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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

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I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

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griffintail · 3 years

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Hi! Can I request a fic where reader is a teen, and was part of the sbi family, but was manipulated by dream to work with him. Now that dream’s locked up, reader is really lonely, but Sam and puffy took them in and is raising them, but dream is livid and tells Sam to leave reader alone. Dream escapes and makes it pretty clear he’s after reader. You can choose hoe it ends. I’m a big fan of your work. Thanks! /gen

I-I went further with this than I planned. Lol. I hope you enjoy it!

The Sister’s Happiness

Pairings: SBI x Sibling! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Manipulation, Mentions of blood, Explosion, Mild Angst

Part 2

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

(Y/N) wished she could turn back time and never go with Dream.

He made her think so many horrible things about her…family. He made her do so many things against them. She thought he had been her friend, the only one that truly cared for her and understood her.

Now, she saw what he had really done to her.

He had separated her from those that had cared about her. After everything she had done…they’d never even what to see her again, she was sure of it.

She had helped Schlatt come into power by Dream’s orders, take Wilbur’s nation from him and Tommy.

She had kept hold of one of Tommy’s discs for Dream in case if Tommy tried to get them back, he’d have the wrong guy. She had also helped Dream and Techno blow up L’Manberg one last time.

She betrayed Phil and Techno by telling Dream where Techno was, using information she got from Phil.

She lost everything she ever once had and now she lost everything she had now. Dream had gone to prison and the time alone; she realized the mistakes she made with helping him. All she was now was…alone…

Time passed seemed to pass so slowly yet so fast around her as she tried to bring herself outside and be happy, but so many people hated her. She just knew it. Everyone would hate her as she had been Dream’s “friend”.

Maybe that’s why when she first managed to get outside, she decided to go to the prison. She knew Dream was bad and bad for her but she had no one else, so she went to visit him.

“(Y/N)?” Sam looked at her surprised as she came into the prison. “Where have you been?”

She rubbed her arm awkwardly. “I’ve been…just hanging around you know. So many friends to talk to!”

Sam knew she was lying.

“I came to see Dream.” She changed the subject.

“I…Don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam told her, remembering a promise…

“Come on, what am I going to do?” She rolled her eyes.

“Dream’s a pretty bad guy (Y/N), and you’re a kid.”

“I’m not a child!” She protested. “Just let me see the damn guy.”

“No, I’m going to insist you don’t.” Sam shook his head as he came around his desk. “Why don’t you go do something else?”

(Y/N) didn’t want to go though, she’d be alone again. Stuck in her own home, afraid of what the others would do. She had snuck her way to the prison already, she didn’t want to sneak across the whole land alone. She just didn’t want to be alone.

“No! Just let me see him! I don’t go back to the quiet fucking house! I don’t care if he’s the bad guy! Just let me talk to someone!”

Sam stopped in front of her as she took a step back realizing she had said all that out loud.

“I—Forget I said that.” (Y/N) turned for the portal, trying not to show her weakness.

“…Why don’t we go back to my base? I need a break.” Sam stopped her.

She stopped at the edge of the portal, her hand resting on the obsidian.

He’s trying to use you.

That voice was back, the voice of Dream that always controlled her. Her heart pounded as she clenched her hand before taking a deep breath and looking at Sam.

“Why?” She asked.

“Well, my place isn’t quiet, you might like the different change.”

Don’t listen to him. He’s not your friend, I am.

She clenched her hands in her pockets before giving an eye roll.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come to your stupid base.” She muttered. “But if it’s boring, I’m leaving.”

Sam chuckled lightly. “Sure, you won’t think that for too long probably, Puffy said she’s bringing me some cake and I’m willing to share.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up slightly at the mention of cake and Sam was actually a bit startled by the light in her eyes. He didn’t really remember a time when he had seen her with such a look in her eyes. Dream’s influence must have had a greater effect than anyone thought…

Sam put up his warden gear and had taken (Y/N) to his base, which rested far from the rest of the SMP land, so she was able not to worry about those that hated her finding her. She tried not to let the cool base affect her but it was especially hard when Fran jumped on her. She lost it after that and managed a real smile after a long time and pet the dog eagerly.

She played with the dog, running around the base, Sam joining the pair once he had taken a few moments to relax. When Puffy came, she was shocked to see (Y/N) laughing as Fran was licking her face, having knocked the younger girl down. As she had been so new to the land, she hadn’t seen her like this ever.

It made Puffy smile though as Sam shared the cake she had brought with (Y/N) as well. (Y/N) gladly dug in and it was a very different change from how they were used to seeing her. Is this what people used to see her as?

The two from there vowed to let her show her happiness. Dream wasn’t there to control her anymore and they wanted to make sure she knew that. That she could back to who she was and the people they knew she loved and they also knew still loved her…

“Why don’t we go to the SMP tomorrow?” Sam offered one day as (Y/N) was practicing her archery as Sam spotted her.

She lowered the bow, frowning, before aiming at the target again, getting a bullseye. “You want me to lose a life?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked confused.

“I helped do so many horrible things.” She took out a new arrow. “They’d want my head on a plate.”

“That’s not…”

“Sam, I helped bring down my broth—” She stopped looking away from him. “I helped bring down Tommy’s and Wilbur’s nation twice. It’s gone now. Doubt Tommy wants to see my face anywhere near him or the SMP.”

She aimed her bow at the target again and missed widely as she wasn’t focused, swearing quietly to herself as she went to retrieve the arrow as Sam sat for a moment with his own thoughts. Dream had really broken her faith in her own family…

…

“Hey, Sam.” Tommy stopped at the portal to leave the prison.

“Yeah?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Tommy’s serious tone.

“Can you promise me something?”

…

The next day, he did his day at the prison as (Y/N) and Puffy were having a girl’s day. Today, he had a mission though. He went to the main cell with his only prisoner.

“Sam. What do I owe the pleasure?” Dream grinned behind his mask.

“What did you do to (Y/N)?” Sam went straight to the point.

Dream chuckled as he leaned on the wall. “I made her useful instead of being the annoying brat she was.”

“She’s just a child.”

“So? She helped Tommy with his first “Disc War”.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t deal with two of the brats, so, I showed her what was better for her.”

“You took her away from her family.”

Dream chuckled, moving his mask to side to smirk at Sam. “And? She’s better off. I’m sure she’ll visit me soon too.”

Dream had banked on it. (Y/N) couldn’t survive without him. He had shaped her into the way he wanted and he’d use her again to escape.

“She wasn’t and she won’t, but I assure you now,” Sam smirked this time, making Dream frown. “She’ll bounce back. I’ll make sure of it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dream asked.

“She’s remembering how to smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her laugh.”

Dream stepped forward to grab the man but Sam moved out of the way. Sam was trying to further break Dream by showing him that he no longer has control outside these four walls and by the rage in the usually masked man’s face, he knew this could work.

“She’s just a kid and I’ll make sure she remembers that.”

“Leave them alone Sam. You’re not going to like it if you don’t.”

“No, I’ll make sure she can remember who she was.”

Dream tried to grab Sam again, but Sam tripped him down. The creeper hybrid crouched next to the man.

“You have no power. (Y/N) is safe now and I won’t let you take that from her.”

Sam left the cell with that and Dream growled as he clenched his hands.

“Time to speed up plans then…” He grinned wickedly.

Sam sat at his desk the next day, writing in a book when he jumped hearing an ear-splitting explosion as alarms blared off.

“FUCK!” He shouted, grabbing his trident as he sprinted for Dream’s cell.

Smoke was piling out before he opened the entrance to the cell and when he could see, he stood in shock at the gaping hole in front of him as Dream adjusted his mask, a sword gleaming in the sunlight streaming in and the fire piling around him.

“Sam. The man of the hour.” He grinned wickedly as a group of purple particles blinked out in the smoke. “Now, tell me. Where is she?”

Sam supposed he had to also speed up his own plans now too.

…

“Fran!” (Y/N) called as she held a lead.

She had worked with Sam on a schedule where she would walk Fran while Sam was at the prison. Fran ran up to her and she smiled tying the leash on the dog, leaving with her. They were about to do their usual route when Fran started to growl and (Y/N) stiffened, hand going to her sword.

“What is it?” She muttered.

She heard movement and she stood in front of Fran as she pulled out her sword.

Sam’s place was so far away. Who was here?

By the tree line, she saw a shadow come towards the edge and then out into the light…

“(Y/N)!” Ghostbur smiled.

“G-Ghostbur?” She sputtered.

She had met the ghost once or twice during Tommy’s exile but she had never been alone with the ghost of her…of Wilbur.

“I found you first. Techno said he’d find you because he’s a human GPS and Tommy said he’d find you first because he’s better! But I found you first.” Ghostbur rambled as he came over.

(Y/N) merely went pale. They were looking for her? Did they want to…?

“Phil told me he needs you for a sleepover at his place so come on.” Ghostbur smiled, holding out a hand to her.

“W-What? I—” She backed away, frightened.

She knew they must hate her but did they really want to hurt her?

“Oh dear. Do you need some blue?” Ghostbur asked as he went into his bag. “I have a few pieces spare!”

She was debating to go sprinting into Sam’s house when the tree line broke again and Tommy stumbled into the clearing.

“HA!” Tommy grinned as (Y/N) was deathly white. “There you are!”

He took a step to her but that was enough to frighten her to sprint towards the house only for her to scream as she fell on the ground seeing Techno coming walking out beside it.

“I—I—I!” (Y/N) sputtered, Fran, growling as the dog stood in front of her.

“Well, that’s not the greeting I expected,” Techno muttered as Ghostbur floated to the girl and held a piece of blue to her.

“Come on idiot. We need to go.” Tommy huffed to the girl.

“I-I’m sorry.” She finally let out, tears now falling down her face as she shook.

“For what?” Techno raised an eyebrow.

“E-Everything. I-I just—Please don’t hurt me.” She whimpered.

“What? Why would we hurt you?” Tommy looked at her confused.

“I-I helped Dream a-and…”

“You were manipulated by Dream.” Techno crouched down, glaring at the dog as it growled at him. “Yeah, sure, we use to hate you but.” Techno looked at Tommy as Tommy looked away. “We know what Dream’s like now. We know what he does. And now, he’s broken out of the prison.”

(Y/N)’s body stiffened now at the information as Ghostbur shifted nervously before putting the blue in the girl’s hand, which turned a deep blue instantly.

“Sam called us,” Tommy told her. “We got to go before he gets here. Techno and I…don’t agree on a lot.” Tommy looked at his brother before looking at her. “But we agree that you need to get to Techno’s and Phil’s so we know you’re safe sis.”

(Y/N)’s heart cracked as she heard the familiar nickname from her brother. The blue had given her enough clarity to hear Tommy’s words and it made her tear up more. Her…Her brothers didn’t hate her…

“We got go now. Dream could be here any minute.” Techno said, standing and offering a hand to (Y/N), Fran trying to snap at it but he growled at the dog and the dog backed off.

(Y/N) hesitated as she took his hand and Techno pulled her up.

“Let’s go.” He looked around before leading the teenagers, a dog, and a ghost away.

…

“You got to promise me that you won’t let (Y/N) see Dream,” Tommy said.

“What?”

“…I thought I hated her…I never really did but I always said I did. Now, I don’t hate her at all because now…now I know what Dream can do. You can’t let her in that cell with him. Promise me, Sam.”

“…Yeah, ok. I promise.”

“Thanks. If you see her…let her know I’d like to talk ok?” He smiled sadly. “We all miss her.”

“I will.”

…

Sam came to his base, beaten and bloodied but he was alive. His base was in disarray but that meant one thing, Dream hadn’t been able to find (Y/N). He smiled to himself. Puffy had gotten his message and gotten to the brothers.

He had planned on slowly introducing her back to her family to help her realize no one hated her but he had to speed everything up for her safety. He knew, there was no better place for her now than with her own family as Dream was on a war place to reclaim a piece in his game of chess.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #sbi x reader

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meliorist-midoriya · 3 years

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to you, to the world, to my love (you’re all three)

synopsis: midoriya has always had too much love to give in a world that loved to take. you’re just hoping that he has enough left for you in the end.

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst

warnings: some insecurity

word count: 2.5k

notes: happy valentine’s day, everyone! this is my contribution for the pocuties server collab, based off the greek types of love, of which i had the honor of receiving izuku and decided upon agape please help yourself to the box of chocolates they’re offering for valentine’s, there’s a wide selection of chocolates handmade by talented creators, so i’m sure you’ll find something to your taste! tbh i only managed to finish this fic because i was watching chan’s valentine’s vlive and i was in a super soft mood ;3;

extra: agápe - the ancient greek concept of selfless, universal love.

“Making his debut in the pro hero scene, Pro Hero Deku is blazing a trail straight out of UA—”

“—Pro Hero Deku solved an astounding 30 cases in the past month—”

“Deku’s popularity is skyrocketing, rivaling that of—”

“Hero Deku—”

“Deku—”

“Pro Hero Deku has swept the hero rankings to come out on top as Number 1!”

With a resolute ‘click’ of the remote, the reporters’ overlapping voices cut off as the TV screen faded away, your lonely reflection staring back at you from the blank screen. You, curled up on your empty couch, in your empty apartment with the clock striking what should have been dinner. The TV was only there in an attempt to drown out the crushing silence, the white noise—hellbent on filling the space his presence had left—was deafening.

That attempt failed.

Horribly.

If anything, it just made the sense of wrongness permeating the air even worse.

(That TV recap of his best moments didn’t help as much as you hoped it would.)

Being alone in this apartment felt… off. As if someone had gouged out what should’ve been there, the ghost of a presence settling a chill into your bones that ran far deeper than just plain loneliness. The foreboding grief of what could be, the fear that you’d resigned yourself to the moment you agreed to follow him on this path, the selfishness gnawing at your conscience every time you saw him run out the door to save the next person, to solve the next case.

Things like an All Might coffee mug sitting primly next to yours on the drying rack, garishly yellow “tufts” staring back at you with a cracked vengeance. (You’d apologized profusely to him that day, promising to buy him another one. He’d just smiled over his cracked cup of coffee, telling you not to worry about it for the hundredth time.)

Things like his haphazard mess of notes and scrawl spread out on the kitchen counter, the pen sitting next to the half finished page. (You’ve long since learned to leave his notes be, they’ll be tidied up once he’s done… if he’s ever truly done.)

The filled queue of movies and pile of DVDs you’d picked out together, giddy over plans to watch the next time he had a free night. (You remember pretending not to notice him trying to slip another hero documentary near the bottom of the pile, distracting you with talks of popcorn and the night that was supposed to be tonight.)

Deku. The man the world adored, clinging to his promise like a lifeline in times of need.

Midoriya Izuku. The man you loved, who promised you the world.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here.”

His soft promise echoed both in the battlefield and in your darkest hours, a close mirror to a hero of a generation past, yet it was different. It was his own. Comforting, personal, and wholly him. The public, weak and grasping for new support, latched on to the small sliver of hope his hand offered and he just kept giving, giving, giving. It never seemed to stop, and you were scared.

He was a man with a bleeding heart with all the love to give and more. To the civilians, to the villains, to anyone in need.

Now, you needed his promise more than ever. A reassurance whispered into reunions and the thousandth hospital visit, over fresh scars and searing kisses. A promise that he would come home. You didn’t want to think of all the times he came so, so close to breaking that promise, even before you two had made it, before you two had even promised yourselves to each other in your UA days.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around you, staring down at your phone with no real intent in mind as you scrolled. The video playing one of his interview clips (bashfully reciting his “catchphrase,” how cute) cut his voice short as you scrolled past to move on to the next, wincing at the next tweet on your timeline. Him, battered and bloody, as he pulled a child from the aftermath of the battle he’d just won.

You still need to wrap that new mug you got him as a gift. You still had to listen to him bounce his ideas off of you. You still had to move that hero documentary to the top of the pile. You still—

“Hero Deku saves 30 people, no casualties,” A soft murmuring of the headline shattered the silence, and you smiled to yourself, giggling at all the replies joking of how he threw himself into the fray a little more responsibly and singing their praises.

It’ll be okay.

“Ugh, those reporters are at it again.”

At your best friend’s exasperated groan, you followed their gaze over to see— ah.

A small swarm of reporters had worked their way into the fans crowding your boyfriend, their press badges reading every tabloid magazine on this side of the city and prying questions falling off their tongue like poison. From what you could hear over their overlapping clamoring, they were trying to dig into his private life.

Again.

Deku, the darling of the masses, all sweet smiles and sincere words amidst his strength. Deku, the number one hero with the tightest lock on his private life, which came as a surprise to both everyone and no one.

It was a given, considering his position at the peak of hero society.

It was also a complete shock, considering his tendency to ramble into tangents that had his PR team withering.

Which seemed to help in times like these, now that you thought about it, laughing to yourself as you watched the reporters’ expressions darken in defeat the longer he continued to talk around their questions. Quite a long stretch from stiffly standing on the practice stage at UA all those years ago, frozen from nerves. You idly mused to this to yourself, taking a sip of your drink as you dragged your gaze back over to your best friend.

“Did you choose this cafe because it’s right along Izuku’s patrol route?” They stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their obvious intentions.

“Maybe, or it could’ve been just a coincidence.” The next teasing jab was halfway off your tongue when they cut you off before you could give into the urge, the words dying in your throat. “When was the last time you saw him anyway? I know you two live together but Todoroki told me he practically lives at the agency with how swamped they are. Are you okay?”

You purse your lips, staring down at the ice swirling around in your cup as you idly stirred it round. As if the sloshing liquid could whisper the answer you wish you knew.

“...Yeah.” They cocked a brow, and you took another sip to try and delay your time. “It’s not like either of us can help it. Izuku’s number one, so this was bound to happen.”

(The clamoring from the reporters grew ever louder. Persistent, that bunch.)

Their expectant (doubting) gaze was met with your own steady one, and you smiled. Whether it was out of consolation or resignation was anyone’s guess.

“We’re okay, I promise.”

You should really be getting to sleep.

Really, you should.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past several hours, tossing and turning in your bed with nothing but winter-cold sheets and a gnawing loneliness to keep you company. You know you should be sleeping when the clock on the bedside table reads an ungodly hour and there was work to be done in the morning. You know you should be sleeping when the moon disappears from the night sky and leaves you with nothing but the city lights to dimly illuminate the dark room.

You really know you should be sleeping when you hear the front door click open, Izuku shuffling around the apartment to get ready for whatever minimal amount of sleep he’d get before he had to be up and running soon after.

Despite this, sleep still refuses to come, and you don’t bother pretending to be asleep when he slides into bed next to you. Instead, you turn over and curl into his chest, stifling the guilt that bubbles up when he jumps in surprise.

“Something keeping you up?” Oh, he sounds so tired, and part of you wishes you could just make it all go away. The weight of the world rests heavy on his shoulders, and deep down, you wonder if you’re part of that burden. You curl a little closer, as if trying to smother the thoughts that crashed upon you, spilling over the crack in the dam that only widened the more you spoke.

“Jus’ a little lonely, is all.” Your voice is too quiet, brittle, and you pray to every deity that would listen that he would drop it. That he wouldn’t take on yet another burden when he was already carrying Altas’s share of the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Of course, the gods are hardly ever so merciful—to them you are just another wishful mortal in the realm of the holy and damned—and Izuku’s hand rests on your cheek with a tenderness that makes you want to cry.

“...Why?”

The confusion that falls over his expression (gaunt, tired, and God, should you even be doing this right now?) is immediate, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze with yours, like he could find the answer in city lights dancing over your face. His thumb strokes soft patterns over your cheek—as if brushing off the layers you’d built to protect your soul—and you lean into his soft touch with a sigh.

“Why what?”

The words spill from your lips unbidden, your hesitations softened by the comfort of his touch, the sudden drowsiness, and the emotion that near overwhelms you.

“Why do you still try to do everything yourself? When there’s so many people out there, ready to support you?” His breath hitches in shock, but it’s too late to go back now. You reach up to hold the hand cradling your cheek, distantly remembering a time when he was too insecure of his scarred and crooked hands to even hold your hand.

He’s come a long way, indeed.

“I love you, Izuku. I just don’t know if that can hold up against your love for the world.”

Something in his gaze softens, to your surprise. His smile is even softer.

“What would you do if you’re both?”

“Wh— Izuku—”

He continues, and you listen, raptured by his words spoken into the glow of the blue hour.

“Yes, I know that at the end of the day, peace and safety has to come first, but—” His smile widens into something bashful, a smile that never failed to send butterflies scattering through your heart. “—who says you can’t be right along with them?”

He bumped his forehead with yours, smiling emerald eyes gazing into your own with such love—dizzying and overpowering and so, so warm. With the steady thrum of your heartbeat matching his, you found yourself falling even deeper once again.

“You know me, I can never compromise when it comes to what’s important to me.”

You laugh, something watery, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek, with a last, smiling kiss on your lips.

“How greedy.” He laughs into your lips, pulling away to hold you closer.

“Just for you.”

There’s so many things you could’ve said, as you watched the rest of the night sky fade into the deep blues of dawn. But, you decide, the comforting silence was best left as is, only broken by one resounding comfort.

It’ll be okay.

“You know, it would’ve been nice to know that you had taken the day off before I had that whole guilt spiral last night.”

“It turned out okay though, didn’t it?” He turned back to flash you that cheeky grin of his, half-hidden by his winter coat and backed by the glow of the setting sun. You just rolled your eyes with a laugh before jogging to catch up to him, slipping you hand out of your pocket to interlace your fingers with his.

“Yeah, it did.”

The walk was silent as you two strolled down the familiar path, winding down after a whole day spent with each other. It was romantic of him, now that you thought about it, to take the whole Valentine’s Day off just for you. You hummed as you leaned onto him, giddy and content at the thought.

In love, if you were to be so bold.

(Granted, he had to wear a mask and a cap the entire time to hide from the prying eyes of the public, but you made do.)

The sight of aged, familiar scenery pulled you from your musings, and you tugged at his hand to grab his attention, pointing at the quaint bench surrounded by bare gingko trees.

“Hey, wasn’t this the park where you confessed?” At your words, he froze and glanced over at the familiar scenery, eventually burying his face into his free hand with a groan once the old memories clicked in his head.

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s still embarrassing to look back on.”

“What? I thought you were cute!” You laughed, nudging him to follow as you led him over to the small park, brushing off the dust to sit on the bench before patting the space next to you. Izuku obliged, and you almost automatically curled into his side, as if by habit.

“Did we really walk all the way here from the station?” His disbelieving tone made you look up at him, his expression one of nostalgic awe, before casting your attention back to the aged scenery, humming in agreement as you idly picked out what’s changed and what’s stayed in the years that have passed.

“I guess we never really forget, huh?”

“I forgot the sunset looked the best from here.”

“I hope you didn’t forget all the memories we made here.” He tore his attention from the sunset to gape down at you, scandalized.

“Of course not!”

“Really?” He arched a brow at the teasing lilt to your voice and the mischievous grin playing at your lips, “So you didn’t forget accidentally firing an Air Force shot at me when we first met because you were training?”

He buried his face in his hands again with another embarrassed groan.

“I hoped you would forget that, at least!” You just laughed, hugging him closer as if to console him from your teasing. Before long, the atmosphere settled back into a quiet reminiscence, indulging in the nostalgia of memories past in this little park. The silence that was once deafening alone, now softened by the comfort of his presence at your side.

“We’ve made so many memories in this park, huh?” At your soft hum of agreement, he continued. Was his voice shaking? “It wouldn’t hurt to make more, would it?”

“What do you me—”

Your question cut itself short as you saw what he held out to you.

A little velvet box, sitting open in his hand. You dragged your suddenly watery gaze back up to Izuku, his once bashful smile now wobbly with nerves.

So familiar in this little park, yet so new.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was just a small walk down memory lane, the street lights blinking on one by one in the wake of the fiery sunset as you two walked the familiar path together. Yet there was something buzzing anew in the air, humming through your soul as you held out your hand to the sun, admiring the way the gem on your ring finger sparkled in the fading sunset. In the other, you interlaced your fingers with his.

Yeah…

You caught Izuku’s soft gaze, smiling and in love.

We’ll be okay.

#pocuties collab #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha oneshot #mha oneshot #bnha x reader #pocuties

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sokkisky · 3 years

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~please bunny come back to me~

Want to make a request?: https://forms.gle/NyZgUcqkCPzHRvVn6

Ghost School RP Discord: https://discord.gg/5mschvebTn

Rating: SFW (Angst to Fluff)

Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x Pro Hero Y/N

Warnings: Serious injury, arguing (tense words)

A/N: Hi you beautiful milky buds! How are you doing? I’m so grateful to have each and every single one of you. I have been getting so many questions lately and here requests are ALWAYS open. I do post DAILY. Just to clear some things up.

If you have a million ideas you want me to write, create a million requests I really don’t mind. Not to mention if you want a request for another anime, go for it! If I don’t write for that anime I will tell you. You’ll have the most luck with these to name a few

~MHA/BNHA

~Fairy Tail

~Haikyu!

~Blue Exorcist

To name a few. If you want to ask about another feel free to ask me! Today’s request reads like this.

Hi! Its me @megustaitachi again lol. I LOVED the request I asked you a few days ago, you wrote it SO SOFT AHH PRECIOUS😭💓. I want to ask you a question, if you don't mind I'll be here making request of my favs characters hehe, is there's a name we can call you? Obviously if you feel comfortable, I would like to know, thanks! *Now the real request* Can I request an scenario or a series*if u want* when Pro Hero Tamaki and his Pro Hero s/o have a fight and the next day y/n have a fight with a villain and they fell like in coma and Tamaki is sad because they didn't apologize for the fight but then y/n wakes up and they apologized and end up cuddling. <3 *yes, I love angst that ends in cuddles ⊂(・﹏・⊂)* Thanks! <3

<3 I said it last time and I'll say it again, I LOVE YOUR WORK KWHWOW💓🙌🏼

Thank you, thank you so much for this request! It’s so angsty ah my poor bby tama. Also you can call me Sokki! Sok, Milky, are a few of my nicknames too so I don’t mind if you call me those either.

I’m thinking I might make part two of this but I am not sure either. If you want one tell me though!

I love love love LOVE you guys and please please remember to take care of yourselves, be kind to yourself and treat yo self! You are worth it all, don’t ever forget how special and important you are! Now I don’t want to keep you waiting for too long, I hope this meets your expectations. Enjoy!

Part Two

“You shouldn’t have done that!”

You sat on the couch, your head in your hands as Tamaki frantically paced in front of you. You knew he was just upset, just worried, but there was no way you could’ve predicted the villain’s next move. You didn’t know that moving to the spot that you did would put you in danger.

“Tamaki I know I messed up! Let it go!” you finally shouted back. Your head rising from your hands. Tamaki stopped pacing and turned to look at you.

“Let it go?” he asked, his voice rising. “You nearly got yourself killed, like you were trying to hurt yourself.” he said, his voice shaky. He hated arguing with you. He hated it so much. He wanted to sit down and cuddle you, forget this ever happened but you could’ve gotten hurt!

“Oh I wanted to get hurt?” you said back in frustration, becoming a bit outraged. Tamaki nodded as both of your phones rang. You answered with a frustrated sigh.

Another villain was on the loose and they needed the two of you.

Being a pro hero dating a pro hero was hard, but being a pro hero fighting your pro hero significant other and then having to fight with them is different. You sighed, turning to Tamaki heading towards the door. He followed behind you.

“Are you gonna hurt yourself again this time?” he asked, annoyed slightly. You ran out in front of him, Tamaki following behind as you ran to the crime scene. “Watch out I just might, then you won’t have such an incompetent partner huh Tama?” you said sarcastically. Tamaki sighed.

“Wouldn’t that be nice” he murmured to himself. You almost stopped running and he could feel the regret sink in about what he said. You turned to him, opening your mouth to say something, but you ended up just shaking your head and continuing to run to the crime scene.

~~~

All you hear was Tamaki shouting out to you, “Bunny watch out!” as you shielded an innocent bystander before you were engulfed in a ball of blue flame, the fire exploded into a terrible blue explosion.

Your world went dark and you felt like you were in a void. You could feel rustling beneath you, you saved someone’s life, but at what cost? You fell back, feeling your back hit the paved road. Your eyes couldn’t open, they were closed. Your mouth, your lungs, gasping for air as you felt yourself slip. You heard voices,

‘Bunny! Bunny!’

You could faintly feel something on your shoulders. But then it all faded, diminishing into darkness.

~~~

Tamaki wandered the streets a bouquet of roses in his hand. Today was supposed to be your anniversary together. He walked, the rain beginning to lightly dribble down, his tears falling down his cheeks. He missed you, dearly, and he couldn’t get those horrible things he said to you out of his head.

2 months passed by now and Tamaki was doing mediocre hero work. Every day he’d look at your costume and hold it close to him, crying alone in your lonely apartment. The apartment the two of you shared.

He wanted everything of yourself. He kept it around the house, sometimes he’d go through your clothes, trying to see if any scent of you still lingered behind. He'd eat your favorite snacks and watch the shows and movies you’d like. Your apartment walls were covered in pictures of you, your Pro Hero merch was everywhere. Anyone would think he’d be a crazed super fan but he was just in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and apologize over and over again.

But he couldn’t.

His alarm went off on his phone and he quickly grabbed his jacket and threw on his shoes, rushing out of the apartment.

~~~

“Welcome back Tamaki.” the brown haired lady said. She clicked her fingers along her keyboard as she sat behind the desk of the hospital. “You know the way, and you’re here just on time. Visiting hours have started so go on ahead.” she said, giving him a small smile.

Tamaki nodded and made his way through the hospital to the ICU.

He made his way to your room, opening the door. You were hooked up to dozens of machines and monitors, many lines moving into your arms and chest. Tamaki was here every day he could be, but it didn’t get any easier. He realized he forgot the roses at home but it didn’t matter much. He pulled up a seat, sitting beside you like he normally did.

He rubbed your forehead and cheeks gently, tears rolling down his eyes. He felt the emotions bubble in him all over again and his head plopped down on your chest, his hands beside his head. He sobbed uncontrollably. His body shook as the blankets muffled his cries. The room had been changed for you, what with all of the plush blankets, soft pillows, plushies, and clothes he brought here for you. He brought you a switch even though you couldn’t play it. He bought a mini fridge and snack basket so he could fill them when you woke up.

But you weren’t waking up.

The pain in him was almost unbearable. His muffled apologies filled the otherwise quiet room. He couldn’t help it, not able to ever hold it in when he was next to you.

But then he stopped.

He could only feel it slightly but he sat up, his eyes going wide as he stared right into yours. He was frozen in place, was he dreaming? Your beautiful eyes were staring back at him. Tamaki remembered what the doctors told him what would’ve happened when you woke up. You’d be confused, not sure who he was or what was going on. Tamaki quickly rushed up and hit the button requesting a doctor. He sat back next to you holding your hand.

Your finger moved again.

You were back to him, and he wouldn’t let you go again.

To be continued...

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Disorder (Yuta x reader)

a/n : contains sensitive topic about eating disorder, do not read if it’s triggering or uncomfortable for you :”)

I do not personally support this topic, but last time I worked on this and I don’t know why I post this.. just tell me to delete this if this is too controversial I’ll take it down.

don’t force yourself

The dark cloud loaming on the sky is terrifying enough to make you crouch under your blanket as you mutter prayers so the lights won’t go out and the thunder won't surprise you.

However the cold feeling creeping on your feet and hands should be the real deal to worry about. You shake under the blanket, hiding more under the fluffy linen if that is possible. Your lips tremble, chapped lips, and icy blue in color.

You know he won’t like what he sees. Yuta will never like this state you are in, but no matter how much you want to stop it, you can't.

Your body refuses the tiniest amount of food forced into your mouth. It happened three months into your marriage with Nakamoto Yuta. World's famous idol, actor, heart stealer. Life was perfect with Yuta before the marriage announcement. You love him, he loves you… his members are all supportive about his relationship. You're healthy and Yuta loves you for everything you do.

That was until Yuta got his first major role in a drama. The drama won a lot of awards, thanks to your husband's wonderful acting skill as a mafia and the perfect chemistry between the doll actress and him. You need to admit you're jealous of her, but the problem doesn’t come from the actress nor from Yuta.

Your husband is still loyal to you, he takes the marriage vow seriously… you actually do not have to worry about Yuta falling out of love, you clearly can see his love grows more and more each day to you. It's already your second anniversary!

It was the fandom, the talk of the town, the tweets of the bullies that broken you. You know you're not the perfect girl to marry the oh so perfect Nakamoto Yuta. No, you're not ugly or fat. You're fit, you’re healthy, you look fresh. You have a bright smile, cheerful personality, and kind heart. You have your own charm, the glowing smile that makes Yuta bears with the harsh schedule every day. Your hugs bring his broken pieces back, and your laugh it makes Yuta realizes no matter how hard life is, he will keep striving for you.

But the comments of the web, of the unknown faces caught you. Crept slowly into your mind and ate your heart bits by bits on lonely night when you have to fake a smile over calls and videocalls with Yuta.

“(Y/n), I'm coming home In two weeks! The world tour is tiring, but it's worthy!” Yuta one night greeted you over video call. He was unwinding from the tiring show and you were getting ready to work in your own company.

You always put a smile to him, no matter how harsh the comments of the world is whenever people brought up Yuta's marriage with you. The comments are always about how unsuitable you are to be Mrs.Nakamoto.

At first it just hurts, but as you try to ignore them, you just think and think more about it. What if they're true. What if the world really hates seeing you by his side. What if one day you're just going to ruin everything Yuta worked hard for?

With Yuta's tight schedule with comeback and more drama, you found yourself sleeping by yourself and eating by yourself. The lack of companion after coming back from a tiring day makes you skip dinner and directly go to bed.

You thought, skipping dinner will not trouble you, Yuta won’t know and you'll just ignore the pain. You skipped dinner not to lose weight, mainly because you don’t feel happy eating alone. And this happened for a while. You don’t drink anti-acids even when you feel like throwing up at nights, you don’t feed your grumbling stomach when they beg for solid foods. No, you lost your appetite. For weeks, the only thing you have in the morning is just water, one small apple if you really cannot help it and on lunch you try your best to only consume little to none food. Did you lose weight? Drastically! Not in a healthy way, you're not proud of your body. No, this lost of appetite doesn’t make you happy. You don’t feel like living.

“(Y/n)-chan, have u had dinner?” Yuta called on his last week of tour. It has been almost four months since he left for the world tour. He'll have another one month away to finish the closing tour.

You lied and nod your head “Yes, what about you?” Yuta couldn’t see your dining table, you just put your face there.

“I am having breakfast! Anyways, make sure you're eating enough… your cheeks are gone honey!” Yuta looks concern, but his smile is still there coz he is always treasuring the short time he has to call and see you.

“Well, it's the camera maybe. Good thing right?” you try to laugh it off although you know you really lose weight.

“No, I love your glowing cheeks! Don’t tell me you're skipping meals" he suddenly opens his eyes wide.

You chuckle “No. Don’t worry Yuta.”

He grins “Then what did you eat? Why you never show me?”

You are taken aback “Uh I've eaten it.”

Yuta doesn’t give up “Next time, send me a picture okay so it feels less lonely! Gomen, I have to go rehearsal! Byee love you!” he closes the call after you bid him goodbye, goodluck and a love you.

You walk to the mirror in your room. Grimacing at your skeletal body. You were fit and now you look sick. Your skin doesn’t glow, your lips are chapped, and your hair looks dull. No matter how hard you try to bring your glossy hair back, the lack of nutrients won’t allow you.

You hate your current state, you look horrible. Thin body but with a very dull skin, pale lips, unlovely eyes. You look like a walking zombie. Your nail and hair vitamins did not help, the polished healthy nails are now chipped and broken.

You tried, eating some foods, but your body throws them back out. Your friend suggested going to the specialist, but you're too stubborn and shy to go. What if someone caught you on camera, what will the world say about Yuta? About you?

Yes some people know about you. Your wedding picture was published online, you were pretty back then! Some fans supported you, but after they realize how regular you were they started comparing and regretting their idol's choice.

You go to work with your big clothes, trying to hide your sick appearance but everyone in the company realizes you're not doing good.

“Yuta will hate me,” that’s all you can think about when you close your eyes and force your light head to sleep by yourself in the big room while wishing you can still see the sunlight and greet Yuta.

What you fear the most, happened.

Yuta got home to you, shaking so bad from the lack of food. You're working too hard and forgot all the meals. You only drink water, and Yuta got home from his tiring tour to find you laying almost lifeless on his bed.

“(y/n)?! What joke is this?!” he lightly slap your cheek to wake you up, but your breathing is slow and your eyes are heavy.

Yuta rushed you to the hospital and all you remember was the worried look he has once you opened your eyes.

“The specialist said this is not something new. For you to reach this state of disorder, they said it has been at least two years. Why have you never told me? Why?” Yuta asked first thing first when you woke up.

You cried, feeling bad to see Yuta this worried “Gomen, I'm stupid Yuta. I skipped dinner… and it became a routine.”

Yuta shook his head “You were lying to me…”

You cried, unable to deny him. He stayed silence and a tear fell from his face “Why do you lie? Why are you killing yourself? Do you not love me?”

You shake your head furiously “I love you yuta! I love you so much! But it’s lonely without you.”

Yuta trembles upon your remark. Is he the reason you're like this?

Yuta feels bad about your condition, he wants you to return to your healthy self but the doctors all tell him it will take time and patience and a whole lots of determinations!

The medics have to give you fluid foods which sadly you cannot deny. For a week you live from the liquid nutrients injected to your body and for the next month you're forcing yourself to consume food at least a real food.

Yuta takes a break from his promotion, making sure he is with you throughout the process. You feel bad for him, feel pitiful about your condition yet at the same time you hate yourself.

“It's awful Yuta.” You sob as you sit on the toilet floor, after barfing away your dinner once again.

“I'm just wasting food.” You desperately cry and Yuta's there to lend you his shoulder.

“No. Come on, it's not everything! At least your stomach is learning to work and digest again. Come don’t cry my beautiful princess.” He brings back the name he used to call you back on the younger days. You asked him to stop calling you princess after you get older and feel shy about the nickname.

But hearing that from Yuta's own lips, with pure sincerity when he is standing by your side makes you determined to overcome this together with him. For you and for him. For many more memories to make with him and for your future.

“Thank you, Yuta" you whisper before closing your eyes and leaning to his chest because you feel weak.

Yuta kisses the temple of your head “Always and forever my princess.” He hugs you closer to his chest and picks you up to carry you to bed.

“We'll get over this together okay?” You nod “Promise?” he shows you his pinky

You hook your pinky to his “Promise.”

“I love you not for how you look but for who you are.” Yuta slowly say that when you're falling into sleep.

You smile knowing this silly storm in your head will slowly fade with Yuta’s sunshine in your life.

end

#yuta angst #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #yuta x you #yuta oneshot #yuta fanfic #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #nakamoto yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta angst #nakamoto yuta imagines #nakamoto yuta scenario #yuta soft hours #nct angst #nct oneshot

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cherry-ber · 4 years

Text

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”

Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader

Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.

Genre: fluff mostly, angst.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.

A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how

After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.

An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.

Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.

He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.

He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.

“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”

He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.

“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”

The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.

After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.

On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.

Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.

“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.

“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.

“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”

She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.

“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”

“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”

She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.

“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.

“I'm Mark, by the way”

“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”

It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.

One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.

“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”

The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.

She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.

“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.

“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”

“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”

He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.

When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.

“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.

Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.

They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.

Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”

He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.

“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”

Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.

“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”

Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks

“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”

Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”

He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”

She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”

“Not the way I want you to”

She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.

“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.

“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.

Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”

“Drink water and have a painkiller,

I had to go home. Thanks for the wine

-Y/N”

Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.

With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”

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gritsandbrits · 3 years

Text

Chris Thorndyke: A Misunderstood Underdog pt 1 of 2

The Sonic franchise has no shortage of cool characters. But there is one who most people might not of heard of. His name is Chris Thorndyke and I'm her to defend his character from almost twenty years of slander! There are so many reasons to like Chris but I'll focus on some since the list would've been VERY long!

See, a lot of people only focus on the surface to not realize how relatable his character is. Despite being rich he's very down to earth, always willing to lend a hand or two to save his friend. I say friend because while he has many acquaintances, Sonic is the only person that truly understands him.

While Chris lacks powers and abilities, he is pretty stacked and the one responsible for funding the team's missions. His parents work long tiring hours as a CEO & actress respectively, yet somehow still has the time to be with him. By the time the show begins he's very lonely and sad because lately their workload prevented them from spending time with him.

So, with the help of his butler Tanaka, maid Ella, super smart scientist grandfather Chuck, and his friends from school, Chris tries to cope with his boring life. But all that changes when a certain blue hedgehog falls into his life...

Now I heard people say that Chris was being ableist to Helen in her introductory episode, but those people are SJWs who cannot fathom the idea that sometimes, disabilities needs to be pointed out to keep that person safe from harm. Chris pointing out Helen's disabilities was his way of protecting her from danger. She can't take care of herself, but his busy schedule leaves him with no free time to hang out with her. So he enlists his cool friend to help her!

Chris is clever, such as the time he defeated on of his friends during a fighting tournament by using his emotions to cause the other boy to let his guard down. He cleverly asked his mother to stay home to take care of him. He even called out his father one time, screaming thay he hated him for being a heartless greedy fool obsessed with toys over his own son! He has a lot more courage than what fans give him credit for. Too bad Cream couldn't see it.

One of the most defining moments of Chris's arc has to be the Shadow Saga! The boy literally took a rowboat to the dreaded GUN prison island! He bravely defied Tails's request to stay out, because Chris has the power to free Sonic and didn't want Tails to have all the fun. In the jungle he encountering Shadoe Chris tries to stop hom only to be teleported to the Ark. It's here one of his most iconic moments occurs.

Chris tries to restrain the violent Shadow, getting up every time as the angry black hedgehog attacks him. He refuses to be down for the count, so in a last ditch effort he started pleading for Shadow to spare Earth. Fervently reminding the Ultimate Lifeform to remember Maria's true wish. Amy tries to say something but is held back by Tanaka, as he realizes that his master is the only one that can save Shadow!

Chris did a way better job than Amy because if she did it, she would've come across as a hypocrite. Why would anyone want her to appeal to Shadow's better side when she herself has harassed Sonic and bullied her friends? Besides she has a hammer. Chris does not. He has to contribute to the action not by physical force but by using inner strength! Sure he gets his butt whooped by the same guy who allowed Amy and Rouge to touch him without any reaction (reinforcing my beliefs that they are Mary Sues) but it managed to break Robotnik's spell over him. While some may disagree, because in the original scene Amy redeemed Shadow as a nod to her storyline in Adventure, keeping her part in the anime would do very little to redeem her as a character. She was and always will be an obsessive stalker, the very thing Chris haters accuse him of.

In the last two episodes of S2, it's revealed that the two worlds are threatening to collide into each other resulting in a time freeze. The only way to solve this is by Sonic and friends going home. The news horrifies Chris because that would mean no more time with his boyfriend! Chris passionately argues against this, pointing out that the scientist's data was wrong because he's the grandson of a scientist and knows that kond op stuff better. Realising that everyone are in fact lying to him, Chris runs away to Eggman for help. He begs the villain to help but Eggman rudely tells him to leave, but not before insulting Chris for no reason! What a bully picking on a child like that! With nobody to trust Chris decided one desperate action...

At the portal, Chris and his friends and family have said their final goodbyes. He accepted that his beautiful blue lover will have to go. But what about their time together? Did that not mean anything to anyone? All the other children gets to have whay they want but he can't? After everything he's been through?

And so, to save the life of his only real friend, Chris pushed the button and closed to portal. He didn't care if it shocked his loved ones and the entire populations of two planets - at long last Sonic was saved!

This scene is said to be the reason why people hate Chris but come on he only pressed the button because he wanted to save Sonic! He was trying to save him from all those horrible liars that try to keep them apart! Besides he's a lonely preteen so you can't fault him for feeling that way. To further prove his love, Chris drags Sonic away to safety, running deep into the comfort of the woods. His ruthless parents send ou the military to kill their own child. In spite of the danger, all Chris wanted was to make sure Sonic was safe.

It wasn't until a heart to heart that Sonic is able to convince him to let him go. He even acknowledges Chris's bravery by addressing how he saved him from drowning; such an act inspired Sonic to do the same for Amy!

Chris Thorndyke really is misunderstood! So many people are so hyped up at calling him a Gary Stu or a spotlight-stealer when he is nothing of the sort. It's like they didn't even watch the anime! But I have, and I will be watching it again to fall in love with his character just as I did so many years ago!

If you something negative to say about him you will be immediately blocked! No exceptions! 😤

Anyways stick around for part 2 as I go further in depth with this amazing character!

#sonic x #sonic the hedgehog #essay #defense #chris thorndyke is overhated #tails and amy are overrated #sonic

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librapjmx · 3 years

Text

suddenly, it was love | sequel

summary: two years pass and you found yourself working on a new project for your company. seems like fate brought you and the people you wanted to forget back together

member: namjoon x reader | yoongi x reader

haven’t read the first part? here it is

Your new life in Norway was a pretty good start for you. A new journey, new adventures, and challenges were ahead of you. You knew that the language was one key barrier for you but soon you learned and studied hard to become someone, to earn money, and settle down. You started working in a company, sponsoring trips, concerts, and more. It was nice to earn enough money for food, clothes, and a roof above your head. At first, you considered staying for the rest of your life but as time passed by you found yourself feeling lonely and foreign, no matter how easy the living got in Norway. You sought for your home, your people, and most importantly the feeling of being at the right place, a place you call home. You promised yourself to leave Norway once your last schedule was done. After giving in your resignation letter, your chef insisted you be the last time a part of one of his projects. He prepared so well and waited for this sponsorship a long time ago and now, the chance is in front of him and he wants you to lead it and be in charge of this important project.

"Y/N, you know that you're one of my favorite and important employees. Without a smart girl like you, I wouldn't be able to handle all of this." The CEO stared into your eyes, his hands grabbing a black folder in which his next project was written in.

"This project has been in my sight for so long and it's just as important as you. I want you to be the leader of my last project. Do well, don't disappoint me, and good luck" he exclaimed as he handed you the black folder. It felt so heavy when it was just papered. The immense amount of weight you felt wasn't because of the folder but because of responsibility lies on your shoulders. You know how much your CEO trust and respects you. You won't disappoint him.

"I will do my best Sir" you smiled, standing up and turning around to leave his office. You sat down in your workplace, next to your coworkers as you dropped the folder on your desk. Opening an empty word document, ready to type in your schedule for your last project.

You grabbed the dark folder and opened it. You were met by the cover sheet of the folder. Once your eyes scanned the, you felt your heart race at immense speed while you clutched onto the folder. Mouth dropping wide open as your eyes darted on the words on the cover sheet.

"Project BTS" you read out in a whispering tone, a fond look on your face.

You weren't sure how to feel or what to do. Now, everything was getting so black, the people around you stopped moving an inch and at some point, you only were able to listen to your heartbeat. Wondering if it was anxiety or fear of having to face people you wanted to avoid. These two years away from your home were horrible for you and you felt how the pain of your first days after your departure came back. Days of crying horribly in your apartment were running like a movie in front of your eyes. The feeling of guilt and hatred. The feeling of being betrayed by life and hating it. You didn't even know what kept you alive and what helped you fighting against this cruel life. Of course, you didn't want to give up on your last project but the consequences of facing all of them were pretty clear. You closed the folder as you stood up. In no way were you ready for this moment. Even after your departure from Norway, you decided to settle down in a small area where nobody will know you.

Hesitantly, you knocked on the door of the office of your CEO.

"Ah, Y/N do you have any questions?" he asked, his eyes scanning the black folder in your hand. His eyes were intensely staring into your eyes as if he knew why you're in his office.

"Sir, I-" you stopped in your tracks and asked yourself. What if they already moved on? You felt a little selfish by thinking that after two whole years anyone will be emotionally involved with you. Thinking back, everything was still hurting but that doesn't mean that it was the same with them. Who are you kidding? You've run away once, you had no intention to run away again. If there is something to face, then this project must be destiny's work.

"Don't tell me that this project is too much work for you." His eyes were curiously scanning your expressions.

"I, I just wanted to let you know that I will put my everything on this project" you exclaimed, hiding your real intention of knocking on his office. He chuckled slightly, finding it pretty adorable that you had to come to his office for assurance.

"I rely on you Y/N, that's why I chose you" he mumbled, turning back to his worksheets. "Their departure is tomorrow at 8 am, don't forget to pick them up. I don't care if you accompany the chauffeur or if you send in the van, that's for you to decide" he said, looking back at you, "now, this project is yours. Don't disappoint me" he smiled widely.

You bowed down, "I won't" you smiled back as you turned around to leave his office.

You dropped on your seat, opening the folder as you read through the papers. No matter how much you reread the schedule you weren't able to remember anything since your mind drifted off. You were never a person to focus on other things at work but now, you couldn't help but think about him. You wondered how he has been and what he has done until now. There were times where you tried to catch up with the media and what was going on. BTS was a hot issue nowadays and you knew that they were doing pretty well as a group, but you wondered how everyone was doing individually. Especially him.

You called the driver of the huge van, letting him know that you were awaiting BTS in your office tomorrow. To be honest, you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to accompany him. Nonetheless, you told him to go alone. The manager of their group will assist with everything until they arrive safely. Until then you booked a hotel, with a good price, and in a safe area where they wouldn't get bothered by crazy fans.

The day went past, and you found yourself walking from corner to corner in your small office which your CEO made accessible for your last project. Your heart started beating crazily and you were afraid that you would collapse any minute. Regretting your choice of not giving up on this project and leaving the country earlier made you feel irritated. You weren't sure how to react. Of course, they knew you. What about acting as if they're strangers? That's too cruel.

Just as you thought about escaping the whole situation, the knock at your office door brought you back to reality. You took a deep breath as you shut your eyes. It's time ...

The door opened, and you were greeted by the manager of the group, smiling widely at you as the boys came in one by one. Once their eyes locked with yours, their mouth dropped wide open. You were standing right in your position unsure of how to react or what to do. Trying to put on a smile was harder than you thought since your lips were locked in their place, not moving or reacting just like your body. Your heart skipped a beat as the person you longed for entered the room, not even looking up.

"Y/N!" you heard a familiar voice call out for you. Your head moved in the direction where it came from. Yoongi's eyes shot open as he looked up, staring at you a little shocked but also relieved. Jimin started smiling widely as his body moved in your direction, his arms wide open, greeting you with a firm hug. You were startled, still didn't move as you stared into the eyes you longed for staring at in the past two years. In no way was he thinking differently. His gaze didn't leave yours and for the first time of the day, you felt your lips curl up weakly. He didn't return the smile, instead, he dropped his gaze, ignoring your presence in the room.

"Wow, the world really is small" Jimin chuckled as he leaned back and looked at you.

"You've disappeared without telling any of us, without even saying goodbye" and you were kind of confused as these words left the mouth of Hoseok who was now greeting you with a warm hug. Yoongi hasn't told them about your departure.

The rest of the boys came in, hugging you except for Namjoon and Yoongi who stood in the room awkwardly. You bit your lip, looking down at your fingers.

"I needed a little time off for myself-" you whispered, returned by a giggle.

"The little time you're talking about expanded to two years, little girl" Seokjin exclaimed his finger pointing at his left wrist, acting like he was showing you the time. You smiled softly at him. You wondered how they can be so nice to you after all that happened. They must've figured out that Namjoon and you broke up already. What about you and Yoongi, do they know?

You exchanged the schedule dates with their manager before he left to make some arrangements. You were left alone in your office with the boys. They sat on the sofa while you told them about their upcoming schedule for the whole week. You even started talking about how you have been these past two years and what happened. It felt like time rushed as you found yourself getting a little tired but not wanting to leave since you missed them all so much.

"Whoa Y/N, you're still so organized as I remember," Jungkook said which you chuckled at.

"So how come you're still in Norway, don't you think about returning home?" Seokjin asked and you saw how the heads of Namjoon and Yoongi popped up, feeling their gaze on you, you sighed.

"I don't know" you lied, not wanting them to know that once they leave this country you would leave it as well. They were quiet as you noticed how the boys gazed between you and Namjoon. Clearly, they had no idea about you and Yoongi.

"Well," Taehyung broke the silence, standing up, "I think we will make our way to the hotel. The flight was so exhausting" you nodded, standing up as well.

"Do that, you will need your rest" you assured as you walked them to the door, feeling that a member of them hesitated to leave the room. The boys were giving each other some hints as they disappeared, closing the door behind them. You turned around and approached your desk as you heard the knock on the door, turning to face the one who wanted to enter your office.

"Y/N" the voice sent a shiver down your spine and the fact that you had to look into his eyes was making you feel even more nervous. He closed the door behind him as he approached you slowly, hesitating to wrap his arms around your body since you backed away, signaling him to keep his distance.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, his hand reaching out for his neck as he bit his lip, "How have you been?" Namjoon cleared his throat unsure of what kind of conversation he can start with.

"Well, I've been doing pretty well" you lied, putting on a weak smile. You weren't as nervous as he approached you anymore.

"That's a relief..." an awkward silence was starting to fill the room and you wanted him to leave the room. Not because his presence was making you uncomfortable, but the silence was making you feel uneasy and awkward.

"Look, I-" his eyes sparkled and you were afraid of his words.

"I don't want to feel awkward or like a stranger next to you. I know that we broke up a long time ago but that doesn't mean that we've never known each other. I don't want to force you to come into my life again, I just want you to know that you're still special to me" he smiled, his dimples showing in the dimmed light of your room.

"I believe it's a miracle that fate decided to let us meet again. I believe that there must be a second thought to that, or maybe even a second chance" his eyes stared intensely at you and you wondered how he came to this conclusion within some hours.

"I know you might think that I am acting pretty fast but within these hours of only listening to your voice I had to get this off my shoulders. Y/N you left without any word and without letting us share a conversation like two grown people. I was getting sick of trying to reach out for you. But look there, fate made us meet again" his hands reached out for yours as he grabbed them firmly while locking his eyes with yours.

"Namjoon I-" he cut you off, not letting you talk in any way.

"Please don't say anything. I don't expect anything from you, I just want you to know that I didn't forget about you" he said, a soft smile was plastered on his face as he continued, "We'll leave after a week and I just wanted to make my point clear to give you enough time to think" he sighed deeply as if he was throwing off the weight from his shoulders.

"See you tomorrow then" He let go of your hands and turned around to leave the office. At that moment, you felt the ache in your heart. The feeling of betrayal and disloyalty towards a person you respect a lot. You didn't know how to react. His words were soft with affection, but they didn't affect you the way, you thought they would affect you. What exactly was he expecting from you? And why did you expect these words to come out from someone else's lips?

The past days went by pretty fast and you showed BTS gorgeous places in Norway. They had the opportunity to meet some fans and enjoy themselves. You were close again to the people you loved being with. You were able to have a conversation with every one of them, including Namjoon who was trying his best to be next to you. He talked to you, joked around with you and you forgot about your worries for a moment but then you found yourself staring into the distance, wondering why things ended like this. Yoongi clearly doesn't care enough for you and you were afraid of facing him again. You had no interactions with him at all. All he did was taking pictures with his huge camera, avoiding you, and only talking to his band members. Maybe he was doing it right. If you would've spent another minute with him, you would've fallen in love with him again. Was it love that blossomed again or was the love still in you, waiting for a sign by the person whom your heart belonged to?

"Y/N" Jungkook called out for you from the roof of a huge building. You started laughing wholeheartedly as you looked up, seeing how he started to dance to one of his choreographies. Showing him your thumbs up you clapped your hands together. You couldn't help but feel the intense gaze of someone on you. Slowly, you turned your head and looked in the direction of Yoongi who was pointing his camera in your direction. Caught off guard, he dropped his camera as you made eye contact with him through the lenses. The camera made contact with the strong asphalt of the road, the voice of cracking material filling the area.

"Ow shit, that was the sound of money cracking my ears" Jungkook shouted from above. You approached him, not knowing how but your feet guided you in his direction. He kneeled to pick up the parts of his now broken camera. He started picking up the parts even faster, not paying attention to what he was picking up since he felt that you were coming closer. The scent he promised to never smell again was touching the tip of his nose. Just as you were about to approach him he stood up and brushed past you, leaving you alone, hurt and confused. You wanted to keep on walking when you heard a dimmed crack under your feet. Moving your feet, you looked down as you faced the memory card of his camera. You kneeled down to pick it up but just as you wanted to call out for his name, you noticed his absence. Putting the memory card into your bag, you decided to hand it to him tomorrow.

At home you found yourself throwing yourself onto your bed due to exhaustion. Two more days were left, and you were excited but also sad to finish this project. After spending more time with the boys, you were sure about your departure from Norway. Seoul was your next destination and you promised to rent a place far away from the boys but still trying to keep in contact with each one of them. Just as you wanted to shut your eyes, pictures of Yoongi in front of you were appearing in your head. The way he concentrated on taking the pictures, getting the right angles, and moving the camera rightfully. At that moment, you wondered how the pictures he took were looking like. In no way did you mean to spy on him, it was just the curiosity that wanted to have a detailed look at the pictures. These pictures were a part of his personality, a part of him, and even though he ignored you extremely and acted as if you weren't there, you couldn't help but think about him even when he is present. You couldn't stop your heart from racing when both of you came closer and you couldn't stop your heart from aching once the closeness went to distance. You were still madly in love with the guy who was unapproachable for you.

You plugged the memory card into your laptop as you waited for the folder to open excitedly. Clicking on the folder you pressed on the slideshow, wanting to stare at these masterpieces in one go. The memory card contained a lot of pictures from the past days in Norway. The landscape, his members, and ... you? You furrowed your eyebrows as your pictures were displaying in front of you. The way you stood next to the members, talked, joked, or laughed with them. Others contained you smiling widely, playing around by yourself. You haven't noticed him taking pictures of you and it kind of made you feel special. You didn't notice how the tears started forming in your eyes. Tears of joy or was it tears of sadness. The feeling of wanting a returned love story. Just as you wanted to close the folder more pictures started displaying. These weren't pictures from past days no, they took place two years ago. While you were in a relationship with Namjoon still. At that moment, you realized how often he carried his camera while you all went out together. You were so focused on Namjoon that you've never noticed it. You felt ashamed and so sad that you weren't able to see all of this back then.

Soon you found yourself lying on your bed while crying yourself to sleep. How much you wished his arms to surround your fragile body, whispering comforting words into your ear while caressing your hair softly until you fall asleep. The night was pure torture for you.

The next day you met in your office, telling them about their upcoming trip to a famous area in Norway. Today was the last day before their departure which will take part tomorrow in the early morning. The boys decided to get ready in their hotel rooms and you accompanied them, telling them that you will wait in the lobby. Yoongi was eyeing you suspiciously as if he knew that you had something that belonged to him. Of course, the memory card was still lying in your hands and you found yourself staring down at the memory card. You wanted to ask him about the pictures but were afraid of his answer. Afraid that he will give you the answer you wait for. Even though you set your point two years ago, you still had a glimpse of hope that his feelings towards you didn't vanish completely. Why else would he still keep all of those pictures from you? Or maybe you're just overanalyzing it. There must be no meaning to that.

Someone cleared their throat behind you which made you jump from your thoughts as you turned your head to see Yoongi staring questioningly at you. His gaze dropped down to your fingers which were holding the memory card firmly between your fingers as if you were afraid to lose it. You stood up and shook your head as you approached him slowly.

"You-" this will be your first conversation after two years and you were unsure of how it would end. Will it is small talk, or will you hand the memory card to him, and without any words, you will part again?

"You dropped this yesterday and when I wanted to hand it to you, you were already gone" hesitantly you held out the memory card, hoping that he will take it and stay. So that you will be able to listen to his voice. He nodded his head, a weak smile plastered on his lips which made your heart explode and you were sure that the feelings towards him haven't left your heart. Your body still tensed up next to him, you felt rebellious as if your love towards him was to hide. His hand reached out for the memory card, fingers brushing softly your hand as he grabbed the card. The moment your fingers touched, you felt the blood rush through your veins, pumping your heart and shading your cheeks in light pink. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but then he decided to shut his mouth again. He was about to turn around when you held him back.

"I saw the pictures," you said with simple directness. He stopped in his tracks, turning his face towards you as you saw his cheeks getting red while he tried to avoid your gaze. Both of you stayed like this for a couple of minutes and only looked at each other without saying anything. Again, he was about to turn around when you called for his name.

"Yoongi-"

"Y/N-" he started, and your heart made a small jump as his voice filled the air. It felt like he took his courage together and finally wanted to talk. But just as he wanted to go on, he was cut off by his younger member calling out for your name.

"Y/N today is our last day, we have to at least have a nice dinner together" Jimin exclaimed, approaching you with his other two bandmates Hoseok and Namjoon. You turned your face to Yoongi who smiled weakly as he turned around. As if he found it ridiculous to even try to have a conversation with you.

Through the years he felt like he was getting weaker. Each day he found himself hurting since he lost something precious in his life. He never got used to your absence and the possibility of you never returning again. That's why forgetting you were even harder. He tried to make clear that the reason for your separation was disloyalty but no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that reason, he thought that your whys and wherefores were just illogical and stupid. He tried to put the blame on you, tried to hate and detest you but each time he tried to, he found himself in more pain than he was when he just lived on. Hating you was never on his list and ignoring you was just something he couldn't do.

Smiling at the bandmates, you nodded, seeing that Yoongi was already distancing himself from you. "Let's do that. You chose, where and what time. Send me the location and I will be there" you already forgot that you were the expert in Norway and that the boys were rather like tourists. Yoongi left the lobby from the exit and you ran his way, opening the door only to find busy people, walking on the street. No signs of him. You sighed as you turned around to walk up to the others.

"Can we leave?" Namjoon asked and you nodded, wondering where Yoongi left to.

"Where is Yoongi?" you asked as you looked around. The boys shrugged their shoulders. Just as you wanted to search for him a deep voice behind you called out for you.

"I'm here" he mumbled deeply from behind you. You shut your eyes, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Nodding, you just went on the last trip to a famous area. The last day was rather timid and you wondered how the thing would go after returning to Korea. Today you only had eyes for Yoongi and you didn't care about the others. He felt the same way. Because this time he didn't ignore or distanced himself from you. Even though you barely talked he felt like he had to justify himself for the pictures he took of you and he wasn't sure what kind of reaction you had to the pictures. Over the course of the day, he found you sitting on the bench all alone while the boys went to McDonald's getting hungry really fast. You just wanted to sit down and wait until they finished eating their junk food. Suddenly, you saw Yoongi approaching you slowly as you leaned back slightly. He sat down next to you and sighed, his hands on his lap as he stared into the distance. Your heart started beating faster the more the silence grew.

"Y/N..." he started, still not looking at you. "About the pictures yesterday-" he started, trying to form the right sentences.

"Yoongi-" before he talked further you cut him off. "I saw them all-"

"And?" he asked, his heartbeat increasing, the fear of his dreams shattering with only one simple word. Just as you wanted to answer, you got interrupted by the maknae of the group, calling out for you two. You let out a sarcastic chuckle, finding it ironic that you always get interrupted by someone.

"I wonder if we've been a target for a curse. We must've been cursed" you chuckled, slowly, pulling a stain of hair behind your ear as you watched him carefully. He just smiled cheekily as his gaze dropped on his fingers.

"Every curse breaks one day" he smirked, seeing that the maknae was distracted by Hoseok as he turned his face to you.

"In fairytales only" you sighed as you turned your face from him, looking into the distance in front of you.

"How do you know?" you felt him staring intensely at you while you started fidgeting with your fingers on your lap.

It felt different, sitting next to him after a whole year. After slowly, getting used to the idea of not being able to see him. Not letting go but accepting him not being around. Even though, you missed his scent and his presence you couldn't help but think about the reason for you two not being able to be together.

"I don't know but, when I look at us I can't see a happy ending at all" you clarified as you still didn't look into his eyes, afraid of melting away once the words leave his lips.

"We haven't seen the end of our fairytale to jump to conclusions now. Maybe there will be an end full of surprises, huh" he chuckled and you wondered how he was able to be all positive in that situation. Actually, he was amazed by how he handled the situation. Because this time he wanted to make sure to state his point. This time he was aiming to not lose you.

"You're afraid" his gaze was burning on you and you felt the heat rising up as the tension grew.

"I am" you admitted.

"Don't be" He leaned his back as he breathed out quietly –"as long as you tell me to be distant I won't make a move on you and I will let my mind control my heart." He pointed from his mind to his heart. He didn't know where the courage came from and sure didn't want to stop in his tracks.

"Until I'm able to look into your heart. But if what my heart is telling me is true. If there is even a glimpse of hope for us-" he was cut off by you calling out for his name, trying to stop him to talk further.

"Yoongi-" but he jumped in and ended his sentence fast as he leaned in, your face inches apart that you were able to hear and feel his breath.

"Then even you won't be able to stop me" he finished, making you look up and stare forcefully into his eyes as he went on- "if you didn't forget me and my feelings." Your eyes landed on his, staring deeply into his soul, knowing that just like you he still didn't let go.

"Because I still didn't forget about you." He clarified as he leaned back again to put his hands into his pockets, staring into the distance. With that he stood up from the bench, turning around to you one last time as if he was waiting for your answer. You were afraid of answering, afraid of giving him hope and then letting him down again. Because no matter how much you want to throw your arms around his neck, your guilt stops you. Guilty because of your disloyalty towards Namjoon. But again, an inner voice was calling out for you. Calling out for his name.

Just as he wanted to walk up to his members you stood up, stopping him.

"I haven't" those words left your lips faster than one can count to two. His head turned to the side, eying you from the corner of his eyes. "I haven't forgotten about you..." you sighed, stepping closer, "about us" you admitted, only letting your heart take control over your feelings and words. You saw the ends of his lips curling up as he walked away from you, trying to hide his euphoria at your words. Suddenly, he was a different person. Someone who was more cheerful than ever. Somehow, both of you confessed after such a long time. Even though it wasn't a real confession. This time you wanted to hold onto him, overgo all the stations in your path, together with him.

The night was approaching, and you made yourself ready for the last dinner with the boys. Putting on a decent and modest dress. As if you were going on a date with Yoongi. Even though the others were joining, you knew for sure that you had only eyes for him.

Sitting down on your chair you waited for the others to arrive and as the time passed you found yourself feeling more anxious. Being dressed fancy but sitting alone in front of a big table was reason enough for you to get pitiful glares.

Just as you wanted to grab your phone to call them a warm hand landed on your right shoulder from behind, making you turn around. The smile faded slowly as you saw Namjoon standing in front of you, all alone.

"Where are the others?" you asked, staring behind him, hoping that the others will eventually come after him.

"They take a little longer with packing" he scratched his neck nervously as he smiled faintly. Without saying anything further he sat down next to you.

The waitress came asking for your order. Namjoon leaned back loosely as he ordered his food. The waitress stared at you, waiting for your order.

"I won't order until they arrive," you said, smiling back at the waitress who left. A couple of minutes went by and Namjoon's food was served. He didn't touch anything but rather stared at you, deep down waiting for you to say something. He sighed as he leaned forward to be closer.

"Actually Y/N," he started, biting his lips since he was unsure if he should really be honest right now. He chuckled, feeling uneasy and silly for what he was about to say, "The boys won't come" he admitted.

"What?" you mumbled, hoping that you heard wrong.

"I told them to not come because I wanted to spend time with you" he stopped, his eyes locking with yours, "alone" he finished his sentence.

"Why?" was the only thing that left your lips.

"Y/N, do you remember our first day in Norway? When we talked in the office together. Well, I talked." His hands were reaching out for his neck as he rubbed it slowly, this time afraid to look into your eyes. "I told you that you are still special for me and that I wanted to give you time to think about all of this" The atmosphere filled with a cold breeze of air and you felt your heart break apart while the tears made its way up to your eyes.

"Y/N-" his hands grabbed yours and your heart jumped. Afraid of giving him more hope. As if it was a reflex you pulled your hand away from his grip. His smile faded.

"Namjoon, I-" he cut you off.

"Is it because of him?" he gritted his teeth and your eyes widened at his words.

"Wha-" again he interrupted you, his hand balled into a fist as he hit the table with it, making you jump in shock. People were starting to look at you, but you couldn't care less. He was waiting for your answer, waiting for you to deny it but you were silently staring into his soul. He stood up angrily, making you wince as your heartbeat increased. You realized where he was heading to and soon you stood up and ran behind him. He was in a rage, blood shooting out of his eyes as he focused on the road while walking.

"Namjoon, please listen to me-" you grabbed his shoulders over and over again, trying to stop him but his fury was bigger.

"What?" he shouted, stopping in his tracks suddenly, making you take steps back, afraid of his sudden movements.

"Was it fun? Was it fun to break my heart?" he yelled, his eyes filling with tears. "Do you think that I haven't noticed the atmosphere between you and Yoongi? Do you think I'm blind to not see the way you were looking at him? Nonetheless-" he raised his finger, biting his lips as he shut his eyes, "Nonetheless, I had hope in me. Hope that you still loved me" he wiped away his tears as he took a deep breath.

"Y/N" his hands reached out for your face as he pulled you closer, his forehead leaning in on yours, "I loved you so much... why?" he asked and you weren't able to form words.

"I'm so sorry Namjoon" you repeated endlessly until he pulled away. He wiped away his left tears as he stared at you seriously, stepping back and turning around.

"Wait Namjoon, it's not his fault! Please listen to me" you ran behind him but he pushed you away with his arm extending, making you step back. He didn't even listen any further as he left you in the middle of the night all on your own.

He was rushing into the hotel, knowing that the boys were still awake, waiting for Namjoon to arrive with good news. That wasn't the case. Furiously he opened the door to the room, storming inside as he threw his jacket away. Surprisingly, no one was in the room. Maybe they went out but at that moment he heard the noise of a running TV and he figured that the boys left except Yoongi. From behind he saw him watching TV carelessly and it made him mad.

„Seems like you love to take old things of mine" Namjoon scoffed at his older member as he took the remote on the couch to turn off the TV. Yoongi was surprised at the sudden movement and entry by Namjoon.

„What's that mean?" Yoongi hissed, knowing exactly what he meant.

„You know exactly what I mean" Namjoon mumbled, not wanting to have a conversation with him at all. Yoongi, the angry person he was, walked up to him and grabbed the remote.

„If you're able to start a conversation then you should be able to set your point and finish it" he exclaimed, arms crossed over his chest. Namjoon ignored him as he sighed, leaving Yoongi by brushing hard past him.

Yoongi chuckled sarcastically and looked down, knowing that his member was still in the room. „Glad to know that you're treating Y/N as equal as ‚things'. Had no idea you were looking at here in an objective way" he knew that he touched a sensitive spot of Namjoon. He was rather boiled with anger as he turned around and stepped closer to Yoongi, grabbing his shoulder harshly and turning him around.

„I never said that Y/N was an object" he pushed Yoongi but all he could do was smiling slyly.

„You surely treated her as one by your statement" Yoongi was calm, knowing that it will piss the younger one-off.

„Just because you know I'm right you try to change my statement the way you find it pleasant" Namjoon pointed at his chest as he pushed him again.

„What will you do, huh? Y/N loves me, not you" he called out as Namjoon wanted to return into his room.

This one was too much for the younger one to handle as he ran up to Yoongi and grabbed his collar.

„You bastard! You knew that Y/N and I were happy and just because you couldn't fulfill your life with the happiness you decided to destroy mine" his face was too close for Yoongi to handle and he simply grabbed the hands of Namjoon to loosen them and push him back.

„If it wasn't for your ignorance toward her then you would be able to say that but believe me you hurt her so much with your behavior that you don't even deserve to decide if she was happy by your side or not" he bluntly said being really relaxed.

„Y/N belongs to me Yoongi and this will never change. I know that she is just confused because you took advantage of her! She will forget you soon!" he chuckled sarcastically, making Yoongi angrier even though he tried to prevent himself from showing his anger. „Look, you're being a pain to my ass. I would be happy if you would just disappear" Namjoon finished his statement, followed by a hard push against Yoongi's chest.

"I can't believe you tell me these harsh words. She sure isn't confused Namjoon. Face it! You were a jerk and now you have to pay for it" he chuckled and rolled his eyes as he wanted to brush past his member, but Namjoon grabbed his arm and turned him around, pushing him at the wall.

„Y/N is mine!" he gritted his teeth, coming closer as he was ready to fight with his member.

„Oh is that so? Then let me change that quickly" Yoongi smiled slyly, the boy was in a rage, nothing could've stopped them two as he leaned in closer to Namjoon, „Do you want to know what happened between me and Y/N after you broke up? Do you want to hear what she told me this afternoon? Do you-" just as he wanted to finish his sentence he was pushed against the wall, Namjoon fisting his jaw as he hissed in pain.

„I won't hurt you, Namjoon" Yoongi held his jaw as he looked up at his younger member who was burning from anger, his eyes darted on Yoongi as he wanted to run up at him and hit him again. Just as he wanted to walk further, he felt a tight grip on his wrist and a familiar voice calling out for him, telling him to stop.

„Please", your voice cracked as you sniffled softly, staring at the two in front of you in disbelief. Namjoon relaxed as soon as your grip tightened around his wrist. Yoongi eyes you in shock as he took a deep breath.

„What the hell are both of you fighting for?" you questioned even though you knew exactly the answer because you were listening to the conversation since the beginning.

„Hell, that's exactly what I wanted to avoid and you two are making it even harder for me! I, I just wanted both of you to be happy" tears were streaming down your face, you loosened the grip on Namjoon's wrist and wiped away your tears.

„You two are freaking brothers how can you fight over such a silly thing? Is it worth giving up on your friendship?" you asked, both of them were staring directly at you and were concentrating on your words.

„Yes, I was disloyal Namjoon because I fell in love with your best friend, your brother" you wiped away the tears as you stepped closer, „But believe me we never cheated on you. We both fell for each other without bad intentions and it ate us up that we weren't able to hold each other. Even if that feeling of having each other was astonishing, there was always a spot in our hearts which were hurting because we thought about you, about your feelings" you said in a brittle tone. Namjoon was hearing his heartbreaking as he figured that you were already gone from his love.

„I never wanted to lose any one of you two. Namjoon, not even you and you might think that this is stupid but I wanted you as my friend." you chuckled slightly as you turned your head to the side, „That's pretty selfish of me, right?"

The room was filled with silence not one single word left the lips of the boys.

„I never wanted to betray you or play with your feelings and I apologize wholeheartedly if I did, I just sinned and couldn't control my heart" your eyes looked up to meet the ones of Yoongi who gulped hard, afraid of your next move, afraid that you will decide to leave again.

„My heart ate up my rationality as I held his hands, it told me that it was okay because it was love. I wanted to fight back, fight the urge to let myself go next to him but I couldn't and I hate myself for that" you whispered the last part as you stepped closer again, both eyes locked on your face.

„I hate myself for ruining a friendship" your voice cracked again, fighting the urge to cry even harder.

„But we can't decide who we fall in love with" you shook your head. One last time you stared into his eyes as you stepped back, wiping away the left tears.

„From today on I won't bother you two anymore" confessing was a bad idea and you should've given up the project from the beginning.

„I'm so sorry for the pain I caused. I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me but please forgive each other" you turned around with your last words, afraid of hurting them more by staying.

Not even an hour passed and Yoongi found himself in the living room, head hurting and heart aching from the pain of a never fulfilling love story. He always thought that this kind of love was only existing in movies but that was the first time he believed in love and the power of that certain feeling towards someone.

Within the night the other boys returned. Surely, they felt that something was off but blamed on the stress and the busy days. They didn't even question Namjoon about the dinner with you and he was happy that nobody mentioned her name. The flight departure was arriving, and the boys left for the airport.

"Isn't Y/N coming?" Jimin asked as they were driven to the airport by a black van.

Namjoon stared back at Yoongi who had his music blasting through his ears, drifted off by his surroundings as he imagined your face in front of him. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders, not wanting to talk about you right now. They knew that something was wrong but the signals of Namjoon for not talking any further were even more vivid.

The van came to halt and the managers were taking their suitcases while everyone else went straight into the airport. Namjoon waited until all of them were gone as he held out for the wrist of Yoongi. The daydreamer turned around as he pulled out his earbuds, curious about what his younger friends were about to say.

Namjoon chuckled, "I really am a jerk" he mumbled, making Yoongi furrow his eyebrows.

"What?"

"I am a jerk for not being able to see the connection and love between you and Y/N." he sighed, "I wronged her and you were by her side all times and for that I am thankful," he said.

"I really don't deserve her. Maybe I'm not even that strong to love her the way she deserves to be loved. I know that Y/N loves with heart and soul, a kind of love who is willing to sacrifice her everything for the happiness of her beloved one." He exclaimed, staring into the distance as the words left his lips. Indeed, he was right in everything he said. He realized your love was strong enough to sacrifice your happiness even twice.

"Men do not have the strength to love that way but in your eyes Yoongi, I saw that kind of love. That kind of love which loves with heart and soul. It's astonishing how both of you love the same." He chuckled again, staring down at his feet as he smiled faintly, "I wish it would be like that, but she doesn't love me." Yoongi was silently listening to his younger member.

"Both of you will think that I will feel bad and awful. Yeah, it's true, I'll feel awful. It will hurt letting her go but life goes on. And maybe in a couple of years, I will laugh and remember that I've loved a girl named Y/N who never belonged to me. But it's not your fault. We don't choose who we fall in love with" Yoongi's eyes were filling with tears. For a moment he felt selfish and he just wanted to forget you, but he knew that it's not easy.

Yoongi and Namjoon were still standing in their positions, not moving an inch but then Yoongi heard a sob in front of him. His throat was hot and itchy due to holding back the pain. Yoongi stepped closer to Namjoon, hesitantly reaching out for his younger member to turn him around. He looked up at him, hesitating of doing the next step.

"You're my best friend" Namjoon mumbled, holding in the tears.

„We're brothers" Namjoon took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around Yoongi, patting his back the way Yoongi did as well. Both of them smiling faintly as they leaned back fast.

Namjoon wiped away his tears and cleared his throat.

„Can you promise me something?" Namjoon asked him and Yoongi exactly knew how much his younger friend suffered right now. He knew what it meant to love.

"Don't give up on her." He said as his older friend nodded, ashamed of doing it but still promising it. "I've already organized it with our manager. Your flight is booked for tomorrow evening." He took the ticket out of his jacket, handing it to his friend. Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows as he saw two tickets in his hands.

"But-" he started getting cut off by Namjoon.

"I hope you'll bring her back home" he said, sighing as he looked at his watch, "Well, I have to leave before I miss our flight" you leaned in, whispering "I don't want to be the third wheel around you two" he chuckled and his friend felt the pain in that faint laugh. He waved at him as he stepped away but before he left Yoongi called out for his name. Namjoon turned around, his eyebrows raised.

"Thank you" Yoongi smiled, holding the tickets firmly in his hands. He received a smile from his member as he saw him walking away from him.

Yoongi took out his phone, realizing that he didn't have your number in his phone. He didn't even know where you live. In these unknown streets of Norway, a language and people unknown to him, he decided to search for you. He even forgot about the name of the streets where your company was. Nonetheless, he tried his best and unpacked his English skills to ask strangers. The name of the company was well known at least. He jumped into a taxi driving to your office. He really hoped that you would be in your office. The night was pitch dark and the lights of your company were shut already. Still, he approached the building hoping to see you. He didn't know why but he felt like you were in that building, staying in your office all alone. Shutting away from everyone as you did back in Seoul. Either here or in your apartment. Sadly, he didn't know where you were living. Going back to the hotel would be a hassle since they checked out already. He sighed, taking a deep breath. First, he had to calm down.

"Yoongi?" the voice sent a shiver down his spine. As if you knew that he would be standing here in front of that building. He turned around slowly, staring at you from the distance as he recognized the silhouettes of your body. You were stepping closer and once you saw his face, your heart sank. You were confused as to why he was here.

Yoongi didn't hesitate a bit as he approached you with huge steps, his arms surrounding your body as he pulled you tighter. His smell made your feet feel weak, his touch was making your heart race, and the way he caressed your hair made you feel safe somehow. You didn't know why but at this point you started crying as you pulled your arms around his waist, sobbing into his arms. Time stopped.

That's how both of you started. How your love story started. You were crying in his arms again and he was embracing you again.

"I told you Y/N, there will be an ending full of surprises, didn't I?" he mumbled, making you chuckle as you were still sobbing. You didn't want to let go of his warm embrace, but he leaned back. His hands grabbing yours firmly as he locked his eyes with yours.

"Yoongi, why are you here? Your flight departed already. What about-" you started rambling as he cut you off.

"Don't worry my manager is aware." He said putting a strand of hair behind your ear. "I already have a ticket for tomorrow and you will be accompanying me" Yoongi exclaimed and your eyes stared at him wide open, your mouth dropping.

"But-" again he cut you off. This time he wanted to explain before he let you speak.

"No 'buts', listen to me Y/N" he smiled at you. Your hands were still in his and you felt his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand, "I think we suffered enough. Two years, I wasn't able to listen to your voice, I didn't see your smile and it made me go insane that the only thing left from you were the pictures in my camera. Still, that wasn't enough. Y/N, no matter how much I tried to forget or hate you, I couldn't. Because my love was so strong that I considered hating myself but not you. Because all you deserve is love!" He sighed as he stepped even closer, one hand cupping your cheek to wipe away the tear that left your eye, "It's time to break the curse. This is our fairytale and only we can break it"

"Will you kiss me to break it?" you chuckled faintly, making him smile at your words.

"I'd do that," he said in a serious tone. You sniffed and wiped away the left tears as you took his hand on your cheek in your hand again.

"But nothing is as easy as in fairytales. Yoongi I don't know what I would do without you but after seeing what happened today, I'm sure that I will only cause pain. I hate to say this but I still see no happy ending for us" you admit. Yoongi sighed, letting go of your hands as he pulled out the tickets. He stared at them with a faint smile plastered on his lips.

"Do you know who gave me those tickets, telling me to bring you back home?" Yoongi asked, raising his eyebrows as he stared at you, "Namjoon" your eyes widened at his words.

"We don't have to start a relationship once we get back. Just promise me that no matter how long it will be and when promise me that in the end, you will still be mine" he mumbled, putting the tickets back into his jacket.

"Yoongi" you mumbled, your hands cupped his cheeks as you stepped closer, "I am and will be yours forever."

"Then come with me. Let yourself go in my arms. Don't worry about the future and just stay in my arms" his hands cupped yours which were on his cheeks, slowly bringing them down. He lifted your chin, his warm touch burning on your skin.

"I'm trusting you" you whispered, feeling him leaning closer as you shut your eyes.

"Trust me" he whispered, his breath touching your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned closer. He closed his eyes, leaning in as his lips finally touched yours. It wasn't like the first time when you kissed. The first time was explosive, but this was bombing. It was soul-piercing the way his hands cupped your cheeks and he felt at ease as you kissed him back. Sometimes a new start is what everyone is searching for. Sometimes happiness takes time to find you.

"Y/N" he mumbled as he leaned back, breaking the kiss, "Are you coming back home?"

You smiled, nodding your head at his question. His grumpy smile was making your heart jump as he leaned in to hug you tightly. Though you in his arms already made you feel back home again.

"Let's go home Yoongi" you mumbled in his embrace and he chuckled, kissing your hair.

62 notes · View notes

ayellowcurtain · 4 years

Note

Would you mind giving a description of the type of character sander is pls? I can't get a handle on him. At times he was inconsistent in s3(this is partially bc of the writing and partially) bc he was trying to conceal parts of himself from Robbe and exaggerating his personality to impress Robbe. The source material was a huge crutch in parts of this storytelling, then sobbe lost some spark in parts of wtfockdown, fanon help fill the empty spaces and now the transmedia is evolving him too. Help?

I’m gonna try to help you, anon but I guess what I’m gonna say is basically my opinion and so it might differ from what’s canon or what other people think of him and also gonna link you to some prior posts I already made talking a little bit of him:

- Sander’s similarities with Eliott about how sometimes they struggle to deal with emotions

- Sander and his parents, his home life and his relationship with them

- Why was Sander going back and forth with Britt

Now onto your real answer:

I think Sander, as a character, is a solid one. He as a human being in some universe is imperfect, has his flaws and maybe his bad judgment at times, of situations and of people.

Is not because he’s a fictional character that he needs to be perfect, to always say and do the right thing.

If WTFock did him (and Robbe) dirty was mainly because of their complete lack of understanding of what pacing is. I don’t think season 3 was that badly written. It does has some horrible pacing at times, yes (OHN being on a Monday can only be a joke!!!!).

I don’t think he was purposefully exaggerating his personality. I’m sure the Sander we now know isn’t exactly as loud and out there as we saw during the supermarket clip, for example. But he was freaking out, and being obnoxious without meaning to.

To me, it felt like was mostly freaking out, not sure what to do with himself because the boy he saw once during a random night was there, all alone with him, accepting to go out to go grocery shopping.

That’s just an example but it’s the same behavior I see when he says they won after he shot Britt during the paintball scene, when he sings Bowie to Robbe while they see the girls walking away after the Noor x Robbe fight, or when he goes to Robbe’s place the next day and tries to kiss him. All this moments, to me, feel like a boy that doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to behave when he’s around someone he’s falling so deeply and hard for.

We often see the Evens as these cool creatures, confident, sweet, chill. But we have to remember that’s just the first impression (and from their Isaks’ POV), and after they get to know each other, the Evens are often shy, insecure, kind of lone wolves to some degree.

So what I thought could be seen as “inconsistent” of Sander was just him probably freaking out he was spending time with Robbe, the boy that the moon was shining on him and that Sander knew was the one.

That’s why I assume putting “original” characters after two seasons feels a little bit like crutches (with their background stories) because if you think about it, we always know most of the characters in Skam since season 1, so even when they’re not main characters, we got to know them in the background at least, to get some information throughout the other seasons.

We feel more connected to Robbe (and every Isak), and his background story because we’ve been hearing about it for two seasons.

We know he has a messy house situation, we know his relationship with Jens is kinda platonic but also very brother like (with slaps, saying rude things to each other, etc), we know some people think he’s gay, we know he’s a caring friend because of the way he was with Jana during her season. All this information we got before his season. So when he was main, there was no need to build background around him because we already had most of these informations before.

Sander is a complete stranger to us. And WTFock even gave us two episodes of just Robbe, to get to know him even more but also leaving less time for us to connect with Sander. So what we got of him was mostly WITH Robbe and ABOUT his feelings for Robbe. We know where he studies because Noor told this in ONE line.

The fandom often falls deeply in love with Even because of what we see through their lovers eyes and for how soft, caring, and representative he is (with being bipolar and pan) but I feel like we get more of who he is and his background in Sana’s season. We learn more about his past, his friends, his MI, his beliefs or curiosity about faith, etc.

Even if we barely see him with the balloon squad, watching them we see the type of people Even (or Sander) would like to be surrounded with.

I know people are not the biggest fans of Sobbe during WTFockdown, but I said this before, and I’ll say it again: I think I love them even more after. Even the cybersex part because I thought it was cute, the way Sander was saying he shouldn’t have pushed Robbe into doing it the past week, or how they look at each other and the things they say and how clearly they’re still trying to find the middle ground both of them are willing to experiment with.

Anyway, I thought it was cute, and I thought it was necessary, with the conversations about the attack (WTFock made a horrible writing decision not letting this happen during the season, but at least they gave us something), about Robbe’s traumas that are still very much alive, about his mom and how well she’s doing most of the time, how Robbe is still trying to help her in any way he can. And also about boundaries, about Robbe, that same boy that was calling Sander the F word is now so out and proud, asking Milan about cybersex, talking to his friends about it (because he did tell the boys what they did or Aaron wouldn’t be trying to have cybersex with Amber and the boys wouldn’t be taking their clothes off for Sander’s bday).

I think WTFock would use Sobbe for as much content as they can because they know that’s their golden couple. The Willems have a unique chemistry that’s out of this world, they’re both amazing actors and WTFock knows they’re solid, that the fandom will watch, engage in whatever these characters are involved in and that they boys will deliver every time, no matter how odd the circumstances are. The WTFock team knows they can give these boys a few lines and let they create a scene out of it and it’ll still be good content.

After this long ass post I’ll have to tell you that Sander is:

Mostly private, reserved, some would say shy but I think he just saves himself the energy and the trouble so he only really engages with who he really wants. In this case, Robbe, and the people that are important to Robbe because, again, Robbe is the most important person. I really think (and hope) that when Sander keeps saying “it’s you and me, always”, he really means it. Like they’re one, a solid team that works so well together to tackle any and everything.

A natural flirt. I mean, look at him, you know? And he doesn’t even have to try. And when he tries, it’s over for anyone else because he’ll be eating a marshmallow in that way he did with Britt, he’ll be kissing his girl like he wishes he could be kissing Robbe, he’ll be licking your ear, and dragging you out of a bar, purring please say at yours like no fucking other.

He’s a full on artist. He loves any type of art, he loves talking about art, he loves doing art, painting, drawing, taking pictures, listening to music, thinking about all the intense colors. I’m sure he’s a very visual person in his brain too. If you ask him about how he’s feeling, it’ll be probably easier to draw what he fells than write.

Again, nobody likes talking about this but Sander is a horny one. And he knows how to tease with the stepping back before Robbe can kiss him, he knows what to say, how to look at you with those shiny lips, wetting his lips with his tongue all the time, asking to have cybersex. And I’m also sure he’s really good at sex and enjoys it so very much.

When you’re not Robbe, and when you’re not involved with Robbe, when Robbe doesn’t care about you, Sander can be hard like a brick. He’ll scream at you with no shame if you get under his skin because he really doesn’t care. He’s finally fully happy, with the guy he thinks is the one and he doesn’t want to spend a second of his energy with you so he won’t even try.

I think he has a really small filter from what he thinks and what he says. Like when he says Robbe can bribe the teacher, or when firts with Robbe while Britt is taking a shower, or when he says they need to put some better music instead of making out with his boyfriend during the last episode.

His “all the way or no way” line is basically words he lives by and he’s also a taurus, like myself, so he really means those words with any aspect of his life.

He forgave Robbe so easily after the F word scene because 1) he’s a teenagers, he won’t be thinking as hard as the fandom did about it 2) again, it’s Robbe and he can get away with anything because Sander is completely gone for this boy that he won’t be able to stay mad even when he knows he should because he wants to be with Robbe, that’s it.

He and Robbe are very close, not only as boyfriends, I feel like right now, after everything that happened between Robbe and the boys and Sander with Britt (and probably the ballon squad) they’re very picky with trying to start new relationships, and they know they’re solid with each other, they have similar taste and opinions. Robbe softens Sander’s edges a little bit and Sander makes Robbe a little more confident in being himself, picking himself first.

I hope this very long, ridiculous answer helps you a little bit, anon, don’t mind me getting carried away talking about characters I love :’D

#wtfock #sander driesen

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

Runaways and waiting rooms

Relationships: PLATONIC, Tommy and wilbur

Summary: Tommy has been feeling overwhelmed lately and decides to run away and find Wilbur instead.

Warnings: for like one line where Tommy is talking about how he feels, he mentions not being able to eat. It's literally only for one line though and if you skip it it will make no difference

Word count: 2385

Language: English

AO3

Tommy held his breath as he shoved a pair of thick socks into his backpack. He couldn't believe he was doing this; running away was always something he saw in movies. It was a big thing that would definitely be exciting and freeing but logically he knew it would most likely just be lonely and scary. School had been over this countless times, if you feel bad you need to go to a trusted adult.

That had been drilled into his mind since he was little. So why did the only adults he trusted lived so far away?

He wasn’t actually running away, he told himself this again and again. If he was running away, which he wasn't, he’d be a lot angrier, he’d probably have gotten into a fight with his parents.

This wasn’t running away. This was just leaving without letting anyone know.

Next was a fleece blanket, rolled it up as tight as he could to make it to save room; he still didn't know if Wilbur would even let him stay with him. Asking him now felt so overwhelming. It felt like giving up, Wilbur would definitely try to convince him not to leave home.

With a rough throat and a note left scribbled on his desk, he crept out of the front door. Realistically he knew he could make it on his own, he had a stable income and with his laptop in his bag he knew he'd be able to stream, even if the quality had to be lowered slightly to keep the frames smooth. Hopefully Wilbur's place had good wifi.

As he walked towards the train station, he thought about why he had chosen Wilbur, Tubbo was closer, much closer, but there was just something about the man that made him feel safer than he did at home right now.

Maybe it was the big brother vibes, maybe he just didn't want to inconvenience Tubbo’s family. God he hoped he wasn't going to be turned away.

Wilbur had his own life.

what if he wanted to have a girl over or something? it would be so awkward to have a 16 year old in the other room.

Maybe it would be best if he turned around and went back home.

No. He told himself, the word spinning around in his head as he made his way to the train station. Absolutely, Positively, giving up now would be the wrong thing to do. He had to do this, It would hurt being away from his family and friends but things were just too much right now. He needed an escape.

Wilbur would give him that escape. He hoped so at least.

As he made his way to the station, bag slung over one shoulder, he contemplated his reasons for doing this.

There was too much pressure. That was it. He was expected to do so much and there was such a fine line between being proud and putting pressure on someone.

How could he be expected to average 100k viewers, bring in excess money, get amazing grades and still have time for family situations?

His reasoning was pathetic, he knew that much, but he didn’t plan to stay gone forever. He just wanted a break, some time to think. He wanted the world to stop spinning for one second so he could catch his breath.

That’s why he was going to Wilbur. Wilbur understood these feelings, nobody else did. He loved his parents but they didn’t understand the pressure of having so many people watch your every move. He just needed some alone time.

Before he knew it, he was standing on his platform, anxiously pressing the button to open the train’s door, climbing on with shaky legs.

This was real. He was doing this. There was no turning back now

Sitting down in a corner and pulling up his hood, he prayed that he wouldn’t get noticed. God that would be mortifying, to have his fans see him now, at his absolute lowest point, where he felt so worthless and tired.

Not only that but he was sure that the photo would spread like wildfire as evidence he had ran away once the news broke out that he wasn’t at home.

Much to his delight, the carriage was fairly empty, spare a few elderly couples and a couple mothers with young children. He doubted any of them knew who he was so he just leant back in his seat and plugged his earphones in, setting his playlist on shuffle. There were some songs that reminded him of his friends back at college.

They wouldn’t be mad at him for going missing right?

He pierced his lips together and tried not to think about it.

Nobody would be mad.

Nobody would even notice that he was gone.

___

The train ride didn’t feel as long as he had expected. After checking his phone he knew that yes, it completely had taken the few hours that he had expected but he supposed he had more to think about than he had expected too.

After leaving the train he was faced with the crisp evening air, it was windy and the clouds darkened in a way that he could tell meant it would rain soon.

Not only that, but he was also faced with the harsh reality that he didn’t know how to get to Wilbur’s house, he didn’t even know his address so it wasn’t as if he could just call an uber.

It was cold and nearing night and he was in a city he didn’t recognise.

Why the fuck had he done this?

Trying to clear his head, he made his way to the waiting room. It would be warm in there, he’d be able to calm down.

And he was right, it was warm, and the chairs were soft and perfect for thinking things over in.

He eventually came to the decision that he needed to tell Wilbur what he had done, he was scared and lost but Wilbur would help him.

Before he could convince himself otherwise he pressed on Wilbur's contact and watched it ring.

“Tommy Innit! How are you doing my friend? Me and techno are actually on the smp right now if you want to join us” He was laughing, there’s no way he would answer a call like this if he wasn’t streaming.

Shit fuck.

“Sorry, sorry” The boy shook his head although Wilbur couldn’t see it, he had to fix this, he never should have left home; No matter how pathetic he felt there.

“Sorry I… I don’t know why I called you. Uh fuck.. I forgot you were um….I didn’t see the time shit you always start at this time. I’m sorry”

“Tommy?” Wil sounded a lot more mellowed out, Wow Tommy, you really went and made him worry about you.

“Tommy I muted my stream, are you okay?”

“Wil…” His voice was weak, he sounded small and fragile. His throat hurt and his eyes burned.

What he absolutely was not about to do was cry in a train station waiting room.

“Wil I’m sorry this is stupid” An audible sigh had escaped from his lips, he hadn’t meant that to happen.

“Go back to your stream I’ll be okay”

“Tommy you matter to me okay? If you need someone to talk to I’ll stay on call for as long as you need, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about my stream if you need me, okay?”

That was what broke the dam, a flood pouring out from his eyes as he clutched his phone against his head. He had never been much good at talking about his emotions, this exact situation of breaking down all at once happened far too frequently because of his horrible habit of bottling up his emotions.

He didn’t feel strong when he asked for help.

“Wilbur, please promise not to get mad, please promise not to get mad or tell my parents. Please dont tell my parents Wil” The boy frantically rubbed at his eye’s with his sleeve as he begged pointlessly over the phone. He felt so pathetic. Wilbur would never want to talk to him ever again. Of course he was only doing this out of pity, Wil saw him as a needy child. He was certain of it.

“Tommy? Tommy whats wrong? I won't tell your parents if you don't want me to and I could never be genuinely mad with you. Tommy please tell me what’s happening” His voice sounded pained.

Strange, Tommy thought. It was strange since he was so sure that Wilbur didn’t actually care about him.

He felt worthless, there was too much going on all the time and if he couldn't keep up with it that meant he was the one who was broken.

“Wil” he sniffled. Pathetic “Wil I left home, I didn’t tell anyone, I got on a train and I came here.” he took in a deep breath. God he would die if a fan ran into him now, he was so lucky this waiting room was empty.

“Wil, it felt like you were the only one who would listen to me, it’s too much it’s all too much. Nowhere feels like home anymore, I want to go home but nowhere is home”

Wilbur had taken in a deep breath, Tommy wondered what his chat was saying.

“I’m coming to get you. Sit tight for me. I’m taking you back to my house and we can talk more. I can’t call when I’m driving so will you be okay in the meantime?”

Tommy nodded, remembering once again that Wilbur couldn’t see him. Instead of vocalising his feelings once more, he made a small sound of confirmation.

“Okay stay safe, I’ll be there soon”

And he was there soon, maybe Tommy should have expected it, he had got the train straight into his city after all. It was less than 5 minutes later when he had got a text telling him to come outside.

“Didn’t expect you here for another while, in all honesty” The man chuckled as Tommy got into his car, starting to drive off once he was buckled in.

“Do you want a hot chocolate? You know, whenever I feel bad I like sweet things”

Tommy didn’t answer verbally but he did nod. He felt too broken, too guilty, to talk. He knew words would just start flowing out and he couldn’t risk opening himself up again. He didn’t want Wilbur to decide he didn’t want to talk to him anymore. He didn’t want to be alone again.

Aside from the stop at starbucks, where Wil had bought them both some Hot chocolate, the ride was silent. Filled only by the quiet noise of the radio and the frequent sips of their drinks. Wil had tried to ask him some questions but Tommy just shook his head.

He liked that Wil wouldn’t force him to talk when he wasn’t ready. Wil trusted that he’d talk eventually.

Last time he was at his house he had been so happy, he remembered how many things had happened in such a short amount of time during that meetup. He wished he was still as happy now but as Wil carried his bag inside for him, he couldn't help but be reminded of how much of a burden he was.

The bag had been laid on the floor and Wilbur was sitting on the couch, drink in hand, so Tommy sat down too and mimicked his body language.

“What’s going on then? Are we ready to talk about it” The older of the too hummed, he really was like an older brother, Tommy thought to himself as he watched Wilbur’s soft expression.

Tommy nodded.

He just needed to collect his thoughts first.

“Have you ever felt like you’re drowning even when there’s no water? I keep thinking ‘I want to go home soon’ but I’ll already be at home. There’s so much going on, during the few minutes i get to myself i always end up daydreaming about how nice it would be to pause time and catch my breath”

Even though he felt like he was rambling, like he made no sense at all, Wil carried on nodding. He was listening so intently that Tommy felt a little guilty for not telling him about how he felt sooner.

“I feel like..maybe if I can't swim back up when I'm drowning, I'm just failing. I can’t remember what it feels like to not feel like I’m disappointing everyone I care about, I always feel cold and I keep struggling to eat. When it’s not because I’m too busy it’s because I feel like i don't deserve it, I always feel like I should be working and when I’m not I feel pathetic and weak”

Wilbur didn’t speak for a few seconds, then he placed his and Tommy’s drinks on a little table and pulled the blonde into a big hug. Tommy was surprised to say the least. He had fully expected Wilbur to get mad, maybe yell, but he hadn’t.

“I’ve felt that way so many times Tommy and I’ll tell you this much” he sighed and rubbed the boys back “It fucking sucks. But I’ll also tell you this, You’re not disappointing anyone, everyone is actually very proud of you but you need to realise that that pride won't go away if you take a break”

A little hiccup could be heard from where Tommy’s head was snuggled into. He wasn't crying though. Tommy innit would never.

“You can stay here for as long as you need, i know you just need a break from your life...and I won't tell your parents but I do think you should talk to them. I know you probably don’t want t hear this but they’ll be worried sick and i guarantee they’ll be happier to hear that you’re safe rather than kidnapped”

And so Tommy spent the next few days with Wilbur. He called his parents and explained how he felt, with Wilbur’s help, and he took a small break from social media.

And if he fell asleep leaning against Wilbur’s shoulder more than once, that didn’t need to be brought up again.

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #mcyt #sleepyblr #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #fanfic #hurt/ comfort #emotional hurt/ comfort #dream smp

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llrose-angelll · 3 years

Text

Like a Love Song

This is a fan made Trollstopia episode with Rose as the main focus!!

———————————————————————

the day begins with Rose in bed

she was starring into space

then a loud knock banged at the door

Laguna: Rose? It’s me Laguna! You wanna study?

Laguna: Make a life breaking discovery?

Rose log rolls off the bed

she stands up again and makes the most awake face she possibly can make

she opens the door

Rose: Okay sure!

Short skip to when they were at Lagunas place studying

Rose: So what are we studying exactly?

Laguna: I don’t know...

She throws the book she had

Laguna: so what do you wanna talk about?

Synth was conveniently outside Lagunas window talking to Branch

Rose: ...

Laguna: Rose?

Laguna: Are you looking at Synth?

Rose: WHAT?! NO I DON’T!! STOP ASKING!!!

Laguna: 😐

Rose: I’m just...uh...

She gets distracted again because Synth looks her way and waves

She smiles some and waves back

Laguna: do you..?

Rose: maybe okay?

Laguna: *gasp* aaaaaawwwwwwwwwwww~!

Laguna: Roooooooooooosssse!

Rose: 😒

Laguna: did you tell him?

Rose: of course-

Laguna: What’d he say?

Rose: not

Laguna: WHAT?! WHY?!

Rose: well uh...I don’t know if he feels the same.

Laguna: ooohhhhh I see. You wanna impress him!

Rose: yeah...

Laguna: I don’t think it’ll take a lot to do that. Synth’s a nice guy.

Rose: okay. What do you want me to do?

Laguna: don’t worry Rose! I have the perfect plan!

At the door to Synths house

Rose is standing with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate hearts.

Rose: I don’t know about this, Laguna. It seems really...Stereotypical...

Laguna: I’m sure that’ll get Synth to like you!

Rose rings the doorbell

Rose: you owe me big time if he...

Laguna was gone

Synth then opens the door

Synth: oh! Rose! A...Are those for me?

Rose: A...Eh...yeh...

Synth grabs the flowers and chocolate and puts them aside

Synth: uh...Thanks?

Rose: yeh...

Synth closes the door

Laguna: WHAT IN THE NAME OF MITOCHONDRIA WAS THAT?!

Rose: My mentality stalling

It zooms into her head showing her brain failing to start up a motor. when the motor starts up again her brain flips the “days without stalling” sign to zero.

Laguna: okay you obviously need some confidence

Laguna: and I know just the troll who can help us!

It cuts to Val

Val: No I’m not giving you romantic advise...

Rose: Please! I’ll never get his attention without you!

Val: who are you even talking about?

Rose: Uh...Eh...

Poppy: Who is it Val?

Poppy: Oh hey Rose what’s the issue?

Val: She’s got a crush on some boy and she wants me to give her romantic advise

Poppy: who is it?

Val: that’s what we haven’t got to yet...She’s sitting here STALLING instead of ANSWERING ME!

Rose: It’s Synth okay?!

Rose covers her mouth

Poppy: Awww!

Val: Ewww!

Poppy: I know exactly how you can get him to like you back.

Poppy set up a council meeting the very next day

Rose: Poppy! Why did you call all of the ambassadors?

Poppy: Because Synth is a ambassador! you can confess here!

Rose: But wouldn’t that be wasting all of the other council’s time?!

Poppy: Don’t worry! I told all of them about how you feel!

Rose and Laguna facepalm at the same time.

everyone arrives but Synth

Poppy: great! Everyone's here!

Dante: So, Rosanne...

Rose: you can just call me Rose you know that right.

Dante: Yes yes I know..

Dante: I see you have feelings for a certain someone?

Rose: Ughhhh...Yes...

Dante: and you don’t know how to tell him?

Rose: *sighs* No...

Holly: Well don’t you worry your absolutely adorable head off Rosie!

Rose: Rose

Holly: Yeah yeah what ever...We got this!

Synth finally arrives

Poppy: Oh Synth! It seems that all of the seats are taken! Except, this one...Right next to Rose...?

Synth: That ones free...

He points to a chair next to Val. Val immediately picks the chair up and yeets it out the window. it lands on Smidge

Smidge: I’M OKAY!

Synth: Ok...

Synth sits next to Rose

Poppy: So I called you guys here to talk about...Romance...

Rose: *whispers in Poppys ear* Where are you going with this

Poppy: *Whispers back* All of the talk about romance will heat him up and then you’ll confess!

Rose: *whispers* I don't think that's how it works...

Synth: Why Romance?

Poppy: Uh...When is the Techno mating season?

Synth: Summer...It just started...Why?

Poppy rambles on for 10 minutes about uniting all mating seasons to be during summer.

Poppy’s plan seemed to be working. So Rose decided to confess.

Rose: Psst..Hey...

Synth seemed to be focussed on Poppy

Val: *whispers* Tap his shoulder!

Rose: *Gulps* O..Okay...

Rose taps Synths shoulder and he turns to her

Rose: Synth...I have to tell you something...

Synth: Yess?

Rose: It sorta relates to what Poppy’s talking about...

Synth: Yesss~?

Rose: I...I..L..Lo...

It zooms into Roses mind. Her brain was struggling with the controls while there was an alarm yelling “Synth Alert!” The brain was repeatedly pressing the confess button but it wouldn’t work.

Rose: I...Lo..L..

Val: Get on with it!

Rose: I...Uh...I Lo...

Synth: You Love..?

Rose faints

Poppy: AH! ROSE!

Dante: ROSANNE!

Holly: ROSIE!

Rose: I...ts....Rose!

A few hours later Rose wakes up

Synth: Is she gonna be okay?

Poppy: yeah I’m sure of it

Rose: What happened

Synth: I don’t know, you we’re gonna tell me something and you just passed out...

Synth: Do you still remember what you wanted to tell me?

Rose passes out again. This time when she wakes up Synth was gone.

Rose: Where’s Synth?

Poppy: We told him branch needed him...

Rose: Uggghhhh! WHY COULDN’T I TELL HIM?! THAT COULD’VE BEEN MY ONLY CHANCE.

Dante: Nonsense! I have a trick up my sleeve!

Rose: Your gonna set up a date at that fancy restaurant aren’t you?

Dante: Of course! What else?

Rose: O...Okay then...Yeeey.

At Dante's Restaurant, Synth was sitting next to Rose. They we’re both silent.

Dante: I set up neon lights around their table to set a good... “tech” mood as they say.

Laguna: Nobody says that...

Synth: So...Rose...You invited me here for a reason I’m guessing...

Rose: Yeah uh...There’s something I need to tell you...But I’ll save it for after we eat

the food arrives

Rose: Look! Food!

Synth: You seem unsure about something...You okay girl?

Rose: Yeah I’m fine!

Synth intriguingly puts his head on his fist

Synth: Yeah alright...

he had a disapproving tone.

Synth: I’m gonna...Use the restroom...

Synth got up and walked away

Laguna: psst! Rose!

Rose turns around to see Laguna and Dante hiding in a bush.

Laguna: Amps don't like it when you lie to them!

Rose: Amps??

Laguna: *sighs* Male techno trolls! they don’t like it when females lie to them! they’ll think they cant trust them!

Rose: Why did I not know that! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! *she knocks her head three times*

Synth returns and they finish their meal.

Rose: So Synth...I’ve been meaning to tell you something...

Synth: Actually...I think I’ll just go..

Rose: W...Why?

Synth: I just dont like the aura we have around each other...It’s really...Awkward...

Rose: I swear that’s just me...I sorta cant help it

Synth makes a disgusted face.

Laguna face palms

Synth: I’m just gonna go...

Synth leaves the restaurant and Rose rests her head on the table.

Laguna: Okay that went horribly...

Rose: You think???

Dante: I’m afraid I can’t help you...But I do know someone who could...

Dante winks

Laguna: Oh yeah! Someone who knows who Synth is inside and out!

Dante: Someone who’s been freinds with him for a long time...

Laguna: Someone...Who’s gone through the same thing Rose is going through right now!

Rose: Poppy?

Laguna and Dante: No! Branch!

Rose: That’s right! He’s Synth’s best friend!

the next day Rose comes to Branch’s bunker

Branch: Who is it? Oh. Rose?

Rose: Hi...

Branch: What’s up...We haven’t talked in a while.

Rose: I actually need your help...You know Synth right?

Branch: Is that even a question?! He’s my best bud!

Rose: Great! Do you know how I could get him to like me?

Branch’s eyes went wide

Branch: Woah...I said i was his friend not his dad!

Rose: Please Branch! You’re my last bet!

Branch: Did you confess?

Rose: No

Branch: then i dont know how to help you, if you want Synth to like you then you should just tell him

Rose: I have nowhere near the confidence to do that!

Branch: Alright then...If i know Synth I really think you can just hang out with him.

Synth arrives behind Rose

Branch: Speaking of! here he is!

Synth: What’s she doing here? Emergency?

Branch: She wants to hang out with us

Synth: Huh..? O...Okay…Then..

Branch walked into the bunker but before Rose could enter Synth grabbed her arm

Synth: Rose listen, I’ve been passing by and stuff like…you know I just see you sometimes around the lagoon or somewhere up here and…You’re a really social girl, nice to, so…Could you please be that nice and social girl instead of…

Rose: The way I was at the da- dinner?

Synth: Hol’ up we’re you about to say date?

Rose: No…

Synth scowls and Rose remembers what Laguna told her.

Rose: I mean…Yeah it was just a slip of words…Sorry!

Rose began to push away the awkward behavior she had and began to show her true personality.

Synth: that right there…Is why I like you…

Synth smiles

Rose: Like uh…Like like?

Synth’s eyes go a bit wide.

Synth: I mean…If you want…

Rose: Uh- N...No thanks…

Synth: Oh uh…Right…

They both walk into the bunker.

The day was filled with bonding and the day finally finished off with a rave

Branch began to think this was a good time to confess.

Branch: Hey Synth.

Synth: Yeah?

Branch: Rose has something she wants to tell you.

Rose: No I don’t-

Branch: *whispers* She really likes you!

Rose: What?

Branch: *whispers* She’s in love with you!

Synth: She is???

Rose: NO! I DON’T LOVE SYNTH AND I NEVER WILL LOVE HIM!!

Synths heart shatters.

Rose realizes her mistake.

Rose: Synth I…It was a slip of words

Synth: No no…*sniff* I think you we’re clear…

Rose: I-

Synth: Crystal…Clear

Synth leaves the rave early and the crowd glares at Rose.

Branch: Real smooth…

Branch had his hand in his face

After the rave ended Rose ran out of the water and to a lonely hill. She balled up, she didn’t even feel like howling she was so sad.

Rose: Why would I say something like that…

Rose: I’m such a coward…and a jerk…and a-

Synth: You’re not all those things…

Rose: Synth?

Synth sits beside her. Rose blushes and avoids eye contact.

Synth: Rose…Listen…I like you…I really do…I…I don’t wanna hear you saying stuff like that about yourself…

Rose: It doesn’t matter if it’s true…

Synth: But it isn’t.

Synth: You’re kind, caring, curious, and absolutely adorable!

Rose blushes some more.

Synth: And even if you don’t like me…The guy you do like…Is awfully lucky…

Synth looks down. Rose has the compelling urge to comfort him

Rose puts her arm out to wrap around him. She slowly builds the courage and gently pulls him closely.

Synth: What are you doing?

Rose: Synth…Listen…I…I didn’t mean a word of what I said back there. I would never say such a thing, I…really…Would do nothing but give you all the affection and love you want cause…I love you…

Synths eyes went wide

Synth: I…I thought you said…

Synth looks down for a moment

Synth: I love you to Rose…

He smiles

They close up and close their eyes preparing for a kiss

Branch: SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO….

Synth and Rose scream and back away.

Synth: DUBSTEP YOU DANG NEAR GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!!

Rose: YEAH WHAT DO YOU WANT???

Branch: I thought Rose needed some help but I see you two got yourselves wrapped up!

Synth: Like a gift…

He smiles back at Rose.

Rose: I think…I was relying on everyone else to the point where…I didn’t know how to deal with Synth…Independently…

Synth: Heh…Either way…You got me…

Branch: Uh…Yeah cool imma go now…

Branch leaves

Synth: So…What do you wanna do now?

Rose: Kiss..? Maybe..? Of course that’s if you want im not forcing you or anythi-

Synth grabs Rose and kisses her then backs away.

Rose: I see you…Wanted to…

Synth giggles and they both turn back to the moon. Synth then leans on Rose’s shoulder.

The end!

#Trollstopia #Synth #rossane pixelnote #queen poppy #val thundershock

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demauryss · 4 years

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sail the wildest stretch; 1/6

Summary: Lucas is in a mess. His roommate is his ex-crush. He gets years worth of hairfall if he thinks a minute too long about his philosophy class. His penis-drawing talents are just out of the ordinary. And the cupid assigned to his case is a hair breadth short of committing his murder.

But it’s okay. As long as he has to worry about Eliott Demaury getting to murder him first.

or, cupid8776 has a lucas problem. lucas has an eliott problem. and they are not as unconnected as one might think they are.

enemies to lovers/matchmaking au.

ao3

chapter one: april thunders may blunders

(next)

Dear Lucallecoeur456,

I’m extremely disheartened to announce that your request filed under letter no 654lgb has been denied. According to my records, it is your tenth letter in the past five months which is getting rejected. Personally, I feel saddened as you’re the only person assigned to me who’s over eighteen and still hasn’t found a match. I’d be able to help you better if you consider the following points while writing to cupidint.com next time:

While forming the letter, please consider typing in a computer before you write it down by hand. Or just consider inscribing neatly. You’re the reason our Server turns into a whimpering mess when it transcribes Coup de Foudre - assuming it’s what you write because frankly, your handwriting is garbage – as Coup de Foutre.

Please refrain from using acronyms in your letter. Writing ‘brb’ every time you deviate from a thought does not make you look good. Especially when the abbreviated form has the same number of syllables as the original word. Even better, just totally refrain from straying from an original thought only to come back to it after five pages. Makes me feel like I’m walking through a maze as I’m reading your letter.

While we’re on the topic of refraining, also stop drawing pictures of dogs when you’re asked for what you’re looking for in a partner. I know they are cute, but they can really not be an ideal partner for you.

Consider saving your satirical remarks for the real life. Our Server isn’t smart enough to detect sarcasm and thinks you are being serious when you describe a trash can in the space specified for explaining your qualities.

If you would ponder over these suggestions then I believe I’ll be able to find you a match and it’ll make both mine and your life a lot easier.

Yours truly,

Cupid8776

(They/Them)

The day Yann gets his letter, it’s everywhere on the news. local loner boy, Lucas reads somewhere, having qualities worse than the loner boy from gossip girl has a match. There’s a post circulating on twitter which goes friendly neighbourhood pretty man is officially off the market. And another after reading which makes Lucas wants to wash his eyeballs with hydrochloric acid: hot, tall, model-like being ready to dick down some pink canoes. it’s a trip you’ll never forget!!!

It doesn’t help that Lucas suspects Basile’s fan-account for Timothee Chalamet to be behind half of these posts. Especially the last one. And it also doesn’t help that Yann’s latest letter is currently getting glued to the roof of their bunk bed, right where Lucas would sure be made to stare at it for the rest of his puny life in the lower bunk.

“You’re a fucking prick,” Lucas grits out as he smothers the liquid and ugly look to the back of Yann’s letter. His hands are slimy, and Yann’s fucking face is smiling at him from the small chair he’s perched on. “You don’t even have the fucking decency to do it yourself. Can’t believe I ever thought that I like you. Fucking unbelievable.”

Yann tuts, low and too sure of himself. His face is glowing. His eyes are crinkled. And he desperately needs a punch in one or both of these areas, “You’re being dramatic, you know that?” Yann gets up from the chair, a marker in his hands. If it were up to Lucas he would have used that same object to ruin Yann’s pretty pastel pink blanket. The asshole deserves that and even more. Muttering some more curses, Lucas goes back to the task at hand – pasting the paper in smooth cursive writing courtesy of Cupid5644 on the roof of his bunk bed. Yann looks towards him in the middle of drawing a tally across the four small lines marked on the cupboard above the handle. His face is glowing. He desperately needs a punch or kick to dull that fucking shine. “Besides you signed this up for yourself. So shut the fuck up.”

Lucas groans, resting his head against his pillow, the letter he just pasted staring down at him in all its glory. “This whole thing is ridiculous Yann,” Lucas starts, hands crossed on his chest, “I still believe it’s a world-government scam meant to lure people in for their assassination later. Like, can you believe even Sully from 231-9 has a match. There’s no way you can expect me to believe the System is genuine.”

Lucas looks over to Yann who’s now leaning against the cupboard, scrutinizing Lucas from afar, “Are you sure your reason for not trusting them has got to do with that and not with the fact that in the past three months, each one of your request has been rejected with no guarantee of you ever finding a match?”

“Fuck you, Yann,” Lucas scoffs, turning his back to Yann, his front to the wall. Let Yann believe whatever he wants. It doesn’t affect Lucas, nor does it have any ring of truth to it. Fucking douchebag. Let his match turn out to be some astrology-loving, Harry-Styles-listening, ravenclaw-ass-fanatic. She’ll leave Yann’s Scorpio ass in seconds.

He hears Yann’s footsteps before Lucas feels him crouching behind him, Yann’s finger poking the back of Lucas’s shoulders, “Hey now,” he sounds apologetic, Lucas will give him that, “Life isn’t all about that jazz; your match or partner or whatever. Don’t worry about it. At least you haven’t fallen for their scam yet.”

Lucas laughs as he turns to Yann. His face is glowing. Lucas has changed his mind. The former Yann might deserve a slap in the face with a brick but this Yann deserves all the Kit-Kats Lucas has stashed under his bed. Cupid8776 will have a field day if they found Lucas’s current train of thoughts. Shocking, Lucas can imagine the magnitude of their gasp, Lucallecoeur456 does have a heart after all. Who would have thought.

Lucas smiles at Yann as he extends his arm for him to take. “C’mon now. Basile will have both of our heads on a plate if we waste another second.” He gets up, stepping into his shoes as Yann walks out of their dorm. Something crunches under his foot – Lucas’s blunder; his newest message from Cupid8776. He had thought maybe Letter No 654lgb – lonely gay boy, for clarification – would finally tire them out. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Yann had laughed for ten minutes straight when he had read the letter. “Your cupid is going to commit mass murder one of these days. And I think you’re going to be the first.” Lucas had shook his head at Yann’s analogy; he isn’t that horrible. He sighs as he bunches the paper into a ball and bullseye’s it into the trash can – the one he’d described in his letter. Cupid8776 has a big storm coming next.

So here’s the thing in quite simple terms.

The world’s currently under the secret matching agency Cupid International. Before that it used to be SoulsBound, with the tagline where we find your soulmate for you. But then the name changed to Cupid Int. after getting involved in one too many scandals which Lucas remembers vividly; bold headlines on the front page of several newspapers: Soulmate leaves Soulmate for another, better Soulmate #SoulsBoundFails. And Soulmate doesn’t buy eco-friendly products. Puts the planet at risk #FixItSouls. And another, much dangerous and serious than the rest, which still gives Lucas nightmares to this day: Gryffindor finds out Soulmate is a Slytherin. Says even pet stones can tell they’re not compatible #FuckSoulsBound.

These outrages demanded an instant name change, so SoulsBound transformed to Cupid International; with a union of specially trained cupids from all over the world designated to find your potential match anywhere on the planet after you turn eighteen. The changes were justified and a long time coming, Lucas would say, as for him the term soulmate warranted a much deeper, not an ephemeral meaning; which couldn’t be forsaken for anything. But the soulmate that they suggested were anything but that.

And that’s what brings Lucas to the now: the thought that why people hassle so much for getting their letters to Cupid International as soon as they turn eighteen. Why instead of trying the conventional dating method - which has been getting much recognition as of late - they relied on some unknown person’s (or spirit? Who even were Cupids?) judging of whom they’d be compatible with. But then he guesses it has something to do with the fact that the conventional method is for people the Agency has dubbed hopeless – whose matches they still couldn’t find after years of research and rejection. Lucas is halfway turning into one of the people what with his letters of rejection piling up in the trash can.

But that’s not it. The Agency has more success than its scandals, which puts Lucas off. His grandparents met through the former SoulsBound. His neighbors that have been married for over forty years when he started university met through that. Yann’s parents met through that. Everyone he knows has some kind of emotional success story regarding SoulsBound/Cupid Int,.

And then his father had gone against the system and met his mother through the conventional dating method. Look where it had brought them now.

And here’s a thing in even simpler terms.

Lucas hates Cupid International with a passion which burns his sternum and makes his stomach coil in disgust. And it has nothing to do with the way he has told Yann how he thinks the whole System is a government scam. But it has everything to do with the way how Cupid8776 has denied all forty of Lucas’s letters sent in the past nine months of him being eighteen. It makes his heart boil in his blood when he thinks about how he’s turning nineteen in three months and he still has no fucking chance of ever being matched with someone. Which sucks because out of all the remaining 6,999,999,999 people in the world, there still isn’t someone with same interests as him.

Which is cool. Fine even. Lucas isn’t petty about it. And definitely an ass. No. He’s anything but an ass about it. Because you see. He keeps in contact with Cupid8776 when he’s not writing to them on the specified days of the week. He asks them about their health, their lives. If they have someone special in their life. If they took their dog to a walk. If they’re remembering to stay hydrated.

He makes sure to send in an email every week, even if all he gets in reply is a monotonous Dear Lucallecoeur456, I’d appreciate if you would stop sending me non-work related messages. This email is reserved for work queries only. I’d also appreciate if you would use the time you took in composing this message on your request letter as I’m sure it would be more useful than this. Yours truly, Cupid8776 (They/Them) every single time.

So that’s what he does every time, much to the cupid’s dismay. He spends more time drafting his grocery list than the letter. Spends more effort in drawing stick figures of his enemy than correcting mistakes in the letter. Takes more interest in Cupid8776’s private affairs than his own. And still complain every fucking time why he hasn’t found a match yet.

But like he said, it’s fine. He’s fine.

The first damper on Lucas’s already damped mood comes a little after one. When a pretty fucking important experiment is turned in incomplete. The second comes in the shape of a person. And it’s much significant than the other.

Lucas has just crawled out of a brutal microbiology lab, his clothes tattered, voice bruised from screaming at his group members who don’t even know how to work around a fucking microscope. One would disrupt the lens and the other would somehow mess with the resolution. And then Lucas would curse his life and begin the whole fucking experiment just for the thrill of it, really.

So it goes without saying that after seven unholy tries on the experiment, it had been left incomplete as they ran out of time. Unfinished experiments aside, Lucas was fucking exhausted. He could feel the tired in every cell of his body as he walked from the class to the cafe in the campus where he’d agreed to meet the boys. Now not only was he about to drop down any second, he was also fourteen minutes late.

“You’re so early, Lu,” Arthur drawls out, dull, “Couldn’t have come even earlier if tried.”

Lucas shakes his head and plops down loudly on the bar stool in between Arthur and Yann. He dumps all of his stuff on the ground, wincing as the muscles in his neck scream in protest. “I’m sorry,” Lucas sighs, reaching over Arthur to hit Basile on the back of his head who appears to be sleeping with his head resting on the curve formed by his arms which are folded on the counter. He jolts up, eyes wide, as he looks around the café with hand rubbing where Lucas hit him. “This fucker left me on my own in the lab. It was a nightmare, honestly.”

Arthur smiles his head as Basile pouts, “What was I to do, man? Daphne asked for my help, I couldn’t say no to her!”

Lucas shakes his head, looking over to Yann as he nudges his shoulder. Yann motions towards Basile, “But you don’t have a match, right? Where does Daphne come from in all of this?”

A proud smile takes over Basile’s features. Lucas finds it funny how the words Daphne and match in the same sentence makes the sadness and the sleep to literally dissipate from his face. “I know that, Yann. But to answer your second question, I sent an email to the cupid and he reassured me that I’d find a match in the next attempt so.” Basile shrugs like it’s no biggie, when to Lucas, in definitely is. “I’m hoping it is Daphne.”

“Here’s to fucking hoping,” Lucas’s attempt at muttering is intercepted by Yann, who looks at him weirdly. As if in a question. Lucas shrugs, no biggie. He also finds it funny how Basile’s cupid is replying to his emails reassuring him about the whole fucking ordeal, while Lucas’s cupid can’t be bothered for anything. Lucas gets this: Cupid8776 definitely has something against him.

They place their orders for their beverages: coffee for all of them except Lucas. He goes with cardamom tea. It’s when the café’s beginning to fill up with people getting freed from classes that Arthur speaks up. “But like, you haven’t met the person before right? What if they have the emotional range of a lentil?”

Out of the four of them, Arthur was the one who cared the least for the System, even less than Lucas did. He hasn’t sent a single request to Cupid International, saying he isn’t the one for dating or love. And Lucas respects all his choices. He looks up, affirmation on his tongue. But then his eyes fall over Arthur’s shoulder, in between the barricade of tired students blocking the door. And he thinks, he thinks – holy motherfu-

“Speaking of lentils,” He takes a sip of his tea, meeting the boys’ confused stares, “Here comes one, heads-up.”

And it’s just that – how Lucas spots him and a murky grey takes over his surroundings. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Something weird settles in his stomach as his friends look over to the ill lentil as a smile blooms across his ugly face. Fucking traitors.

“Eliott!” One of them shouts. It’s probably Basile. It’s definitely Basile with the way he’s waving his hands in the air. Lucas would have probably knocked them off of the face of the earth had it not been for Yann seizing him by placing both of his hands over Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas inhales deeply as Eliott walks over to their little settlement of barstools and idiots, a bounce in his step as he plays with the strap of the bag over his shoulder. Lucas looks anywhere but at him as he comes to stand next to Basile as he yells excitedly, “Good to see you here.”

“You too.”

Lucas just about murders Basile with nothing but his mind as Eliott’s shirt comes into his line of vision. And as Lucas looks up - goes against the well-being of his eyes - his eyes take a quick sweep of Eliott’s tall figure. Nothing out of the ordinary. He’s currently smiling warmly at Basile, then at Arthur. It’s when that his eyes fall on Lucas that the previous warmth in them is sucked out of them, like a vacuum, and they harden like stones as Eliott looks at him. And Lucas thinks he’s probably remembering the latest stick figure drawn on a piece of paper which Lucas had hit him with earlier as he was bent over an old, tattered book in the library.

“Have a seat, mate.” It’s Arthur. Double fucking traitor. Lucas should consider getting new friends. (But then, he thinks quite sadly, who would ever befriend him if not for these completely insufferable idiots?)

Lucas watches, stomach in knots and million things on his tongue, as Eliott’s face softens as he turns to Arthur. He smiles, “I have a class soon so I should get going.”

Basile murmurs something about it being a bummer. Arthur tells him that they’ll see him around. Lucas doesn��t know a bummer or what that is but he knows the look Eliott gives Lucas over his shoulder as he leaves – he knows the menace which is coiled in the white of his eyes, the absolute anger and disgust he’s reserved for Lucas comes pooling out in that instant, and Lucas almost washes away with it. Fucking pretentious asshole.

Lucas swallows his heart beating in his throat as Eliott disappears from his sight. Un-clenches his hands which have formed a fist without his knowledge. He turns on his stool, passes Yann a smile who’s been weirdly quiet during that encounter, watches as Basile’s contemplative face comes into his line of vision. And curses whoever put him in this situation: A Thinking Basile is not a Good Basile.

“Do you know apparently Eliott still hasn’t found a match either? Which is odd, since the guy’s a deity. I mean, just freaking look at him!”

Arthur side-eyes Lucas as he nods his head in agreement. Lucas should seriously consider getting new friends. The ones he currently have differ largely from on certain matters. And it fucking sucks that they know it too. “Yeah,” Arthur is saying, “he’s pretty. And nice too.”

‘Nice’ my fucking ass. Lucas shakes his head, finishes his cold tea in a second, and picks up his bag which he dumped to the floor. It is common knowledge that Eliott Demaury is good-looking. He’s the person everyone in their uni flocks up to. He’s also pretty fucking amazing at everything he does. Which only irks Lucas more. He gets up, adding onto Basile and Arthur’s conversation with a silent Yann in tow.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” he speaks to no one in particular, not really expecting the three people to stop their oh-so-important conversation about Eliott Demaury to pay him any attention. Shaking his head, he runs through a crowd, past a sulking worker, stressed students and mahogany colored back door to an alley o sheltered light and soft breeze.

Lucas breathes in deeply. His bag makes a sound as it plops to the ground. Closing his eyes, he focuses on calming his heart down which is beating so erratically Lucas has trouble keeping his mind on one place. If he could just wrap his hands around that fucker’s ne-

“Fancy seeing you here,” Oh fucking hell. Lucas fires off every curse he could think of in his heart. There is an off feeling in his stomach as he opens his eyes to Eliott’s hooded figure sitting off to his right, a cigarette placed between his lips. Lucas has to look down to place the full expression on his face, and it thrills him a little. (The act of looking down at him, for once. Not the clever smile which is placed on his face.

“Well, how’s your day doing?”

“Oh, it’s you.” Lucas shrugs his shoulders like it isn’t taking a great deal out of him to plaster the absolute fake smile on his face. “I was wondering why suddenly all the clouds turned grey.”

Even though he’s standing five to six feet away, Lucas doesn’t miss the brie fall of Eliott’s smile. But it’s coming into place faster than Lucas has the chance to feel good about the whole ordeal. He watches, against his will, as Eliott takes a long drag of his cigarette, the end of the stick burns brighter in glowing red embers before he blows white puffs of smoke in the air. He’s just so –

Lucas bites down on his lip to prevent the stupid thoughts from slipping out. Eliott watches him with (feigned) interest.

“Ahh there he is,” Eliott straightens his back. Even though he’s sitting on the steps to the side and Lucas is standing, it still – somehow – feels as if Eliott’s looking down on him. “I was wondering where the meanie in you has wandered off to.”

He didn’t just call Lucas a meanie. What the fuck.

Lucas heaves in a sigh. Wills his heart to stop hammering. “You wouldn’t know a thing or two about that, now. Would you?”

Lucas notices the little shake of his head, the light which falls over his face making it look like it’s dropped the sneer which has now become a part of his features whenever he’s around Lucas. And Lucas should revel in the thought of getting Eliott to show his real colours, but it grates on him regardless.

Eliott rubs his thighs over his jeans. Lucas traces the motion with narrowed eyes. And when he speaks, it’s to a completely different wave.

“You know, when someone asks about your day, you reply and then ask the question back. It’s called having a conversation, you know?”

Lucas bites the inside of his cheek, words already spilling out before he has a chance to assess them, “And what part of me actually looks like I would want to have any conversation with you?” Just. Who does he think he is? Pretending to be nice and all that. It doesn’t mean Lucas would forget when yesterday he doused Lucas’s workplace in some sticky as hell material which ruined not only his assignments which he spread on the table but left a permanent damper on his mood.

There’s a tilt to Eliott’s lips, his eyes bright and every bit gauging Lucas with the way they’re trained on him. The structure in his chest gives a painful squeeze.

Lucas doesn’t like it. At all.

“I should have known,” Eliott says with an air of nonchalance that has Lucas’s insides firing up in anger and – “You’re not one to have a conversation with.”

“Glad to have that sorted, then.” Lucas decides for the same tone Eliott chose earlier. He turns on his heels. And with Eliott’s eyes digging holes in his back, he returns through the same door he came out of earlier.

So here’s another thing in the simplest of terms. Lucas isn’t fond of many things in his life. He hates the System, his philosophy professor, Sully from 231-9. But what he hates even more than all of these things is the fucking lentil Eliott Dick Demaury.

There’s a dull buzzing seeping into his bones as Lucas walks towards consciousness. His limbs are still heavy with sleep, his eyes glued shut as he pats around his pillow for the vibrating device around him. He picks the phone up around a yawn, voice groggy as if he hadn’t used it in years.

Well, he hasn’t used it in hours. So. There’s that.

“Hello?” He croaks out, snuggling his face into the pillow under his head.

“Lucas Lallemant! Why are you still sleeping?”

The voice, filtered through the static, still compels Lucas to bolt upright in the bed, eyes now opened wide as he rubs away the sleep with his hand. “Mama!” He wills his voice to sound as if a trail of drool hadn’t had been drying at the side of his mouth. “You’re still up!”

His mama chuckles a little, as Lucas is left to smile sheepishly. Her voice comes clear now, “I would have called you at crack of dawn and you would still have said the same thing. Besides, don’t you have to go to your shift in half an hour?”

Lucas frowns, and then gets out of the bed. He finds Yann gone, his bed properly made. That’s why Lucas was able to sleep that much, considering Yann has reserved a distinct hatred for Lucas’s sleep.

His limbs are heavy as he changes out of the moth-ridden (not exactly, but its appearance justifies the statement) shirt he slipped into before his nap. “How have you been, Mama?”

“Great,” his mother speaks on the other line. There’s a brightness to her voice which lessens as well as increases the cut of homesickness lodged inside the muscle of his heart. Lucas doesn’t let himself dwell on the sudden sadness which grips him. Instead he focuses on the smile he can hear in his mother’s flowery tone, “I’ve been spending a lot of time in the garden these days. You know the plants Willow got me? They flowered yesterday and they’re so beautiful Lucas!”

Lucas smiles as he picks up his bag lying by the door.

She hums on the other line. “And Dr. Noelle changed my medication. We’ve switched to lighter pills instead of those heavier ones that always made me drowsy and loopy. She said I’m doing better so no need for the heavy dosage.”

There’s something like relief travelling with the air he inhales right to his heart. The sun is bright as Lucas makes his way outside. “That’s good, Mama.”

His mother launches into details about stuff about her new medication like the schedule and the amount of pills she’s required to take each time. Lucas walks out of the campus, listening intently to his mother’s retelling of the shenanigans happening in the various clubs she has joined now that she doesn’t feel so drained anymore. Lucas tells her about his classes and life in return.

“Oh, yesterday in the cooking club, Nadine switched Hira’s container of salt with baking powder. It was quite fun to watch them two bickering afterwards. And there’s a betting pool going around the club about how much time they’re going to take before they get together.”

Lucas shakes his head, a smile pulling up on his face as he crosses the road, “Mama, you should help them sort out their differences instead of enjoying their fights!”

Lucas can hear her shaking her head. She continues, “We should, but it won’t be fun anymore. Besides, I do like some slow burn if I say so myself.”

“You’re spending too much time on the internet,” Lucas muses, “Next thing I know you’ll tell me that you’re reading fanfictions.”

His statement is met with silence. Suspicious silence. He has a minute to be terrified at the prospect before he’s breaking out in laughter, “What the fuck, Mama!”

“Language, Lucas!” She chides, but there’s a smile in her voice which grips Lucas’s heart. Even though he’s kind of wary about the stuff she must find on the web, Lucas knows she can fend for herself.

“Anyways,” she steers the conversation to another direction. Lucas goes with it. “You’re coming on Saturday, right?”

Lucas nods, “Yeah Mama. I’ll try to make it on Friday if the boys haven’t got something planned already.”

The store comes into view, so Lucas says his goodbye into the phone. “I need to go, Mama,” Lucas swallows down the bile which rises in his throat. He misses her so damn much. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” The lines drops, and Lucas is let to chase away the sudden sadness he feels. For a minute, he stands there outside the store, his heart beating with a pang of homesickness. But then he forces air into his lungs, clears his mind, and goes inside the store.

The store is blissfully silent when Lucas enters through the door. There’s a faint smell of lavender still left from the candle Mika must have burnt earlier. Lucas drops his bag behind the counter before he picks up the various records and CD’s piled on the counter and places them in their racks. He starts making his way to the store room for the stuff which was shipped earlier. Might as well get a head-start if he’s early.

The store’s owned by Mika’s aunt, and Lucas works part-time here. It’s a vintage record store; the business is okay. He had earned a full scholarship in the university, but needed a job for the basic necessities in his life. Mika offered a job – and the wage was enough to pay off his expenditures. It is okay, better even. Except – except for the –

Lucas ends up walking face first into a rock-hard chest. His nose gets squished against a set of solid pectoral muscles, the cartilage singing with pain. There are hands grabbing his forearms; stale cigarettes and citrusy bubblegum taking up a better half of his brain. If it hadn’t been for the way the systems operating his reflexes have trained him to be repelled away as soon as the scent hits his nostrils, Lucas is a hundred percent sure he would have delivered a leg straight into the dick in front of him.

“Hey,” there’s an iciness which Lucas feels even though he’s overtaken by the pain in his nose. Lucas looks up, up; and here he is – the dick in all its ugly glory. Lucas tries not to fall on the spot.

“Lucas Lallemant is early? Am I dying or is it really happening?” Eliott cocks his head to one side, lips tilted up a fraction. Lucas smiles back sarcastically. What if he is late to almost everything in his life? That’s none of Eliott’s fucking business. Forcing the very delicious image of Eliott choking to death in his sleep to a dark corner of his brain, straightens his shoulders to stare at Eliott square in the eyes. He’s sad and he’s tired. So he doesn’t have any energy to deal with Eliott today, “Please crawl to whatever grimy hole you’ve crawled out of this time, Demaury.”

Footsteps follow his as he spots up the cardboard box holding the new records in the store room. Mika told him to stack them once he gets the time. He’s picking it up when the slime-covered asshat opens his mouth, “What are you doing?”

Lucas sighs, “Operating a spacecraft.” He moves towards the box, hearing Eliott’s footsteps falter behind him. “What does it look like?” Lucas picks up the box, but Eliott isn’t up to giving it a rest.

“Actually, leave it there. You’re on dusting duty today.”

The fuckin- “What?” Lucas turns on his feet. His stomach is doing weird somersaults. He crosses his arms across his chest and looks at Eliott, whose eyes are narrowed as if he’s examining Lucas. It’s like he’s plotting Lucas’s murder. And Lucas – he has a flashing thought. That would be the highlight of Eliott’s life, no?

He shakes himself into the present. And then gets the words out with great distaste. “Mika told me to stack them so.” He turns around once again, moving towards the box, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Lucas shakes it off quickly.

Eliott stands off to one side, his face in its perpetual state of frown around Lucas. “Mika left me in charge,” he says, leaning his wait on the door as he looks down at Lucas. He won’t be intimated. No.

Eliott’s eyes flick to the box Lucas has picked up as he turns around, heart and head set in determination despite the initial bout of anxiety and something else which still sings inside him somewhere. Eliott almost has a foot of height in Lucas, and if that isn’t enough to make Lucas flee to the mountains, there are parallel lines drawn on the skin his forehead. His eyes are green, the one which reminds Lucas of moss gathered on stones settled to the ocean bed. Solid. Firm. Steady. Lucas wants to reach out and slap that look off of his face. Preferably with a chair. He raises an eyebrow; a challenge.

Something like light flashes on Eliott’s face, giving Lucas a look into an annoyed feature before turning neutral again. Like the plants viewed from the askew perception of water floating above the surface, Eliott’s eyes turn infinitesimally greener. “You’ll dust off all the records in the A to M section. Or if you’d rather I tell Mika about the time you scratched one of his Stevie Wonders vinyl, I’m down with that too.”

There’s no wonder in the way the box previously in Lucas’s hands retains its original place. No. Definitely not him getting intimated by that giant goo of citrusy smelly being with his head too far up his head. Eliott’s face transforms into one of his ugly smirks; the one which is belittling and totally hateful towards Lucas. Lucas just about launches his self upon him.

“If we’ve figured that out,” Eliott straightens his body, his eyes have that weird sparkle that they always gain whenever they see Lucas miserable, which is just about every fuckin time Lucas comes in contact with Eliott. “I also would like if you could hurry up. We don’t have all day today.”

Lucas bunches his hands in fists to his sides as Eliott walks out, all pretentious and glad as he is to have the final word. He blesses Lucas with one final boastful look over his shoulder, the green now as bright as day.

It’s no biggie, Lucas thinks. He can easily refuse. There must be atleast a thousand records in the A to M section. Well, not a thousand but you get the gist. And Céline has been in Léon for the past week to attend her brother’s wedding. Which means the records wouldn’t have been dusted for years. Not only would Lucas have a stellar day cleaning them, but his terrible allergy would cause him immense pain. But the scratched vinyl and Mika’s wrath after knowing about it would cause him a direct ticket to his grave.

So with heavy steps and an equally heavy heart, Lucas stomps over to the racks holding the worn out records covered with dust. There’s something tingling in stomach. He swallows down the feeling, and pushes Eliott out of his mind. That fucking asshole. No wonder he hasn’t got a match.

He goes towards to the record player he persuaded Mika to get for the store. Eliott had brewed a shit storm when Mika had agreed. His ‘Music would be distracting’ was countered by Lucas’s ‘What kind of a music store would it be if it had no music playing?’ and in the end, Lucas had watched a brooding Eliott triumphantly as Mika brought in his uncle’s record player the next day. And so it beings him a great deal of joy as he places in a record in the player that Mika has given his permission to be played in the store.

The records in front of him glisten with the reason Lucas would be walking out of the store with his eyes on fire and respiratory track on a lock down. Elton John croons in the background as he takes out the sticky notes from his pocket (they come in handy when the situation is like this, okay?), tears off a note. Eliott doesn’t, thankfully, surprisingly, bother him once as he gets to work.

It’s to a violet and pink merging together that Lucas looks up to when he makes his way out of the store. Even though his eyes are stinging, and his throat feels like the surface of a cemented wall; all rough and scratchy with cheeks stained with the water his eyes won’t stop producing, Lucas still looks up as a bird takes flight into the setting sun, a silhouette of the fucking time and energy Lucas lost removing years’ worth of dust off of records and cursing the asshole parading the halls with a stick in his ass.

Lucas doesn’t know why Eliott has made it the mission of his life to make Lucas’s life hell. And he also doesn’t know why Eliott’s like warm, soft sunshine when faced with anyone other than Lucas. Hell, if Céline had been the one asked for the task, Eliott would have stepped right up as the fucking gentleman he is to offer to do it himself. And it is funny how once he’d spot Lucas, his face would twist like he’s sucking on a sour lemon or something. Lucas doesn’t get that. He can’t.

With a sigh heaved out of his super congested nose, Lucas starts walking back to his dorm, his bag slung over his shoulder. He had been thankful for Eliott’s absence as he was walking out. It gave him a chance to stick the drawing which he made onto the first page of some deep shit book Lucas knows Eliott keeps in the drawer of the counter. Eliott was nowhere to be found, and Lucas was left with the proof to reinforce his theory. He firmly believes that besides being a fucking dick, Eliott Demaury is also a ghost which keeps appearing out of the blue and then disappears as if it hadn’t been there before. And Lucas is quite okay with that. The role suits Eliott in more ways than one – but it’s also sad Lucas’s won’t be able to get the pleasure of murdering Eliott if he’s already dead.

A rain droplet falls from the darkening sky over Lucas’s head. It lands cold in the center, making Lucas quicken his pace as he rounds the final corner near the dormitory. Yann would already be there, and Lucas can pester him all night to get him some chicken soup.

He makes it to his room just as the rain starts pelting on the ground. Lucas kicks off his shoes as he enters the room. Yann’s hunched over the study table, half asleep from what it appears to him. It’s when a particularly loud sneeze bursts through Lucas that Yann looks up.

“You look like a vampire,” Yann snickers as he looks at him. Lucas doesn’t need to look in the mirror to see what mighty image he’d be painting with red eyes and pink nose and tear-stains on his cheeks. He drops his bag, takes off his wet clothes and jumps into the bed in his boxers. Muffling his face into the pillow he lets out a groans, “I hate that asshole so much.”

“Whom do you not hate?” There’s a smile in Yann’s voice. Lucas chooses to ignore it. He sighs, turning on his back and staring at the abomination he glued to the roof of his bed earlier.

“That’s not the point, Yann,” Lucas exhales, “He knows I have a dust allergy. But still he fucking blackmailed me into dusting the records. It’s like he was getting me back on something.”

“Well, you do keep making those drawing of him,” Yann stops just as Lucas sits up. He scoffs, “Whose side are you on Yann? I can’t believe he’s bewitched you too.”

Yann shakes his head. He looks like he’s regretting every of his decision which brought him here, to this second, with a Lucas with a quarter of his brain working. Fucking Eliott Demaury and his fucking charm. Lucas doesn’t get what’s so special about it.

“-and then I had to walk in the rain,” Lucas continues, sighing into his arm. There’s a light pitter patter which is reaching Lucas’s ears. Lucas would have been able to take in the sandy smell that must be wafting in the air if his nose hadn’t been so congested. It’s Eliott’s fault. All of it. “Fucking pretentious asshole,” Lucas mumbles.

Lucas turns his head. Yann has his contemplative face on, “Don’t take it the bad way Lu, but don’t you think you’re kind of hung up on him?”

Lucas sits up, shocked to his very core. With a gasp he splutters like a fish out of water, “I’m not!”

Lucas doesn’t know where Yann is getting these terrible thoughts. Lucas won’t fall a prey to that. Fuck. Yann doesn’t seem fazed. It’s like he’s done this every other day of his life. What, Lucas doesn’t know. “If you ask me, or Arthur, or Basile, it kind of seems that you are, Lucas. You bring him everywhere, you know? Even if the situation doesn’t call for it, you’ll somehow make it so it has something to do with Eliott. And I think that’s where your fault lies: You give him too much thought.”

And that is…..totally not wrong. Maybe partially, but – Lucas does bring him everywhere with him. And that’s totally on Lucas. It’s maybe the reason he’s so miserable half of the time. He gnaws at his bottom lip, then, as in afterthought, speaks, “Well, then, fuck the rain, I guess?”

Yann’s face lights up as a chuckle passes his lips, “You know what they say Lucas: April showers May flowers.”

Lucas looks at him from the corner of his eyes, “More like April thunders May blunders but whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

And like expected, Yann starts shaking his head, exhaling heavily. The sound makes Lucas grins and he looks up just as Yann clicks his tongue, “You’re a hassle, Lallemant.”

“What do you mean? I’m a delight to have around.”

Yann clocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed, “Listen, I know atleast one person who would greatly differ with your statement.”

Lucas sighs, plopping his head back on the pillow, “Yann, you and I both know that Eliott hates my guts, so.” He shrugs. It’s common knowledge now. And wasn’t Yann just lecturing him about giving Eliott to-

“I was talking about your cupid, actually,” Yann has a terrible looking thing crawling into the fibers of the cells constituting the skin Lucas so badly wants to punch right now. The corner of his lips hitch up a fraction before he gets up from his chair, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” Yann says, a smile crinkling his eyes, “You sit here and think about him, okay?”

He’s out the door in a second; the pillow Lucas throws at him landing on the ground after harshly colliding with the door.

Fucking assholes.

[email protected]

Dear applicants,

Requests for the new sessions have been opened. Kindly take out the prints of your forms from cupidint.com. Please make sure to send in your requests to your designated Cupid before Friday. Any and all requests received after the deadline will be rejected.

Yours truly, Cupids

Lucas stares at the bright flashing and too depressing email displayed on the computer screen. There’s a dull throbbing behind his left eyebrow, his eyes are burning, and Yann still hasn’t returned with the food Lucas messaged him to get for him a few minutes after his departure.

His eyes move from the screen severely damaging his brain to the ugly yellow form Lucas keeps stashed in case of emergencies. His pen rests on top of in a bit slanted. Lucas hates the very sight of this form; apart of tree wasted for nothing. He remembers the many papers like this he sent many times before, and still end with fucking disappointment. What or who is to say this time won’t be the same.

With a dejected sigh he picks up the pen and presses the clicker. Might as well sign up for another disappointment. It is as he starts reading What would you pick to describe yourself as? Please pick one of the choices and is in the process to bang his head against the table cover over the answers that his phone pings with a notification. He unlocks the device, squinting at the light flooding his burning eyes. His stomach coils in on itself.

Eliott D 💩

céline will be back on friday

so it’s your duty to dust the records till then

also, you draw terribly. thought i should let you know

Lucas stares at the words with a newfound hatred which now boils beneath his skin and rises up like a tide ready to consume all of him. But if that happens Lucas would so something extremely petty and stupid. Eliott won’t let him live, and besides, Lucas is above that. He turns his phone off, and with a bout of energy coming from somewhere inside him, underneath his sternum, he picks up the pen and, because he’s inspired, starts drawing penises everywhere there’s a blank for answers he’s supposed to write. The letter’s going to be rejected anyway; Lucas might as well go down with dignity.

This is it, Lucas thinks, when Cupid8776 finally gives up on him. Ha. Lucas would finally be free of their trap.

(And, because he’s inspired, he also takes a picture of the penis, lines them up with the various shots of the stick figures currently accumulating in his photo library, and sends them all to Eliott D (Poop Emoji). In response to his last message, Lucas provides: i don’t think i’m terrible. i’m getting better at drawing your portrait, see and presses send.)

Lucas folds the letter into an envelope and is on his way to mail it. And when Eliott replies back with a chain of messages including some very gruesome you are fucking annoying and extremely threatening crawl back to the whole YOU have come out of, psychopath somewhere between that, Lucas doesn’t feel any remorse.

Like he said, he’s above that.

#elu fic #skam france #stws #elu drabble #skam france fic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu #penned #stws c

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 4 years

Photo

Allotrope pt. 5

Genre: Idolverse Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x reader Warnings: Mental Health struggles. Anxiety, depression. Mentions of gaslighting and generally shitty people. Explicit sex. Fluffy domestic relationships. prev. / next Words: 10k.

"Shit," you gasp quietly, freezing in Junmyeon's hold- a stark contrast to the warmth of him.

He releases you momentarily, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He comes to your side against the counter, reaching to collect some of the pills.

Your heart leaps into your throat and your voice sounds harsh when you release the words on a breath, "No!"

Junmyeon stills as your chest heaves, gathering up the medicine and cradling them in your palm to slide them back into the bottle. Your hands are trembling and you can't bring yourself to look at him.

The embarrassment, anxiety, hurt, sadness, anger, confusion, all of it. All of the emotions you struggle with accepting while on this medication scream like alarms in your head whenever the bottle is open. As if to shut it up, you rush to jam the cap back on and can't help how forcefully you toss it back onto the counter.

With a dull plastic thud it hits the surface, bouncing against the backsplash and rolling to a stop against the side of the coffee machine.

You turn away from it, resting your back against the cool edge of the counter and pulling your hands up to cover your face. You breathe, but tears begin falling silently regardless.

Junmyeon is still silent beside you, but you can hear him pick up the bottle from the counter. You can hear the pills sliding around inside of it gently as he examines it, but you are frozen, helpless to stop him from seeing. So much for being careful, you think. This is not at all how you planned to talk about this subject with him.

After a moment, you feel his hand come to rest against your back, softly rubbing up and down. Your head is pounding loudly so you don't hear him until he has to repeat himself.

"Y/N, look at me. Please," he asks, lips kissing the syllables into your shoulder gently. His palms are warm where they caress your arms, pulling you into his chest.

The warmth and kindness radiating from him tells you immediately that it's okay. You know it is, but you cry harder.

"Hey." he tries again quietly, fingers wiggling their way into the space between your own and your face, pulling your hands to his lips.

You turn your face, lifting an elbow to wipe the tears with your shoulder. Futile as more take their place. One peek at him makes your heart stop.

You expected him to be looking at you with pity or confusion or a surfaced smile telling you it's okay. Perhaps he would look at you just as everyone else does, like they have no idea. Like there’s nothing wrong.

Not Junmyeon.

The sadness and heartbreak you see written on his features gives you pause.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out automatically, wincing at the way your voice croaks. You don't really know why you've said it, but the expression he wears is one that pulled the words from you without thinking.

He brings you into his chest further, wrapping his arms around you fully and gently pulling your forehead to his shoulder, "You don't ever have to be sorry for this."

"What do you mean?" you mumble into his skin, breathing in the calm scent of him. It's helping to ease your erratic breathing, and you feel your fight or flight instinct draining as the tears go from raining to leaking, slowing their expulsion from your eyes.

His lips touch your hair as he speaks, "For struggling." He pauses briefly, kissing at your hair, then adding, "I used to take them, too."

If Junmyeon were not fully aware of your body's movements, he would have a lovely bruise on his face from the force of your head whipping up from his neck.

You stare at him, eyes narrowing, "Really?"

He can’t hide the way the corner of his mouth ticks up, sensing your incredulous shock, "Really. Not these exact ones, but something similar."

Blinking, you look back at the bottle on the counter where he set it. It makes sense now why he looked heartbroken and sad moments ago. He gets it.

Reassuring, he eases you out of his embrace and holds you at arms length to take you in fully. Your lover makes no comment as he watches you. You clear your throat of the gumball inside of it.

"Thank you," you whisper to him, your reservoir of tears suddenly refreshed as they pool along your eyes until the abundance of them slips down your heated cheeks.

Junmyeon melts, tugging you back into him. Only this time, you wrap your arms around his sturdy frame in return. His hands hold you close, slowly moving over you to soothe your woes.

"Why are you crying more?" he asks, and for only a moment do you hate that you can hear the slight smile in his voice.

You squeeze him hard in retaliation and he laughs quietly, twisting his neck to place a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I didn't want to tell you like this," you murmur against his clavicle.

"Why?" he coerces.

You lift your head from him but can't make yourself look at his face while you speak. Rather, you lay your cheek against his chest, tucking your head under his chin, "Did you think it was a weakness?"

The implication of your question is not lost on him, and he pauses to consider your question. "Sometimes. Especially at first," he confirms carefully.

"It's been six years since I have felt like this, and it's been three years since I began taking those," you explain, "I have a lot of difficulty accepting that I need them even though they make me feel better."

Junmyeon hums, the vibration of his throat tickling your ear. "I'm glad they make you feel better.", he answers.

"I have a... really, hard time accepting that they help. I feel like they're a false happiness, or chemicals that tell me to be content with complacency," you convey quietly to him, "I have a plan for my life and goals and I hate that I have to have these to help me be happy."

Your boyfriend remains steadfast, still holding you against him and listening. The steady beating of his heart grounds you. "I know you've probably heard this a lot, but it's okay to need help sometimes."

You scoff, "You're right, I have heard that a lot," pausing before you decide to add, "But the people I needed to hear that from the most were never the ones who said it. It really fucked me up." Your voice cracks slightly and you clear your throat once more, smiling wistfully because you can't stop yourself and you want to hide and you feel silly for crying over the past.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me what you mean, but I wi-" he replies until you cut him off.

"My ex. My Mom," you quietly confess to him. Every word takes the edge off just enough to make you keep talking.

Junmyeon hears you loud and clear even though your voice is so quiet. His hands pause their gentle slide around your back. You remember suddenly, vividly, the way he was so attentive to your emotions the first night you slept together. Even in that brief moment when you mentioned your father, Junmyeon only served to soothe the ache accompanied by the pain.

You decide to tell him why you had such a fear of telling him. You try to keep it simple but the words just seem to spill forth uncontrollably in a vomit of syllables that break your heart, “My ex broke up with me over this. He put me through a lot of emotional and mental abuse over it. It was just to the edge, enough gas-lighting to make me believe I really was crazy, and that something was terribly wrong with me.” You’re surprised by how sturdy your voice sounds even though it quakes and tears roll down your cheeks on at a time.

Taking a deep breath, you willfully continue, “Soohyun tried to tell me constantly that it was toxic and unhealthy, but I was really lonely and it was my first and last serious relationship. I can’t say I’m happy with how it turned out but I think it made me stronger. I know that’s fucked up, and my Mom... well, we won't visit that right now."

Junmyeon huffs, pulling you away from his body and looking pointedly at your face. His eyes are serious, locked on yours, "All I can say is I am sorry you went through that. I am telling you right now I will never leave you over something like this. You’re very strong and you’re not fucked up at all. I think it’s a very real way of looking at it, unpleasant and horrible as it may have been to endure."

His sincerity makes you smile, cupping his cheeks in your hands, you pull him back to you and kiss him squarely on the lips. He reciprocates, doubling his effort to cage you in his arms and take your fear away.

"Thank you," you murmur into his mouth, needy for his validation of your feelings.

Humming, he swipes his tongue between your lips, softly pulling your elbows up so you will wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into you, his hands caressing down your sides like slow wildfire, scooping you by the back of the thighs to wrap yourself around him completely.

The chill of the countertop bites at your skin when he sets you on it, holding one hip in his grasp. His fingers dig slightly into your flesh, keeping you grounded to him like an anchor.

Your lover kisses you hotly, his tongue mapping your mouth until he has no choice for air and has to release you. Your breaths fan against the others skin, balmy from the heat. Patiently, he hesitates, waiting for you to initiate anything further.

It dawns on you how good he feels. Whether he is kissing you or not, Junmyeon makes you feel good. Just his presence by your side alone is enough to restore some balance to the chemicals in your brain and make you relax. The conundrum of him is one you don't think you'll ever figure out, but you will always cherish.

Your fingers thread in the hair on his nape, pulling his head back to yours for another slow, molten kiss. His lips find purchase on your neck next, his hand on your hip sliding up, under your camisole. "Let me," he whispers against you.

It doesn't matter what he's asking for, you trust him enough to do whatever he has in mind. You trust him to make you feel amazing. The opposite palm flutters down the side of your neck, down your chest, lightly squeezing your breast as it descends. It quickly finds the target he had in mind, his fingers ghosting over your core.

Still tired from all of your activities yesterday and through the night, and your emotional outburst this morning, you didn't realize how turned on you already were for him until the movement of his skilled fingers over your clothing has you biting your lip and spreading your legs further apart.

“Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?” he kisses the words into your collarbone. The pressure of his fingers increases, rubbing deliberately until you reward him, moaning out your consent.

With a whine from you, his hand is gone from between your legs. Not realizing you’d closed them, your eyes open to watch him straighten to his full height. “Lets get these off, hm?” he suggests, fingers dipping below the waistband of your pajamas.

Balancing yourself on the counter with both palms, you lift your hips, letting Junmyeon pull them down your legs. He kisses your left knee just after the material leaves your legs. His gentle hands are back at your thighs, pulling them apart to make space.

His movements are a intent and slow. Languid yet focused solely on you. He leans into you again, cradling your head as he kisses you dizzy as he guides your hips forward with his other hand. Once parted for air, you find him sinking. His hands maneuver you gently to lean into the corner between the cabinets and the fridge, hooking your outside thigh over his shoulder.

He smiles up at you just once before his lips kiss against your folds. His tongue is slow. So slow, as it works its way into you and ascends to your clit. Junmyeon keeps the torturous pace as he goes, switching between long passes and gingerly sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips.

Every time his tongue smooths over your clit, you jolt. Your emotional nerves are weary, and the way he pulls moans from your mouth and energy from your body has you sinking slowly into relaxing madness. With one hand braced on the countertop, your other swipes his hair from his forehead.

His eyes meet yours briefly while he brings you closer to bliss. “Thank you,” you moan. He answers by swiping his fingers through your wetness, collecting enough of it and his own saliva to sink them slowly, carefully into your heat.

Your back arches, body wobbling slightly as you try not to move too much. Junmyeon matches his fingers with his tongue, scorching your body into molten lava. Every slow drag of his fingers or his tongue brings you close, fast. He’s making you feel him. Making you take what he’s giving you, and it feels incredible.

Already, he knows your body and your heart and your mind in this type of setting. He knows what you want and what you need and does whatever he can to give that to you and it is terrifying and elating all at once, you think. The culmination of emotions and his skilled tongue and fingers against your core are almost too much.

You want him. With each thrust of his digits inside of you and each lave of his tongue over your clit, you want him to wrap you in his arms and bring you bliss. You want him to reach bliss too, with you.

Moaning at the feeling of your walls fluttering, Junmyeon increases his pressure. He switches to drive as deep as he can while he pulls your bud between his lips and sucks.

“Junmyeon...” you warn. Words aren’t your strong suit right now while he worships your body, “Fuck... ‘Myeon, you.” Your fingers scabble and clutch at him, attempting to get him to stand.

He seems to understand what you’re asking for, but refuses. Releasing you from his mouth, he kisses at your pubic bone, “After. Right now is for you.”

Desperate for him to wrap you in his arms, you pull him up anyway. “Kiss,” you whimper. Keeping his fingers in place and moving his thumb to replace his tongue, he complies with your wishes.

It satiates your need for his closeness. His lips are soft and warm and slow against your own, much like his pace to drag out your pleasure and make you feel it. Junmyeon seems to sense your desire for him in such a way, bringing his free hand to pull you against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Now, he redoubles his effort to push you into paradise. He doesn’t go any faster, but you don’t mind. A slow, strong pace is just as good, even cramped up on the countertop and against his chest.

You can feel the warmth of his heart and his skin like this. You can hear every breath he takes in the cramped space, and smell the last hints of his cologne. As if you wanted to absorb him into your very skin, he is the soothing balm to your anxiety.

Suddenly his fingers angle and grind just slightly against a place that has you keening against him and tightening your hand on his shoulder with a breathy moan into his mouth. He hits it again in time with his thumb against your clit and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. Junmyeon kisses your lips, your jaw, down to your neck and the slightest moan rises from his throat when he feels your walls tightening.

Two more identical pumps have you falling, moaning out your pleasure as your orgasm rocks through your body and Junmyeon’s stroking never falters it’s attention against your pearl. You spasm, whimpering between his arms and the countertop, until his fingers withdrawing slowly from your core.

When you open your eyes, your heart swells. As beautiful as he is, it’s Junmyeon’s expression that pools more tears in your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, hair mussed from sleep, smiling with stretched lips plump and red. His eyes though, are shining with some expression you can’t place but it makes you feel whole and complete.

Without thinking, your hands pull him even tighter against you until your arms are locking his face against your shoulder. When he hears your first sniffle, there against the warmth and safety of his neck, he pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his palms rising to hold your face gently.

Laughing, you turn away and dab your eyes with the heels of your palms, “Nothing is wrong.”

Your boyfriend stands straight, wide eyes looking baffled by your laughing and crying, “But... you’re crying?”

His pouted lips make you feel even lighter, and you can’t help but laugh, “I feel better.” you explain. Adjusting your posture to get your back out of the uncomfortable position, you pull him back to you again, “Thank you,” you tell him again.

Junmyeon’s arms feel like a comforting blanket when they wrap around you. They’re warm and solid and their weight grounds you to his chest. As your legs wrap around his hips you feel his obvious arousal for you, but he makes no move to acknowledge it.

“We can-” you begin to say, your fingers crawling down his pectoral, but his hand gently grabs yours away.

He pulls it to his face and kisses your palm, “No, this was for you.”

You object, “I know it was, thank you. I loved it, but you’r-”

He kisses you on the lips again, chaste and delicate. “I don’t want you to think it’s just about sex for me. As much as I enjoy it, I just want to be with you right now.” he comments as he cradles you.

You know it deep down that he’s being truthful. Patting his chest instead and giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose, “I haven’t ever thought that was all this was to you, or me, but I understand.”

He smiles back at you, his palms squeezing the backs of your thighs as he hoists you from the countertop and starts his trail to the bathroom with his arms full of you.

It is just like this that you spend the morning showering, making a mess of your kitchen in an awful attempt at omelettes, and snuggling in your bed with coffee. Wrapped up in one another completely, but without any rush to find a finish line. Without any rush for ravishing one another more than with soft kisses and warm skin coddling one another like treasure.

By the time you need to get ready for work you’re on a cloud nine of pleasure completely different from the sexual kind. You feel like nothing could stop you. Everything you’d been spending your time stewing over in the last few weeks has suddenly come to light and had the unexpected outcome, all in a matter of hours.

While you know your fears, reservations and ultimate hesitation about all of it were valid, you can’t help but feel a bit foolish now that it’s all been dissolved so pleasantly. Although it was still awkward when you had to slip one pill while you prepared your mug of coffee, it wasn’t making your skin prickle. Even with Junmyeon’s eyes on you as it passed your lips, all he did was smile at you as if you were the sun.

You’re a little sad to kiss him goodbye just inside your apartment before you opened the door to part ways. He let you go first, considering you were pushing the clock as it was to be on time for work.

____________________________________

Five days later, you’re still unable to get the smile off of your face. You can’t remember how many times you’ve cried happy tears over the last few days. Whether in your apartment alone, or face-timing with your boyfriend of talking to Soohyun or Sehun. It is still summer, your favorite season. There’s a cash flow with your work as usual, Junmyeon is busy with work but at least he is home. School doesn’t start for another month.

July heat is the best, you think to yourself as you step out of your apartment building. On the busy streets of the city, people buzz around like bees not unlike a hive and the sun is hot where it kisses your skin. With tall buildings surrounding the area, there’s a constant and soft breeze.

On the subway, there seems to be less people. Here where the air conditioning cools your skin, your nerves also relax without the crowds. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, so far less bodies are crammed into the cars as you take the red line north four stops.

Opening your messages, you check over your shoulder as your type in a quick one to let your lover know you’re about twenty minutes away. Staring at the screen of your conversation, three dots pop up before it even goes dim, followed by his response.

‘Call me when you’re close. xo’

From the weeks of text message conversations, you’re able to tell what he’s feeling. His lightning response gives away his excitement. Imagining him pacing the floor or stressing about the members or about you being in his home for the first time brings a girlish smile to your lips.

The proper route comes and goes and you pull the brim of the black hat on your head lower. One of his in fact, that you’re borrowing for cover as you thrust yourself back into throngs of people on the street.

Three blocks west, you decide, is close enough to press the call button beside his name. He answers on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks expectantly.

His voice makes you smile, “I’m a block away.”

Junmyeon hums into the receiver, “I’m coming down. You know what building, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, ducking between two older looking buildings and cutting across a parking garage. You smile apologetically at the garage guard as you pass, exiting from the opposite side.

“I think I’m here?” you comment, “but I don’t see you.”

A door buzzes behind you. “Over here,” he laughs into his phone. You spin, seeing him standing in the apartment building doorway, just behind an iron gate. He looks like he just got back from the gym, with sweaty skin and a towel resting around his shoulders.

You end the call and race through the gate to him, squishing his flushed cheeks between your palms. He pulls away laughing, towing you through the door of the building and up to the lobby.

A kiss in the elevator quells the racing of your heart to a comfortable and steady beating. “Relax. Half of them are out anyway,” Junmyeon says against your lips, noticing the way you fidget with your fingers.

Shyly, you smile up at him, “I know I shouldn’t be nervous but it’s my first time being at your place.”

He barks out a laugh as you walk down the hall to their dorm, “You’ve met everyone and they all know about us. Don’t feel like you have to hide here. I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m content to come over, I promise. I’ll admit I’ve been curious about how eight men cram into one large apartment together.”

“Well Minseok doesn’t count. He doesn’t live here anymore,” Junmyeon reaches their door, but doesn’t open it yet.

“Honestly, most of us aren’t all here at the same time anyway,” he comments, “For example, right now it’s just Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Jongin and myself. I think Jongdae went out and Sehun and Chanyeol are in L.A.”

You nod in understanding, “That would explain why Soohyun has been so mopey lately.” Both of you laugh at the unusual friendship between your closest friends.

When he opens the door, you’re not sure what you expected to be honest. The first thing you notice are the shoes. All of the shoes. On shoe racks and on the floor and in over-the-door shoe holders. Just shoes. A couple of coats hang on hooks beside the door, too.

Your laughter bursts forth from your lips in a grin and Junmyeon turns to you, confused by your outburst, “Well what did you expect?” he asks with a smile and raised brows.

His pouted lips only make you laugh harder, obnoxiously at your own ridiculouness because he is right, what did you expect? Shoes certainly seem appropriate, “I’m sorry. It’s just funny.”

Shaking his head, he takes your hand and guides you into the main area. To your left is the kitchen, all white sans the appliances. Standing in one corner of it fussing over a rice cooker is Kyungsoo. His expression has just a hint of a smile as he notices your fingers tangled with his hyung’s.

“Hello. Welcome,” he greets in a soft voice, “I know it’s a bit late for lunch, but I hope you like Spicy Braised Chicken.”

Immediately, you’re whelmed with a sense of wholesome hospitality by him. You notice it’s the first time he has spoken to you directly. You bow to him, “Thank you so much.”

He accepts, turning back to his task. “Do you need a drink?” Junmyeon asks you. The coffee pot on the counter gurgles as it finishes making a pot. It smells wonderful.

A door opens across the living room while you shake your head. Baekhyun emerges from it in a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie, his hair messy and damp.

“Ahh, Y/N! Welcome!” he smiles at you with a grin that grows in width the closer he approaches. “Shower’s free, hyung.” he says to your boyfriend.

Junmyeon turns to narrow his eyes at the open bathroom, deciding against it, "No thanks. Jongin should be done, I'll go use my own."

Your lover pulls his hand away from yours momentarily, “I’ll be right back, okay?” He turns to wash up, calling over his shoulder, “Tell Kyungsoo if Hyunnie does anything stupid.”

The older of the two remaining moves past you into the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he pulls a Spiderman mug down from the space, “Do you want some?” he asks, gesturing to the coffee pot.

“Yes, please,” you answer happily.

Baekhyun smiles, “Iron Man, Thor, or... Groot?”

You scoff, “Iron Man is superior in every way.”

He laughs wickedly, “Oh, Chanyeol is going to fall in love with her.” he comments to Kyungsoo, grinning with a shake of his head as he hands you the mug.

You ignore his comment altogether, thankful that he doesn’t pry. Instead, he moves across to the fridge and pulls out a carton of cream, setting it and a sugar decanter in front of you, “Ladies first.”

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making your cup and asking, “Do you have ice?”

Baekhyun looks at you for a moment, tilting his head and moving to the fridge once more, “Sure. How many?”

“Just two, please.” You reply, presenting your mug to him as he plops two cubes into it. You watch him make his own. Just a hint of cream in the bottom, followed by half of the mug filled with coffee before moving to the freezer and filling to the brim with ice.

A door opens and closes somewhere in the apartment and your eyes catch a golden chest entering the living room. “Dude,” Baekhyun caws at him just as he turns back from the freezer, “We’ve got company. Go put a shirt on.”

Jongin’s head snaps up, embarrassed that he’s been scolded, “Oh! Sorry,” he laughs. Always that same familiar laugh that you can pick out from a crowd. He disappears down the hallway.

You giggle with a wave to him, “I don’t want any of you to feel uncomfortable on my behalf! Please don’t change anything about your routines just because I’m here.”

Baekhyun waves you off with a scoff, “No no, this is good. I’m tired of being the only one who ever wears clothes around here.”

“Yah,” comes Kyungsoo’s immediate warning from behind Baekhyun.

The elder huffs, “You don’t count.”

You laugh at the expression Kyungsoo makes, staring death into the back of Baekhyun’s head. Once you’re sure you won’t spew it, you safely drink the coffee cooling slowly in your hands.

The youngest comes out once more wearing a sleeveless tee, smiling at you warmly, “Sorry about that. I forgot you were coming over.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like the world hasn’t seen it,” you remind him with a shrug. The honesty of your statement makes all of them laugh.

“So what do you think of our humble abode? Be honest with us, it’s messy isn’t it? Especially without Minseok hyung here it’s hard to keep organized,” Jongin asks with a laugh.

“I really don’t know what I was expecting. It’s fine the way it is I think?” you smile, sipping at your drink.

“Let us show you around? I’m obviously in someone’s way.” Baekhyun says, eyes glancing to Kyungsoo.

“I’m used to it,” Kyungsoo murmurs at him, kicking at the back of Baekhyun’s knee.

Jongin falls into step beside you, following Baekhyun three feet into the living room. A huge television hangs from the center of the longest wall. A large couch and two arm chairs take up most of the floor facing it, with a stack of flannel shirts laying over the back of one chair. A small pile of colored laundry crowds one corner of the couch beside a stack of folded clothes of the same hues.

There are different odds and ends around the shelves. Some figurines and other items, a tall fern in a planter in one corner. Several gaming consoles below the television with a small stack of games and a Lego model of some sort of space craft. Three controllers rest on the coffee table with two remotes and a headset. A massive analog clock ticks rhythmically on the wall opposite the television.

“So this is one bathroom. Feel free to use either of them anytime,” Baekhyun says, stepping across the room to open the door he came from earlier. He moves to the right and opens a door, peering inside, “This is mine and Chanyeol’s room.”

Two beds on opposite walls and several instruments lining the wall on one side. Books and handheld video games crowd a bookshelf on the other side. One dresser below a window along a shared wall has several pieces of jewelry, watches and eyeglasses. Several bucket hats are stuffed on top of one another on one bedpost, and an assortment of hooks installed on the wall over the other bed has a collection of baseball caps hanging from different hooks.

Baekhyun doesn’t say much, rather he leaves the door open and moves back out into the main area. He moves toward the front door to open a room you didn’t realize was there. “This is a shared closet.” he smiles, walking inside.

Overwhelming might be an understatement in regards to this room. Tension rods line the walls all the way to the ceiling and boxes of shoes are stacked neatly around the bottom of the walls. The amount of clothes is astounding, but you almost thought it would be less organized.

No doubt one of the neater members must handle the laundry, as everything, for the most part, is organized. Pants hang from the lowest rows, tops on the upper. Brightly colored standing tags separate the clothes by initials. You read Baekhyun’s first, followed by Chanyeol’s. Then Jongin and Kyungsoo’s, followed lastly by Sehun and Jongdae’s.

“Where does Junmyeon keep his clothes?” you wonder aloud when you notice his initials are missing.

“Ah,” Jongin says, waving you along to the next part of the flat. You follow him down the hall he came from earlier, cutting back across the living room to the opposite side. Four doors, two on either side.

The tanned man pauses beside the first on the left, “First, this is the other bathroom," he pauses with an impish smile. You narrow your eyes at his mischievous grin. "It’s occupied right now,” he giggles, moving away to the next door beside it, “Here’s mine and Kyungsoo’s room,” he pushes the door open with his foot, casually shrugging.

There’s a large television on one wall and below it on a shelf is a console you don’t recognize. A few more Lego models are spread on shelves. Beds are stacked one on top of the other against the opposite wall. There is a large stuffed teddy sitting against the bed frame on the floor. Otherwise, this room appears perfectly tidy and not like two guys share it.

“Across from it is Sehun and Jongdae’s room. We won’t go in though since they’re not here,” Baekhyun comments.

The taller man smirks, “It’s probably a mess anyway.”

Just as they’re about to open the last door to what you’re assuming is Junmyeon’s room, the bathroom door opens. You get a slight sense of deja vu from the steam that wafts into your face.

“What are you doing?” he demands, one fist clutching a towel around his waist.

Both Jongin and Baekhyun look between the two of you with devilish grins. Baekhyun clears his throat, “We were giving her a tour. Yours is the last place.”

Junmyeon sighs, serving each of the men a look before he turns his attention to you, fiddling with the mug in your hands, “Okay. Come on, then.”

He moves briskly between the three of you, opening the door across from the bathroom and taking you by the hand to follow him inside. His eyes find both of the idols outside his door simpering like wolves as he shuts it firmly.

Your heart begins beating loudly again, here in the silence of your boyfriends room for the first time, and you laugh.

“Remember that time you told me you felt like a college kid kicking out his roommate when you kicked Sehun out of your hotel room?” you ask him through your giggling.

He turns away from his spacious closet with his clothes in his hands, “Does this situation feel similar?” There’s a telling smile dancing along his lips.

You nod at him, “Somewhat. My heart is pounding for no reason at all.”

Glorious as his naked frame may be, your eyes trail around his room while he dresses. You let your fingers stroke along spines of books lining some shelves. A collection of rings sits in a bowl on a nightstand beside his bed, along with a heavy watch.

A bicycle leans against the wall near the end of his bed. That yellow checkered flannel you know he loves is hanging over the handlebars.

“Come here,” his voice asks calmly. Fingertips brush your sides at the same time, turning you in his arms as he sits down at the end of his bed. He's decidedly comfortable looking in his gray sweats and simple tee.

You smile happily, curling your arms around his head and stroking through the damp strands of hair as you stand between his legs.

A sigh of content leaves Junmyeon’s lips, “Thanks for coming,” he whispers against your chest.

Squeezing a little tighter, you hum, “Happy to. I missed you.”

After a moment he pulls away, scooting back to lay properly on his linens. He taps at his own chest twice, fingers making motions for you to join him.

“You know there are two mischievous wolves right outside that door, correct?” you ask him incredulously. As if you think he’s going to initiate something sexual.

He huffs in disbelief at you, “Yah, I just want to cuddle and watch a movie. I’m innocent I swear.”

You set your mug down on his nightstand, diving onto him with a howl of laughter, “Just checking.”

Junmyeon grins cheekily at you, reaching for the remote, “Are we actually going to Netflix and chill or...?” you ask him again with a smirk, letting your lips trail his jaw.

He tuts at you, shaking his head, “You’re testing my willpower.” His eyes follow your lips as they pout at him.

“It’s just that you haven’t kissed me since I got here.”

He laughs. A cheerful burst that makes your heart soar, “I remember kissing you in the elevator.”

You know he’s caught you, but you also know he will indulge you no matter what excuse you give him, “I don’t seem to remember that. You’ll have to remind me...” you start, adding, “Besides, that wouldn’t count.”

He cocks one brow at you, but his hand is already climbing your arm to your neck, “Oh? Why wouldn’t it?”

Trying your hardest to put on the full power of your cute pouting, “Technically I wasn’t here here yet. We hadn’t come inside.”

Junmyeon pulls you toward him, his hand warm and electrifying at the back of your neck. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, slowly, he lets his smiling lips meet yours softly.

You urge him to lay back, flattening your palms over his chest as his own hand pulls your hip down, slotting you against his side. His mouth takes your own, slowly and heavily repeating lip locks until your urgency for him climbs.

Politely, he pulls you from him, “Is that what you wanted?” he whispers to you calmly, grinning at your neediness.

“I want more,” you whine in return.

He smiles wider, eyes crinkling in delight at your cuteness, “You’re the one who just said there are two wolves right outside my door.”

Opening your mouth to retort, no words come so you close it again.

Junmyeon maneuvers you to lay comfortably against him, “Relax. There’s time for that later.”

You don’t question him further this time, your brain comprehending how serene you feel curled up against his side. He’s freshly clean and the scent of him from the shower is heavy in a good way. You let your fingers crawl just under his shirt as your ears are greeted by the Netflix app opening on his television.

Junmyeon sighs happily, flat on his back with an arm curled around you. His voice is quiet when he invites you to make a selection, “What do you want to watch?”

Your eyes feel weighted, not resisting their closure as you relax into him, “I’m not picky. Just not something loud.”

The last thing you remember is Junmyeon’s arm pulling you tighter against him and his lips against your forehead.

An hour has passed before you jolt awake, startled by Junmyeon’s body beneath you also startling awake. Blinking, Baekhyun stands in the open doorway of his room with a nerf gun cocked and ready.

You peek at Junmyeon, who has a hand over his face and an orange foam bullet on his chest, “Come eat!” the intruder screeches in a sing-song voice, shooting Junmyeon in the arm once more for good measure.

Grimacing, your eyes find your boyfriend’s from beneath his hand, “You know he’ll be back, right?” you whisper to him with a stretch. Your arm reaches around his neck, pulling yourself up onto his hips.

He takes one deep breath and stretches too, sitting up quickly and wrapping you in his arms. Junmyeon doesn’t say anything else.

Laughing, you smooth your fingers over his hair, “Oh my god your bedhead.”

He smiles, “Is it bad?”

You slide off of his lap, eyes landing on a navy beanie on top of a pile of folded clothes in his open closet. You rake your nails over his scalp, brushing his bangs from his forehead as you stuff the beanie over it.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he grins, kissing you on the nose as he stands. You remember the empty mug on his nightstand and reach for it.

Together you walk into the kitchen just as Kyungsoo is setting the pot on the table. It’s set for five, so it looks like Jongdae won’t be home to join you. You cross the kitchen to place the dish in the sink, turning to Kyungsoo, “Anything I can help with?” you inquire of him.

“I must admit I’m a little disappointed,” Baekhyun chimes in, sighing wistfully. “I was hoping to walk in on something a little more...” he trails off, his shoulders and brows dancing up and down.

You turn away from the quietest member for a moment, noticing the nerf gun is absent and crossing your arms with a sickening smile, “Go ahead. Finish your sentence, I dare you.”

Baekhyun’s mouth hangs open briefly, caught off guard by your threat. His eyes flit between you and Junmyeon, thinking perhaps something was wrong.

Junmyeon pouts at him with a cocky stare and a one raised brow, “You heard her. Go ahead, I won’t stop her from killing you when you’re finished.”

Kyungsoo smiles at that, “I’d very much like to watch.”

Unexpectedly, his response has you in stitches. Baekhyun sucks in a dramatic breath, mouth agape, “Yah!” His mock offense fizzles into a giggling that spreads around the room as you seat yourselves at the table.

“Thank you for cooking.” you bow to Kyungsoo politely.

Hesitantly, he smiles at you in return, “Anytime.”

After the meal, you try to help clear the dishes, but Baekhyun ushers you out of the kitchen. The battle between his warm hospitality and mischievous sides are giving you whiplash, but his genuine good nature makes you smile. You feel like this house might sometimes get a little cold without him, and it makes you glad for Junmyeon.

Full from the meal, you stop to use the bathroom and wash your hands before launching yourself back into Junmyeon’s bed and arms. You double check that you’d locked his door before you turned away from it this time.

“Remind me what we were watching?” you ask cleverly.

Junmyeon snorts, tilting his chin toward the television with a grin, “Did you actually want to watch it?”

With a coquettish smirk, you snuggle yourself comfortably back into his side, “For now, anyway.”

“Okay,” he laughs, “Zombie apocalypse movie it is then.” queuing up Netflix to resume playing the movie.

“I love that this is what you chose to be ‘not loud’,” you comment dryly. His skin is warm where your nose rubs against his arm. Comfortably, you hold it against your frame, letting your head rest on his bicep.

His laughter is silent, but you can feel it shake his chest, “I turned the volume down.”

It doesn’t take long for your boyfriend to grow impatient. Just as a fight sequence is breaking out in one of the train cars with the group of survivors, you feel his fingers teasing at your pants. Just lightly feeling what they can reach in this position, but he’s close to his the bullseye.

Your eyes flick to his face, but his head is turned toward the television across the room. His cheekbones give him away, rising high as he smiles, facing away from you.

Slowly, his dexterous hand works over your shorts. They stop briefly to gauge your interest, continuing their ministrations over your womanhood when you squeeze his bicep and deftly shift your hips toward him.

Junmyeon gently continues, playing a game with you while he pretends to pay attention to the screen he faces. You on the other hand, have given up on anything other than the feel of him touching your heating body.

A quiet moan slips past your lips when he presses harder, rubbing a tight circle with two fingers just where he knows you want him. The sound makes his head turn toward you, full innocent eyes on display.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, voice laced with mocking concern.

Your lips drop open in a pout, “You...” Huffing, you whine in the back of your throat, “After making me wait now you’re going to tease me?”

He grins, tilting his head back, eyes crinkling in delight, “It’s fun to tease you.”

“For you!” you whine at him, subtly grinding your hips into his palm, wrapping both arms around his arm and pushing your breasts into his bicep.

Junmyeon smiles at you, “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” you murmur. He doesn’t bite, but you’ve waited too long and it’s too hot to be comfortable with the heat pooling between your legs.

A loud crash turns his attention back to the television.

With a sigh, you keep your position but let one of your own smooth down the front of your body. You want relief, and if he’s going to tease, you’ll tease right back. “Fine. I’ll just do it myself,” you state matter-of-factly, batting his fingers out of the way so you can touch yourself.

Immediately, Junmyeon’s eyes are wide, attention focused on you. He’s amused, “Only if I get to watch.”

“I don’t care.” you pout, rolling onto your back and into a relaxing position. Truly, you’re comfortably with your body and don’t feel shy about it. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked or heard your wanton moans through the receiver of a phone when he is away.

He bites his lip, eyes hungrily watching your hand disappear below the waistband of your shorts. It doesn’t help that your first quiet sounds of pleasure pull a groan from his chest.

“I love seeing you needy,” he purrs, letting his own hand wander down his abdomen to flutter across the front of his pants.

“Thanks, I hate it,” you pout absently, letting your head fall onto his pillow and closing your eyes to concentrate on your growing pleasure. Frustratingly, you realize Junmyeon appears to have no problem with this.

You can hear his breathing, even but drawn out. His eyes are burning your skin, and when you peek your eyes open he levels you with a heady stare. They meet yours, hooded and sultry.

Your palm runs the length of your body while you grind up into your own fingers. Slipping it beneath your top, you pull at the fabric of your bra, yanking the cup down roughly. The material of your shirt against it peaks your nipple immediately and you can hear Junmyeon stifle a groan beside you.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he purrs lowly, rolling onto his side to face you.

Moaning as you chew your lip between your teeth is the only answer he gets. Your hand knows your body well, and with his teasing, you’re already half way there.

Your boyfriend palms himself over his pants, grunting quietly as he watches you. He murmurs praise quietly, “Fuck that’s hot.”

A devilish smile graces your lips, understanding that somewhere here is a fantasy of his you’re indulging. It would be a lie to say it isn’t turning you on further.

Fun as it is, you’re still upset he would rather tease than touch you. “Junmyeon,” you whine at him, straining your head toward him.

“Yes?” he coos at you, struggling to keep his composure.

“Kiss me,” you breath. “Please,” you whisper while your fingers work faster against your clit.

He doesn’t hesitate to cradle your neck in his hand, tilting you up into a searing kiss that ends with panting breaths between you. Unable to stop himself knowing you’re suffering, his mouth trails hotly down your jaw to your neck.

“So beautiful,” he whispers along the column of your throat with a wet kiss. The low pitch of his voice right in your ear pulls you faster toward oblivion.

Junmyeon’s palm sneaks up the plane of your stomach, squeezing your breast and running the pad of his finger over your nipple in circles, mesmerized by the perking bud beneath the fabric. He kisses you again as you whine, arching into him.

While you mold your mouth to his, you pull your hand from your core, quickly unbutton your shorts and shoving them down your legs. To Junmyeon’s surprise, you’re fisting his shirt urgently. When he opens his eyes again, you let him go, turning to face away from him and wriggling your hips.

He understands easily what you’re asking for. His arms reach for you fully, dragging your back to meet his chest. Briefly, you tease him by gyrating your ass into his obvious erection. The low groan he releases in your ear followed by his sharp intake of breath makes you squeeze your thighs tighter.

“Don’t make me beg,” you plea to him, turning your head to pull his face down to you. He sniggers at the fact that you actually did beg. To your satisfaction, you can feel him stuffing his pants down to his thighs, and a moan works itself from your throat when you finally feel the silken heat of him pressing against the base of your spine.

He slides himself lower, curving himself around your body. Junmyeon lets his hand caress up your thigh and his fingertips flutter by the edge of your mound. They rise high, gripping the fullness of your breast in his palm. Your keening moan makes him smile.

Satisfied with the duration of teasing, he brings his hand back to your thigh, scooping it to hook with his own leg. He knows he doesn’t need to ask, but there’s something about doing it that makes his pleasure spike higher. The verbal affirmation that you need him to fuck you.

So he asks, “Is this what you want?” as he gently moves his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against your seeping folds.

You reach back and thread your fingers into his hair, molding him against you as much as possible. You know what he’s asking for and his reason, so you give him the truth in reply, “Please fuck me, Junmyeon.”

His opposite hand flies to your mouth, covering it the split second you cry out at his intrusion into your heat. He sighs deeply, lips finding purchase at your shoulder to distract himself momentarily.

This position isn’t one you’ve tried before, but you can feel him hitting all of the right places. He shifts his hips back once, holding your leg up still and thrusts shallowly in and out of you.

You groan, dropping your head back against his shoulder and hands holding onto his arm. Your fingers busy themselves smoothing over the length of his flexing muscles keeping you against him as he rocks into you.

Every breath you swallow is small, trying to take in adequate oxygen with your throat stretched back to kiss beneath his jaw. The man attached to you grits his teeth, denying himself the urge to move as hard as he wants. The sound of your panting just under his ear, the feel of your heated skin pressed completely against him and the velvet heaven of your walls beginning to constrict him feel amazing.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, “Touch yourself,” he demands. It surprises you, but his words also set a scorching flush across your cheeks. Complying with his request, you gather the slick seeping from your folds and rub tight circles over your clit, moaning loudly with the pleasure.

Junmyeon tries to ignore the thought in the back of his head that his younger members can probably hear you, but he’s beginning to care a lot less about it with every tight squeeze of your walls around him. He kisses at the juncture of your neck once, twice.

With the sudden urge to do so, he bites you, sucking your flesh harshly. The whimper you release gives way to a moan and you seize against him, muscles tense everywhere except for your throbbing core as you come around him.

“Fuck, fuck, Jun baby, yes,” you pant, forcing your hips back into him roughly, trying to meet him for every thrust, but it’s hard to tell when your entire body feels like cotton candy pleasure. Your nails dig into his forearm pressing into your chest. He hisses and starts to move his hips at a harsh pace.

Briefly whining, his own oxygen barely enough with every ragged breath he drags into his lungs, “Oh, my god.”

Junmyeon isn’t normally one to feel embarrassed, but the explicit sound of his cock burying into and out of your wetness paints his cheeks in a blush that makes him feel like his face and ears are on fire. The sounds of your pleasure are obvious even over the movie playing in the background.

“Fuck, I’m,” he chokes out to you, mouthing over your shoulder again. Something about the intimacy of this position- he fucking adores it. Letting his mind race with thoughts of you; with the feeling of you pressed so completely against him rips his orgasm from his soul.

Junmyeon outright moans against your neck and his fingertips are pressing harder into your thigh. He feels you shudder against him, nearly purring from hypersensitivity with his last few thrusts.

His hips slow, and somewhere in your blissed out consciousness, you can feel his heart hammering against your back.

He pulls out of you and scoots back a fraction before flopping onto his back, spreading his arms wide. You roll onto yours too, laughing into the air. Neither of you speak for a while, perfectly satisfied to clean up with tissues from his night stand.

After, you decide to ditch your shorts and curl up at his side with a smile. He picks a drama you’ve both already seen, but it’s agreeable to half-watch while you dose in the warm sunlight casting his room in an orange glow as it slowly lowers from the sky.

Junmyeon kisses you gently two episodes later during the fifteen seconds it takes to begin the next one. “Can you stay?” he whispers to your forehead, threading his fingers through your hair and letting the strands fall.

"Stay what, awake?" you snort in question.

He laughs quietly, giving your clothed chest a light smack and watching fondly as it bounces. Once it stills, he answers, "The night."

Content, you smile up at him, “Are you sure that’s okay? Don’t you have an early schedule tomorrow?” You bite your lip, waiting. The fact that you're probably the most relaxed you've been in months is not lost on you, and you admit you're reluctant to leave.

He hums back at you with a smile, “Not until noon.”

You lift your head, eyeing the time displayed on your phone where it rests beside his on the nightstand, “It’s only nine-thirty.”

You can feel his lips stretch into a smile and his chest compress with his chuckle, “I’m so tired though.”

Laying your head back to his shoulder, you snuggle closer to him. “Me, too.” you giggle with a yawn.

______________________________

A gentle knocking on Junmyeon’s door rouses you from sleep. You idly recall taking turns getting up to wash your face, surprised by the lack of other people toiling about to tease you. You remember coming back to his plush bed and cradling his arm against you before you drifted off somewhere around eleven. Sitting up, you notice it’s only just after eight now.

You smile at him while he sleeps peacefully beside you. Even in the peak of Summer, you’re both the type to need some sort of blanket when you sleep. The thin sheets of his bed are tangled around his calves now, with the cuff of his sweats bunched up just below each knee. His palm rests flat on his exposed abdomen and the tee he wore to bed has shifted up to his sternum.

The sight pulls a soft laugh from your lips as you crawl over him, curious about the knocking. Your shorts are folded over a chair beside his closet door. Pulling them on and flattening your palms over your hair, you unlock it and peek out into the hallway.

Your expression morphs into confusion when you don’t find anyone on the other side. The strong smell of coffee wafts up from below, and you spot a tray sitting on the floor in front of you with two mugs on it and a note.

Crouching down, you pluck the note from between them. A noise in the kitchen distracts your attention momentarily, but you’re still too sleepy to investigate.

‘Sorry about yesterday’s behavior. I’m really glad hyung has you. -B.’

Peering down at the mugs, you notice he’s crafted two cups of coffee, assuming exactly the way you both like them. The one on the left is in a solid reg mug, and the one on the right is in an Iron Man mug. Two ice cubes have almost melted in the lighter colored liquid, just the way you like it.

Your heart melts right along with the ice in your mug as you carefully pick it up and carry it into the room. Scooting aside a book on his entertainment center, you balance the tray in one hand and slide it onto the surface. Looking to Junmyeon, you pick up the mugs and set your own down on his nightstand beside your dying phone.

Perching on the edge of the bed, you cradle his coffee in one hand, enjoying the warmth while your remaining hand softly combs his hair away from his forehead.

An eyebrow ticks upward and he takes a deep breath as he enters consciousness. One dark eye cracks open and he immediately smiles, "Hi."

"Hi," you smile back at him. "Baekhyun made us apology coffee," you murmur to him, holding his own up for him to take.

Junmyeon frowns in confusion, "Apology coffee? Are we sure it's not a trap?"

You lightly smack him in the arm, laughing. You pass him his mug as he sits up, rising to pluck the note from the tray across the room.

"Seems legit to me. He even made mine the way I took it yesterday," you comment, pulling it from its place beside the bed.

Junmyeon reads the note with a fond smile stretching his lips and cheeks, but says nothing otherwise. He takes a careful sip of the hot drink. Appeased, he sets it down and pulls you close, cuddling you into his arms.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask with a grin, desperately trying not to spill your own coffee all over his bed.

Junmyeon pulls his head away from you to meet yours eyes. His smile is radiant, content to say "I'm happy."

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