulled them up and into his chest. And for that moment, time stilled.

“Hey, Soren,” His voice was quiet, tender, and considerate, “...Do you remember when we first met? It was in this same plaza, and you were humming the song the bard’s playing right now.”

As he spoke, they felt a slightly harsher, but still intending to be gentle wind along their back as Aether gently ran his hand up more towards their shoulder blades, using a small bit of his anemo abilities as he did so to dry them off from their spill into the fountain only moments prior.

“I remember, yeah,” They responded after a moment of trying to find the willpower to actually speak again, “It was right after your first encounter with Dvalin...and before we became teammates.”

“Mhm,” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he felt them shudder a bit from the cold bite of wind along their neck, “Sorry, your clothes can be pretty thick.”

That at least got a giggle out of them, bangs fluffing out of their face and making a bit of a frizzy mess as it dried at the elemental magic, delicate hands that wielded a sword gently combing through the dark brown locks. Hearing a soft sigh, Aether only chuckled even more at their reaction.

“I remember that I inspired you.” Aether continued after a brief moment, “How you always wanted to be an adventurer yourself, but was...too scared to. But seeing someone like me, someone who was completely new to Mondstadt and this world, manage to scare off a dragon back to his lair… It inspired you to at least try.”

Ren couldn’t help but blush and let out an embarrassed little snort.

“Yes, and then I nearly got myself killed trying to take out one of the hillichurl camps.” They grumbled quietly, clearly sheepish about the event.

“Still, when I came to help out and ended up hurt… It was the moment you got your Vision, wasn’t it? Finding your will to fight again and make things right, after your actions had gotten someone else harmed.” As the gentle breeze of anemo faded from his fingertips, they looked away flustered.

“I mean, yeah, I suppose...It just hurt my heart to see someone else hurt because of my actions.” They mumbled, “I didn’t even think of what I had to do, I just...Put it on and went for it, I had to get them off of you.”

“You were really happy at being able to protect me, you actually started laughing and dancing not too long after that battle ended.” Aether pointed out, watching their face turn further shades of blues and purples from embarrassment.

“I had really hoped you forgotten that...I probably looked really dumb,” They muttered, trying to cover their face with one hand, only for Aether to gently grab it, a thumb rubbing gentle circles across their knuckles.

“I didn’t...but I know you definitely didn’t look stupid then. Part of me wanting to see how well you could do...well...other dances,” Aether started to fluster over his words, his somber facade cracking into a more goofy, awkward, yet very sincere one, “...I guess what I mean to say is, I wasn’t able to ask then but uh...better late than never, right? So, ah…” He cleared his throat into his opposing hand, before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, unable to meet their eyes in his own slight embarrassment.

“Little Dreamer, would you care for a dance?” He’d have to thank Xinqiu and Venti for the line later…

Ren could only blink in response to that for a few moments, fumbling over their tongue for the words to speak, and eventually stuttering out a simple little, “S-Sure…”

And just like that, time had started to move, once again.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Letting go of their hand for a brief moment, the traveler in question had simply turned to slip off his gloves, tucking them into one of the many pockets in his oversized pants. After a moment of contemplation, staring blankly at his hands for a few moments, he offered it to them with a small, shy smile.

“Shall we?” He chuckled as he spoke, watching with twitching and flittering ears as Ren had put their hand in his, the sound of the lyre nearby only seeming to grow louder as the world began to grow just more quiet. When Aether took a glance around however, he found it wasn’t a trick of his mind- while the little plaza that sat before the church of Barbatos was mainly empty- there were of course a few fortunate souls who took notice to the display, falling quiet and watching. Not to mention, the bard in question only smirked, seeming to play louder. He’ll have to make another note to pay the bard a decent tip later, although it didn’t prevent his face from turning an embarrassing shade of pink.

However, seeing Ren’s expression still frozen in shock and flusteredness, Aether hummed quietly and put his other hand on their cheek, lightly scratching behind their ear.

“It’s alright, relax. It’s just me,” He tried to calm them down, only to hear them chuckle shyly.

“You do not understand how little that helps in this,” They respond, their face a delightful shade of blues and purples.

Chuckling as well, he moved his hand from their cheek slowly down to their shoulder….down their arm, and to their waist. Ren couldn’t help but notice at the moment, the varying degree of scars that littered his hand- his somewhat calloused fingers from each battle and the little paler lines that jagged across them...and they knew that he lived a life so much more dangerous than he did now.

“Just dance how you normally would,” He spoke of reassurance, and to that they opened their mouth to say something...only to close it again seconds after with a small nod. Truth be told, they were...a bit shy about their dancing, but they wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to dance with him due to their fears and anxieties.

They fell silent after that, looking down a bit sheepishly and stepping slightly closer to Aether. Raising an eyebrow at that, he couldn’t help but chuckle even more at their shyness as the hand that held theirs adjusted slightly. The hand at their waist tightened, just a bit, comfortingly. He wouldn’t let them go- not again. Not when he almost lost them several times now in several aspects.

So, slowly, taking the initiative, he began to move- carefully and elegantly. One step to the side turned to another, Ren following each movement almost naturally. Hands entwined, that felt like they were meant for this purpose alone- to be held by the other. One step, two step, three, he felt their shoulders relax a bit, their other hand loosely draped over his shoulder. Tightened, tense and nervous tanned fingers slowly loosened, as with each beat of their heart and the strum of the lyre melted away their anxieties. Right here, at this moment, nothing else mattered.

The only thing that mattered was the warmth of his hands, the warmth of his breath- which they could feel ever so slightly brush against their face as they pressed just a bit closer to him- feeling their chest brush against his stomach.

Ren couldn’t help it, a smile started to escape their anxious features, letting the music slowly seep through the fear and worries that plagued their heart, and delve deep into the features of their soul. When nothing else was there for them- music truly was. It was the one thing they cherished in this world more than life itself. People could abandon them, people could leave, and yet music was always there waiting for them in times of sadness, or right now...in times of joy.

Slowly, their steps started to deviate, a slight bit. A bit more graceful, a bit more elegant, more relaxed and calm and at peace with everything in the world. Yet, more complicated- Aether had to focus to keep up with their movements- lest he trip.

Aether could feel it too, the way the whole world started to fall apart around him- how everything else in the background had faded to nothing else but white noise all except for himself, and the tiny little nonbinary before him. The little hydro being with literal stars in their eyes and glitter radiating from their hair at each movement, with dewdrops starting to lightly dance around their face as they were losing themselves in the calmness of the music. All there was, was himself, and them. Nothing else- no one else- mattered for the time being.

The more they relaxed, the more confident the two became in their movements. Uncertain steps of hesitation turned to confident strides, gliding across the concrete like it was made specifically to keep up with their movements. Just as quickly, the two fell into sync. Letting go of their waist at the perfect time as they gave a gentle twirl, never letting go of his hand and twirling away- then back towards him. Him, gently scooping them upwards into his arms to twirl them around, the braid of his hair starting to get messy in the flurry of movement and wind and peace. Yet, it was all so perfect. With every few steps, the two would step on the other’s foot, or his hand would slip a bit and accidentally grab at their hip, or he would almost be sent tumbling into the concrete- yet, it felt so fluid and simple and perfect. Simply perfect. Something that matched the both of them, he would even argue.

Never letting go of the other’s hand, the two danced in a way that almost seemed like their souls were connected. Even if the one fumbled, the other made it seem intentional, and vice versa. Hands would trail between brushing away strands of hair, to gliding down the other’s body, gently grabbing at clothes and dramatic gestures that made them both smile. The music got louder still, but not in an overwhelming way...in fact, in a way that swallowed them both whole. Ren’s heart started to race, energy surging through them with a mix of overexcitement and pure joy. Their movements starting to get even more complicated, making Aether struggle to keep up if not slightly. He never had to really learn these particular dance moves- so where did they learn them from? Was there something they couldn’t do?

Once again, they twirled, this time taking the blonde with them- him quickly gripping their waist to prevent either of them from falling as their hair whirled around them- catching in their face and then being swept away again in the wind as they kept twirling, twirling, twirling. He felt the band in his braid start to come loose, and eventually fly off with the force of gravity working against him- blonde strands starting to go into a chaotic cacophony of giggling and laughter as Aether could only scoop them back up, taking control of the whirls and twirls in both of their steps to keep them both from tumbling back into the fountain once again in their flurry of dancing. As if, if they didn’t keep moving, the world would collapse around them, and reality would come crashing back in once again. Aether couldn’t help but lightly toss them up, a surge of anemo accompanying it to send Ren flying up- and following his feeling, Ren elegantly twirled up into the sky, sending specks of water into the sky that caught the sun perfectly to light the plaza in a warm rainbow light of dew dropped light. Falling back to the ground, Aether easily caught them in his arms, continuing to twirl as the dewdrops followed them down, lightly raining themselves and the clearing in a gentle mist. Aether couldn’t help but laugh, them following suit as their air grew slightly damp, as they kept twirling to the song, Aether’s hands clasped to their form to keep them steady as their cheek nuzzled into his neck, his frizzy messy hair almost akin to wings that shielded them from the world.

The music had started to slow, and with it, their movements- Aether setting Ren back down after a few moments as they pressed themselves straight to his body. The curtain of hair settled, revealing the two back to the rest of the world, although it definitely couldn’t be said that he looked as graceful as he did a bit ago with his hair starting to curl at the ends- strands frizzing up from the new humidity of the plaza. Following their slowing movements, Aether couldn’t help but lightly rest his head atop of theirs, cradling them to him as their feet moved slowly to the rhythm of the lyre that slowly ebbed away, until the plaza was quiet once again… leaving just them, in revire and a happy afterglow that could only be accomplished from feeling their souls truly connect on a level far beyond the mortal concept of love.

There were a few whispers amongst the small crowd that had gathered in the time; as well as the cheers of a very happy Paimon, but all Aether could hear was the ragged breath of his partner, a little worn from the burst of energy that had made their body act against its own accord only moments before. Blonde strands of hair fell in his face as he looked back down to them, brushing some dark hair from their face.

“I love you,” It was something softly spoken, words he had previously only reserved for his sister. But now, he had even more reason to say them. His breath was equally hastened, catching puffs of breath after the excitement and adrenaline. Ren looked back up to him in response, a smile on their face and sparkles in their eyes as they responded.

“...I love you too, Aether.” And a gentle kiss of reassurance placed on his mouth sent the crowd- and Paimon- into rapturous applause.

Windblume, afterall, was a time of love. Even for the Honorary Knight, and for the lost Dreamer of the Realms. If even those two could find love within each other; certainly there was always hope that love was truly out there- wasn’t there?

Even then, that didn’t matter in the end- at the end of the day; Aether had Ren. And Ren now had him. And for that perfect moment in time, that was all that ever truly mattered. Their perfect little Windblume Dance….and their perfect Windblume song.

#[ Ren Rambles ]#[ Storytime! ]#[ Stormy Winds ]#I finished this yesterday during the blackout #Anyway taketh

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harryspet · 4 years

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Guarding Genevieve - h.s.

[Warnings] harry styles x named oc, girl!sub x dominant!possessive!jealous!boy, bodyguard, spanking, handcuffs, angst, mild violence

In which genevieve sneaks away for the evening and her loyal bodyguard finds her and decides to punish her for it.

word count: 1.8k

Gen should've been happy that she was on some beach in a beautiful foreign country and away from the dangerous men who had intentions of hurting and even killing her. Still, she missed her friends and her family back in the states, who she wasn't allowed to contact anymore. For the past month, the only "friend" she's had was Harry.

Harry was a sad excuse for a friend.

He was an attentive man. Ten years working for the special forces of the government will do that to you but how did that teenage girl manage to slip from his hands. He was getting his usual four hours of sleep and, usually, he heard everything that went on in their house but, when he woke up at two in the morning, he felt something was wrong.

He picked up the gun that always sat on his nightstand and focused his hearing. He checked her room and found the form of her body laying between the sheets. He almost brushed off his feeling of worry until he realized that her chest wasn't slowly rising and falling. He walked over and pulled back the comforter, finding an array of pillows instead of a human body.

Fuck, he cursed mentally. Her father wasn't paying him six figures to lose her.

It only took five minutes to search the rest of the house, put on some clothes, tuck his gun in the waistband of his pants and file out of the door. As he expected, the car was still there which meant she had made it out on foot. The little rich girl never learned to drive because she had always had a chauffeur. Thank God she couldn't be far away.

Knowing her, the young lush, she was probably at the nearest bar or club.

"Where are you from?" The blonde-haired boy with sun-kissed skin, a local, asked her. They had been flirting for at least ten minutes and he had bought her a drink, thankfully, because she had no money on her. Harry was in charge of the financials. However, she did have a little black dress that helped convince him.

"Chicago," She lied. She ran away from the man keeping her safe but she wasn't stupid enough to tell a stranger any personal info.

"Never been," He said, "I can imagine why you'd want to get away. The scenery here must be much better."

She nodded, "Yeah," She sipped her bloody mary, "I like the views here very much," She did this thing, gave men this sparkly-eyed look, that would bring men to their knees. Every man except Harry of course.

The bar was right on the ocean and she was definitely right about the views, "So how long are you going to be in town?"

"Just for the night," She lied again, "I really just wanted to do something fun before I get back to reality, you know?"

"Fun, huh," He bit down on his bottom lip as he thought for a moment, "Let's see, my buddies and I have a place on the water just a few miles from here. We could hang out, have some more privacy if you want."

"I would love some privacy," Her words had a double meaning, of course, because Harry had been invading hers for the past month. They had a few more drinks and laughs before he paid the bar tab and they headed out to his car.

He was about to take her hand when Gen realized she left her jacket inside, "Hey, stay right here, give me one second," She said before turning around. The jacket was where she left it but, when she returned, her hot date was not where she had left him.

"Dude, who the fuck are you?" Surfer guy cursed, angry that the devil himself was blocking him from getting in the car.

"Harry?" Gen spoke, eyes wide.

Surfer guy turned to face her, "No, it's Hayden, remember?"

She shook her head, "Not you," Harry stepped forward and grabbed onto the surfer guy's shoulder, pushing him roughly into his own car. "Harry, stop!"

"She's not interested, Hayden," He said his name with such distaste, "You can kill yourself drunk driving but she will be staying with me."

He was obviously too disoriented to fight back. Even when he tried to push Harry away, he stumbled. "Fine, keep her, cause I don't fucking want her," Now surfer guy was looking at me with distaste.

She opened her mouth to say something to the surfer guy. She was so close to defending him and screaming at Harry but the words that left his mouth took her back. Maybe she was more trouble than she was worth.

Harry stepped back and she could feel the anger radiating off of him, "Fucking bitch," she was looking down so, at first, she thought those words came from Harry expressing his anger towards her. Turns out that it was Hayden and there were exactly three seconds between him uttering the last syllables to when Harry's fist collided with the surfer guy's face.

"Harry!" She shouted after it all happened so fast. She had never seen him like that. He looked crazed. Surfer guy doubled over and then was kicked in the stomach several times.

When he was done, he grabbed Gen and pulled her away from the scene. I had no doubt that someone from the bar had witnessed the brutal scene and was in the process of calling the authorities.

The car he drove here was still running and the way it was parked suggested that he was in a hurry. Now, she was the one being pushed up against the car. His whole body was pressed into hers and his hand was around her neck. Not enough to cut off her air but enough to scare her. "I don't like killing people, love. It's not my favorite part of my job so, when you put me in situations like that, I get extremely frustrated."

He wasn't yelling but his voice was so loud in her ears and the outside world had gone silent. She gritted her teeth as she tried to push him away. "I hate you!" It only resulted in him grabbing her arm, turning her body around, so now her front was pressed against the metal. "Let go, Harry!"

"Does it seem like I'm trying to be your friend? I'm not the one with ten million on my head. I'm the one trying to keep you safe and keep my job in the process."

She felt him reaching into his pocket for something and she heard the jangling sound of metal before something clicked around her wrist. She was in the tropics but all the heat she was feeling was coming from him. There was a mix of anger and something else that she couldn't recognize.

"Harry," She whines, the metal digging into her wrist, as he forces her into the passenger seat.

"Just be grateful I'm not putting you in the trunk."

"Ugh!" She let out a frustrated breath of air, kicking the door, before finally slouching and accepting her fate.

She watched from the window as a man exited the bar, he looked like the manager, and she heard Harry as he coolly informed the man that he was a bounty hunter and I was the criminal he was charged with capturing. Apparently, she was a crazed meth head who’d gone on a crime spree.

The drive back to the house started quietly, the tension thick between them, mainly caused by how hard that Harry was gripping the steering wheel. "I don't understand it," He finally broke the silence, "You were going to sleep with him of all guys? Some random one you just met?"

His question took her back. They had spent the last month together yet this was the first personal question that he had ever asked him, "I wasn't going to sleep with him . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"No? Then what were you going to do? Have a romantic dinner?" He scoffed, the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Why does it matter?" She blurted out, "So what I was going to spend my night with someone else that wasn't you? Are you jealous or something?"

He fucked up. He got quiet and gave Gen the answer that she wasn't expecting. He knew Gen believed he had a cold heart but even he grew attached to the people around them. Especially the ones with beautiful smiles and unbelievable confidence.

"You're jealous!" She displayed a shocked look on her face. If she could cover her mouth right now, she would have. "Oh my God, Harry-" The car skidded to a halt and Harry pulled off to the side of the road.

"You're infuriating, Genevieve!"

"You like me," She was teasing him now and, although she was cute, Harry couldn't stand it.

"It's not that I like you," He corrected her, "It's that I rather you not die."

"You like me, Harry," Now she was grinning wildly.

"Genevieve-"

She interrupted him with her sing-songy words, "Harry likes me-"

It was a risk. Bolder than any risk that he had taken and the man had chosen to pull a trigger multiple times. If it was one thing that he had over her, he could change the situation quickly and he did because, seconds later, he had her bent over the middle console.

"Fine, I like you," He admitted but he had the upper hand, literally, set on her bottom. He lifted her dress and there were no more songs from her. He had taken the words from her and instead of fighting him, she found herself anticipating what was next, "But there are still rules you have to follow. Just because I like you doesn't mean that I will let you disobey me."

She jumped, squealing, as he brought his hand down on her bottom, "You're sensitive. I haven't even hit your bare bottom."

"You – are – not – to – leave – my – sight – little – girl," He punctuated each word with a spank to her bottom, causing the girl to squeal and struggle in her restraints.

She wanted to speak but her voice had disappeared as she grew more embarrassed. "If you act like a spoiled child then I will discipline you like one."

"O-Okay," She stuttered out, scared that he'd deliver one of his exciting smacks again. And with her face so close to his crotch, she didn’t want to risk anything else. "I-I get it–"

She was interrupted by the hardest spank, "And you'll address me as sir, always, and you will speak when you are spoken to. Understand?" She could practically feel the smirk growing on his face.

When she hesitated, he spanked her red bottom until she finally got the words out, "Y-Yes, Sir!"

His hands rubbed over her bottom, which stung at first until it didn't anymore. He seemed to have gotten out all of his frustration because he began to run his hands through her hair, "Things are going to be different from now on, Genevieve, but I think you'll get used to it. You might even enjoy it."

Then he did the worst thing she could've possibly imagined. He felt the crotch of her panties which were completely soaked, even to her surprise. She didn't know how she could be turned on by someone literally hitting her, "No, you'll definitely enjoy it, Genevieve."

This is one-shot but if someone request another part (and gives me an idea of what they want to see) I could make a part two! If you want to read more of my work just check out my #masterlist !

#dark fic #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic #one direction fanfiction #bodyguard au #bodyguard harry #dark harry #writing #fanfiction

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seizethesam · 4 years

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Ode to an Angel-Chapter 7

A/N: Hello again! We are almost halfway there!! Chapter 7 here, I hope you will enjoy it! This is another experimental chapter for me! Ode to an Angel has been a way to experiment on my writing!! As always, the feedback is always appreciated! Love you! Happy reading!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: Non, I guess, maybe a little bit angst.

The recommended song is Ruby’s Arms by Tom Waits!!!!

Chapter 6

Then…

“Why did ya stop?” he asked.

It was the same question you’d kept asking yourself when you’d first joined the group. Eventually you had found the answer.

“What I’ve found turned out to be way more important than a revenge,” you spoke, turning your face to him.

He was watching the dark forest while chewing his tongue. He looked… beautiful under the moonlight.

You watched him for a while, put your head on his shoulder. He flinched at the sudden contact but eased into it after a while.

Then you held his hand.

Now…

Chapter 7

“Hey, you wanna see a very impressive craftsmanship,” you said smiling to the man who was loading wild pumpkins on the back of the truck.

You were in a field not so far away from the prison that Glenn and Rick had spotted a few days back. The area wasn’t a plantation, but just a dumpster people used throw in rotten vegetables.

“C’mon,” Daryl gestured you to start the show. His features lacked any hint of excitement.

You cut a little piece of branch from the pumpkin plant and showed Daryl the inside of the branch. “See, the inside is hollow,” you did all this so dramatically like it was a cheap workshop that a little faint smile appeared on the archer’s lips.

You cut a semicircle whole at the end of the piece. You looked around the field to see if there was any walkers- there was one fairly far away from you. Then you blew air into the little hallow piece of branch. A very annoying, not too loud, borazon like sound came out.

“Huh? It’s a whistle,” you concluded, very proud of yourself.

He scoffed; “S’ impressive.”

“I know,” you said, lifting one brow at him, playfully. “Matt used to do that when we were kids.”

He looked at you confused. You realized you’d never told him his name, “my brother,” you explained.

“It’s practical,” he nodded, “all my brother had taught me was how ta drink and pick locks,” he said.

All the time you’d spend with Daryl, he’d never mentioned he had a brother. Had. You wondered what more there was to discover about this extraordinary man.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

“S’ alright, he was an asshole,” he said, bending down to pick up another pumpkin. He turned body away from you. He was uncomfortable.

“Daryl,” you called him. He didn’t look at you. You wanted to tell him that it’s okay to open up, that it’s alright if he’s hurt or anything.

But you didn’t. he would talk to you when he wanted to talk to you. You decided on not pushing on it.

“Here, take this,” you said, instead, and offered him the handmade whistle, “in case you need me to save you. Just blow it,” you finished, giving him a smirk.

He scoffed at your sudden playfulness but took the whistle anyway and placed it in the pocket of his vest.

“I’ll keep it,” he muttered before he bent down to grab the large pumpkin.

Everyone was on edge.

The air in the car was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. No one said anything, no one looked at each other, no one made a noise, except for Michonne giving directions. She appeared outside the fences of the prison with baby formulas and clothes in her hand and a gunshot wound on one leg. No Maggie, no Glenn.

She had told you that “a young Asian guy and a pretty girl” had the baby stuff but they were taken by some men, men of someone who called himself the Governor. She’d said that they were living in a town called the Woodbury, about seventy-five survivors.

They wanted the prison Michonne had told you, your home. So, they took Maggie and Glenn hostages. But no, you weren’t going to give up on your home that easily.

The interrogation didn’t last long. You were on your way to the town when Michonne had told you that she would take you there. It wasn’t easy to trust her, but she was also your only chance at saving your friends.

So, you hit the road with Rick, Michonne, Oscar and Daryl.

You left the car near the woods and covered it safe with tree branches before continuing on foot.

Michonne had informed you about the lay out of the place, where this Governor usually is, about the fighters and the common people. But you still weren’t sure what to expect.

You were nervous, but still kept your head high and held the heavy machine gun tight in your hands.

You arrived at the breach that Michonne had told you about on the way here. Your eyes wondered around the place before stopping on Daryl. He looked back at you and gave you a reassuring nod.

You didn’t kill anyone before. But you weren’t going to hesitate on taking down the ones who had hurt your family in any way.

You were not losing anymore.

---

Michonne led your group into labyrinth of a place that was built out of metal scraps, telling you that the Governor could be keeping Glenn and Maggie in there for interrogation or— worse. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage so hard, wondering if you were too.

No, you weren’t. You were just in time, in fact.

Thankfully, the metal walls were badly structured as there were holes and gaps in between, so you got a good look at the other side.

You saw four men with guns, one with a blade for a hand actually, and two other people with sacks covering their heads; Glenn and Maggie.

They were alive. You let out your breath that you weren’t aware of holding.

Rick and the others were waiting close behind you. You pointed to the other side of the wall with your index and middle finger as you nodded to Rick to take action. With your signal, they threw the gas bomb to other side and you shot at the enemy for cover.

You escaped the place and took refuge in one of the town houses. Words that didn’t make sense to you escaped Glenn’s mouth, “Merle’s here,” he said.

Daryl’s head snapped to Glenn’s direction, “ya sure? S’ he the Governor?” he lined his questions.

“No, that’s some other guy,” Glenn answered as he put on a hoodie.

“Then, we gotta go for him, take him with us,” Daryl talked as he moved back and forth. Clearly, he knew this ‘Merle’ guy. He was in such an excitement to see him.

“Dude, he tried to kill us,” Glenn tried to reason with the archer. Merle didn’t seem like good news according to Glenn, but Daryl obviously cared about the guy.

But whatever it was, this wasn’t the time to argue. The town was slowly turning into a war zone.

“Guys, sorry to interrupt, but we have to leave,” you said, turning away from the window, “now.”

You gave Glenn the pistol you were keeping under your belt. Just as you were getting ready make the escape, Daryl spoke, “I can’t leave him here, man, he’s my brother.”

Now it made sense. He was blood.

Rick looked at Daryl before speaking, “Look, there’s a whole army out there. You gotta be there with us if we’re gonna make it out alive,” his voice was deep, “I need you, ya with me?

The archer weighed Rick’s words and nodded slowly.

You open the front door and let your friends get out of the house one by one. You were last one to exit the place and step into the fog of the gas bombs.

The glazing fire of the ricochets on the asphalt was illuminating the misty air that covered you. The sounds of guns shooting were filling the air. And until then, you’d never thought what a bliss of God it would be to be deaf.

You ran for your escapes shooting any obstacle that came on your way. You helped Glenn and Maggie up onto the bus to go over the wall, leaving Rick and Daryl close behind for cover. After Maggie, Oscar helped you up.

Everything happened so fast.

Oscar was pushing you up to the bus roof and the next thing he was lying dead on the floor. He was shot right through his chest. It wasn’t not a wound that even a big guy like him could handle.

It wasn’t long until Maggie put a bullet into his skull.

You found yourself shouting for Daryl and Rick to came back to you; Daryl didn’t. He disappeared in the foggy street of Woodbury.

Shit.

---

You put your rifle in your hands like if was now a part of your body. Not just a machine, but an extension of limbs.

What you saw before you was a perfect example of mania. The Governor was standing in the middle of an arena, talking out of his ass. Then came Daryl, and his long-lost brother, Merle.

The scenery was obscene; people were cheering for them to kill each other, red flames around the league was adding to the dreariness of the situation. Deadly. It was unbelievable how these people were thirsty for blood.

Your index finger was on its rightful place, pressing close to the trigger. You were waiting for Rick’s signal to shoot. You were going to kill some you didn’t know— to save the man with the angel wings. So, you shot. The man who stood behind Daryl. Headshot.

Through the binocular of the rifle, you saw Daryl flinch when the man fell on the ground with a whole in his face.

The first human you’ve ever killed.

Soon after, you shot at another one holding a walker. You shot the man on his collar bone, but he didn’t get up from the ground. Then you shot the walker.

Rick stepped into the arena to get the archer when you and Maggie were covering for him.

---

“No him, no me,” Daryl said with a low voice. What? You couldn’t help but frown at his words. He was really considering leaving. No, he wasn’t considering anymore, he was leaving.

“Daryl, you don’t have to do that,” Maggie spoke.

“It was always Merle and I before this,” he said. It was almost like he was trying to ration his decision to himself, putting out reasons to go with his brother.

You should’ve understood him. He didn’t want to leave his brother; he said he already did that once. You should’ve been able to let him go. Not over a year ago, you were doing the same, and your brother was dead.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let him go.

“Don’t,” it was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

“You would’ve done the same thing,” he said.

He started to walk towards the car to get his things.

You went after him while Glenn was sighing in defeat. Your steps were fast and soon after you were next to him.

“Wait!” you reached for his arm but failed. “Don’t go like this, Daryl.”

He didn’t say anything; he just kept walking like he wasn’t hearing you. You took two more big steps and stood in front of him and placed your hand on his chest to stop him. It was an involuntary movement, but it was enough to send him a step back.

A wave heat rushed through your ears. “You can’t leave like this. You can’t,” you jabbered, “we need you to be there when the Governor comes.”

You stopped to see what he was going to say, but he kept his silence. “I need you,” you finally said.

The second words left your mouth you tried to swallow them back in, but it was too late. And they were true. You needed him, more than you’d like to admit.

“I ain’t leavin’ him again, Y/N,” he told you. You heard the bitterness in his voice when he said your name. “Ya should understand.”

“It’s not the same,” and it wasn’t. You didn’t know Merle, but based on everyone’s view on him, including Daryl’s, the guy was, in fact, an asshole. Your brother, on the other hand, was dead, and nothing could stop you from going with him if he were to stand before you…alive.

That was when it clicked. You were being selfish. You cared about the archer more than you’d let on.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, afraid that you would break.

“I have ta,” he said, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t let the tears spill until he turned his back to you and vanished into the green woods with his brother.

Taglist:

A lark was singing a happy song in the sky when Daryl left.

Chapter 8

@spidergirla5 @twdeadfanfic @kamieshep @sophia-gwendolyn @jodiereedus22 @purplebtsmagic @302rocks @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth @crossbowking @bunnymother93 @ly--canthrope @mrsfortune1306 @pillowjj

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon icons #daryl dixon masterlist #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead

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anywhozits · 3 years

Text

All I Really Want Chapter 7

Rating: M

Pairing: Kristanna eventuallyyy

Verse: 90s High School AU / frozen retelling

Chapter Summary: Anna celebrates her 15th birthday.

Notes: Thank you for reading!!! Also there is some language, underage drinking, and homophobia in this chapter - be warned! (also tw emotional abuse)

Read on Ao3 here!

June twenty-fucking-first.

Another year. Fifteen, now.

And… Anna was excited, objectively, sure. At her very core, she felt excited because she knew she should be excited. But still, the very nature of this date always left her with a huge pit in her stomach.

There was just so much pressure. So much hope and want and desire for the love she craved to fill her first moments of fifteen.

Anna used to think she loved her birthday. The attention… the entire day naturally being about her—like, she knew she was supposed to enjoy it. She loved attention. She’d never deny that.

But…

In reality, her birthday stressed her out. There were all these expectations. Wanting people to acknowledge her, surprise her, and do all these special things to show they care. And yeah, this was probably way too much to ask on her 15th birthday but she wanted to feel … desired.

And yet she worried that wouldn’t happen this year.

Because her birthday was and had always been so full of disappointment.

Elsa forgot. Her parents forgot. Over the years one or two or all three of them forgot. They would ignore her the whole dumb day and then Anna would end up sobbing alone in her huge stupid room that had no reason to be so huge when it felt so lonely.

So far today, not one member of her family had acknowledged her. Her mother was definitely taking a nap or something. Who the hell knew where her dad was… and Elsa hadn’t called (yet, Anna thought, maybe too optimistically), but she was busy at this pre-college academic program at Pomona. So she had an okay excuse.

At least this year Anna got to spend her birthday with Hans. With Hans, maybe it’d be different. He already made the prom milestone so special that she had no doubt he’d do the same for her birthday.

No disappointments this year. Fingers crossed.

And how could she forget? She had Kristoff, too. And Kristoff never forgot. Kristoff always tried his best to make it special.

In fact, he’d already done something for her—he’d left her a card and a mixtape. This had to be her 37th Kristoff Bjorgman mixtape. And every new tape was better than the last.

He... well, um—that gesture alone made her feel desired.

She was officially on her third listen of the mixtape, and the sweet sweet tunes of Modest Mouse’s Dramamine filled her room.

In the past, he tended to include recordings of Pissed Off Kids, but Kristoff had made it extra special this time—the final song of the tape was instead a solo of Kristoff’s smooth tenor singing Better Man by Pearl Jam. Naturally he also hit all of the epic guitar riffs.

Anna loved it.

This lovely thought paired with the swelling sounds of Dramamine put her in a trance. Deep in her emotions, Anna swayed to the beat, instantly craving something more.

Traveling swallowing Dramamine

Look at your face like you're killed in a dream

She crawled on the floor and under her bed, pulling out a blue plastic box that housed her entire stash. The stash was once discovered by the family’s housekeeper, Anna (pronounced A-nuh not Ah-nuh), who subsequently revealed it to Agnarr and Iduna. Obviously, they did nothing about it. Duh. They gave zero shits. Zero. And it had devastated her, somehow. To not be yelled at or grounded… to not have her entire stash confiscated.

And you think you've figured out everything

I think I know my geography pretty damn well

Clearly, Anna had no reason to hide it anymore but leaving it out in the open took most of the fun away. So here it was back in the blue plastic box under her bed. Various bottles of alcohol, rolling paper, a pipe, a lighter, some weed, and an unopened bottle of Xanax with Iduna Larsen’s name on the label.

You say what you need so you'll get more

If you could just milk it for everything

Actually, come to think of it—Anna’s entire stash had been collected from her parent’s room.

I've said what I said, and you know what I mean

But I can't still focus on anything

Looking squarely at the box and its contents, Anna bit her lip. She needed this. And, why? Well, it was a combination of her baseline birthday nerves and the aftermath of the intense sob-fest she had when the oh-so-topical So Unsexy by Alanis Morrissette played on Kristoff’s mixtape. Oh, and of course the fact that her parents probably fucking forgot her birthday yet again… So, she took out the rolling paper and the Ziploc baggie that contained a few grams of weed.

Then, some weird crashing sound echoed from her window, which made her gasp and spook slightly.

Walking over to the window, drawing the curtains, and emerging onto her Juliet balcony, she noticed Hans and his goofy grin, standing in the driveway like he was a regular John Cusack.

When she saw that he had a bunch of tiny pebbles in his hand, it all made sense.

Anna’s heart fluttered. She loved it. She, like, literally loved it. So romantic.

“Can I come up?” He shouted, and Anna blushed. She was basically real-life Juliet at this point.

“Of course!” Anna called, and Hans started off in a sprint toward the rose trellis that led up the side of the house and into her window. “You don’t have to sneak in, you know!”

But he smiled devilishly and yelled, “I want to!”

Anna laughed and rolled her eyes at his definitely not-necessary efforts, but her stomach also did a few backflips. It was literally 500 times more romantic for him to climb up the trellis than it was for him to simply walk through the unlocked front door.

He pulled himself onto the balcony and Anna kissed him deeply. She couldn’t help but sigh—she was so, unbelievably happy to see him today.

“Happy birthday, babe,” he cooed in between kisses.

“Aww, thank you! I’m so happy you’re here.” After kissing a few more times, they ended up back in her bedroom where Kristoff’s singing now boomed through the room. Anna’s eyes fell to the blue plastic box—right. She had plans. “I was gonna do a little something to, uh, match the general vibe of this mixtape Kristoff made for me if you maybe wanted to join?” Anna gestured to the rolling paper and Ziploc bag.

Hans shook his head but then did a double-take. “Kristoff made you a mixtape?”

“Yep! He’s made me, like, tons of them.”

She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man.

“Who’s this? Pearl Jam or some shit?”

“Yeah, but not—"

“Damn, he really thinks he’s emo, huh?”

“—because it’s Kristoff who’s singing. Pearl Jam cover, yeah, but…”

She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man.

Hans laughed, heartily. “He’s pathetic.”

…huh?

“What?”

“You’re telling me he specifically chose this song to sing for you, recorded it, and then actually had the balls to give it to you?”

“Uh-huh.”

Another robust chuckle from Hans.

Anna furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s the big deal?”

“Are you even listening to these lyrics?”

“Um, yes, I—"

Hans laughed again. “You have no idea, do you?”

Anna pouted. She hated feeling naïve. Especially now that she was such a woman. Fifteen and a woman. Not naïve, not anywhere near naïve.

“No, I ... I know. Duh. I totally know what you’re talking about.” But she really didn’t. She had no idea what the hell he meant.

“So fucking pathetic,” Hans said, shaking his head. “But whatever. He’s not even a little bit threatening, is he?”

Threatening?

Oh.

Ohohohoh.

Hans thought… no way.

Kristoff wasn’t pathetic. He wasn’t pining after Anna or whatever. No duh he wasn’t. Absolutely no way.

They were just friends.

And, besides, Kristoff chose these songs because he knew Anna would like them. There was no connection between the themes or lyrics of the songs and how he felt about Anna. None at all… there couldn’t be a connection, because if there were, then… the whole sister thing was bullshit. But it wasn’t. No way in hell. Like, it couldn’t be.

Then why was Hans so convinced?

Before Anna could give this another thought, her bedroom door flew open.

She reflexively ran to the plastic box stash and kicked it back under her bed. For no real reason beyond wanting to keep some kind of classic-teenage air of mystery about herself.

Not that she had any earthly idea who the hell was coming barging into her room on this particular day at this particular hour.

But then when she saw the hint of blonde hair zooming past her and then engulfing her in a huge hug, she beamed. Elsa. Exactly who she wanted to come barging into her room.

“Anna!” She exclaimed as she hugged and hugged and hugged her sister. “Happy happy happy birthday! Fifteen—wow. I’m absolutely thrilled that I get to celebrate with you today.”

Anna didn’t want to pull away. So she didn’t. She held on tighter, savoring this moment she thought would never in a million years come to pass. “I’m really happy too, Els. I thought… weren’t you at school? How’d you even get here?”

“Mom and dad picked me up.”

“…really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why?”

“So I could be here for your birthday.”

“They should really just get you a car or something so they don’t have—” And then the pin dropped. “Wait, what?”

Anna finally pulled away from her sister and stared at her incredulously.

“Yeah—they picked me up so we could have a proper celebration.”

“But…wait. You’re saying…a proper celebration for… for my birthday? Our parents wanted to do this? For me?”

“At Hans’s insistence, actually.”

“Hans?” Anna’s eyes darted to her not-boyfriend. “You… did this?”

“Only took a couple phone calls with your parents, a few with Elsa. And then magic was made.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Of course I did, babe. I love you.”

Anna’s heart fluttered the most it had ever fluttered. It fluttered so much she honestly worried it might fly away out of her chest and off the balcony or something totally wild like that.

Hans was perfect. She was so lucky to have Hans. The perfect not-boyfriend who made her birthday okay again. More than okay, rather. Magical, wonderful. Perfect.

She didn’t even notice as Kristoff’s next selection, All Over You, started playing in the background.

And then the door swung open again and the two essential strangers she called parents walked in to also swarm Anna with massive hugs.

It felt… strange. Uncharacteristic. Almost like… almost like seeing a teacher at the movie theater, sitting down to watch the same movie you’re seeing with friends.

That level of weird.

But at the same time, it was a type of weird that Anna embraced more than anything else.

Because her parents were hugging her… they were acknowledging her.

They hadn’t forgotten her birthday.

“I rented us a Duffy boat for the afternoon,” Agnarr explained. “Kai set it all up for us—stocked with the best Cristal and naturally Anna’s favorite charcuterie board.”

“Ooh cured meats. A birthday delight.” Shit Anna had no idea how to interact with her parents anymore. Who even was this person—cured meats? Like yeah, she loved cured meats of course but damn this felt awkward.

“Actually, we should consider heading out soon. Don’t want to find ourselves on the blacklist at the Yacht Club, you know.”

That may sound like a joke but their close family friends actually did get blacklisted from the Yacht Club. Well, it had much more to do with some kind of scandalous drug and prostitute type situation than it did with being late, but… the fear was there.

“Should we bring your stereo?”

“Oh, yeah! Yes. Great idea. Kristoff actually made me a mixtape for my birthday, so—yeah. I’d love to have that along for the celebration too!”

They brought the speaker. They brought the Cristal and the charcuterie. Anna brought her now sunny and enthused birthday disposition.

Her family. And Hans. All together. Right now. On her birthday. Like, shit.

It felt like something out of her absolute favorite dream of all time.

And, yes, this whole Duffy boat thing was the most freaking Orange County plan of all time. But that meant her dad had to have planned ahead, since Duffy boats booked up ahead of time.

She felt so loved. So loved.

Once they arranged themselves in the boat, Anna turned on the stereo. So Unsexy played again, but Alanis didn’t get to her this time. Nobody had forgotten her birthday. She wasn’t alone. She felt, like, confident for once… damn. This was nice.

Hans moved to sit next to Agnarr, looking for a lesson about driving the boat, and Iduna sat close to the two of them, smiling. It was a Good Day. Anna could already tell.

“Aww, Alanis?” Elsa asked.

“Yeah!”

“Wouldn’t’ve expected Kristoff to put this on his mixtape.”

“Well, I mean, it’s because of you.”

“What? Really?

“Mmhmm. Because he, um, he knows how much Alanis means to you and because Alanis means so much to you she means so much to me. I really—”

“That’s so sweet.”

“You mean it?”

“Yeah.” Elsa leaned in to give her sister a huge hug. “I’m happy I get to spend more time with you.”

Anna relaxed into Elsa’s hold. She would thank the stars every day for this magnificent change. “Me, too.”

“Did you know the song You Oughta Know is about Uncle Joey?”

“Shut up. Really? For real?”

“For real for real.”

“No shit,” Anna laughed. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Yeah!” Hans chimed in. “No pull for Uncle Joey.”

“But, wow, yeah. Um,” Anna’s cheeks flushed red and she locked her eyes with Hans. “Guess he must’ve been pretty mind-blowing in bed.”

Hans winked at her and Anna all but shivered on the spot. Hold it together, Anna. Hold it together.

But Elsa entertained them zero, shaking her head. “He took advantage of her,” Elsa explained, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s fifteen years older than her. And they’d already broken up when she was 21, so who knows how old she was when they started…”

Anna bit her lip, worrying this was getting a little personal. Hans was only two years older than her, so. Different story, right?

Eh. Maybe not according to Elsa.

She needed to change the subject and impulsively blurted out, “I wanna get blackout. Right now.”

Elsa shook her head again. “Anna…”

“Yeah! I mean it! You too, right? You’ll do it with me? Let’s blackout on this Cristal. Yeah?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Oh, come on. Ms. Boring! I didn’t ask for your judgmental-as-shit opinion. Do you wanna blackout or do you wanna blackout?”

“Uh—neither?”

Anna pouted. “Boo. Boring.” She looked to Hans for more support, but he’d turned his attention back to Agnarr and the steering wheel.

“I’ll drink with you, but I don’t want to blackout. I wanna remember you turning 15.”

Anna chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh… yeah. Well, I guess I do too. Since it’s so great and all.”

“I’m not boring,” Elsa smirked.

“Prove it.”

Elsa grabbed the bottle of champagne and twisted the cap a little hesitantly but still enthusiastically. It made a loud popping sound and a little bit of the liquid spilled from the top, but both Anna and Elsa cheered when the champagne was deemed officially free.

Elsa poured them both tall glasses, and then she poured three more, remembering there were other people on this Duffy Boat and not just the two sisters.

All five raised their glasses.

To Anna. Who was now officially fifteen. Old enough to legally drink Cristal on a Duffy Boat, right? Totally.

And then Agnarr perked up, suddenly remembering his eldest daughter was also on this boat. “So, Elsa… can you tell me again why you chose Pomona over Harvard?” The way he said both school names made it more than clear how he felt about Elsa’s decision. Pomona sounded like he smelled the sweet stench of vomit infested garbage. In contrast, Harvard sounded like a choir of angels sang at the gates of heaven.

“I needed a change of pace.”

Agnarr laughed. A literally massive guffaw. “Harvard could’ve been a change of pace.”

“I don’t really—”

“But, at the end of the day, fine, you’re majoring in what—finance? Which means that your classes at this bullshit liberal arts doohickey will be miniscule. And you’ll get more time with the professors, get better letters of rec, and then end up at the Stanford GSB like your old man. That’ll really seal that fucking deal, you know? You’ll be in tip-top shape to take over The Company. Harvard or not.”

“I’m not gonna major in finance, dad.”

“Oh? So what’s the plan, then?”

“I don’t know. I like Anthropology, or maybe something like PoliSci?”

“Politics? Really?”

“Yeah,” Elsa said, her jaw clenched. “I’d love to clean up some of the damage you’ve done to this country.”

A tense silence filled the air. Elsa crossed her arms over her chest and took a nice long sip of champagne.

Until Iduna piped up, “Well, if you want my opinion—”

“I don—" Elsa started.

“—a pretty young thing like you can’t work around Bill right now.”

Agnarr guffawed again. Profoundly. He raised his glass and cheered, “Oh ho ho!” Like he won some kind of stupid battle he wasn’t even in.

Anna was utterly lost. She’d already downed one whole glass of Cristal and poured herself an entire new one without anybody noticing. Hah. Classic.

She didn’t really want to admit she was, like, this stupid or politically unaware or whatever but she also wanted to feel like part of the conversation, so she said, “Wait, what? Has something happened?”

Hans gave Anna the benefit of the doubt. “Nah, but he’s known for being a pussy hound.”

“Okay! Enough! That’s not why I said I wanted to major in PoliSci. We don’t need to get into—"

“No, no, no. This is important, Elsa. You better watch out,” Agnarr said, ignoring her plea entirely. “Listen, I don’t know how a man like Bill gets it up for a woman like Hillary. She looks like such a dyke. Not that I respect the bastard that much, but he could have any broad he wants. Any broad like you.”

“No—” Elsa raised her voice, but Iduna chuckled.

“Since she’s got my cheekbones!”

Elsa’s entire face had turned a cherry red. She was mad. Fuming, really. “—you can’t say that.”

“I can say whatever the hell I want.”

“You can’t say that,” she repeated.

“Why not? You think you’re some holier-than-thou judge of character?”

Elsa’s jaw was still insatiably clenched. “I want to go home.”

“Els?” Anna reached out her hand to touch Elsa’s shoulder in a way she hoped brought at least a marginal amount of comfort.

“Seriously,” Elsa begged, her eyes glistening with what looked like fresh tears. “Can we turn this boat around? Please?”

A lump formed in Anna’s throat and she swallowed it down. She didn’t want today to end like this, so she tried to redirect. “Um… but—we’re having fun, aren’t we? You… how about we drink more champagne?”

Anna knew Elsa was mad. She knew that their parents had upset her beyond belief, but this was the only time she’d spent with all of them in the same place in… literally forever. She didn’t want it to end prematurely. No matter how mad Elsa was. Besides, Anna had been there, too. She’d been on the receiving end of comments like that countless times.

It stung, sure. But it wasn’t unexpected. That was just what happened when you spent time with Agnarr and Iduna. They were like parasites.

But the kind of parasite Anna still yearned to have in her life… if that made any sense at all?

Thankfully Elsa seemed to snap out of it a bit and turned back to Anna. “I’m sorry, yeah. You’re right. I…” She added in a whisper, “I shouldn’t let them get to me.”

“Yeah—no. Never!” Anna beamed. Crisis averted. “Drink more!”

Elsa took one big gulp of the champagne. “Maybe now’s as good a time as any. Um… I have something for you.”

“Oooh for me?!” Anna squealed when Elsa pulled out an envelope from her back pocket.

“Open it.”

It was the cutest handmade card ever. What Anna recognized instantly as something they would exchange as kids. Classic white printer paper, cut out into the shape of an A. And inside was the sweetest note of all time. Not long. Never long. Elsa wasn’t the most feelings-y. Or not so much that she wasn’t feelings-y, but she didn’t really have a knack for expressing all of the feelings that brewed deep inside her soul.

Inside this note of absolutely wonderfully sweet words was the fact that Elsa had decided to get her the most fun gift of all time—a night at the local roller rink. A disco roller rink night, too, which sounded five hundred million times more fun than any old roller rink night.

So, Anna squealed again. “Oh my God! Elsa! This sounds so, so, so fun! I’m so excited I can’t wait I’m, like, literally the most excited ever for real I’m, like, oh snap I’m rambling but that just means you know how excited I am!”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it? I love it!”

“You can choose whenever you want to go. I can find a way to get here.”

“Okay! I can’t wait!”

Anna had always considered herself forever an experience over a material present person. And an experience present from Elsa of all people only made it all the more special. Quality time with her sister. Shit, she was so excited.

Honestly, ‘so excited’ hardly began to cover it. Anna was ecstatic. Absolutely ecstatic.

It felt almost like… everything was going perfectly. Kristoff’s music played in the background. Hans and her dad had started laughing and carrying on what seemed like meaningful conversation… Iduna was smiling to herself as she usually did on a Good Day. And here Elsa and Anna were. Together. For the first time in forever.

“I’m so happy!” Anna yelled this loud enough that everybody snapped to attention, expecting a speech or something of the like. “This has to be the best birthday I’ve ever had in my whole life. I… thank you for not forgetting. I know—that’s happened before, but—"

Iduna clicked her tongue. “What are you talking about? We’ve never forgotten your birthday. We’re your parents.”

…what?

Was Anna wrong? Had she made it up? She thought she remembered several birthdays in a row her parents had forgotten… since… probably since Elsa had been shipped off to boarding school. It happened at least every other year.

But.

Her mother seemed to think differently. And Anna knew she could be a bit dramatic sometimes.

So…

Maybe that was all a load of BS and Anna was actually absolutely bonkers.

Shit.

“Anna, dear, your mother’s right. We’d never forget your birthday,” Agnarr explained.

Okay, yeah. All right. So then she was literally bonkers. Batshit crazy. Living in some kind of crazy dream world?

“Okay,” was all Anna said, in a tiny voice. She didn’t know what to think.

Except that maybe she really was crazy after all.

But she tried to push that aside. Something to unpack a bit more later.

She needed to enjoy this moment.

And due to this decision, from that point on, the Duffy boat ride went smoothly. They drank their champagne. They finished a few bottles. More than any of them would care to admit, especially because Agnarr and Iduna served the alcohol to minors and whatever. But regardless, they had a great time. In the end.

Sure, Elsa refused to speak to their parents, but thankfully she was never put on the spot again so that really didn’t put a damper on anything.

Hans kept Agnarr company, Iduna kept to herself, and Anna and Elsa spent the entire time talking each other’s ear off about literally everything.

Anna made sure to include all of the dirty details of her own life. Her chest puffed out when she talked about Hans and everything they’d done to celebrate their not-relationship that Anna still continued to make Elsa believe was a real relationship.

But eventually, it came to an end.

The end of an era. The end of this somewhat happy family dynamic Anna wanted to have 100% of the time.

Agnarr and Iduna hugged the girls goodbye. They were getting dinner with some friends and had to dash.

Which left Elsa, Anna, and Hans to fend for themselves.

Anna was a little bit disappointed that her parents had left them alone, but after what she considered such a great afternoon, she didn’t want to dwell on it.

Focus on the positives, Anna! Keep those in mind!

So, she turned to Hans. The orchestrator. The one who made it all happen.

“Oooh, Hans!” Anna jumped up to give him a peck on the lips. “That was awesomesauce! Like, hands down the best birthday—I totally, totally loved it, thank you!”

“Hold that thought, babe,” he smiled, snaking one hand around her waist and using the other to cup her chin. “I’ve still got one more thing planned.”

“Really, really? You do?”

“To the beach house!”

Anna giggled. She loved him. She now officially loved her birthday. She couldn’t wait.

#OOPS FORGOT TO POST ON TUMBLR #frozen #fanfic #fanfiction #kristanna #hansanna #Elsa #90sau

9 notes · View notes

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {2}

Summary: Ethan wakes up to a whole new set of challenges with his soulmate, but he had no idea just how deep the trouble she would get into would be. With a medieval infection in the hospital, Ethan only thinks of her.

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, swearing, medical descriptions of things some might find nauseating, infectious disease

Word count: 5.3k

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist

A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are.

I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!

If you want to be tagged for future parts, reply down below.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pistanthrophobia - fear of trusting others

Waking up alone is the last thing Ethan expected, but to wake up alone and nearly five hours later was definitely unbelievable. Not a single page? Not one of his interns fucked up so badly that they paged him thousands of times? Maybe he misjudged this generation after all?

"Nah", Ethan mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he pulled himself up to sit. Rubbing his cheeks, he tried to stop himself from smiling, to stop the warm feeling in his chest where she laid atop him but he couldn't. Even if she left before he had woke, Ethan was happy with their progress, although leaving him in bed alone seemed to have become her memo.

Dragging himself out to get a cup of coffee during this tireless double shift, Ethan wondered if she'd be waiting for him close by or if she was feeling better after losing her first patient, but he found himself disappointed when he couldn't find a single trace of her. His phone vibrated and even if he wanted anything but to pick up the call, the only person he knew was persistent enough to wait for the last ring was his brother and he always picked up Grayson's calls.

"What do you want?" Ethan grumbled, slipping a few coins into the vending machine for that cup of coffee he was dying for, not in the mood to speak but he thought it might be important.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Grayson chuckled, waiting to hear his brother groan or growl on the other line and he didn't have to wait for long.

"Just wondering if you misplaced something? Or someone?" Grayson teased as if he didn't know his brother isn't a morning person and he was definitely not in the mood for games.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan frowned, grabbing his cup eagerly as it fills up.

"Just heard one of your interns ask for a transfer and they told her no, but she seemed adamant that the cardio resident she's assigned to isn't right for her education here." Grayson licked his lips, aware he's pulling at the right strings because even if he never saw the elusive Y/N, he felt like her description matched the girl Ethan told him about a year ago, his instincts screamed it was her, and he was quite unhappy with his brother's lack of sharing for he would have expected at least a text from Ethan about his soulmate being his intern.

"What was her name? Did you hear that?" Ethan cleared his throat, pursing his lips nervously because he really fucking hoped the progress he thought he made wasn't just erased. Did he scare her off?

"Y/N Y/L/N. Your soulmate?" Grayson clarified and Ethan leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. He managed to fuck it up, he just didn't know how.

"Did she see you?" Ethan asked, gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip, annoyed with himself because it seems as if every step he takes toward her, she takes two back.

"Nope, but I did tell the nurse I'll take your interns over for the day. They should see the miracle of life before they see death. Thank me later." Ending the conversation, Grayson moved to meet the interns at the changing rooms, eager to meet the little Miss who drove his brother up the wall. In a way, Grayson was fascinated by this woman who seems to disappear like a ghost every time Ethan was near and he didn't understand why she was fighting this unmovable force of nature.

"So, uh, I heard you killed a guy on your first day." Cocky intern leaned into Y/N who was just trying to tie her shoes and get on with the day. Escaping Ethan's arms wasn't easy, especially when he seems to have a death grip in his sleep. But she had to go, to leave and find a way to switch mentors before she fell for him, the guy who clearly wasn't falling for her.

"I'm Brett and I like girls who get their hands dirty." His cheshire grin made her sick to her stomach because as attractive as he is with his pale blue eyes and blonde hair, she had absolutely nothing but disgust for him.

"Leave her alone, asshole. She doesn't care who you are." The only other female intern spoke up and Y/N chuckled lowly, nodding in agreement.

"I'm Alex." The blonde settled beside her, shooing Brett away with her hand until he rolled his eyes and left to get dressed.

"Y/N. Thanks for getting rid of the fleas." Y/N leaned back on the wall as Alex laughed and Brett turned back just to make an annoyed grimace at the two.

"So, how was the boss yesterday? Was it easy working with a hot genius like him? Did you have sex in the on call room?" Alex whisper shouted in excitement and Y/N's face fell, realizing Alex won't be the friend she hoped she would be a moment ago. She just wanted gossip.

"He's a talented surgeon and a good teacher. As for the rest, this isn't Grey's anatomy, on call rooms are for rest not sex." But before she has a chance to get up, someone walks in - authoritative and eager; way too eager with his pink scrubs.

"Good morning. My name is Grayson Dolan and I am to be your boss man for the day." The moment Y/N looked at him, her heart stopped. There are too many similarities between Grayson and Ethan and she was realizing one irrefutable fact.

"There's two of you?!" The words escaped her and she slapped a hand over her mouth as quickly as possible, just not fast enough to stop herself from becoming an embarrassment.

The left corner of Grayson's lips curled up, forming a smirk as he turned his attention to Y/N, taking a good look of what destiny had chosen for his twin and he knew she was trouble even without Ethan's complaints about his torn up heart. She looked like she was made for heartbreak but also the loveliest nights.

"My brother and I may wear the same face but there are very few similarities between us which I'm sure you will learn in time." Grayson winked, before turning his eyes to the rest of the room. "You all will. After all, we will be seeing each other weekly from now on. One of you will be mine for a week until you have your OBGYN hours filled."

Swallowing thickly, Y/N looked away nervously as she fidgeted with her stethoscope. She felt warm, as if her body forgot to regulate her temperature and she could hardly breathe.

'Did it get hot in here? Or is this guy's sunshine personality setting every room aflame?' She wondered silently, thinking how as awkward as it was around Ethan, at least he didn't force conversations and he didn't seem like the overly curious type that pries into people's lives as Grayson does. He looks like the kind of a person people go to in order to feel better, for his warmth and cheerfulness to transfer onto them - he was the definition of sunshine, a cure for dark and depressing people and Y/N was certainly one of them. But she didn't want a cure and she didn't want him to meddle. For the first time ever, Y/N wanted to spend time with Ethan, in the comfort he gave because he didn't force happy onto her and she felt safe in feeling what she feels, knowing she didn't have to adjust, to change. It was the first time she hoped for Ethan, but it wouldn't be the last time.

And lucky for her, he showed up right on time, just as she started losing her shit.

Fingers snapped in front of her face and Y/N gasped, blinking fast as her eyes refocused on identical twins that stood before her. "Hey! Are you listening to any of this?" Grayson questioned with a slight smile, genuinely entertained by her and her dreamer personality because he was sure it would both annoy and compliment Ethan's personality. Ethan is a dreamer too, but never at work and that would surely be a challenge for the pair.

"Um. Missed the few last minutes. Probably should get a cup of coffee." She raised her eyebrows, trying to seem convincing because she didn't want to be unprofessional but she also didn't want to piss off two of her teachers.

"Well, let me sum it up. You're in the pit today, page me if you find any pregnant women in need of a consult or any cardio patients. That's when you -" Stopping him mid-sentence, Ethan jumped in. "That's when you page me."

With a nod, Y/N pressed her lips together and pushed her hands into the front pockets of her lab coat, hoping they would just stop staring at her so intently, as if they're expecting something of her and she can't understand what that is.

"Got it."

She rushed out of there faster than humanly possible, needing room to breathe because for whatever reason, the Dolan twins made it impossible to draw in a proper breath during that short interaction.

Expecting insanity in the ER, she had managed to eat a granola bar before heading into a rather calm emergency room. Using the chance, she introduced herself to the staff, learned the proper numbering of beds and trauma rooms and a few hours in, she finally got a proper case.

"I'm doctor Y/L/N." She smiled, gathering information from the patient while doing a checkup.

"So you're an exterminator?" She kept her voice airy, her tone pleasant as she noted the man has a fewer, complains of chills, muscle aches, diarrhea, cough and fatigue.

'Likely the flu', she presumed.

"For the last thirty years. Used to be a banker, a painter and a writer in my three hundred years." Hearing that sparked jealousy in her heart. She shouldn't be jealous about other people managing to do all they wanted to in their long lives, but she was. She had plans of her own and they seem unlikely with her current soulmate situation.

"Sounds like quite an adventurous life." She smiled, checking for swollen lymph nodes. Finding quite swollen, tender but firm lymph nodes, Y/N frowned, cold sweat forming at the back of her neck as the man coughed. Managing to turn her head to the side, she grasped for a facemask and placed it for protection as she prayed. Caution is always better than reckless endangerment.

'Surely it can't be...'

"Is everything alright?" The man questioned, startled by the sudden change in her stance and the odd look in her eye.

"Can you please take your socks off?" She asked, hoping it won't be what she thinks it is because that would be just her luck.

However, the moment this man took his socks off, he took a few fingers off in the process and no matter how many times she had read about gangrene, she still wasn't prepared to see it up close and personal. The foul smell of rotting flesh made her stomach turn and she struggled to keep her composure. You're supposed to be calm and collected but they don't really prepare you for this in med school.

"Oh, God!" She exclaimed, looking around wildly to figure out what to do.

"Stay calm, sir!" She told him but she seemed more upset than he did. As if he knew it was in such a state, as if he had come in for the gangrene in the first place - the 'by the way' syndrome at its best.

With shaky hands, mask in place, she stumbled to the nurse's station and lowered her voice, careful not to touch anything or anyone.

"I have strong suspicion that we have a case of the Black Death...the pulmonary type, and I've been exposed. Make sure all the patients are isolated just in case and then make sure so am I. I'll take samples for the lab, send them as emergent testing, I'll write a CITO order. And disinfect every inch of this floor." Y/N ordered, her voice shaky as she set herself back to see the patient again, preparing to take samples to confirm her diagnosis. She hoped to God she managed to get that mask on in time, swearing under her breath for being reckless and assuming it's the flu and that she'd be fine. She finally got her immune system up, she finally got her vaccines and she got cocky, thinking she's untouchable and now while everyone else is delivering babies or having once in a lifetime surgeries, she'll be in isolation because she got a patient with a medieval diagnosis. Just her luck.

And while Y/N was being quarantined along with the three patients who had the misfortune of being in at the same time and one nurse that admitted the patient, the entire ER closing for disinfection, Ethan and Grayson were drinking coffee in peace.

"She's definitely a piece of work." Grayson chuckled lowly, raising the cup to his lips casually as if Ethan wasn't snorting at his statement, aware of that fact even without his brother pointing it out.

"Young too. She's a baby surgeon, Ethan." Grayson deadpanned, taking a sip before putting his cup down. Curling his fingers around the cup, he scrunched the plastic cup easily, something he did with every plastic cup he drank from.

"Is there a reason why you're stating all known facts?" Ethan sassed back, sarcastic undertones very clear and matching his annoyed face. While Grayson sat back relaxed, Ethan tapped his fingers on the desk continuously, telling just how difficult Ethan finds the situation at hand. He wanted to know this girl so badly but she didn't seem to share that want. How do you love someone who doesn’t want to be loved?

"Yeah. I'm tryna’ help you bro. She's young, meaning she didn't have a hundred years like you to do her thing first. She didn't have time to be her before being your soulmate. Besides, did you even tell her you're her soulmate? Does she even know it's you? Because if you're not ready to risk your pride and heart for her, why are you expecting it from her?" Grayson raised an eyebrow, waiting for Ethan to open his mouth and say something right, something that would lead him on the path toward her and just as his lips part and the lost look in his eyes fades, Alex, the intern he barely remembered by anything except her being the only other woman with a fancy stethoscope, walked in with news he never wanted to hear.

"Y/N, I mean one of your interns is in quarantine!" She screamed more than spoke, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

"What the fuck do you mean by quarantine?!" Ethan jumped to his feet in an instant, feeling as if a bucket of ice cold water fell on his head and he had never been as wide awake as he is now.

"It's the black death."

Autophobia - fear of being alone

Loneliness had never bothered her before. Accustomed to the lone wolf kind of a life, Y/N had started questioning the unsettling feeling in her chest. After all the time she had spent on her own, she was scared by the coldness inside her that lived within ever since she snuck out of Grant’s apartment where she had left her underwear along with her virginity. That feeling of coldness was gone since he had appeared in her life again and now when she found herself isolated, alone again, she felt the cold grasp at her insides once more and for the first time in her life, Y/N wasn’t prepared to be alone again.

“Hey there. Feeling good?” She didn’t meant to smile when she heard the sound of his voice nor did she mean to let her eyes light up with the sight of his pretty brown eyes on the other side of the glass. She hadn’t expected her heart to jump inside her chest nor did she expect her cheeks to flush considering she’s wearing just a hospital gown and while she managed to hide her ass, she still felt exposed, indecent.

“Yeah. Already started myself on antibiotics before the CDC came in.” She shrugged slightly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she approached the glass slowly, wondering if he’d be proud of her for managing to handle the situation so well. Or as well as it was possible in the moment. She didn’t expect Ethan to be anything but.

“Great!” He exclaimed with a smile that quickly turned sour and her own smile fell, the light in her eyes fading as he started yelling. “NOW I GET TO SCREAM AT YOU FOR BEING SO RECKLESS!”

Pacing left and right, he managed to keep his eyes on her, his hands shaking as he questioned her.

“I’m not sure what the hell you were thinking going to talk to a patient with a flu without a mask or why you were even seeing a flu patient when you’re a surgical intern! Now I’m down an intern and when we said some of you won’t make it till the end of the training, we didn’t mean you should go and recklessly handle patients until you catch a deadly infectious disease!” Throat hoarse, aware of the wandering nurses’ eyes that held judgement and the slightest bit of entertainment, Ethan stopped to take a deep breath and at least try to stop the never ending pounding of his heart and maybe it’s wrong of him to yell at her when she’s in a stressful situation of her own, but she is his soulmate and he barely had the chance to love her and he is scared to death he never will. So yes, he is angry and he is struggling to understand her and the dustiest parts of her soul but it’s beyond him. She’s beyond everything and everyone he has ever met.

“Reckless?” She snorted, folding her arms across her chest, shifting her weight onto her left foot before she too had something to say and while she wasn’t necessarily shouting, she wasn’t quiet either.

“I had my flu shot so I though approaching the flu patient without a mask might be less frightening for the poor man. Also, there was no one else in the ER to see the patient but me! Was I supposed to prolong his suffering when I’m perfectly capable of doing a physical myself? I did what any doctor would and more considering I made a rather remarkably rare diagnosis so quickly that I prevented that man from getting the rest of the hospital staff exposed! You should be proud of me, not pissed off!” Eyebrows knitted together, her eyes narrowed at him and lips pressed together, Y/N stood her ground, refusing to apologize for what she did because she didn’t think she made a mistake. Sure, the mask was a miss, but she would learn from her mistakes…if she gets the chance.

“You page me if she gets symptoms!” Ethan didn’t even spare Y/N a glance as he ordered the nurse and left her alone in that glass room that felt like a prison. He just stormed out, like a man with a paper sword that couldn’t handle losing an argument. For a girl who was all too used to hospitals, she wasn’t quite prepared to go through yet another period of time in a hospital bed.

“Do you need anything else, sweetie”, the nurse asked her, handing her a thoroughly cleaned stuffed animal to hold, her favorite one. A girl of mere ten years facing such a monstrous disease that grew within? It made the nurses cry after every shift. All the kids in the department did, as rare as it was.

“Are my parents coming?” Y/N asked quietly, her voice hoarse. Anyone’s voice would be hoarse after throwing up for five days straight, unable to keep anything down.

“I’m sorry baby, not this week.” The look of pity on the nurse’s face was what Y/N hated the most. She hated being treated like a baby, like a delicate little porcelain doll that couldn’t handle the world. She had faced more in her short life than those who chased immortality. She was very aware of the toxic relationship her parents shared and how they prioritized each other over her. She had learned to accept that.

“That’s fine. At least I have Mr. Cuddles.”

Y/N wished she had Mr. Cuddles now, to just have something or someone to hold. She wished she could relieve the sadness and the annoying sense of abandonment Ethan’s abrupt leaving left her with. She wanted him to stay a while longer for he made her feel lighter without even trying and she hated him for being an ass to her and even more so when he didn’t visit her for the next two days.

Thantophobia – phobia of losing someone you love

However, she didn’t know he was there whenever she was asleep, watching her with a worrisome heart and a tired mind. He knew she was a little troublesome, but he didn’t know she would make that tiny streak of silver hair turn into a full set of grey hair. It’s what he’d be facing in less than a year if her behavior continues as it is.

What he didn’t expect is for her to open her eyes in the middle of the night, finding him on a chair with his head resting on his numb propped up hand. She rolled her eyes at him instantly, pushing herself up with some difficulty before detaching her own IV.

“Scared I’ll die?” She asked groggily, taking a sip of her water to soothe her dry throat. She was definitely starting to feel ill, hating how her body turned weaker and weaker as it did when she was on her treatments. She didn’t want to go back to being the poor girl who sat alone in her room with no family to see her. Making friends with other patients was easy, but they could never touch, never risk getting each other sick. They were social distancing by sitting on opposite beds or coming to each other’s rooms and sitting on a chair by the door when one was too sick to get out of bed. But she didn’t have any patients to make friends with now.

“Yeah. But not from the plague.” Ethan huffed, swallowing before speaking. “Your tests are still being done, will probably be negative but you do have strep, so we’ll have to treat that unless you want to be on my table in about thirty years with faulty heart valves.” Standing, Ethan nodded to the penicillin she had inside her room, hinting it’s better she takes it on her own, although he didn’t mind getting into a hazmat suit if it meant seeing her ass again.

“Great. So if I do have it, I’ll be dealing with two diseases at once. Nice. Nice luck I got here.” Sarcasm dripping with every word she formed, Y/N grabbed the prepared medicine and groaned. She hated getting shots, even more so penicillin ones because they always hurt like a bitch. However, she had a fairly high pain tolerance after everything she’s been through. The nurses used to say when she complained of pain, they immediately called doctors to check up on her because her six was usually a ten on other kids’ pain scale.

Palping, she found the site she’s supposed to stick a needle in. Closing her eyes as she shakes her head, Y/N let out a dry chuckle at the ridiculous situation but she was ready to do it anyway. She didn’t care about Ethan being there, he couldn’t see her ass from where she was standing, but he could see her face. So, she took great care not to make a face when the needle pierced her skin nor when the penicillin started burning, her entire leg feeling like it would give out. Slowly, she injected the medicine, breathing a little shallow but she was proud of herself for remaining calm and collected, even with Ethan there.

“Wow. Actually did it. Impressive, rookie.” Ethan teased, his arms crossed and his face smug. Y/N didn’t like that. “I was sure you’d tap out in the last second. I’m actually surprised you weren’t late giving yourself the medicine like you were on your first day!”

But she wasn’t in the mood for jokes and he missed that.

“Un-fucking-believable! Now?! You want to keep taunting me now? I have no words!” She screamed at him, her hands up in the air in frustration as her nostrils flare and her eyes widen with a new thought. “Oh! Wait! I’m thinking of some! Jerk! Ass! Arrogant! Man-child!” Her throat felt raw and her face hot, but she was ready to fight even if her legs did shake in his presence…or was it her rage? Maybe the infection? She couldn’t tell anymore, especially when he raised his index finger and his face was overtaken with a wide smile and a chuckle followed soon.

“Hold up! Man-child?”

“YES! A fucking man-child!” She repeated herself and that’s when his smile faded and he remembered he’s supposed to be her mentor and this is supposed to be his hospital. Soulmate or not, he couldn’t tolerate this behavior.

“I’d caution you to watch what you say to your boss. You better shut your mouth if the next words coming from you don’t include an apology.” Ethan warned, his hands folded before him and he was no longer Grant as she saw him as most of the time. This was doctor Ethan Dolan, the man she was sure would make her life miserable and while she wanted to keep yelling at him, she couldn’t.

It wasn’t because she had a moment of clarity or because she thought kissing his ass would get her somewhere, figuratively not literally as she had already done that and she knew he had a pineapple on it. No, she felt something different, something she read about but never saw let alone felt. Her throat started closing up and her lungs burned for oxygen she couldn’t provide no matter how hard she tried.

Holding her throat, her eyes wide and bulging, Y/N fell to her knees, unable to hear Ethan who screamed for the nurses from the ringing in her ears that made her deaf to the world. Her face swelled up, her eyes closing and she could no longer see or hear, only feel and she felt herself slipping, falling to the ground, desperately heaving for some air.

Ethan couldn’t wait, couldn’t follow protocol and get himself in a hazmat suit before panic opening the room with his key-card, grabbing the emergency kit as he entered, collapsing on his knees beside her, an adrenaline shot in hand. Administering the adrenaline, bronchodilators, corticosteroids, antihistamines and an oxygen mask, Ethan finally felt like there might be hope as the swelling started to go down and he could hear her breathe again. He had her back on the bed, second line of medication set to drip in her IV.

Shaking uncontrollably, he had stared at every movement her chest made and listened intently to every intake of breath she had made, terrified his worst fear might still come true and he might lose her, rendering him alone for the rest of his life. Sure, Grayson would be insulted with these thoughts of his, but having a soulmate as you age is what life is supposed to be about, not a twin who’d make remarks about every line he gets on his face or how saggy his balls must be getting. She was what his whole life has come down to and hundred more years couldn’t counter the happiness he got to experience in a single night with her. That would never change.

Hours passed and he finally relaxed, not enough to sleep but enough to sit down and breathe.

Exhaling loudly, Ethan looked around for a chair or something to brave the night in, aware he’s now stuck in the room with her for as long as it takes for the tests of her swabs return which would likely take a few more hours at this point. He didn’t regret his actions and he understood why she defended her own so fiercely earlier. It was funny how he understood her soon after every fight they have and they had quite a few squabbles in this double shift – the first of many. She has a breathtaking, wildfire heart and he absolutely loved her for it. He had infinite tenderness for her. He always will. As long as he lives.

“If you get the plague and die, I will kill you.” Grayson threatened from the other side of the glass, his own fear of losing Ethan showing in his deep brown orbs, even more so in the frown he couldn’t hide. And Grayson Dolan was many things, but not a man who frowns easily.

“You can’t make me feel guilty over something I don’t regret.” Ethan shrugged, pressing his lips together before closing the distance between them. The glass stood as a barrier, one that would keep Grayson safe in case Ethan does catch a deadly illness but he had faith it would turn out to be nothing.

“I know. I’d have done the same.” Grayson shrugs sadly, a small smile gracing his lips as he looks over Ethan’s shoulder to see Y/N. “How is she?” He too cared for the girl, too quickly but he did. He saw her as a sister, someone to protect. He saw her as an extension of his brother’s soul.

“Good for now. The allergic reaction stopped but we have her on some meds to make sure it doesn’t enter into the late stage. As for her strep infection, I’ve got her on other meds that won’t kill her so that should be fine too. I expect her to be fully capable of chewing me out in the morning.” Ethan chuckled lowly, turning around to make sure she’s still asleep and while he had no intention on telling her about them just yet, he couldn’t stay away from her. Not ever.

“Why? Did you tell her you’re her soulmate?” Grayson clasped his hands in excitement and he reminded Ethan more of a high school cheerleader than doctor with more than a hundred years of experience under his belt. He loved how positive Grayson is, but he needed to keep his voice down when he’s spilling state secrets, especially when the subject at hand is only a few meters away.

“SHHH!” Ethan whisper-shouted, wishing he was on the other side of the glass to smack his brother over the head and teach him a lesson.

“She doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling her. She’ll figure it out herself and until then, I want her to know me without the pressure of having a soulmate bond. Bro, I just want her to see we’re made for one another and not run from me every chance she gets.” Ethan rubbed his forehead in frustration, glancing over his shoulder at her stirring figure, unaware she managed to catch a few words the two have spoken about her and while she may be under the influence of more than one drug at the moment, she knew it was important to remember that Ethan and Grayson have both muttered the words she feared most of all – soulmate.

However, moments later for her, minutes for Ethan, she felt a knuckle against her cheek, gently dragging along her skin before the warmth of touch disappeared and she decided she wanted it to last longer, her hand moving on instinct, grasping Ethan’s.

Smiling in the darkness, Ethan settled beside her in a chair, his hand holding hers for dear life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @heyits-claire @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes @iwastornsincethestart @graydolan12 @fxkthatdairy @zeusgrayson @libradolan @justordinaryjen @pineappledolan @graysavant @voguekristens @imayoutubere @livexdolan

(some of you couldn’t be tagged for some reason, probably Tumblr’s fault)

#dolan twins #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan doctor soulmate au #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson dolan

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sunshinesholland · 4 years

Text

the one (and all the others) [2] | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 5.35k

Warnings: swearing, angst/pining, allusion to abusive past relationships, PTSD mention

Summary: It’s possible Tom would have outgrown the crush, but after one night where feelings were confessed and tears were shed, everything changed. And the worst of it all is that the two of you don’t talk about it, or even acknowledge that it happened. But that’s how it always goes right? It’s good until it’s not.

A/N: This part is a flashback to the night Tom alludes to in part one (see summary above). This is just some exposition to explain their relationship and past. I also just want to say a huge thank you for such a great reaction to my writing so far. It’s something I used to be so passionate about and it feels lovely to get back into it :) Let me know your thoughts, or if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

part one || part two || part three

eighteen months ago

Tom and you are sat on the couch, tangled up in your favorite blanket with Iron Man 2 playing in the background. Zendaya is away on a family trip, so naturally you and Tom are spending the whole weekend watching your favorite movies and eating lots of takeout. It’s not too different from your usual time spent together, but it’s always nice to not feel like you’re bugging her. You’re about tell him the things you’ve learned in your psychology class this week, but instead he’s trying to get you to thumb wrestle him, determined to win.

“Okay, you know what? You’re the one who wanted to watch this movie! The second one isn’t even my favorite and now you’re thumb wrestling me instead of even watching it,” you say exasperated, though the grin on your face shows you’re enjoying your time together all the same.

“Well, you’re the one that wanted to talk instead of watch so technically this is all your fault. I just want something to do while you tell me about… about, uh,” he pauses, long enough for you to tuck his thumb under yours.

“About arousal theory,” you finish, knowing he won’t remember what you’ve been trying to tell him the past five minutes.

“Oh, now all of a sudden I’m interested, continue,” he grins at you, putting his hand under his chin to (dramatically) show he’s averted his full attention to you.

“If you were paying attention, you would know that’s not at all what that means, Tommy,” you laugh, and face away from him to watch the movie.

“Well, if it was maybe then--” he’s cut off by your phone ringing and vibrating on the coffee table.

The caller ID shows a picture of your friend George that lights up the screen. Since most people don’t opt for calling, especially in your friend group, you answer quickly.

“Hello?” You question, nervous something’s wrong with him or another of your friends.

“Y/N!” He excitedly shouts in your ear, so much so that you have to take it away from your ear. At least now you know there’s nothing wrong but your bleeding eardrums.

“I tried calling Tom’s phone but it went straight to voicemail! I’ve got some exciting news and I figured he’s with you though, yeah?” He continues to shout over the noise on his side.

“I’ll put you on speakerphone,” you reply and do just that, before you place it on the coffee table.

“Is there a congratulations in order?” Tom asks, a knowing smile on his face. You look at Tom, confused as to what he is talking about.

“Hell yeah there is! She cried and I cried but she said yes! Her family is over right now but the whole gang is coming over for celebratory drinks later, are ya in?” George asks, and you quickly connect the dots.

“Wait, you proposed to Gwen?! And you didn’t tell me? And more importantly, you didn’t ask for my help?” You question in quick succession, because as resident hopeless romantic, you should really be the first one your friends come to for things like this.

You then turn to Tom who’s chuckling at your excitement, and now you’re yelling at him, “but you knew? And didn’t tell me either?!”

You chuck a pillow at him, which he dodges before laughing harder at. He ignores you and leans towards the phone to reply to George’s invitation.

“We’ll be there, George. Just text me the details, oh and tell Gwen she’s a div for saying yes,” Tom replies, laughing when George replies with a ‘sure thing!’ before hanging up. He’s so excited he didn’t even register Tom’s comment as a jab, or needing a comeback (which is especially amusing considering how quippy George usually is).

Gwen and George are a few years older than the rest of your friend group, so you’re a little unsynchronized in your points in life but they’re close friends with you all nonetheless. They have been going out since before anyone in your group has known them. They’re high school sweethearts, best friends, lovers and everything in between. They’ve been through so much in all their time together. They had been told they would never last for the first four years of their relationship. When they ended up on opposite coasts since George left to a startup business and Gwen stayed home to go to culinary school, they were told that one of them would cheat if they didn’t get bored of the distance and each other before then. When they ended up on the same coast in recent years, people assumed Gwen wouldn’t want to stay with him as he wasn’t making much money and had yet to pop the question. Neither Gwen or George paid any mind to any opinions or judgements and were happy taking their time. They were secure with where they were at and whether a shiny ring on her finger and piece of paper happened tomorrow or years in the future, it didn’t matter to either of them when it happened when they knew how they felt.

Now two years later, George’s business has taken off, they live upstate in a nice apartment with their sweet little French bulldog and they’re stable enough to plan the big, romantic wedding they both want. It’s heartwarming every time either of them tells you about their story, or talks about each other at all. Which is why you’re pissed you’re only finding out now.

“I cannot believe you didn’t even tell me,” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest with your eyes trained on the TV, “you’re shit at keeping secrets, but this one you decide to not tell me.”

“You’re just jealous that he came to me advice rather than you,” he grins, laying his head in your lap to look up at you.

“Well yeah! You’re not even into all that lovey-dovey, romantic stuff, I am. When you dated that girl last year you couldn’t even think of a gift to give her for Christmas, I had to pick one out. And Harry said you never even said ‘I love you’ to any of your girlfriends growing up and I’ve never heard you say that either.” you pout at the TV, despite not paying attention because it’s just your excuse to not look down at him.

Except that he is into all that lovey-dovey stuff. Or at least he has been since he met you. It’s cheesy, but it’s like you’ve lent him the rose-colored glasses you see the world through and he’s eternally grateful for it. Of course, it helps that he’s in love with you and watching you admire romance and the idea of a fairytale ending is enough to make anyone fall just as hard as he has. But all of that is just too heavy considering you’ve only recently returned to your usual self. Tom can’t be selfish and risk hurting you when you’ve only just begun to heal from your shitty ex-boyfriend. What you need now is your friend and so instead of any declaration of love, he jokes with you.

“Guess the ladies love me because I love hard enough in other ways,” he says, winking at you.

“I live across the hall, so I know definitely not hard enough, Holland” you retort back, grabbing the last pillow on the couch to throw at his face.

The both of you are in Tom’s car, on the way to Gwen and George’s apartment. The setting sun streams through the passing trees, while Tom’s playlist (the one full of all the songs you like, that he’ll always deny was made specifically for you) plays throughout the car.

Tom glances at you as you lean your head against the window. You’ve been silent the whole car ride. Not singing along to your favorite song or blabbering about the romance of the engagement, which is unbelievably out of character. He turns down the volume on the stereo so it’s quiet enough to hear the wind whip against the car.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions, sneaking a glance at you before returning his eyes to the road, pulling onto their street.

You don’t say anything for a few minutes, making him think you didn’t hear him. He pulls into a parking spot, thankful for not having to parallel park, and is about to repeat the question when you finally reply.

“Nothing important.” You say and of course Tom doesn’t believe it. Before he can question the honesty of your reply, you’re opening the passenger door and beginning to walk up to their apartment.

Tom takes the keys out of the ignition and exits the car, quick to catch up to you. It's colder upstate, allowing the snow to form a thick blanket on the ground. It’s fresh and fluffy, effectively dampening all ambient sound outside. While he really wants to ask you again, he can tell you’re not ready to talk yet so he stays silent on the walk up to the apartment building as well as the elevator ride up.

You reach to knock on the door, greeted immediately by George.

“Hey guys! I’m glad you could make it,” he smiles, practically beaming. They’ve both always known it was in the cards for them to get engaged and of course married, but damn if he wasn’t ecstatic about it finally happening.

“Gwen’s in the living room, on her fourth glass of champagne so naturally she’s already started her own acapella concert in there,” he tells you, looking absolutely smitten just thinking about his future bride, even as a drunk, goofy mess.

“Oh, and Jacob brought some celebratory cigars and since you were such a huge part in helping me plan this, I’d love if you’d join me for one,” George offers Tom.

Tom looks towards you, not wanting to leave when your mood seems off like this. He doesn’t want to flat out say no to George, but you can tell this is his silent way of asking.

“You can go, I’m gonna go see Gwen. I hate the smell of them anyways,” you reassure him with a smile and congratulate George before walking through the apartment to find her.

Gwen is surrounded by people talking to her and congratulating her but as soon as she sees you, she comes running.

“Y/N! Hi! I’m engaged!” She shouts despite the music not being at a loud volume, champagne in one hand and flashing the other with the ring on it at you.

“I know you did, that’s why I came,” you reply with a smile, leaning in to greet your tipsy friend with a hug.

For a while you’re chatting with her and some other friends, not really as energetic as you would be but most people have been here longer than you and are already a little tipsy, so no one notices. You’re in the middle of half-listening to one of Gwen’s co-workers tell all of you about their upcoming trip to somewhere you don’t really care about, when a hand is placed on your back.

“Do you mind if I steal Y/N away from you for a moment?” He asks and he’s behind you but you can just tell he’s got on a charming smile (but isn’t it always charming to you?)

All of the intoxicated girls grin at his English accent and endearing smile, nodding simultaneously and encouraging him to take you away. You think one may have even said ‘hell, you can take me!’, but regardless, Tom utters a thank you regardless. With his hand in yours, he leads you through the apartment and onto the balcony. The smell of cigar smoke lingers outside and the night air is chilling against your bare arms, having left your jacket inside.

“You brought me away from friends, free booze and the warmth of the indoors to… have me smell some cigar smoke?” You joke, arms hugging yourself in an attempt to keep warm.

“You’re being weird,” he replies before sliding glass door shut, blocking out the music and talking from inside.

“Excuse me?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “so you’re gonna force me to be cold, smell cigar smoke, and call me weird? I’m going inside then.”

“Okay I’m sorry for saying you’re being weird,” he says quickly, “But, can you please sit down with me? You can even have my jacket,” he offers, and shrugs it off to hand to you.

You eye the jacket, then the table, before grabbing his coat and sitting down. Bundling yourself up in his warm jacket, the smoke scent lingers on his coat, but it's mixed with his familiar cologne and that’s enough to be comforting.

“I just, I really love engagements and romance and I realize I haven’t really been excited for two of my closest friends when that’s all tonight is about. It’s just kind of weird behavior on my part and I wanted to talk to you about it,” Tom replies dramatically (the damned acting major).

You look down at the table because you know exactly what he’s doing. Really, it’s hard not to, he knows how stubborn you are and reads you better than anyone, so voices his concern this way. If he says something flat out, you don’t really have a chance to deny it.

“Oh, no wait. That’s you.” He finishes his sentence and pulls out the chair on the opposite side of the table to sit down in.

“Haha, that never gets old.” You reply sarcastically, running your fingers across the glass that covers the top of the table.

He places his hand atop of yours, stilling your movements. You look up to him, unblinking and expressionless.

“Really, N/N what’s wrong? You were excited earlier and you’re practically the president of the Gwen/George fan club so if you don’t get excited, they’re going to find another leader.” He jokes but stops when you don’t smile.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, biting at your cheek. You’re trying your best to not rain on their parade, and no one notices but Tom. But if he keeps pushing, you’re not going to be able to hold your stupid emotions in.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he reprimands, squeezing your hand, “you know you can tell me anything.”

You look at the closed door and no one else is out here, or paying attention and Tom is your best friend, and maybe if you talk about it, you’ll be able to enjoy the party.

“Sometimes I just worry it will never happen for me,” you start, looking down at your hands, “getting married I mean. Or anything relatively close, like finding someone who loves me long enough to even stay more than a few months…”

“And I know I’m only 23, and they’re 28 so they’re at a different point in their life and they’ve been going out forever but..” you pause, and Tom doesn’t interrupt, just listens.

“After what happened with him, I’m scared of ever trying again. More than that, I think I just feel like that maybe that’s the best I’ll ever get, or even deserve,” you finish, with tears welling up in your eyes, and you look away, out over the balcony.

Tom gets up and you close your eyes, letting the tears fall because maybe he thinks you’re selfish for making this night about you somehow and he’s leaving. But instead, he pulls you up out of the chair and brings you to his chest and holds you tightly. You stay like that for a while, until the tears slow to a stop and your breathing has slowed to normal.

“Why would you ever think that’s the best you’ll get?” he asks and you look up at him, expecting some sort of joke because there’s no way he’s serious.

“Why wouldn’t I? I must deserve it in some regard after how deeply and unapologetically he hurt me. After all that happened and how long it went on for, it's hard not to think somehow, it’s my fault. I must have done something wrong.” The tears are welling in your eyes again, threatening to fall.

“You cannot seriously believe that,” He softly rubs his hands up and down your arms, “hey, look at me.”

He puts his hand under your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet his.

“Why would you ever think you deserve the kind of treatment he gave you?” He questions, and then repeats himself when you don’t answer, gingerly as though speaking too loud would scare you away.

“He wasn’t all bad,” you reply meekly, biting the inside of your cheek, “sometimes he--”

Tom cuts you off, “No, there’s no ‘sometimes’ for treating someone you’re supposed to love well, it’s not something you need to earn or something that’s rationed. He was a dick all the time, he just pretended not to be sometimes to manipulate you into staying.”

Your heart throbs at the blunt veracity of his words. Deep, deep down, under everything that has happened, all of the trauma and damage done, you know it’s true. Internally you’ve just been at a constant tug of war, trying to rationalize all that happened. Was he in love with you at all? Did you do something to make him hurt you like he did? Could you have fixed him? Was he good under it all and just hurting? Did you imagine it all? Were you not good enough in the end, even for him?

“Why manipulate me into staying if he was the one who ended up leaving in the end?” you question, and his own heart hurts at your words.

Tom’s not sure what to say because he saw your ex leave you and come back so many times. Saw how it slowly chipped away at you each time. When someone does that to you, time and time again, it takes away all your power. You feel helpless and like you can’t go on and the only thing you can do is wait for them to come back. While all of that makes Tom furious, and he wishes you were the one who dumped that asshole because he deserved it, he instead says what will best comfort you.

“Because he’s a blind idiot. But it’s probably the kindest thing he’s done your whole relationship,” he replies, before moving his hand from under your chin to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, “and I know that sounds insensitive because you hurt for so long and you’re just getting over it, but it’s true.”

“You’ll find someone who fulfills all of those fairytale expectations, because you shouldn't settle for less and you don’t have to. Someone who is kind, and cares for you, and appreciates everything you are and have to offer. I’m not saying it will take away all the hurt you have felt, but they will love you so deeply that you’ll wonder how you ever thought you deserved any less,” he promises, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

He wants to say he’s that someone, confess the way he felt about you since the very beginning but that’s not what you need now. Instead he gives you one last squeeze and brings you down inside, out of the cold. He’s gotten you to at least talk about it and that at least means you won’t hide yourself away, hurting and staying silent in an attempt to not burden anyone. Not that you could ever be a burden, not to Tom.

It hurts a little less when you have someone like Tom by your side. Maybe people look at you two and think he’s suffering from white knight syndrome, like you need to rescued because you’re a damsel in distress. Maybe they think you love him because he’s doing the saving and you love him for such a shallow reason. Except it’s not that, you’re just healing on your own with your best friend being there to support you and love you. It is deeper than a fleeting attraction because someone has helped you. This love is patient, kind and unwavering. As cheesy as it sounds, Tom is someone you fell for slowly, and then all at once. You went to bed one night thinking of him as your best friend and woke up the next with the thought crossing your mind while you were in the shower; ‘I love my best friend so much’ and by the time you were done rinsing away your shampoo, you realized ‘shit, I love him’.

After that it was all you could think of for weeks, noticing all the ways he cared for you. Something as simple as asking if you had gotten enough sleep last night or giving you the cherry from his drinks because you love them so much. The way he locks eyes with you in a boring lecture to make sure you’re awake, the way his hand immediately grabs yours in crowds. Picking up your favorite chips when he goes grocery shopping, just so he always has them in the cupboard for you even though he doesn’t like them. The way he doesn’t just tolerate the things you like, and he doesn’t but gets excited for them simply because he likes seeing you enjoy things. The two of you are the other’s first person to tell both good and bad news alike to. The two of you may fight but neither of you are too embarrassed to admit you’re in the wrong to the other. He makes mundane things like getting gas or going grocery shopping entertaining. While you should be scared of him leaving or being hurt again, you’ve trusted him for so long with matters regarding your heart, it only seems right that he’s the one you trust to hold your it and not harm it. But you don’t want him to think he’s a rebound from the man who’s broken your heart only months ago, because it is so much deeper than that. Your love for him is so much deeper than that. So, you keep quiet, loving him silently.

You both have fallen so deeply into each other, but both too worried about caring for the other to say anything and tonight isn’t any different. The rest of the night is spent celebrating your friends’ engagement: dancing and drinking the night away. The two of you exchange longing glances throughout the entire evening, scared to break the silence regarding your feelings.

—

Tom pulls into your own apartment complex, parking before glancing over at you. Your eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, high heels in your lap while you’re curled up in the passenger seat. Tom unbuckles, reaching his hand over to softly shake your shoulder in an attempt to wake you gently. You continue your slumber, unphased by his disturbance.

“Y/N,” he calls softly. You’re still sleeping soundly, and you look so peaceful that Tom can’t help but reach over and tuck your hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger there.

Out of all the ways you could wake up, this could very well be the creepiest way to, Tom thinks. His thought must have manifested it because your eyes flutter open slowly. While he thinks to withdraw his hand and pretend he wasn’t just thinking about how breathtaking his best friend is (and how in love with her he is), you instead lean into his hand.

“Mm, hello,” you mumble, blinking to adjust to the darkness of the car. The few streetlights lining the parking lot let in just enough light for you to see his lovely face. Tom hasn’t shut off the car yet so heat is still on and his (really, your) playlist continues playing at a low volume.

“We’re home,” he says gently, trying not to be too loud as you shake off the effects of sleep.

The words make you feel warm, hearing him say ‘home’, despite the fact that you’ve definitely referred to the general complex as ‘home’ before. Maybe it’s just the circumstances; him waking you up tenderly from a night spent out together, like you’re lovers and he’s waking you so you can go inside to the bed you both share.

“Oh, okay,” you reply, rubbing at your eyes despite the presence of makeup.

“Want me to carry you up?” He asks, innocently enough. Except that it just furthers that fantasy of being together: being carried up to your home together.

“I mean, because you’re tired and you’ve had a bit to drink everything,” he quickly adds, “and I know they’re the lace up ones and you hate doing them up.” He points to the heels in your lap.

Of course, he’s just being his usual sweet self. He’s heard you complain about these shoes enough and knows the only reason you wear them is because you say the way they look is worth the effort. But he also knows when you’re drunk and the shoes come off, you’re past the point of no return and you’ll only ever get less put together, not more. Because he remembers things like that.

The thudding in your chest quiets a little, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He turns off the car and gets out to walk around to your side. He opens the passenger door and grabs your shoes from you and allows you to wrap your hands around his neck. He adjusts his hold on you so he’s carrying you bridal style (great, that helps your romantic mindset) and you bury your face into his chest, telling yourself its only to shield your eyes from the change in lighting. He places you on the floor, since you’re safe from the slushy snow outside now. While he wishes he could have you in his arms the whole way up, there’s no reason for it and it would look strange since you’re just friends.

You walk barefoot beside him to the elevator, both of you silent on your way up. You’ve managed to make it home before 2 AM, but the hall and the whole complex is peacefully silent. When you reach your apartment, you both begin talking at the same time.

“I just wanted to say—”

“I hope you know—”

“Oh sorry, you go.”

“No, it’s okay, you go.”

You both laugh quietly as not to wake any of your neighbors, until Tom gestures for you to go ahead first.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For talking to me about everything tonight. And for not thinking I was absolutely awful to be thinking about myself during Gwen and George’s happy night,” you glance down at your bare feet, shy at tonight’s actions.

“You don’t have to apologize,” and he continues before you can interrupt, “you really don’t. I know you and so I know it wasn’t something you did out of selfishness.”

He reaches for your hand and holds it between you two, while the other reaches up to stroke your cheek, which you lean into again. It’s an intimate gesture he doesn’t usually do, but has managed twice tonight, and it feels like walking the line of friendship and lovers.

“You deserve so much better than anything he ever gave you, or anything anyone has ever given you. You deserve the world and I can’t believe you would ever think otherwise. I will always fight for your fairytale ending, even if you give up or think you don’t deserve it.”

Your heart swells and you want to thank him for all that he’s saying, but he only continues.

“I always want you to feel like you can talk to me, because I will always be here because I, I lo-“ he stops himself and your heart begins thudding again, because maybe he feels the same way you do.

“I-I look out for you. And you look out for me, right?” he finishes, his voice unsteady and you’re beyond disappointed.

You rest your hand atop the hand of his that cups your face.

Despite how nervous you feel, and how clammy your hands are getting and the thumping in your chest, you look into his eyes bravely and ask, “Tom, do you love me?”

“Of course I do, you’re my—”

“No. I am asking you; do you love me?”

When he doesn’t say yes, but he also doesn’t say no you decide to make the first move. You lean in to kiss him, but quickly his hands pull out of yours, pressing gently against your shoulders. Your brain goes into full panic mode: you cannot believe you misread the signals so badly, you cannot believe you tried to kiss your best friend. You turn away from him, fumbling with your keys and shoving the apartment key into the lock, shoving it in, scrambling to escape from this mess.

Tom certainly isn’t drunk since he had to drive home but the emotion bubbling inside of his chest is far more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol could be. He’s grasping at words, trying to try to express what he’s feeling right now but his thoughts are jumbled and clouded.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, walking to follow you into your apartment, desperate to explain himself.

Your turn around, pressing your hand against his chest, leaving it there for a moment, not meeting his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to hold your hands or assure you in any way, so you turn around to enter your apartment. You close the door softly and turn the lock, and maybe that’s scarier than you slamming the door in anger. You press your forehead to the door, eyes closed and attempting not to feel all that you are right now, as deeply as you are. You could not be more thankful for Zendaya’s family trip as she is unable to see the stupid attempt at an advance. She is not here to pretend that what you did wasn’t stupid, or that you didn’t make the biggest mistake.

You’re frustrated and annoyed that you’re hurting like this. You’re frustrated that you were stupid enough to think you’re not a broken mess, that you’re deserving of him, of love. Of course he doesn’t want anything more than friendship from you, he’s seen the train wreck that is your love life. Why would he willingly dive into that mess? To soften the ache in your heart you tell yourself that it’s better this way, you tell yourself you haven’t felt this way for as long as you have, that it's just the alcohol and the influence of the romance of your friend’s engagement. You pretend that you don’t feign sleep on Saturday mornings to stay in his arms just a little bit longer. Those longing glances at him from across the room at parties or class don’t happen. Even more, the times where he catches you and smiles before joining you, and makes you laugh and nothing else matters doesn’t happen either. All those times he comforts you and says things that straddle that line of friendship, and you just so badly want to say something back or kiss him, those don’t happen either. You’re friends and that’s it. Friendship is safer, it won’t end in your heart broken, and a little bit of Tom in that way is better than all of him romantically. You’ll settle for loving him softly and quietly, like a friend would, and you ignore the way your chest hurts like you’ve just lost the love of your life as you fall asleep that night.

Tom is left outside of your door, stunned at all that has happened. You are hurt, alone and without your best friend and the fact that he is the cause of it is what hurts him the most. He may have had a few drinks (and barely slept that night), he remembers it vividly. He doesn’t for a moment question the authenticity of his memories when you pretend like nothing happened the next day.

Taglist: @averyfosterthoughts @martinafigoli

#emi writes #tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland writing #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #the one (aato)#tw: abuse mention #tw: ptsd

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aprils-arcadia · 3 years

Text

Curiosity

Member: Dowoon Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1.9k Summary: You had always been incredibly curious and now is finally the time to find out your dad’s biggest secret

When people talked about you your curiosity had always been their Nr. 1 topic. You had been unbelievably curious since the get go, often trapping your dad in half-hour loops of why-questions or rummaging through stuff that wasn't yours just to find your answer. They always told you it was your most admirable and most annoying trait at the same time. Some adults often lectured you that “Curiosity killed the cat” and other outdated phrases like that but you knew better. You knew how this phrase ended. “Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back”. So the only thing they achieved was encouraging you. Encouraging you to continue your quest for answers.

You had always wondered where this excessive longing for answers came from. Why had you always been so curious? It only became apparent to you in later years. It was probably because the first years of your life had been shrouded in mystery. Why were you not allowed into the one room in the basement? Why did your father keep a shoebox so far out of your reach? And why did he continually dodge the topic when you brought it up?

Normally he was happy to give you all the answers you needed and if he didn't have them himself he helped you find them, visiting libraries and museums or simply watching documentaries. Why the sky was blue, why there are no dinosaurs among us anymore or where rainbows come from. But this one thing he never wanted to answer and he even got agitated when you pushed the issue.

It was not until you entered middle school that you finally learned the truth. You had found an old band shirt of your dad’s while rummaging through his closet. Having entered your rock/punk phase an oversized black band shirt would have been the perfect fit. You knew your dad had a collection of those, often sporting his Blink-182 sleeveless in the summer or cuddled up in his Foo Fighters’ hoodie in the winter. The shirt you had found was a jackpot, no wonder it had been buried deep in the back of his closet. By now he was keenly aware that you started stealing his clothes.

You had eyed the shirt with confusion. You couldn’t remember him ever wearing this one. It was a black shirt with teal colored letters on it that said “Youth”. Above the writing a big 6 with various circles around it was printed. You presumed this was the logo of the band. Somehow this logo rang a bell in the back of your head. Somewhere you had seen it before but you couldn't quite grab the memory tightly enough to reveal where. The back was filled with tour dates dating back 16 years. So this shirt was older than you were. You pulled it over your head and looked at yourself in the mirror. The teal-coloured letters fit your blue backpack and sneakers perfectly. It felt like you were meant to find it. You were sporting a big smile and proudly presented your outfit to your dad. Instead of his usual smile at your new outfits his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

"You can't wear that. You're gonna go and change now."

"But dad why? I like it and you gotta admit it looks great"

"No whys. You're gonna go and change. End of discussion."

"But-" You had stopped yourself when you saw the look on your father’s face. This was non-negotiable.

Apart from ruining your outfit for the day more than anything it had piqued your interest. Why was it so important to him that you didn't wear it? What meaning did this shirt and that tour have to him?

You had spent the whole day thinking about where you had seen it before and the only results you achieved were a major headache and even more questions. You had asked a few friends if they had seen the logo. Nothing. Your web searches also turned up nothing since you didn't have the full name of the band. Resigned, you packed your bag at the end of the day and headed out to the parking lot.

Most of the days it was Uncle Sungjin's turn to pick you up. You liked to spend time with him. He always patiently listened to you rant about things that happened at school or tried to give you honest and useful advice. The second you had entered the car the revelation hit you like a brick wall. Sungjin had turned the key in the ignition and a small round pendant swayed in the air. There on his keychain was the logo. You had seen it so many times but it never seemed to really stay in your head.

"Everything okay, peanut?” He asked, concern clearly visible on his face.

What he didn't expect was the bombardment of questions that followed. You couldn't stop yourself and for a solid minute everything you had been wondering about this whole day came pouring out.

"Woah woah, stop there. I think it might be best just to ask your dad that."

This wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You had hoped he would be able to solve the riddle that has been holding your brain hostage, but instead you got nothing. Even your sure-kill moves of pouting and begging didn’t get you any further. He just wouldn’t budge. Instead you saw him type out a short message in some chat simply saying: “I think it’s time”. You didn’t think this day could have gotten any more enigmatic than it already was.

Once you arrived home you quickly stepped out of the car and headed straight to your room. Sungjin said he would wait for your dad in the living room since he had something to discuss with him. You couldn’t have cared less at that time. It felt like nobody was on your side right now. You threw your backpack towards the desk and let yourself sink onto your bed. Maybe you would be able to extort some information out of Uncle Wonpil, he always had an even softer spot for you and he was terrible at keeping things to himself.

You heard your dad's voice from below the stairs:

"We're gonna have some unexpected company today, so I'm ordering pizza. Which one do you want?

"Salami," you shouted back, not moving an inch.

You had heard the doorbell ring a few times but decided to stay in your room, not being in the mood for company.

"Pizza's here. Come on down." You heard a familiar voice say.

You quickly got up from your bed and sprinted down the stairs, skipping the last few steps and practically tackling Younghyun. Out of all your dad’s friends you only saw him a few times a year since he had always been busy with something.

"What are you doing here?" you said in surprise.

Younghyun motioned towards the living room, where your dad was standing. “Just a little surprise,” he said, smirking at you.

"I knew this day would come and I think it's okay now.” your dad started to say “And you know I can hardly keep anything from you for long and I wouldn’t have a chance against your Sherlock-like detective work. Why don't you sit down." He smiled his usual smile but you could see the concern that was hidden in his eyes. You walked over to the couch and the suspense became almost numbing. There on the couch were sitting Uncle Jae, who usually picked you up from practice on Tuesday. And right next to him was Uncle Wonpil. Seems like you wouldn’t need to call him after all, since he was right there waving at you.

"What is going on?" You asked, eyeing the room in confusion. It has been about half a year since you saw all of them together like this.

"Well peanut, you'll see in a second." Sungjin came in from the kitchen holding a tower of pizza boxes and started distributing them among everyone. "Just make yourself comfortable." He handed you your pizza and let himself sink into the armchair to your right.

Your dad went to the mysterious shoebox on top of the book shelf and got out a disc. So it was finally time. He put it into the player and a concert video started playing.

You gasped as you saw the logo pop up on the screen. Now everything would be answered. On the screen was a stage, lit dimply with blue lights, the backdrop displaying in huge letters the word “Youth”. It was exactly the same as on the shirt. Slowly people started to enter the stage and the crowd began to cheer loudly. You saw the drummer sit down and the slowly increasing spotlight made his features more visible. You gasped audibly, losing all control over your jaw that was hanging wide open by now. The first song started playing and the stage was brightly lit, and there they were, everyone in this room was on screen and on stage. You looked around in confusion.

"You guys you... you were... you were A BAND?"

All five of them smiled brightly at you.

“And a pretty damn good one, I’d say,” Jae exclaimed while already wolfing down his pizza.

"It was time for you to know," added your dad, ruffling through your hair. "I was just always too afraid to tell you. I just wanted you to have a normal life. Especially after your mom left. I know that it was selfish to not tell you from the start."

You weren’t able to say anything and just watched in awe. A million thoughts darted through your head but you were coming up empty. You felt a soft weight on your shoulder but you didn’t turn. It was as if your world had stopped dead in its tracks making you unable to comprehend. You looked at the screen and saw how much fun your dad was having and how much the others enjoyed standing on that stage, singing and performing with their closest friends. Everything made sense, you never questioned how the five of them met or why they were still so close, they just always had been there, always had been part of your life since you could remember. Now you finally knew. You looked around and saw the others look at the screen. You were scared to see regret or remorse or anything but instead all of them were smiling brightly, seeming to look back to this time with fond memories. You could see Younghyun bobbing his head to the beat and Wonpil swaying in his seat to the melody.

“What happened? Am I…-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Sungjin interrupted, looking at you with a stern expression, like he wanted to prevent you from saying and even thinking about the possibility.

“We just got older.” Your dad shrugged. “The hyungs had to take off for the military and even though we still had some gigs after that, we all just started to create our own lives. Younghyun’s acting career took off, Sungjin got married and I met your mom. So we decided to disband. It wasn’t the easiest decision but we all agreed that it would be best and as you can see we never really drifted apart.”

“Can you still do it? I mean...that” You pointed towards the screen.

“Probably,” said Wonpil looking around the room and getting a couple of nods in return.

“I should have everything at my place,” said Jae, showing you a thumbs up. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“You better get dressed then,” your dad said, handing you the shirt of this morning. “I think this belongs to you now.”

#day6 #fanfiction #yoon dowoon #dowoon #dowoon fluff #dad dowoon #parent au #aprils fanfiction

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treasure-my-aurora · 4 years

Text

All Out of Love

♥ Jisung/Minho (Chanlix- mentioned)

♣ Summary: Jisung was unsure where this sudden attraction to his best friend and groupmember came from. Was it the time when Minho decided to prance around through the dorm in a pair of basically translucent basket ball shorts that did nothing to cover up the apparent bulge between his legs? Or the time when they sat together and watched a movie, naked thighs rubbing together and Jisung wanted nothing more than just straddle those thighs and ride the older until they forgot their own names...

♠ Rated: Explicit. First time blowjobs, love confessions, canon compliant, porn with a lot of plot

♦ Words: 6,151

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They were alone, just laying on Jisung’s bed. The dorm was quiet, and the sun kept getting lower by each passing minute, casting the bedroom in a soft, blushed, golden light. Yet another packed day had passed and the older of the two had been away on dance practise and music lessons all afternoon. Jisung himself, had been lonely and down in a low mood the entire day, barely scribbled down a lyric that could… probably become a song after a lot of fine adjustments, while the rest of them worked on individual pieces of music as well or just had a day off. He thought that he’d held up a nice act throughout the day, acting like he didn’t just wanted to crawl back underneath his blanket and forget about all the missed opportunities that had passed by, the fact that they missed out on a whole tour, and that they were all basically stranded at their dorm. He didn’t have to say a word though, when the dance line had gotten home. Nearly falling through the door but successfully picking themselves up again when the smell of tteokbokki and samgyeopsal made their stomachs growl- Minho just met his eyes instantly and gave him a soft smile, as if he’d missed his company as well. Jisung was just about to start eating and had paused mid-air when his friend met his eyes from across the room and watched him for a few seconds like that, with the corners of his lips curled up, hair sticking to his neck and the cap he’d been wearing almost damp from sweat, and pushed the bowl of food he was about to start eating, into the older’s hands instead with a small smile before making another one for himself. His friend sat down next to him, thankful and intoxicatingly sweet talking like always, smelling strongly of deodorant and musky sweat and that little something, that… warmth that was his own. Jisung didn’t remember what they had talked about during the meal, he’d agreed and disagreed at some points but that was pretty much it. Minho’s back was lazily pressed against his chest during the entire time they ate and he couldn’t help but inhale slowly and steadily through his nose, feeling like a creep but couldn’t stop himself non the less when his heart fluttered happily at the smell that surrounded him. Minho noticed his distance in the conversation though, he must’ve, because he came and visited him just shortly after they had cleaned up the trash that was left after the take-away. Fresher after a quick shower and dressed in soft new clothes. Jeongin only gave them both a small, knowing smile before he unplugged his charger and took both it, and his phone with him out of the room, closing the door after him. Hyunjin’s loud, surprised shout could be heard from the other side of the dorm barely ten seconds later and Jisung couldn’t help but snort out a small chuckle. “Place for one more?” Minho had asked while he closed the distance between them, already knowing that the younger wouldn’t say no and Jisung only hummed back a low “Of course” while he tried his best not to stare at the unbelievably unfair way the setting sun outside successfully shot it’s last beams straight onto the older through the window, making the shine in his hair and glow of his flushed, exhausted body seem ethereal. So lithe, and kissed just for a second or two before he placed his foot on the edge of the bed, took one big step over the younger, curled up on the pillow next to him like a tired cat and fished up his phone from the pocket of his sweats. Jisung went back to what he was doing and soon enough, music from a playlist with songs they both enjoyed played softly from the older’s phone. Just a few minutes passed in quiet calmness, ten or fifteen at most, before Jisung sighed dramatically, swung one leg over the older’s hips and locked his phone, “Hyung, I’m boooored” Minho glanced at him for just a second when he whined before going back to what he was doing. “But hyuuuung…” “Entertain yourself then” the older answered bluntly, not breaking eye contact from the twitter feed again while he aimlessly scrolled through it and Jisung turned to him with a small frown. It was embarrassing, since they’d laid like this for such a short while, but he still got completely caught up in the moment of it, of Minho, like he’d done countless times before. Mind turning completely blank while his gaze rested on the other’s features- of them just laying so close together, bodies pressed up against one another, legs entangled now since the older pressed even closer to him, Minho’s right hand fingers seemingly unconsciously caressing the younger’s knuckles, and his face so close to Jisung’s that he only had to scoot forward a decimetre before he could place a soft kiss against his jaw. … He didn’t though. Mostly because he was worried of what would happen if he did. If Minho would just give him a disappointed look, get up and leave, or if he would get angry because Jisung would finally cross that invisible line in their friendship that separated them from being an actual couple. There’s was small stubble on it, barely covering his jawline with short, fine, prickly hair and he frowned again, found himself reaching up and stroked the back of his finger gently over it while wondering quietly to himself if he’d ever be brave enough to find out how it would feel against his lips. The sudden touch caught the older off guard and he turned and gave his best friend a soft questioning smile. Like he didn’t mind the affection and rather just wondered where it came from and if Jisung, perhaps, needed more of the physical contact they both had missed throughout the day. He met the younger’s gaze, brown meeting brown and damn it- what the fuck was Jisung supposed to do? He was bored out of his mind, constantly horny like any other average libido, young adult living in the same house as seven other equally horny guys without the space or time to even masturbate every once in a while, depressed like a middle aged man who’d been divorced twice and lost his kids, but thankful that they could at least go to the studio so they didn’t had to be locked inside their dorm all the time, but it was not enough. He longed to see other people, to live normally and not be scared to death that any of his friends or family would get affected by the raging bullshit that was currently happening. No, it was not even nearly enough to pull him out of the fact that he was currently spending more time with his members than he’d done since pre-debut… don’t misunderstand- He loved them. He really did and it was all good some days- even enjoyable when they spend a full day having Mario Smash Bros tournaments or alike, but also damn near infuriating because they were all close as brothers who constantly picked on every annoying feature of each other and conflicts quickly arose. He tried to keep himself busy, wrote a new song just for the joy of it, even recorded it and happily waited for it to be uploaded to their YouTube channel, and yet, there was just a big gaping hole in the centre of his chest that craved to be filled with something. Well… he knew what he longed for even though it was impossible at the moment- the big stage and Stays from around the world. Their shouting voices, singing along, dancing, gaining happy memories and having a good time. He even missed the stress of going abroad, the rush of arriving to yet another new city. The way his heart hammered so hard that he could hear it in his ears when they went out to do a performance… “Jisungie?” Minho’s voice pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he chuckled nervously when he realised that he must have stared at his friend while being lost in his daydreaming. “Got lost in thought, I’m good” he mumbled, and shifted slightly against the older’s body. Minho was a familiarity against him that felt as natural as breathing but somehow, he just couldn’t get comfortable again. He went back to his phone, squirmed when he became hyper aware of Minho’s naked arms pressing against his own, the older’s gentle breathing at the side of his face and the fact that his friend was still so unbelievably cosy warm from both dancing all day, plus the apparent hot shower he’d had prior to him coming knocking, didn’t exactly help. Oh, and of course, how could he forget; his quite newfound (yep, he totally blamed the quarantine) fascination of the older… more so than the brotherly familiarity that he’d previously felt. A bigger, more intensively burning… love? Fondness? Affection maybe? than the family love and care that had always been there. He wasn’t even sure of how it started, if the “love” part came months ago and he first now started to think about the older’s body in a more… objective way than earlier or if the love had always been there and moments here and there these past few weeks only emphasised the strong affect the older had on him. He didn’t even know where the sudden, intense attraction came from. If it was that particularly hot day four weeks ago when Minho decided that walking around in only a pair of basketball shorts that did hid exactly nothing from the wandering eye, was a perfectly fine idea (yes, nothing. Especially the free hanging bulge that was very much apparent behind the thin mesh material. It wasn’t that Jisung was even looking very hard, Minho was just a good looking athletic guy with the nicest legs, those thighs, and a *cough* perfect upper body *cough* completed with abs and a hard chest that was perfect to cuddle up against) … or it could’ve been that evening around that time as well when they decided to watch a movie and, somehow, the both of them ended up sharing the same side of the couch. Way too close for Jisung to be fully comfortable with half; because he hadn’t been able to jerk off for days, and half; because the constant lovey dovey bickering between his twin in crime and leader, mixed with him finding them both heavily making out on the kitchen counter while Felix tried out yet another one of his many recipes- sadly reminding him that he was living a much more “human contact” less life than them. Minho had placed an arm around him just as the climax of the movie was going down, one leg thrown over Jisung’s and the warmth of his own naked thighs rubbing against the younger’s was making him dizzy and light-headed and insanely aroused, but he cared for Minho, and it just made the whole situation like 100 times worse because he couldn’t just blame the racing somersaults in his stomach- or the heavy flutter of his heart- on just his own crazy, up-in-the-clouds horniness. Couldn’t stop the fantasies of him just straddling those thick, muscly thighs when they had a moment alone. Couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking gorgeous his lips were, with that perfectly curved cupids bow and full lower lip and how agonizingly badly he wanted to taste them. Couldn’t stop the dreams that played over and over again during a few intensely hot minutes after he woke up. Dreams of him on his back with the older above him, on him, inside of him and he simply let out a deep sigh after realizing that it was a recurring thing after having the same sort of dream four nights in a row. He glanced at the older next to him where they laid and thanked god that there was no such thing as mind readers because he’d surely be fucked if Minho would be able to hear all the shit that swirled inside his deprived mind. He swallowed and tried to get back at his phone but Minho’s breathing next to him was too close now, way too close and he sighed, deeply unhappy with his situation, the fact that his dick had started to spring to life with all the intense thoughts about what he wanted to do to the older and made a move to sit up. Completely giving up on the fact that the comfortable moment they’d had would feel the same again. But a hand around his wrist stopped him just as his feet hit the floor. “Don’t go… please. I don’t know why you’ve stared intensely up at the ceiling for the past minutes but… if there’s something…” Jisung looked back at him, eyes peeking down on the hand around his wrist before he made eye contact with his friend, “If you need to talk, not necessarily having a deep talk but just… about anything. I mean-” the older stuttered and swallowed hard before giving him a sweet smile, “Just stay with me. I- I need you” Minho begged and the younger inhaled sharply, The older wasn’t one to ask such a thing, and especially not beg- not something that was so straightforward and upright (that was all Jisung himself and his highlighted neediness through and through) and there was something more in his voice that only emphasised the words that fell from his lips. Something shameful, like he’d just told a secret. Minho himself looked equally surprised over what he’d said and the hand that gripped him hard let him go just as fast. “Ok, I’ll stay” the younger answered with a gentle smile curled around a voice that wavered only slightly, while his heart thumped hard enough to get stuck in his throat when the older scooted closer to the wall again to make place.

I know we feel the same, rea-la-lize Don't think too hard about what you are going to say, just reply My slightly playful metaphor I wonder how you will interpret it

The lyrics in the song that played from the older’s phone gave the whole moment an even more embarrassing feeling and Jisung could feel his cheeks flush when he laid down with his face towards his friend again. Their bodies found each other before their minds could stop them- like two magnets getting close enough to slam back into one another and Jisung had to stop himself, again, from wiggling too close, from just reaching out and pull the other in. “Do you remember uh… when we just got back from the tour a two months ago?” Minho asked, with one hand pressed between his cheek and the pillow while the other sneaked around the younger's waist and Jisung only nodded, a bit breathless from the weight of his friend’s arm around him, “Do you remember what happened that night?” the older continued and he nodded again, a bit more puzzled. They’d been tired and even though it wasn’t even that late, jet lag was like a punch in the face. Chris had excused their messy, fatigued minds and just let them all leave the dirty laundry as tomorrow's problem before preparing for bed to get back some lost sleep from travelling over time zones. Jisung himself was exhausted and decided to watch some tv and relax a bit before bed. Laying with his head on the armrest and curled up underneath a blanket, one channel seemed even more dull than the next and he sighed with boredom while member after member bid him goodnight. Minho had been quiet when he laid down next to him while Chris flicked off the lights in the living room on his way to the bedroom, giving them both a soft smile while doing so. Or well, the older laid himself down on him to be more precise, and even though he knew that the rational thing would be to ask Minho to please get off because every muscle in his body hurt- he was simply way too tired and way too proud to say that he’d missed times like this, when they could just be close without worrying about oversleeping the next day, or having to worry about another roommate, or making sure that they slept properly and didn’t made a harder work for the styling and make-up noonas the next day. “Why aren’t you going to bed?” Minho had asked after some time while he drew small circles over his sweatshirt clad chest with one finger and Jisung had answered something half-assed about him being unable to go because the older was laying on top of him, “I can move… but you have to do something for me first” the older had said slowly, like he was still considering what he wanted to say, “What?” Jisung had asked, half annoyed by the other’s sudden trial and finally turned his gaze towards his friend. Minho’s eyes glinted with mischief and the younger might have gotten worried of this “thing” that he had to do, if it wouldn’t have been for the unsure smile on his lips. “I wanna kiss” he’d said in the sweetest voice he could muster and Jisung froze underneath him. “What?” he asked again, voice breaking from surprise this time but Minho just stuck his tongue out with a bright grin before sitting back up and walked off to his room like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb in his friends lap. Jisung stayed where he was though, in… shock? of what had happened. But Minho never brought it up the next day, or any time afterward and the younger was sure that he must have been too tired to remember what he’d suggested. At least that’s what he thought. “Do you remember what I said… back then?” Minho looked both like he really enjoyed himself, eyes glinting dangerously dark, full of teasing seduction, much like he looked on stage and his body seemingly getting closer to his friend by the second- but also like he’d rather be anywhere else than next to him at that moment, eyes flickering and feet rubbing across the sheet like he wanted to run away. But he stayed his ground and only inhaled sharply when Jisung placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “I wanna kiss” the younger’s voice stuck a little in his throat and he felt like he he’d gone back to the teenager who just met Minho again. Scared and nervous while excitement bubbled adrenaline through his body. “Yeah, that’s what I-” the older started but was quickly interrupted, “No- I mean… I wanna kiss- I wanna kiss you” Minho opened his mouth but no sound came out and Jisung only chuckled under his breath while he scooted a bit closer, eager and much more confident now when the older seemed to lead him on (cryptically, yes, and much less forward than the younger would be but that was just Minho) They were close enough to feel each other’s breath on their faces when the younger stopped, “Is this ok?” he asked, a bit worried still that he was coming on too strong but Minho only smiled, all crinkly eyes, scrunchy nose, tongue pressing against his upper teeth and lips curled up in a way that was just so Minho that the younger couldn’t help but close the very last distance between them. The older tasted off the same kind of bubbly happiness that he felt himself and a small startled groan slipped between their lips when the surprise of Jisung’s sudden determination slammed into him. Hands wandered up to grip onto hair and clothes with a neediness to pull the other closer. “If you only knew, hyung” Jisung mumbled between heated desperate noises for more, the wetness of lips moving against one another and Minho’s hitched gasp when he rose himself up slightly, braced his upper body on his elbows and let the younger take the lead even though he was the one getting pressed onto the mattress, “I knew” the older whispered back between their lips, “that’s why I tried to trigger a reaction from you back then” “Wait. What?” Jisung fully separated them and looked up on his friend but only received a smug, lopsided grin, “Yeah, but I chickened out when you seemed so stunned. I knew that you’d probably be surprised but speechless?” he snorted out a small chuckle, “I honestly thought I made a mistake” The younger rolled his eyes and leaned up to capture the other’s lips again, the tip of his tongue sneaking out to taste him while he let out a small noise of frustration, “We could’ve been kissing for weeks” Minho hummed something back in agreement before letting his fingertips run down the side of the younger’s face, over those cute cheeks that he adored so much, his soft jawline and revelled in the hitched gasp that slipped between his lips when he grabbed a hold of his chin to coax the other into deepening the kiss. It was slow, maddening and agonizingly wonderful. Sweet, with Jisung getting braver by the second underneath him, pushing up against the older in a silent competition of who would brake first. Who would lose the last compress of control. Who would give in completely. Minho hesitated, swallowed when yet another sweet groan broke between them and held back a small noise of delight when the younger pressed his hardening cock against his thigh. His breath hitched, paused for just a second when he realized that his friend had noticed his tense body, Fuck, were they really going to have sex right here? In Jisung’s bed with an unlocked door and the members just a wall away? Jisung seemed to think the same because he paused as well, longer than the second Minho had, and looked up at the older with eyes that were so impossibly dark that Minho had to swallow hard. “I want you” the younger said, bluntly and with a choked-up breath in his throat. He separated his legs and Minho, who already laid half draped across his body, found himself almost automatically slotting down between them. He bit his tongue when his friend locked his ankles around his lower back, pulled him in closer in the process and damn it, of course Jisung had to wear short gym shorts and a tee that did nothing to shelter away the honeyed, rough skin of his, covered with fine dark and so boy-like in a way that was driving Minho insane. “Want you in any way you’ll have me. Fuck, I just wanna be yours” Jisung groaned and raised his hips up to rub against him. The desperate motion, combined with the begging voice of the younger, was like a punch to the stomach and Minho exhaled out a deep whine. He always used to take pride in his calm and collected self. Even when he felt threatened and was endlessly teased by the younger ones in the group- he executed his warnings with a contradicting, peaceful smile. He was undisturbed by most things, hardworking and naturally chill when it came to his own emotions. But the way that Jisung made him feel at the moment though… licking his lower lip into his mouth before nibbling on it with a shyness that made his heart ache, his fingers playing with the lining of Minho’s sweatpants, only waiting for the queue to pull them down. Fuck, it was driving him crazy, in a way that Minho had never felt towards anyone or anything in his entire life. Crazy in the way that he wanted to scream to the whole world just how much he loved him, how much he would cherish him until the day he died. Crazy in the way the younger felt against his body, twitching with arousal and so fucking gorgeous with that small flush on his cheeks that Minho could feel his own body shiver, like a predator that was just about to pounce his prey. The fact that they still both wore clothes was beyond him, he needed the younger now. “T- touch me hyung, please” Jisung begged and something inside him snapped. He leaned down, hovered over the younger who immediately responded the second Minho shoved his hands underneath his tee. Jisung was strong, he knew that, and the abs on his stomach was a clear result of hours upon hours put in the gym, but it still surprised him- to be able to touch his friend in the sort of way he’d never done before. Fingertips roaming over the other’s stomach, muscles clenching under his touch and he was impatient, he knew that, but at the same time there was really no holding back. No fear of rejection, because Jisung buried the back of his head further into the pillow with a growling moan. Not a single move made that would indicate the other being uncomfortable, so he rid the younger’s shirt up higher, up until his collarbones and savoured in the way that his friend groaned softly to the small, butterfly light kisses he pressed on his abdomen before they travelled up over his chest. Tongue licking one nipple between his teeth, nibbling on it gently before he held back a satisfied smirk when Jisung had to hold his breath when he repeated the action on the other one. “We don’t have much time” he hissed out and Minho nodded to himself, lost in the way that his friends cock rubbed against his lower stomach before he sat back up, “What do you wanna do?” Minho asked, hoping that the younger could put words on the craving that burned so harshly inside him. “I want your hands on me, do- do what you want” It was shameless, the many thoughts and possibilities that showed up in Minho’s head like a rolling tape, but he quickly just stuffed them all into a box to be able to even move again. His cock strained against his underwear and pure need was choking him up by now but he still wanted to take it easy, to not rush because he’d wanted this for so long now that he’d be damned if he destroyed it by being too eager, “Hyung, please” Jisung begged again and he didn’t hesitate this time before plunging his hand into the younger’s gym shorts and closed his hand around his leaking cock. “Fuck” the curse got dragged out and Minho could only watch with wonder while his friend’s back arched from the bed, “Just like that” he exhaled and whined, actually whined, when Minho started to jerk him off, Beads of pre-cum quickly slicked his index finger and the older couldn’t help but smirk to himself. This was all his, at least in this moment- from Jisung’s tiny moans and sharp exhales to the way that Minho’s other hand cupped just perfectly around his hip when he held him down. He captured his lips and the younger groaned into it, his own hands eager to start feeling up the older as well. It was unceremoniously, with the younger’s trembling fingers reaching into his sweatpants before they closed around his cock as well- unceremoniously but so damn good. Minho’s head rolled back on his shoulder’s when Jisung started to move his hand as well, matched up the pace that the older had set and he was lost, utterly and completely lost. It must have been ages since he touched himself, or he was just way, way too pent up on the feelings inside him but he felt himself twitching hard in Jisung’s hand, unable to stop the pre-cum that flowed down his shaft. “Hyung, can I taste you?” Yep, he was gonna die. Fast and clean like an immediate swipe of a knife to his heart. “Yeah, of course” he breathed out and Jisung only smirked at him while they changed positions and his head hit the pillow with a soft thud. The younger grabbed a hold of his sweatpants and pulled them down swiftly before he could protest. A gentle snicker broke between the youngers lips and shame showered over him like a sudden cold rain, “Goin’ commando, are we?” Jisung asked and Minho swallowed hard, both from relief that the younger wasn’t making fun off him and the fact that he was just centimetres from his hard, leaking cock. “Yeah, I uh…” he paused, unable to process words while his friend closed his hand around him again and gently gave him a few gentle tugs, “Hyung, I… I’ve never done this” Jisung sounded small all of a sudden, embarrassed from his lack of experience but Minho only gave him a gentle smile, relief in his chest from the fact that he wasn’t alone in this. That their first time being like this was together, “Me neither” he said sincerely, “Just uh, do what feels comfortable” Jisung nodded, seemingly feeling better with the knowledge that Minho didn’t know what to do either, carefully stuck his tongue out to kitten lick a small bead of pre-cum that dripped from the tip, and Minho couldn’t help the deep groan that slipped past his lips. The younger hummed back, delighted by the reaction and yep, Minho was definitely gonna die because despite his inexperience, Jisung just opened his mouth and took the older down as far as he could, like he’d done it a hundred times before. A sharp gasp broke the wet sound of Jisung sucking him off and he buried his fingers in the younger’s hair to have something to hold onto, something that could push him down on the ground again. “You’re doing so good, Sungie” he praised and felt his heart flip hard in his chest when his friend met his eyes behind dark, full lashes. Eyelids heavy with arousal while those pink, beautiful lips stretched around his cock so good that he had to push himself down into the mattress to prevent the urge of thrusting up further into that warm, wet mouth of his, “You sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked with a grin when Jisung hallowed his cheeks and sucked hard, his hand jerking him off at the same time to cover what he couldn’t fit in his mouth and the vibrations from the deep, proud chuckle of the younger sent shivers up his spine. He was just about to lose it completely, just seconds from coming when a sudden shuffling outside the door stopped their movements immediately. He slipped out of Jisung’s mouth with a soft pop and hissed loudly to the fright that exploded in his chest, the relief when the footsteps kept shuffling and the chaos in his mind when his friend just as quickly took him in his mouth again. It didn’t take long, despite their little scare and Minho only managed to whine out a soft “I’m coming” before Jisung let him go and he came all over his own abdomen and chest, back arching and a soundless scream leaving his lips while darkness enveloped him in warmth. “Come here” he whispered, still dazed out from the post-orgasm, jelly-like feeling that spread through his limb and Jisung smiled heartily, “It’s fine, hyung. You don’t have to” “I want to” he interrupted, a bit too blunt to be coming from him and would probably regret his own impatience if Jisung didn’t look like he did at the moment- way past horny himself, with his lips red and blood filled from all the work he put in while sucking the older off, hair dishevelled, eyes dark and heavy and fuck it, he loved him so much that he’d let the younger do anything as long as he could look at him with that fucked out expression every day. Jisung did as he was told without another word, a small blush on his cheeks while Minho grabbed a dirty tee from the floor and frowned with discomfort when he dried most of the cum off himself in the meantime. “Hyung, wait” Jisung placed his hands over the older’s when he reached up to pull down his gym shorts, He looked up, surprised, maybe even a bit disappointed but Jisung only nodded towards the door, “What if someone walks in?” He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “You think about that when I’m the one who’s gonna sit with my ass in the air and mouth around your cock” “Well, I just don’t- I don’t want the others to see you like that” Jisung explained and the older felt a bit stupid. Jisung was actually concerned about him as a hyung and the fact that the untold hierarchy of the house might change if anyone saw him in such a compromising position. “I’m doing this because I want to” he said simply and didn’t allow the younger to say another word before he pulled down his gym shorts and underwear. “Fuck” Jisung mumbled when Minho closed his hand around his cock, laid down comfortably and then took him into his mouth with one careful swipe of his tongue, It tasted like nothing he’d ever tasted before. Tangy, musky and but still exactly how he always imagined Jisung to taste like. Eager, trembling fingers immediately buried into his hair and he groaned loudly when the younger harshly pulled on it while he swallowed down more and more of him. “I wish you could fuck me next time, hyung. Bet you’d feel so good inside me” Minho choked slightly and swallowed hard to try and cover it up when the words slipped from Jisung’s mouth as if he talked about the weather, “You feel so good now too but-” he made a noise as if he was embarrassed but Minho didn’t dare to look and instead just closed his eyes while he sucked harder, pushed the other’s cock down further into his throat… “I want that hyung, I’ve wanted it for so long. For you to just bend me over the nearest surface and fuck me. I don’t care if the other’s see or hear. I just-” He inhale sharply and Minho recognise the shudder in his thighs because he did the exact same thing when he was close enough to almost taste the oncoming orgasm. “Don’t stop” Jisung moaned out, deep and desperate and thrusted up, carefully, into the older’s mouth, only stopping to push Minho away when he came all over himself as well, body spasming and eyes rolling back slightly. “I love you” Minho said, mindlessly, while wiping his mouth from spit, just as the younger opened his eyes again. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, not at all, and Jisung seemed to believe that it was a joke, “And I loved how you made me feel. Fuck, I needed that” “No I-” Minho paused and realised that he might as well be honest now when he’d already opened that can of worms, “I mean it. I love you” “What?” Jisung asked, disbelief in his voice while he tucked himself back into his shorts, fully confused now, “Yeah, in a totally romantic kind of way, for nearly two years now” “I love you too” Jisung answered, feeling a bit lightheaded but didn’t know if it was because he’d come harder than he’d done in months or because the sudden confession was like a breath of relief in his worried mind. Loving Minho had always been as easy as breathing and he never thought he needed a special moment to say so, but he guessed that this moment was as perfect as any, with the older’s body against his own, his laboured breathing, his flushed skin against his own, “I love you too” he said again, and gave his friend a big smile. He was just about to get up and plant a gentle kiss on the other’s lips when a small knock on the door made them both freeze up. “Are you two finished or?” It was Jeongin, a bit nervous and bothered from the tone of his voice and Jisung let out a gentle laugh while he felt his cheeks flush from embarrassment, made sure that they were decent and shouted back a, “Yeah, come in” “Dear god, guys, please open a window. I’m gonna sleep in here” the youngest complained and was met by laughter from the couple on the bed, “Sorry Innie-ah” Jisung sang, and Minho held onto his friend tighter, feeling the light feathery feeling of serenity rest upon him when he watched as Jeongin tried his hardest to not break the serious expression he forced on his face.

#stray kids han #stray kids lee know #han jisung #lee minho #minsung #stray kids fanfiction

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