#someone bet me I wouldn’t post an angst fic first | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkshort · 1 year

Text

Chapter warnings: smut (m masturbation), language

Chapter Three

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You were nervous about the office dynamic once you broke up with Justin. That following Monday, you walked into the department and risked a glance over to his desk. He was hunched over his keyboard, burying himself in some report, looking mildly panicked. You frowned as you made your way to your chair and slunk down, punching in your password while you waited for your computer to boot up.

Colleen popped up quietly behind you.

"Sooooo? How was camping?” she whispered with a huge grin on her face. "Tell me all the details!”

She propped herself against the edge of your desk, trying not to draw Justin’s attention.

“I broke up with him,” you whispered back, eyes wide. You needed to tell someone, your nerves were on fire. You knew you shouldn’t have told the queen of gossip, but people would have figured it out soon enough. Colleen’s jaw dropped.

"What?! Why?” she whispered back, but louder than the first time. You put a finger up to your lips, indicating she was being too loud.

"I don’t know, I just don’t feel the same way he does. He’s a sweet guy, but there’s no spark. I didn’t want to lead him on,” you told her, and turned back to your computer, opening your email program.

“Well, your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I don’t think he’s got the time to be upset over it. He came in this morning to an email from Joel, with Heather cc’d, wanting a full breakdown on the 401K contributions for the past 6 months. Apparently, he caught some discrepancy, and he wants answers first thing this morning,” she said, raising her head a few inches to glance over the top of your cubical wall in his direction. “He must be shitting his pants; Joel never contacts any of us directly. I don’t think he even knows most of our names.”

You felt guilty as relief flooded through you. At least there was a distraction from the elephant in the room.

About an hour later, Heather came to collect Justin. He followed her out of the room with a folder tucked under his arm and nervously running a hand through his hair. As he walked by your desk, he gave you a tight-lipped smile, which you returned. At least he wasn’t the type of guy to be an asshole about being dumped.

It had been three hours since Justin and Heather left for their meeting. At this point, his absence was painfully obvious to the whole room, and everybody had given up on trying to be discreet.

The whole department had rolled their desk chairs out to the openings of their respective cubes so they could all see one another as they gossiped and speculated wildly. All except for you. You tried your best to stay out of it, but you kept overhearing everyone’s chatter, and it was incredibly distracting.

“They couldn’t possibly still be talking about a minor discrepancy, could they?” one person asked.

“No way, something happened by now. Oh my God, what if he was stealing from our 401Ks? I read a newspaper article about someone doing that last week!”

“Oh come on, Justin wouldn’t do that,” Colleen chimed in. “I bet they finished up their meeting a long time ago, and he and Heather are in her office doing a deeper dive into the numbers together.”

Everyone went quiet for half a second when the electronic beeping of the door keypad caught the attention of the room. Chairs were hurriedly being pushed back up against desks, and fingers furiously typed, trying to log back into computers that had been long asleep during the gossip.

Heather walked into the hushed room with an empty banker’s box in her hands and headed straight for Justin’s desk. She set it down on his chair and turned to address the room openly.

"Hey guys, I’m sorry I didn’t have the time to call a formal meeting, but I wanted to tell you all personally before the email from HR comes out... Justin quit this morning.” She paused when a couple of people quietly gasped and exchanged looks. “Now I know we are going to have some big shoes to fill, I may call upon some of you to help and do some overtime until we can find a suitable candidate to take his position. As always, if any of you want to recommend anyone you know, my door is always open. But for now, we will just have to make do. Does anyone have any questions? You know I like to be transparent with you.”

Heather glanced around the room of stunned faces. Everyone was wondering the same question, but nobody had the nerve to ask it, until Debbie spoke up from behind you.

"Why did he quit? Was it Joel?” She was standing outside her cube, frowning with her arms crossed, no doubt feeling some residual anger from when Cheryl quit just a few short months ago. Your boss sighed, and slowly nodded.

"Yes. Well, yes and no. Joel really grilled him in that meeting this morning, it went a full hour. I did everything I could to take some of the heat, but Joel was just dialed in on Justin today, I don’t know what got into him. He had a million questions, one after another, and it eventually got to a point where he was outright questioning Justin’s job performance and skillset. It finally got to be too much for him, and Justin announced he was quitting.” Heather paused for a moment and looked around the room at the team. She turned and pulled Justin’s chair from his desk, moving the empty box to the floor. She sat down, looking as if she was exhausted from just recounting the events from the meeting. She rubbed her pointer and middle fingers against her temples for a moment, and then continued.

“Joel didn’t say anything wrong; this is his company, and he has every right to ask those questions… he just has such a harsh way of addressing things. It is a lot to handle. I managed to grab Justin at the elevators and took him back to my office for a while. I tried to convince him to stay but he just wouldn’t hear it, he had his mind made up. I’m sorry guys, I really tried. I know this will put a burden on some of you, I will do my best to fill the position as soon as I can.”

The keypad that operated the door started chiming, and in walked Mike from the mailroom. He had his head down, looking at the pile of mail in his cart, bopping along to the music feeding through his CD player and into his headphones, oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. He stopped at your desk like usual and dropped a big stack of envelopes in your inbox, gave you a quick smile, and turned to leave.

Heather quietly began filling the box with Justin’s personal effects, looking like she desperately needed a cigarette or a coffee break. Or both.

You exchanged a quick glance with Colleen, one that said ‘we are definitely going to talk more about this when she leaves’. Then you noticed the envelope at the very top of your mail pile: Sullivan Agency, LLC.

Your heart thudded in your chest. It was a strange feeling – your body was waging a war within you: relief vs fear. Relief that you didn’t have to pay Mr. Sullivan’s balance out of your paycheck, but fear that you would now have to go to Joel’s office as he requested and tell him about the check.

You shakily opened the envelope and sure enough, as promised, was a check for the full balance due on his account.

You stood up, feeling slightly lightheaded as you made your way over to Heather. She jumped slightly when you quietly said her name.

"I just got the check from Mr. Sullivan. What should I do? Should I just email Joel and tell him it came, or do we really have to go to his office?”

You prayed she would tell you to just email him, but unfortunately, she said “We should tell him in person, I don’t want to make him even more mad.” She stopped organizing Justin’s picture frames and buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to collect herself. She raised her head up, clasped her hands in front of her mouth in thought, then turned in the chair towards you.

“I really hate to ask you this… do you mind going up to his office by yourself? He’s had enough of me today, and quite frankly I’ve had enough of him, too. He seemed to take a liking to you, it won’t be that bad, it'll be quick.”

She looked at you hopefully, desperately, eyes begging, but followed up with “If you are really uncomfortable, I can go with you, it’s just...” her gaze drifted back to Justin’s desk, and the enormity of just how much work this put on her plate was likely hitting home. Updating a job description, meeting with HR, creating the job posting, screening applicants… the list went on.

You shook your head, always the people pleaser you said, “I got it, don’t worry, I will go up there right now and just get it over with."

You gave her a small smile as relief flooded her face. Heather asked if you were sure, and you promised her you were. Before your resolve broke, you turned on your heel and left, heading towards the elevator.

The moment the elevator opened and you stepped out onto the 10th floor, your heart lept into your throat. The nerves were finally catching up with you. You looked up and saw a small desk situated between two closed doors. Behind the desk sat a kindly looking older woman. She had hair so grey that it looked almost blue, and it was woven on top of her head into a conical shape. She looked up at you through her plastic pink framed glasses, which were adorned with a chain that wrapped around the back of her neck so she wouldn’t lose them. She smiled at you warmly, her bright pink lipstick somewhat smudged on her front tooth and beckoned you over. Your eyes flicked to her name plate - Ruby Potter - as you returned her smile and walked over.

“Hi there, dear, who are you here to see?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Miller," you said without thinking. Ruby chuckled.

"Dear, they are both ‘Mr. Miller’. Which one?”

"J-Joel, I’m here to see Joel. I have a check for him," you stuttered, your cheeks warming from embarrassment.

She picked up her phone and punched one of the buttons on her speed dial, lazily lifting the headset to her ear.

"You have an accountant here to see you,” she said. She had forgotten to ask your name. You tried to mouth it to her, but she waved you away, as if she did this all the time. You couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the phone, but you could hear the tone – it was sharp and aggravated. Ruby seemed unphased. Once the other end of the line went silent, Ruby said “So do you want me to send her in, or not?” She nodded with whatever Joel said in response and hung up the phone.

“Go right on in, dear. His office is that one.” She languidly pointed to her right, your left, and then turned her attention back to her computer. You took a moment to appreciate the elderly woman’s ease. She clearly dealt with Joel’s wrath countless times, yet she was completely collected. In fact, she sat before you, well past her retirement years, working directly for the man himself without a care in the world.

That gave you a small confidence boost. If Ruby could handle Joel, so could you. Afterall, it’s just words. You had a job to do, you did nothing wrong, you are here because he requested it.

You approached Joel’s office door and gently gave it three quiet knocks. You waited until you heard his acknowledgement to enter. You twisted the doorknob, opened the door just enough so you could squeeze through, and shut it behind you.

Shit, maybe you should have left it cracked. Too late now.

Your eyes locked onto the back of his tall, broad frame as he stood facing away from you, one of his arms resting above his head against the window. He was overlooking the city through the floor length windows as he finished up a call on his cell phone.

You had no idea what he said on the phone, you were far more distracted with how large and strong his shoulders looked in his white button-down shirt. Your gaze slowly traveled down, taking in his dark grey dress pants and noticing how generously they hugged his backside. You only wished he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like before - you wanted to see his muscles twitching under that tanned skin again. You watched in a daze as he lifted his arm from the window and ran his long fingers through his dark curls, wrapping up the phone call.

Get it together, what is wrong with you??

He pushed a button on his cell and began speaking without even turning around.

"What do you need now? I already told you-“ Joel swiveled around to see you standing before him, eyes wide, nervously clutching the envelope in your hands from Mr. Sullivan. He stopped short when he realized you weren’t Heather, and his expression softened a fraction. You must have surprised him, because before he could catch himself, he was raking his eyes up and down your entire frame, sending a shiver up the back of your spine. You were grateful you happened to wear your most flattering light blue sundress today. You thought this morning when you put it on that it would give you the confidence to get through seeing Justin at work for the first time since your break up. You never thought you would need that confidence for this moment.

You meekly cleared your throat.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. You wanted me to tell you when Mr. Sullivan’s check came…” you trailed off, your cheeks feeling warm under his intense gaze. You needed to look somewhere else. You glanced down at the now crumpled envelope in your hand and stretched out your arm to eagerly show him your prize. You were at least 10 feet away from him, barely inside his office at all. It looked ridiculous; he obviously couldn’t take it from you at this range.

He nodded, pursing his lips, and then showed mercy on you when he finally looked away to take the few short strides back to his desk chair. He sat down, glancing back up at you expectantly from across the room.

"Sit.” he ordered, motioning towards one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk.

You responded to his command quickly, and you thought you saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared too fast for you to be sure. You sat down in one of the chairs, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you waited while he scrolled through his emails, looking bored. Looking down at the envelope in your hands, you gently fingered the edges in order to focus your energy somewhere. Why did he want you to sit? This should have been a quick conversation.

Joel cleared his throat, and keeping his eyes on the computer monitor, he began to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. First the left sleeve, then the right, taking his time. He began to methodically roll his left sleeve up, up, up all the way to his elbow, before he leisurely did the same to the right sleeve. You didn’t realize your eyes had snapped up when you saw him begin to uncuff his sleeves, so by the time he finished, you had barely blinked and your lips were slightly parted, breath ever so slightly quickening as he finished his task. You didn’t notice your reaction, but out of the corner of his eye, Joel certainly did. He fought to contain the confident smirk that threatened to spill across his face.

He was right, you had been checking him out in that meeting.

“Give it to me,” he said, turning his probing gaze towards you once again. You looked into his dark, beautiful eyes for a moment, not sure what he meant. Then it came to you. The check.

Wordlessly, you outstretched your hand once again to hand him the envelope. Without breaking eye contact, Joel reached out and took the envelope from your grasp, but in the process grazed two long fingers gently against the back of your hand, sending sparks through your entire body at the contact. You gasped softly, and clamped your mouth shut. You dropped your gaze, embarrassed, while you waited for him to open the envelope and hopefully dismiss you. The tension was too intense, you needed this to end.

Joel didn’t seem to mind the tension in the room, or even notice it for that matter. He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the check within. He took note of the amount as a small yellow post-it fell out. You hadn’t seen that before in your rush to get up to his office, you had no idea what it said.

Joel picked it up and read it thoughtfully to himself. When he didn’t say anything after a minute, you finally spoke.

"What does it say?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

He swallowed before bringing his heated gaze back up to you.

"It says: Thank you for showing me such kindness during my time of need. I’m sorry for the late payment. It won’t happen again.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap, a small smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“You were right this time, but don’t be naïve. Not everyone is always tellin’ you the truth,” he warned, sliding the check and post-it note back into the envelope. You nodded in agreement, still sheepishly looking down at your hands.

Joel gazed at the top of your head as you stared at your lap. He didn't want the conversation to end.

"You’re doin’ a good job," he told you, pausing to reflect for a moment. "Thank you for making that connection with my client. I’m not good at all that. Talkin’ about their personal stuff. That’s more Tommy’s side of things.” He reached across his desk and held out the envelope for you to take back.

You looked up at his outstretched hand, and careful to avoid touching him again, took it.

"Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you replied softly, and stood up from your seat.

You gave Joel a quick smile and turned to head towards the door. Halfway to the exit, you stopped and turned back around, finding Joel’s eyes had yet to leave your body.

“I bet you would be good at it," you said, then your eyes widened as you realized how that sounded. “I-I mean, talking to the clients, learning about them, their personal lives…” you rambled as heat spread across your cheeks.

He stared at you for an awkward moment, considering your words.

“Well, I should be getting back to work,” you said, hitching your thumb to the door behind you, but before you could turn away, Joel stopped you.

"Thanks, sweetheart, maybe I’ll try it sometime,” he said, his expression softer.

You nodded and forced yourself to look away from the uncharacteristically relaxed features on his face. You turned to leave the room, but the door suddenly swung open. You nearly lost your balance, but a strong arm shot out to catch you.

“Jesus, Tommy, would ya watch it?” Joel growled from behind his desk, his expression leaving no traces of the softness you had just witnessed.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t know my brother had anyone in here.” Tommy eyed you up appreciatively and grinned. “I don’t believe we formally met, I’m Tommy,” he stuck out his hand, which you quickly shook and gave him a polite smile, telling him your name.

You hastily made your exit, squeaking out an excuse about work, and shut the door.

“Do ya ever knock?” Joel seethed, but Tommy was too busy staring at the closed door, still thinking about the way your ass looked in your blue dress.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” Tommy said, ignoring his question, and strolled over to a small cluster of framed pictures on the wall that haven’t been updated since they started the business. He leaned in to examine them more closely. “You need to be gettin’ back out there. I won't even give you any shit for dippin’ your pen in the company ink, like you did to me.”

“The hell you on about?” Joel replied, taking the opportunity to adjust himself under his desk while Tommy’s back was still turned. The way you were blushing and squirming in his office had a bigger effect on him than he thought. And you hadn’t even been trying. Not like him, rolling up his sleeves on purpose to see your reaction. He shuddered to think what it would be like if you actually tried to seduce him. He would be a puddle on the floor.

“Nothin’ was goin’ on, she just brought me a check.” Joel stood and walked around the front of his desk, leaning up against the edge of it, arms crossed and surveying the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy chuckled, still examining the photos.

“Yeah, right. She was blushin’ like a whore in church when she left. Ya know, you should really get some new pictures in here. Did ya know you still got this old picture of the bunch of us at that rodeo? It’s got Amy in it.”

Joel sucked in air through his clenched teeth, the rest of his hard on instantly disappearing at the mention of her name.

“Sorry, Joel. It’s been so long, we still ain’t allowed to talk about it?” Tommy walked over behind Joel’s desk and flopped down in his chair, which made Joel have to turn around and sit in the same chair you had just occupied moments before.

“What’s there left to talk about?” Joel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Do you still talk to her? Keep in touch?” Tommy asked, fiddling with a pen on the desk.

“No.” Joel responded harshly. “Why would I? Last I heard, she’s been shacked up with that prick somewhere in the Midwest.”

“It’s been five years, and I still haven’t seen ya go out on a date, coffee, nothin’. Why are you doin’ this to yourself?”

Joel shook his head and stood up, already missing the warmth your body left in the chair.

“I’m just busy, Tommy. Haven’t met anyone worth chasin’," he replied, grabbing a pen and pad of paper from his desk.

“Well, that little lady that just left is well worth chasin’, if you ask me.” Tommy stood up too, and joined Joel as they headed out of the office to the conference room for their next meeting.

“Nobody was askin’, just drop it.” Joel couldn’t have Tommy egging him on, it was already difficult enough to keep his mind off you.

Joel hardly heard a word all throughout their meeting with the Marketing department. He vaguely remembered the head of the department nervously working through a technical error on his presentation, which made IT have to get involved. But Joel barely noticed. All he could think about was you.

You: in that thin, blue dress. He remembered how your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and how you bit down on your lower lip when you tried to hold back a smile. He thought about how soft your skin felt when he gently grazed it with his fingers. How your knees pressed together as you squirmed in your seat, waiting for him to turn his attention to you. But you had no idea that his attention was always on you, even when you weren’t around. It was all consuming, at times overwhelming, the way he constantly recalled images of you in his mind.

Joel was relieved when the IT department could not fix the technical error, and the meeting had to be rescheduled. Everyone in the room held their breath, Tommy included, for Joel’s inevitable outburst, but surprisingly none came.

“Check with Ruby and put it on my schedule,” Joel said, collecting his things and leaving the room.

Tommy stayed behind to chat with the head of Marketing while Joel made a beeline for his office. He shut the door quickly behind him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned his head back on the door.

What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he get you out of his head?

This was Tommy’s fault, had to be. He kept bringing you up and forcing these thoughts into his head.

But it wasn’t Tommy’s fault when his cock jumped after he touched your hand and heard you gasp.

Fuck. This had to stop. He rubbed his hands over his face roughly, then something Tommy said came back to him. It had been a long time since he was with Amy. Tommy was right, he hadn’t been on any dates, he was just sexually frustrated. It was building up, and he needed a release. That would clear his head.

Joel turned and headed towards his private bathroom, which was just a small pocket door in the wall, hardly visible when you first walked in. He went in and locked the door behind him. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already throbbing from the past hour of torture his thoughts have led him on.

Joel gripped the base firmly in his fist, and he squeezed his eyes shut, dreaming of you wearing that dress in his office. This time, when you squeezed your knees together, he imagined you were trying to create some friction to relieve the wet heat between your legs. You were just as turned on as he was in his fantasy. Joel lazily ran his hand up and down his cock, as his imagination kept carrying him away.

He wondered what kind of panties you were wearing under that dress. Maybe they were lace, or a thong. Maybe you weren’t wearing any at all. There we go.

He started running his hand up and down his shaft faster, his breath quickening as his fantasy took hold.

Now he was bunching your dress up around your hips, hitching your leg around his waist as he grabbed onto the back of your neck, bringing you closer so he could suck on the pulse point in your throat, making you moan his name. He pushed you on top of his desk, and you let yourself fall backwards, recklessly shoving papers and files off his desk.

He could feel his release bubbling to the surface now, as his movements became more frantic, and his other hand grasped the towel bar next to the sink for leverage.

Now Joel saw you bouncing on his cock, still wearing that pretty little dress, but your tits were spilled over the top. He pulled one nipple into his mouth, making you cry out and bounce faster, while his fingers brushed gently against the other one. You grabbed the sides of his face and dragged his mouth up to yours, hovering over each other’s mouths, gasping, but still not touching, as you bounced faster, faster, faster…

Joel groaned and desperately reached out to grab a tissue from the box next to the sink, right in time to catch his thick ropes of come. His hips gently thrusted forward as he came down from his high, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut.

He opened his eyes as his breathing returned to normal, glancing around the room to steady himself. He looked down, grateful he didn’t make a mess on his dress pants. He cleaned himself up, flushed the tissue down the toilet, tucked himself back into his pants and went to wash his hands.

He cupped some water from the sink and rinsed his face. Drying himself with the towel, he looked up at the mirror and saw a dirty, old man, who had just jerked off to the thoughts of a much younger employee. The shame was setting in now.

I hope you enjoyed it, you dirty fuck. She would never give you the real thing.

Joel dried his hands, and left the bathroom, feeling guilty, but couldn’t deny he had a much clearer head.

He didn’t see you for at least a full week. That whole week, he felt like himself again. He could see clearly; his thoughts weren’t all jumbled up and he was back to barking orders to his teams on jobsites.

He just needed to jerk off. That’s all it was. No big deal.

Early one morning before most of the employees started their work day, he made his way down to Heather’s office on the 6th floor. She had left him a voicemail saying that the company was being audited, and she needed to speak with him right away. This would require a lot of work from her department, and she needed him to approve the overtime, especially since he scared off your pretty little boyfriend, the department remained shorthanded. He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved in his pockets, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It was quickly becoming his new look, just in case he ran into you.

He turned the corner towards Heather’s office but stopped short when he heard you laughing. He peered around a corner and saw you with some co-workers in the break room.

He was frozen to the ground, taking in your beautiful smile and laugh as you tried not to spill the coffee in your hand. You were wearing a knee-length flowy black skirt, with a V-neck light purple blouse. When you bent over to laugh again, he saw a glimpse of your tits bouncing under your shirt. He held his breath for a moment, trying to will himself forward, when you suddenly looked over and met his gaze.

Your friends didn’t notice him standing there, and you didn’t say anything. You just ran your eyes up and down his body, pausing on his exposed forearms. You gave him a shy smile and a little wave. Before he realized it, he was slowly lifting his hand up in return.

He was fucked.

Chapter Four

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gunilslaugh · 1 year

Note

I'm not the original ask, but the bet fic is sooooooo good. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Could you possibly do a part 2 where they regret it and the reader is doing great? Could you maybe also do an angst ending and happy where they get back together with conditions and time? (If not, that is perfectly fine. Your writing is so good❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)

Thank you! Here is part 2! Only with angst ending though because if I wrote a happy ending too I felt like this post would have been too long. I guess I could do another post with the happy endings if you guys really want though.

All members < ~ _ ~ >

Summary: Xdinary Heroes sincerely regret ever making that bet. They feel horrible for hurting you, but when they run into you they find out that you’re just fine.

WC:~2.8k

Warning:angst

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

“I hope I never see you again.” Gunil keeps hearing you say those words. He remembers the pain in your eyes and the anger in your voice. Your last conversation haunts him. It’s been a few months, but he still plays it over in his head everyday. He feels absolutely horrible. If someone asked him right now what his biggest regret was he would answer making that bet. Betting that he could make you fall in love with him. He doesn’t even have excuses to make about why he did it. Maybe he thought that it would make him seem cool, although how would doing such a horrible thing make him cool? It made him a massive jerk. Perhaps he thought that it could give him some type of street cred, but who would want street cred about being a guy who played with someone’s feelings? Even any possible reasons he tried to think of could never justify for what he did. Gunil is only left with the consequences of it.

Gunil was stopping in to grab a coffee before heading into the studio for the day. Much to his surprise he finds you inside the shop as well. You’re with one of your friends and you look really happy. It makes Gunil feel relieved. He thought that you would still be hurting, like him. However you deserve to be happy and Gunil was about to exit the shop, to let you keep being happy when, “Gunil!” you called him. He was even more surprised, you said you never wanted to see him again. He turns to look at you and finds that you're approaching him.

“Y/n,” he says.

“Can we talk for a minute?” you asked. You just keep surprising him.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. The two of you went and sat at a table. He notices your friend watching him like a hawk, but he knows he deserves it. “You look good,” he said.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I am really sorry about the bet,” he apologizes. You know he is, you can tell by how awful he looks.

“I do believe you. I’ve forgiven you too. I was really upset at first, obviously,” you chuckled. “I healed from it though and I’m doing really well now.”

“I’m glad.”

“You should forgive yourself too, Gunil. I can tell you’re beating yourself up about it. What you did was wrong, but learn from it, move on,” you tell him. Gunil doesn’t want to move on from you, but he can tell from your words that you have moved on from him. He wants you back, but he does not want to ruin your happiness either.

“I’ll try.”

“Good, I should get going now. My friend is waiting,” you say, standing up.

“Right, of course. I need to head into the studio too.” Gunil also stands up.

“Bye.” You waved a simple hand to him.

“Bye.” He also raised a parting hand. Then he watches you walk out of the shop and he’s left feeling a stabbing pain in his heart.

Jungsu

Jungsu didn’t take the money just like he said he wouldn’t. He regrets everything. He never should have made that stupid bet.

“You act like such a nice guy, a caring guy, a sweet guy. And I fell for it.” Jungsu’s head falls into his hands as he recalls your words. Why did he have to make that bet? He could have just dated you normally. Been a nice, caring, sweet guy that you would fall for, but no he wanted to prove that there was more to him than being a nice guy. Even looking back that sounds so stupid. What did he think was wrong with being a nice guy? Jungsu guessed that he did get what he wanted. He doesn’t view himself as a nice guy anymore. He hates himself, thinks that he is pathetic and a horrible person. He hurt you and he will never forgive himself for that.

Jungsu is out wandering the streets. It’s night and the air is chilly. Jungsu didn’t bother to put on a jacket because he didn't care. Presently he didn’t care about himself because he was a horrible person. He thinks he might be going crazy as he sees a person who looks exactly like you coming up to him. There’s no way you would ever willingly approach after what he did to you.

“Jungsu, why are you out here? It’s late and cold.” Jungsu blinks his eyes multiple times. Was it really you? Were you really standing right in front of him? “Jungsu?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Y/n?” His voice almost cracks.

“Hi,” you said.

“I really am sorry, so sorry. I’m a horrible person for what I did. I never should have done it. I regret it so much. I didn’t take the money either for whatever that’s worth,” he began to ramble, leaning forwards. His knees even looked like they might buckle any second.

“Jungsu, Jungsu.” You reached out, taking a hold of his arms, scared that he would fall. “It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m great actually.”

“You do look great,” he voices, looking you over. “I miss you.” he whispered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Thank you,” you said, but you didn’t say that you missed him too. Jungsu understands though. Why would you miss him? He hurt you. “Can you get home ok?” At least you still care about him.

“Yeah.” He straightened himself out. You let go of your hold on his arms and he misses your warmth. “Don’t worry about me. You get home safe,” he tells you.

“I will.” With that you two part ways. Jungsu goes back home to his bed and cries his broken heart out.

Gaon/Jiseok

“That’s how I feel knowing that I was just a bet.” Jiseok sighs, sitting down on his bed. You weren’t just a bet. He knows that you don’t believe him, but it is true. After getting to know you he fell for you too. He stopped caring about the bet. That’s why he never told the members when he found out that you fell for him. They only found out after seeing a “love you” text that you sent him. You don’t know that though and you also don’t know that he returned the money his members paid him for winning. He didn’t want it. It made him feel bad. In fact he was even planning on telling you about the bet, but he didn’t know how to. He knew that telling you about it would risk losing you. He didn’t want to lose you, so he thought he would take the time to plan it all out. Figure out how to tell you in a way that hopefully wouldn’t result in you leaving him.

Alas you found out before he could. He tried to tell you the truth, but you didn’t believe him. He can’t blame you though. Jiseok wanted to explain the situation to you so badly, but he could see how hurt you were. How your trust for him had been broken, so instead he let you go. Watching you walk away he wanted to chase after you, but he knew at the time it wouldn’t do any good.

Now all he can think about is how he should have never made that bet. How he should have called it off. Why didn’t he call it off? Why did he make such a huge mistake?

Jiseok was on his way back to the dorm after finishing up practice when he crossed paths with you. Ironically enough it’s the exact same spot the two of you broke up.

“Hey Jiseok,” you spoke up first.

“Hey,” he said back.

“How have you been?” you asked him.

“Not great, I feel really bad y/n. I did really mean it when I said that I cared about you. I made a mistake not calling the bet off. I regret even making it in the first place too. I’m sorry,” he answers.

“I believe you and I accept your apology.” you tell him.

“Then-”

“Y/n, baby!” A guy comes up, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who’s this?” they ask.

“An old friend,” you told them.

“Nice to meet you,” they say. Jiseok nods.

“Well don’t let me keep you two.” Jiseok excuses himself. He turns back to watch you walk away, in the embrace of another man. Jiseok is left alone with his aching heart.

O.de/Seungmin

Seungmin returned that day from the cafe and immediately started arguing with Hyeongjun.

“Why did you tell them? You ruined everything!” Seungmin yelled as he held Hyeongjun by the collar. The other members were quick to separate them.

“Yes, I know I ruined your fun, but you were just playing with them! You were gonna break up with them after you won the bet. They deserved to know. I couldn’t just let you play with them!” Hyeongjun yelled back. The other members and Seungmin were shocked. They never heard Hyeongjun shout like that before. Seungmin went to his room, slamming the door behind him. He wasn’t actually mad at Hyeongjun for telling you, he was mad at himself. Hyeongjun was right. He was just playing with you. He was gonna break up with you at the end of the three months. However, seeing how hurt you were, being seconds from breaking down. All because of him made him see how awful what he was doing was. He regrets it.

The sights of you walking out of the cafe and the last words you said to Seungmin, “I hope I never see you again.” keep stabbing him in the heart. The event even haunts his dreams and sometimes he wakes up with tears in his eyes. He finds that he misses you. That all those dates he took you on weren't just so he could win the bet. He actually really enjoyed spending time with you. Seungmin thinks of it as karma. It’s what he gets for doing a heinous act. He hopes that you’re doing better than him. That you aren’t still hurting because of an asshole like him.

Seungmin in a convenient store buying some snacks for the form when the bell chimes, alerting that someone has entered. He looked over to the door just in time to see you entering. He briefly thinks about hiding. You did say that you hoped you never saw him again.

“Seungmin!” Before he can even decide you’re calling his name. He’s surprised to say the least. However he is pleasantly shocked to see how good you look. Your eyes are bright, you’re wearing a smile, your outfit is cute.

“Hey y/n,” he greets you a bit awkwardly.

“I’m not mad at you anymore Seungmin,” you inform him. Seungmin doesn’t know what he did to deserve that.

“Thank you. I’m really sorry for what I did. I mean it. I’m not only sorry because Hyeongjun told you. I’ve come to regret what I did. I was being an awful person. I’m sorry I put you through that. You didn’t deserve it…and I miss you too,” he apologized. You can tell he’s sincere.

“Sounds like you did some growing up,” you said. Seungmin nodded. “Don’t hurt the next one,” you tell him. Now Seungmin knows he can’t get you back.

“I won't,” he replied. The two of you say goodbye and Seungmin tries to hold himself together until he gets home.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeonjun really didn’t want to hurt you. He knows that it doesn’t sound believable because if he didn’t want to hurt you then why did he do the bet? Hyeongjun doesn’t have a simple answer for that. Honestly he was interested in you before he even made the bet with his members. In some twisted way the bet gave Hyeongjun the confidence to go up and talk to you. As to why he didn’t call off the bet after your relationship started, Hyeongjun doesn’t know himself. He wished that he had though. He regrets taking the money. He regrets buying something with it. He felt so much guilt that he returned what he had purchased. He also gave the members their money back. Hyeongjun desperately wishes for a time machine. A way where he could go back and fix what he did,but he can’t. He wishes that he tried to explain why he did it, instead of telling you goodbye. Because even if you didn’t believe him at least he would have tried. Maybe one day you would believe him and know the truth. What’s done is done. He has to live with the consequences. The guilt, the pain, the heartache. He’ll deal with it because he knows that he deserves it.

Hyeongjun likes to go to your guy's old spot. To reminisce on the good times you had together. The times where he was just happy to be with you.

“You still come here?” Your voice caught his attention. He turns around to see you. He almost can’t believe it. He thinks that he might be dreaming.

“Yeah, reminds me of good times,” he tells you. You smile. It’s just as beautiful as he remembers.

“It reminds me of good times too,” you state.

“I know you probably still won’t believe me, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. I returned what I bought with the money and the money. Because it didn’t feel good, it felt horrible. I shouldn’t have gone through with the bet. I regret not calling it off. I really just wanted to be with you y/n. I’m sorry for everything,” he expressed.

“Thank you. I’ve forgiven you a while ago Hyeongjun. I wouldn’t have been able to move on and become happy if I didn’t. I fondly remember our time together. That’s why I still come here.” Move on. You had moved on from him. It was too late.

“I remember our time together fondly as well,” he said, masking his pain. “Uh I have practice in the morning, so I should get going,” he excused.

“Right, you should go.”

“Bye,” he tells you.

“Goodbye Hyeongjun.” For Hyeongjun these are the most painful words you ever told him.

Jooyeon

“Don’t be too sorry you did win the game. I fell in love with you, so congratulations. I hope you had fun playing.” Jooyeon hasn’t been able to play games after you said that. Anytime he tries he thinks about how he hurt you. You were right he did know what he was doing. The bet sounded like a fun game to him. He wanted to play and win and he technically did both of those things. However it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t have fun playing, well maybe at first, but definitely not at the end. He regrets it so much. He was foolish and awful.

Jooyeon kept that plushie that he won that day. The one you harshfully shoved back into his chest. He doesn’t know why he keeps it though, it only tortures him. Reminds him of how horrible he was. Maybe that’s why he keeps it. It’s like a form of self punishment. He hugs it to sleep as he cries wishing that he hasn’t been so dumb. That he could still be with you.

Jooyeon stands in front of the arcade. The last place he was together with you. He comes here sometimes to think about that day. What he possibly could have said. What he shouldn’t have said. Maybe if he just came clean and owned up to it all you could have found a way to forgive him. That two of you could have worked through it and still be together.

“Aren’t you gonna go in?” Jooyeon can’t believe the voice that he is hearing. He must miss you so much that now he is hearing you. When he turns around he finds that he is not imagining hearing you, it’s actually you.

“Y/n,” he says in disbelief.

“Hi,” you greet him.

“And no I’m not going in. I can’t play games anymore,” he reveals.

“What? You love games.” Now you are the one in disbelief.

“Not after I hurt you. Making that bet was one of the dumbest things I ever did. I viewed it as a game that I wanted to win, but I regret it all. It wasn’t fun and horrible towards you. I did enjoy our time together though for whatever that’s worth. I liked gaming with you and going on dates. I do care about you.” I’m in love with you, but those words didn’t leave his mouth.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself Jooyeon. I’m glad that you matured and realized that it was wrong. I’m doing great now and I want you to be too. Let’s both grow from this and remember each other fondly,” you tell him. Remember each other fondly, those words shattered Jooyeon’s heart. He couldn’t fix things. You and him would never be together again.

Jooyeon nodded and then you both parted ways leaving Jooyeon with the pieces of his shattered heart.

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babybluebex · 2 years

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Fic of reader dating Jamie but she gets so much hate after the ST release, like how she’s not good enough for him and too ugly, and she breaks up with Jamie because she can’t handle it. She doesn’t tell him the real reason why she broke up with him and they meet up by accident a couple of months later and it’s like this big thing where it’s so dramatic and you can feel the love between them. And whatever happens next is up to you!! Do they get back together, does she tell him the truth, has he moved on? Angst, fluff, smut, whatever you want!! Thank you :))

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you break up with jamie, thinking it’s for the best, but, after you reunite months later, he helps you see how wrong you were. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jamie campbell bower (rpf) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, break ups, happy ending 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my first jamie fic and i’m so excited to share it eek!! i hope you all enjoy it!

You knew that, once Stranger Things dropped, everything would change. And you were right.

Up until then, you and Jamie had lived in relative anonymity— every so often, you’d get someone who recognized him from Twilight, sometimes the lone fan who asked for an autograph from the singer of Counterfeit, but, after Stranger Things, that became a daily occurrence. You couldn’t leave your house without having someone stop you for a picture, and you loved that Jamie was finally getting the recognition he deserved.

What you didn’t love, though, were the comments. Jamie was a natural at taking things in stride, any ugly comments about his performance or looks being cast aside like water off of a duck’s back— he had been doing this for a lot longer than you had been and had perfected not caring. It didn’t take very long for you to figure out that people didn’t like you, though. For one reason or another, it seemed that the vast majority of Jamie’s fans were not a fan of you; under every post Jamie made that had you in it, even just in the background, someone had something to say.

ew, why is she there? or jamie deserves someone better or i bet she’s using him for his money. The first few hate comments were funny and you had laughed at them, but it started to take a toll on you. Maybe you weren’t good enough for the handsome and talented Jamie Campbell Bower. Maybe he did deserve someone better, funnier, prettier than you.

It broke your heart when you ended things with him, but it was necessary. You rarely fought when you were together— even when you did, you managed to keep cool heads and resolve it within the night— which made the break up all the more painful. When you closed your eyes, you could still see Jamie’s big blue eyes, rimmed with red as he held back tears, pleading with you. “Darling, why?” he had asked, his voice scratchy and distraught. “What’s happened? What’s changed?”

“Nothing’s happened,” you lied to him. “I just think we might be better off seeing other people. I…” You swallowed thickly, and your heart rammed itself painfully into your throat. You needed to make sure that there wasn’t a fight, that Jamie wouldn’t beg and grovel for you to come back; you needed to hurt him. It was the most painful thing you ever said, the words feeling like daggers as they left your soft mouth: “I don’t love you anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jamie said instantly. “Please just talk to me, I can help you—”

“No, you can’t,” you told him, your voice shaking. “I’ve made my decision. I don’t love you anymore, and I’m not going to sit here any longer and lie to you that I do.”

“You’re lying to me now!” Jamie exclaimed. “Wh-What about last night? I thought— You said—”

“I know what I said,” you told him, and you did. Sweaty bodies, limbs entangled, his mouth pressed against your breast, you had told him “I’ll always love you”, and you had meant it with your full heart. “But I didn’t mean it.”

“So, what, are you just using me for sex at this point?” Jamie asked, his eyes narrowing. “Is that it? You don’t love me, but you’ll fuck me? And now I guess you’re bored of that now too? Fuck, you’re heartless, you know that?”

“Better heartless than a liar,” you told him. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, feigning annoyance in a way that made your chest hurt. If you could, you would take back everything and run into his arms, but you needed to hold out. He deserved better than you. “Jamie, listen to me: I’ve made up my mind about this weeks ago, I’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you. And last night got me thinking about it, so—” You shrugged, and you watched his thin face fall completely, becoming an emotionless mask.

“Get out,” Jamie told you. “If you don’t care anymore, I don’t either. Go to your flat or wherever the fuck you find yourself, I don’t care, just get out of my house.”

It took everything in you to delete his number from your phone, but it was for the best. You watched as every trace of you was deleted off of his social media, and you saw the fan response almost instantly. did jamie finally break up with her? Someone tweeted. took him long enough. A post from some low-brow gossip site asked Has Jamie Campbell Bower And Longtime Girlfriend Called It Quits? The comments under it were blistering, seemingly endless sighs of relief and declarations of good, she was fugly anyway.

What you didn’t expect out of everything, though, was the song. You woke up one morning a few weeks later to texts from your friends, asking what you thought about Jamie’s new song, and you had groggily pulled up YouTube and found it. It was called Heartless, and it was an anger-laced song with low, crunchy guitars, where Jamie begged for answers: “Any truth will do/Your crooked lies blast me through/You’re so heartless but I still love you.”

You couldn’t help yourself— you turned to Twitter. Jamie had tweeted out a simple link to the video, and the comments under it were ruthless. jesus did SHE break up with him?? does she think she can do better or something? Nothing satisfied the mob, and you cried as the full gravity settled on your shoulders. Nothing would satisfy them. You had broken up with Jamie, pushed away the love of your life, over something as trivial as anonymous online hate. And you had broken his heart so thoroughly that his one solace, his music, had been corrupted by you. It made you sick.

You never intended to see Jamie again. Los Angeles was a big city, and you didn’t anticipate ever finding yourself in a room with him again. You knew that, if you ever did see him again, it would take everything in you to not run back to him, and you knew that you weren’t strong enough for that.

Which made seeing him again suck so much more.

You had just wanted a drink, and you made the mistake of assuming that he wouldn’t turn up at the bar. It had been your place first, after all, you had shown it to him, and you had assumed that he would avoid places that reminded him of you. But, as you sat in the back corner, away from prying eyes, you saw the shock of blond hair that made your stomach flip.

Jamie looked good. Tall, dressed in all black, his hair done in that perfectly undone way that you knew took either a whole team of people or forty-five minutes alone in the mirror to achieve. You used to giggle at him when he would fuss over his hair so much, but he liked your teasing. His dark roots were showing, and you frowned at it; he wasn’t taking care of himself. He could look as put together as he wanted, but you knew the real him, and he was regular about touching up his signature blond tresses. He was slowly falling apart without you, and it only made you feel worse.

Jamie spotted you just as you were getting up to leave, and you swallowed thickly as you willed him not to come over. That tiny bit of resolve you still had begged him to stay to himself, but his eyes raked over your form before he made his long-legged stride over to you.

“Hey,” He said simply. Hey? After everything, that’s all he had to say?

“Hi there,” you said. “I was on my way out—”

“I know,” Jamie said. “I was just hoping we could… I don’t know. Talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you told him. “I’ve said everything I want to.”

“But that’s not fair, is it?” Jamie asked. He lowered his eyes for a moment as he composed himself, and he calmly said, “You say what you want but don’t give me the chance to respond?”

“I think you’ve responded plenty,” you said, eyes thin with anger. “How many streams does Heartless have now? Great song, by the way, I really liked how you made me seem like a cunt to everyone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie told you on a sigh. “You don’t deserve that, but I just… I think you need to know how badly you hurt me.”

“Believe me,” you muttered. “I know.” A moment passed, and you took a deep breath. “I meant for it to.”

Jamie’s face screwed up with confusion, and he said, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t—” you started, and you edged past him in order to leave. You couldn’t get into it with him at that moment, or else you risked everything falling apart. The less he knew, the better. You heard him call your name from behind you as you left the bar, and you cringed at the downpour that you met outside. It hardly ever rained in LA, and you hadn’t seen any impending rainstorm on the forecast, so you were shit out of luck for a coat or umbrella. You crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself warm as you started the walk back to your flat, but a familiar warm hand shot out and grabbed at you before you could make it very far.

“What did you mean by that?” Jamie sputtered in the rain. “You meant for it to hurt, what does that mean?”

“Jamie,” you sighed. “I don’t wanna get into this—”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Jamie said. “Because I do. What’re you doing, why’re you running away? You lied to me, something happened to make you break up with me, and I just, I can’t figure out what. I’ve tried and tried and tried to understand, to come up with anything, but I’m coming up empty. What happened? Tell me the truth!”

“Nothing happened!” you told him, and the lie burned on its way out like acid. “I just don’t love you anymore!”

“Okay, no!” Jamie exclaimed. “That is bullshit, and you know how I know?”

“How do you know?” you asked. “How could you possibly know more about my emotions than I do?”

“You have never once lied to me,” Jamie said, his grip on your arm tight. “No white lies, nothing of the sort, and suddenly you’re lying over something huge like suddenly falling out of love with me? You’re keeping secrets from me and not— Y-You always talked to me! We were so good, and suddenly it means nothing? I don’t believe it for a second.”

“Can we not do this now?” you asked. You were shivering in the rain and Jamie’s hair was stuck to his face in wet patches, but he shook his head quickly.

“No, we’re doing this now,” Jamie told you. “I’m tired of not knowing. Don’t lie to me; did you meet someone else?”

“What?” you seethed. “What makes you think that there’s someone else?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of that explains why you’re acting like this,” Jamie said. “You met someone else and he’s doing more for you than I could. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend to you, but I thought that I was at least enough—”

“Stop it,” you said. You sniffled and finally let your tears fall, hot as they rolled down your cheeks, and you wiped your nose on your arm. “You were enough, J, you were more than enough! You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had—”

Jamie let out a growl of frustration. “Then why don’t you love me?” he asked. The question, asked with those big baby blues full of tears and the tip of his nose all red, shattered your aching heart, and you jerked your arm out of his hand.

“I do!” you finally admitted. “Is that what you want to hear? I do love you, and I’ve never stopped. I lied to you because… Because I was tired, okay? I was fucking exhausted of getting shit on everyday by everyone, and I thought that leaving you would make it stop, but it didn’t! It only made it worse, and then you had to go write that fucking song…” You trailed off, sniffling and sobbing, and Jamie’s face softened. “Everyone hates me, and I thought that…” You couldn’t even say the words out loud. You thought that leaving him would fix it.

Jamie watched you for a moment, taking in every part of you, and he dragged you into him with a tight hug. His warm chest was a comfort, and you cried as you threw yourself fully into him. His hand cradled the back of your head as he held you, and you nestled your cheek into his chest, just over his thumping heart.

“When you told me you didn’t love me,” Jamie started, his voice low and rough. “It felt like you had driven a stake through my heart. You hurt me, and I never wanted to see you again. But… Darling… All of this because people don’t like you?”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “You can call me stupid or heartless or whatever you want to; I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” Jamie said gently. His palm moved to your cheek, and he cradled your face as he titled your head up to look at him, into his achingly beautiful blue eyes. “You deserve none of this. I’m so sorry that I didn’t see this before.”

“It’s not something you should’ve been worried about,” you mumbled. “You have your own life—”

“Obviously it was something to be worried about, if this is how it ended,” Jamie said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t say that,” you told him. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I-I’m totally at fault here. I know how you feel about me, but, please, if any part of you still loves me—”

Jamie silenced you with a kiss. His lips pressed to yours harshly, kissing you deeply, imbuing every ounce of love that he had in his body into it. You held him tightly, kissing him back, your lips moving together perfectly. It was as if you had never parted; your lips still remembered his.

When you broke away, you nestled your head underneath his chin, and you whispered, “Please take me home.”

“Of course,” Jamie whispered. “I’d do anything for you.”

A fat raindrop fell onto his forehead, and you giggled lightly, still sniffling away your tears. “With the rain, it’s like our own dumb little romance movie, huh?” you asked, and Jamie tilted his head a bit.

“Is it raining?” Jamie asked, and you melted under his fond gaze. He was smiling, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Fuck, you’re so cheesy,” you breathed, and you dragged him back down into another kiss. “I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you too,” Jamie whispered. “Please don’t ever make me doubt that again.”

“Never,” you told him. “Never, ever again… And, fuck, I actually love the song. I think it’s your best yet.”

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower rpf #my writing

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ryuttaeng · 2 years

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What about an angst where yeji is the playgirl in school and she dated fem!reader because of a bet between her and her friends which reader finds out later and feels heartbroken? (My English is rubbish I'm so sorry ToT)

pairing: yeji x fem!reader

summary: yeji dated you for a bet, but what about her realising her feelings after your break up?

contents/warnings: angst, breaking up, fake relationship, swearing/cursing, please do not read if sensitive/uncomfortable with such themes!

genres: angst

word count: 2,096

part two

a/n: the way y’all love angst and especially with yeji 💔 also it turned out to be a little long fic, so here you go, there will be more parts! ahh it felt like a while since i posted something

yeji smirked when she heard her friends coo when she agreed to the bet. even her male friends tried to stop her from agreeing to the bet, but she wouldn’t listen. the circumstances of getting some silly girl in her trap weren’t so bad, right?

being a playgirl in school had its benefits and perks. she had lots of people wrapped around her fingers, letting her to take over control and make them do anything she wants. nothing too serious, one night stand and she leaves them before they could leave first.

the blissful feeling of knowing you have everything in your hands, power over lots of people, popularity and impact on everyone surrounding her.

yeji should choose her victim wisely. someone not so bold but not too shy, and unfortunately for her victim and lucky for her, she finally chose her victim. the crowd of her friends surrounded yeji when she pointed on the girl she wanted to win a bet on. “i want her.” yeji announced pointing her finger on the girl that stood in her own crowd of friends.

you shrugged off the feeling of like 10 pairs of eyes looking at you, but you couldn’t get rid off of the feeling that someone is behind your back. your friends’ laughter died down as they all looked behind your back, at the person who approached you all.

you turned slowly as you saw that playgirl, rumours about her sex life couldn’t just slip away from everyone in this place. “hwang yeji, i want to steal y/n from yall to have a brief conversation.” she said crossing her arms confidently.

you looked at yeji from head to toe as your heartbeat rate increased. you dryly gulped as you silently nodded, giving her your approval and getting a smile from her in reply. you wouldn’t admit it, but despite all those things people said about her, she, without any influence on you, already had you wrapped around her slender fingers.

yeji lead you by holding your arm, as you slowly walked away from your friends. even though you liked her, you wouldn’t give her hints that she may have some impact on you since beginning. “what is it?” yeji’s eyes slightly widened at your sudden cold tone. “easy, princess. i’m not here to argue with you.” she said, crossing her arms again. smirk on her face could’ve told you something but all that your brain could think of was her face.

you dryly gulped, as you trailed your eyes away from her. “then tell me.” you breathed out, making an image that you’re not really interested on what she’s going to say. yeji chuckled, probably smiling wider, “i’m here to say that i like you and want to take you out.” she let that slip out of her mouth easily, countless times she said that before.

“and why is that?”

yeji straightened up, her cat-like eyes now pierced you. “what do you mean by ‘why is that’? i-i like you, y/n!” yeji raised her voice a little, not believing you’re not already ‘dating’ her. you let out a sigh, “yeji, you don’t think i haven’t heard what your victims talking about you? i’m smart enough to not to say ‘yes’ to any of your offers.” you said, as you looked in her eyes.

yeji felt her blood boil. why would you not believe her? did she say something wrong? yeji snorted, sarcastically laughing. she would just left, not owing you anything, but the urge to prove you and those words about her, which were true actually, raised, wanting to show you that you’re wrong about her. “please, you will believe everyone who says that? you believe their every word?” yeji sounded hurt, which made your heart ache, even if you couldn’t show her your real feelings.

you felt that way about her a year ago now. you was silently sitting and minding your own business as you saw someone approaching you. “you bitch, you ruined our relationship!” girl said, rushing towards you and her intentions definitely wasn’t good. “you’re that one fucking whore that slept with her! you just can’t resist the desire to fuck with her, can’t you?” she yelled, only drawing attention to herself more.

you weren’t sure if she was talking with you yet, but as she intended to grab your hair made it clear. you already prepared to the worst, but suddenly all the noise died down. someone who stood up in front of you, covering you with herself saved you from a fight with that girl. “shut it, eun. she’s nothing to do in our relationship, however, i’m already broke up with you. and she’s not even talked with me, so there’s no one to blame.” she said, as she stood still.

you could still see girl’s face, her eyes watering from how her ex brought up their relationship again. “but- yeji! you can’t- i don’t want us to break up!” she said, making your eyes widen. is the girl that stood in front of you was hwang yeji?

she turned to check if you were alright, and almost immediately turning back again. “we’ve already broke up, eun.” you could sense rage radiating from that girl as she looked at you. “but you were looking, eyeing… her!” she blurted out, pointing at you.

you saw yeji taking a step back, almost trying to safe you from her. “and why would you care about that? we’ve broken up, you’re not my girlfriend anymore.” yeji somehow succeed to make it look like something interfered their relationship that led them to part ways, everyone believed her that she purely loved her partners, but there were still rumours about her playgirl side.

you blinked twice, as yeji held your hand, waiting for your response. “yeji, i- i’m not sure-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence as you yeji’s felt soft lips on yours. almost immediately reciprocating, yeji smiled through the kiss. if she wanted to make you hers, she would resort to extreme measures.

yeji proudly walked down the school hallway as everyone’s attention was on her and her girlfriend, at least that was what everyone thought. yeji squeezed your hand, making you to look at her, receiving a wink from her.

she won the bet, yeji always wins and her friends wasn’t so surprised by her success, the bet was just for fun and make them laugh by the end of your ‘relationship’.

the time yeji spent with you, even if for show, she still could say that it was she liked to spend time with you. don’t get her wrong, she wouldn’t fall for someone like not like her, well, at least your face is not the type yeji would instantly fall for, but she couldn’t deny the fact that you were beautiful. let’s say her type was someone else.

yeji pulled you closer, connecting her lips with yours as you had different classes today. “see you around.” she whispered as she parted away, leaving with the wink. your gaze followed her, as her friends already surrounded her.

“and for how long you will have her around you?” yeji heard, as she mused about it. “i planned to break up with her today, actually. don’t be dramatic, sangwook, wasn’t it obvious i just used her?” her friend sarcastically gasped, as he embraced yeji. “i know hwang, i know. but it would be a pity to break up with y/n, i mean look at her visuals!” he was right, your looks are indeed good. his gaze trailed down at you, as he stopped his gaze on your cleavage and it didn’t left unseen for yeji.

“y/n, please be prudent with her, i don’t think she have good intentions. i know she’s your… girlfriend but-“ you put your hand on chaeryeong’s shoulder, calming her down. “i know, chae. and thank you for your concern, i really appreciate that.” you warmly smiled, which made her calm down a bit.

sangwook hissed as he felt yeji strike him. “for what? what did i do?” yeji snorted, rolling her eyes. “stop so shamelessly checking her out… she’s a loser anyway.” she wasn’t sure if adding the last part was necessary, but she did, at least not to look jealous. “gosh, okay, but why did you hit me so hard?” he sighed, rubbing his forearm.

you walked down the hallway as you heard some noise coming from the darkest corner. there wasn’t anyone else in the hallway so you just shrugged it off, but walking further, you could hear noise getting louder. turning your head you saw someone passionately kissing, and you would just walk away if the person they stood with their back facing you wouldn’t turn around.

“yeji?” she heard her name coming out of your mouth right when she just turned around. “what the fuck?” she smirked. “well, you didn’t think that i would date someone like you, didn’t you?” she said, as her hands never left girl’s breasts.

your gaze went down, as you tried not to keep your attention on that. “are you fucking- you couldn’t just come up with some better break up instead of this?” you said, making yeji smirk again. “break up? you really thought we’re dating? i just had a bet on you, it doesn’t really matter.” yeji said, as you silently nodded.

yeji waited for you to walk away to part away from that girl she just randomly kissed but she felt her grabbing her on her collar. “hey, where are you going? we haven’t finished yet.” she said, but yeji only pushed her away. “it was for experiment only. i’m not interested in one night stand with you.” yeji replied, walking away from her.

holding in your sobs, you tried to call chaeryeong as you barely could see your phone due your tears warning to fall down on your phone. after few seconds chaeryeong picked up the call, “y/n? what happened-“ “she broke up with me chae, she did a bet on me.” you blurted out, as you let tears fall down.

chaeryeong almost immediately rushed back to the school, wanting to find you. you sat on some bench, as you covered your face with hands. “oh my god,” you could hear chaeryeong’s voice come closer to you, when you felt comforting warm around you. “oh my god, y/n, i’m so sorry.” only when she arrived, you let yourself breakdown, burying your head in her neck and letting yourself sob.

yeji breathed out as she run to find you. she shouldn’t have let you know about the bet like that… even though, knowing that someone dated you just because of the bet wasn’t already a pleasant thing to hear, but also witnessing your beloved kissing someone else when you still were in relationship was painful.

“i should… apologise-“ she cut herself off when she saw you sitting on the bench while tears cascaded your face. yeji couldn’t miss that someone that was holding you closely to herself, placing kisses on your forehead. she also saw that girl telling you something, as you hugged her in response.

yeji felt going wild as she watched the scene. she felt jealousy taking over her, even though she had no rights to feel like that. she was the one that played with your feelings and now she suffered consequences. yeji could see that girl’s reciprocating and hugging you back, rubbing your back as she still was talking to you.

yeji hissed as chaeryeong’s pushed her to the wall, grabbing her collar. she could sense anger and some other emotion radiating from her, as she leaned forward to let yeji hear her clear. “hwang yeji, i warn you, if you ever make y/n’s heart break, i swear i will take y/n away from you, so that when you will finally realise your true feelings for her, you’ll cry tears of blood and it won’t give me any regret to see you in hell.”

letting go of her collar, chaeryeong eyed yeji for a few seconds before she left. now, yeji got that the other emotion she could feel was envy.

and now yeji felt her body straight up as chaeryeong’s gaze sent shivers through her spine. furrowing her brows, yeji immediately left the place, not letting you know that she was there.

“…it’s okay, y/n. she will not disturb you anymore, i promise.” you heard chaeryeong whisper in your ear, when you started to calm down slowly. nodding, your grip tightened on her shirt as you felt much more safer in chaeryeong’s arms.

#itzy #itzy imagines #itzy oneshot #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #itzy yeji #yeji angst #yeji x female!reader #yeji x reader #kpop angst #itzy angst

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 1 year

Note

Hi! I find your stories and the depth in which you develop them, taking as much curves and length as you need not to rush the plot, so good!

Can I request an angst fic about Kit and f!reader trapped in Briarcliff, please? Since your writing tends to be in depth I wonder what you would come up with for a darker, very angsty story, idk maybe about the mistreatment they facing it in there.. I bet this could turn out so well written

Tysm!

this was a very interesting request, if you’ve seen my page i usually only write smut hahaha. this is the first one i’m posting that doesn’t include that. hope you enjoy and hope i did a good job haha :)

~~~

Hell on Earth

kit walker x f!reader

warnings: mention of sa, abuse, unconsentual experimentation, mentions of murder, smoking, just very messed up content so be warned of a lot

summary: life in an asylum is far worse than you ever thought it could be…

word count: 1.5k

~~~

You stare at the cement wall, nothing going on in your head. No thoughts, no feelings, nothing. You can’t remember how long you’ve been trapped inside this place; you can’t even remember why you were trapped there in the first place. All you can remember is your name and age. The shock therapy has gotten rid of most of your memories, you don’t even exactly remember who you are. Only what your friends have told you about yourself.

The sound of your fellow inmates' screams echo through the hallway. You would join them, but you’ve given up on screaming. It’s done nothing but get you hurt. So, all you do is continue your blank stare at the wall, trying your hardest to remember what your life was like before this hell.

After a few minutes you hear the lock of your door being fumbled with, you sit up in your bed. Sister Mary Eunice walks in, swinging her keys on her finger. She gives you a smirk, you’re scared to hear what she has to say.

“Dr. Arden wants to see you; he says it’s time for your treatment.”

You shake your head. “No- no I already had it today.”

“That’s too bad,” she replies, motioning for the guards to come in and get you.

“Please sister, I can’t handle more shock therapy. It’s too much,” you plead as two guards grab your arms and begin to drag you out of bed. “He does things to me he’s not supposed to.”

She only laughs and lets them drag you down the hallway.

~~~

You don’t really think of much in these moments. The bright light practically blinds you, and the sounds of machines make it hard for you to hear anything Dr. Arden says about what he’s doing. All you feel are needles being stuck inside your shoulders and in other places. You want to die.

You feel his hand brushing your leg, tears roll down your cheeks. If he touches you, he won’t be the first in Briarcliff. Though your memory is patchy, you can remember the times other men have touched you in ways you didn’t want to be. You can remember how dirty it made you feel, how dirty it still makes you feel. They always tell you how pretty you are, how it’s not their fault you make them want you.

It’s always the same, you think. Always.

Dr. Arden cuts your leg with a scalpel, you yelp at the sudden pain. You’re grateful most of his experiments don’t involve using you sexually. Usually, he’ll simply inject you with things you don’t even know of, or cut you open in spots and see what will happen if he does things to the wounds. You simply lay there and say nothing, what’s the point. Nothing will change.

~~~

After Dr. Arden gets bored with you, he sends you out to the common room. You don’t talk much to your fellow patients, only the ones you’re close with. You sit down on one of the couches and hold your knees up to your chest. You just want to die. You know death wouldn’t be as bad as this place, it couldn’t be.

A few minutes go by before someone sits next to you. You recognize the person, it’s Lana. She looks at you with a sadness on her face, one you’ve become all too familiar with. You stare back at her, your face expressionless. Maybe it’s just because of the shock therapy, but you can’t remember the last time you smiled.

“Are you okay y/n?” Lana asks after a few seconds.

You shrug. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay in here.”

Lana sighs and lights a cigarette. She takes a long breath of it before speaking again. “I understand the feeling.”

“Do you think we’ll ever get out?” You ask.

“I like to think we will, I mean I got out of here once, course the aftermath wasn’t so good,” she answers.

She takes another long drag of the cigarette before offering it to you. You gladly accept, enjoying the burning sensation it leaves behind in your lungs. It makes you feel as though you have some control over your body. You take a few hits off it before returning it to the other woman. The rest of your time spent together is only spent passing the cigarette in silence. It’s nice.

~~~

You’re separating dough in the kitchen when you feel a presence behind you. You don’t look, you’re too afraid it’s Dr. Arden wanting to take you away and perform more experiments on you. The person places their hands on your shoulders, slowly moving them down your arms. It can’t be Arden or the guards, they aren’t gentle. You then realize who it is and a small smile creeps on to your face.

You lean back against the person you now know must be Kit. His body is warm, you can feel it through his clothes. He holds you for a few seconds, but has to let go when someone else enters the kitchen. He moves next to you and starts to separate dough. You look up at him, you’re glad to see him, it’s been a day or two.

“I’ve missed you,” he says quietly. “Sister Mary kept me locked up in solitary, she says I’ve been sinning and trying to make you sin as well.”

“Have you been sinning?” You ask, your small smile growing.

“Only in my head,” he answers.

You focus back on the dough in your hands and sigh. “I’m forgetting more and more each day; I’ve had to start writing the names of people down because I can’t remember them. I worry soon I won’t even remember my own name.”

“They shouldn’t be giving you shock therapy, it’s inhumane,” Kit replies.

“Maybe I did something to deserve it, I can’t remember why I was even put in here.”

“You said it was because you killed a man in self-defense but they ruled it as a murder due to a mental disease.”

You shut your eyes, trying your best to remember. You see certain parts. A man coming at you with a knife, he wanted something. You see yourself struggling against him, but you see the knife leave his hand. After that, it’s completely a blur.

“Oh...” you mumble.

Kit places his hand on yours, grabbing your attention. You look up at him once again and see he’s already looking down at you. He rubs his thumb across your knuckles, it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. He’s the only man in Briarcliff who hasn’t forced himself on you, almost everything he does only occurs after he asks you if it’s okay. He’s the only man you feel safe with.

“We need to get you outta here, look what they’ve done to you,” he whispers. His eyes are sincere, they always are. You love that about him.

“I can handle the shock; it helps me forget all the other things they do,” you reply with a small smile.

He clenches his jaw. “One day they’re all gonna pay for what they’ve done to you, to Lana, to everyone. At least I can fight back, but you, God y/n you can’t stand a chance.”

“I hope that happens, but honestly Kit I’ve lost most of my hope, it went with my memory,” you say.

You look down, your eyes are starting to burn. You hate even thinking about those nights with the guards. Kit knows this, that’s why he moves a hand up to your chin and makes you loop back up at him. He moves his thumb across your cheek, wiping the first tear that falls. You can’t stop yourself from dropping the dough and wrapping your arms around Kit, sobs leaving your lips at his gentleness.

He immediately hugs you back, one of his hands softly caressing the back of your head. His action only makes you sob harder. You don’t care if the guards come in and catch the two of you, all you care about is this moment with Kit.

“I’m so sorry this happened y/n, I should’ve been there for you,” he whispers.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault Kit, there was nothing you could’ve done.”

“It’s not fair,” he replies, holding you closer. “You don’t deserve anything other than gentle sweet care. I promise y/n I’m gonna get you outta here if it’s the last thing I do.”

You sniffle, you wish this moment could last forever. But it can’t and it doesn’t. A guard comes in and pulls the two of you apart, screaming about no contact between patients. He forces Kit out of the kitchen, but Kit doesn’t leave without giving you a small kiss on your forehead and promising to talk soon.

Kit’s the only thing that makes you feel the most normal you can feel. You love him, and you know he’s going to keep his promise.

Whatever it takes.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #fanfiction #kai anderson #james march x reader #jimmy darling #kit walker #tate langdon x y/n #kit walker x you #kit walker fic #kit walker smut #kit walker x reader

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yjwhatif · 2 years

Text

Okay, so this is probably gonna be 💩 and definitely out of character but it’s an idea that popped into my head that I wanted to try write… I have no idea how it reads - I’ve never tried doing a fic before - so this may well be my first and the last attempt 🤷‍♀️ but, I thought it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s something to add to the list of things I never expected to do this year…

Also, I’m gonna try to get another post out before, but I know what I’m like and if I don’t, I just wanna wish everyone a happy new year and thank anyone who’s spared any time/energy into supporting this blog - whether that’s reading, liking, sending comments, anything - I love and appreciate it all so much! So thank you and here’s the fic (which is yet to be named, it’s set post Phantoms and I don’t know what you’d class it as… angst? Let’s just say it’s not fluff - in case you wanted a heads up…) LB

Here goes…

Star city. 11:23 pm. It had been raining for hours. That loud heavy kind of rain that could be heard over even the highest of volumes. Literally the only thing hearable was the rain and it showed no sign of stopping soon. There was no ignoring it. No avoiding it. Even for the most focused of minds. Rain one. Grading nill. She may have been formidable in a fight but Artemis knew when she’d been bested in battle…

“Fine, fine - you win - I will go to bed.”

She said to the air.

“Come on Brucley, let’s… go?”

Brucley had gone to bed hours ago. All who lived there were long since asleep there and it was nature's desire for the final resident to seek her slumber too…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Though it seemed someone else had a differing desire…

“Bart?”

There at the door, the boy stood soaking. Drips dropping and hair sopping. Drenched all the way through to his skin. Had he walked there? It was hardly the appropriate time or setting for a leisurely stroll across the country. Though it was a trip he had been making more and more within the recent weeks. But never as late as this…

“Can I stay on your couch for a bit?”

And never overnight. The answer she had was obvious. But his need for such an arrangement was a cause for concern…

“…Come on, I'll get you a towel.”

And coffee… this was definitely going to require coffee.

11:45pm. The scene was set… It was silent… for what must have been the first time that night in fact. Or that was how it seemed at least. In reality, it wasn't truly silent of course. The rain still drowned the streets outside. But even that had hushed its hammering as if waiting to hear how the play would proceed. It wasn’t the only one. At the table sat the pair. One drinking coffee. The other cocoa. One sat watching. The other avoiding. Both waiting for the other to make the first move. Instead, there was silence. Solid and sharp. The only thing to cut through it was the click of Artemis’s fingernails tapping rhythmically upon the tabletop. It was something to listen to but it was hardly a melodic beat. It was the ticking of a clock. The falling of the sands. It was a waiting beat which promised it would not wait forever. And forever it did not.

“So… what happened?”

”Same thing that keeps happening…”

His mood was grim. Grumbling the words instead of speaking them. The tides within him swelled at their topmost heights. The dam was full. The floodgates had remained holding (for now) but the trickles were seeping through. It wouldn’t take much for the seal to crack and release the spill.

“He won’t let me do anything anymore… It’s so moded!”

“I bet…”

She played along…

“And now I’m grounded - again - for nothing!”

”Nothing, huh? Wow, I don't even think my parents were that cruel.”

It was a statement filled with implications that weren’t supposed to be liked… and liked, Bart did not. He may have been frustrated with his elder but never enough to endorse such a comparison… even if he was totally aware of the game she was playing with him…

“Okay, soo it might not have totally been nothing exactly…”

All she did was strike him a look. The look. Piercing and inescapable… even for one as fast as him…

“There's a slight chance I may have missed curfew…”

And just like that, the cascades came surging through.

“But it wasn’t my fault!”

“Of course not.”

It never was…

“It wasn't! I went to the movies with Ed and the others over in Hollywood and... you know what it's like with timezones - who has time to keep track of those?!”

“Someone with a central time curfew Bart, that's who.”

“Ugh, but it’s 9 o’clock! 9 o’clock! Who has a 9 o’clock curfew - other than like, 5-year-olds… seriously, Lian has a 9 o’clock curfew!”

“No, she doesn't.”

“Whatever... the point is, it's stupid and it totally ruined everything!”

”Oh come on Bart, I'm sure it wasn't that good a movie. You can always go see it again later.”

“What? No - I'm not talking about the movie - I don't even care about the movie! I'm talking about Ed!”

“Ed?”

“Yea, and the fact that he was there, actually sat next to me and not avoiding me like he has been for weeks…

There was more hidden beneath the depths than she’d initially realised…

“I swear, he was this close to holding my hand in there… just like before…”

“…I didn't realise you two were having problems—?”

“We're not!”

He spat back. She’d clearly hit a nerve.

“Everything's fine! There's nothing to worry about - I've got it all under control… or at least I did, until I look over and see Jay standing there in the actual theatre, staring right at me with that look that he always seems to wear these days... next thing I know, he’s practically dragging me out of there in front of everyone… have you any idea how embarrassing that was… and it was totally uncalled for!”

“I’m sure he wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“Sure he was - he hates me!”

“He doesn't hate you Bart.”

“No… but he certainly won't trust me anymore…”

From under his breath, those words had come. Artemis had heard every one and with them, the silence returned to the scene. This time abrupt and without warning. She knew what she wanted to say to him. It was what she’d wanted to say for a while now. But she also knew it wasn't the best time for it to be said. The boy who sat ahead of her could seem such a source of light in even the darkest of moments. Always a clever comment to contribute. A smile to give. He really did remind her of his cousin sometimes… just a bit… in his own kind of way. And like his cousin, she also knew just how stubborn he was capable of being… when he wanted to be.

“What?“

“Well… can you really blame him for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Bart, you snuck off into space without telling anyone and then went missing for over two weeks.”

“I came back!”

He threw the words at her like they should be sufficient in settling the matter… his first mistake.

“Yeah, wrapped in bandages.”

“… I was—“

“Fine? Sure.”

“Well, I was! So there was no need to worry—”

“That's not for you to decide Bart…”

At the point of no return, there was no more holding back. She had things to say to him and it was about time he heard them said.

“You can’t just disappear and expect no one to notice… not anymore.”

He didn’t want to hear this. That she also knew.

“Because they did, Bart, they noticed, and they weren’t fine about it… Jay wasn’t fine, Ed wasn’t fine, Jaime, your friends, your team, your family… None of us were fine.”

Everything about him screamed silently for swift release. His eyes away watching anything that wasn't her. But his ears stayed stuck. Sealed to the sounds she spouted. They refused to move. To disconnect. To let him escape… his second mistake.

“You have a lot of people here who care about you, kid… People who worry when they don’t know where you are.”

“I can take care of myself!”

It was unclear who he was trying to convince more… Artemis or himself.

“That doesn’t matter… You know the life we live in, just like the rest of us, and like the rest of us, you know the evil that exists within it, you know the sacrifices that have been made, the tragedies we’ll never be able to forget… and for all we knew, you were about to become another one of those tragedies, another hologram…”

In a haze of forgotten memory, those words repeated. They cast him back and in front of his elder, he was returned. Head to head and heart to heart. It was only them. Them and those words. Those words and his. A promise… a lie.

“…I don’t want any more holograms…”

“…Jay… I’m not going anywhere…”

He lied. The man had trusted him and he lied… that was his biggest mistake.

“Take it from a girl who got her very own hologram once upon a time… there's a cost to deceit - no matter how major the lie or vital the cause… for those left out of the loop, loss isn’t easily forgotten and trust isn’t easily fixed…”

At that, his eye returned to hers. For the first time that night, they converged completely. They were pools filling. Glazing. But hadn’t yet fallen. Never before had she seen the rain drop upon his cheeks. Even after all the storms he'd weathered. Now was no different. He was stubborn that way.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You do the work - for as long as it takes until that trust is regained… and then, you don’t screw up by doing it again!”

It was almost laughable how fast his face dropped at that. The softness in his eye solidified into a scowl of sheer sulkishness.

“Don’t give me that look! I said you could have my couch, not my sympathy…”

But the mood didn't lift. All in his face only dropped further. He was somewhere else. Stuck on something else. Something he couldn't see.

“He’ll come around, you’ve just gotta meet him halfway.”

“I hope so…”

“He loves you Bart… and luckily, love isn't something that's easily lost… no matter how parted you feel.”

With that, her own mind wandered slightly. It was her sign to get moving. So she allowed the words to sink in as she cleared the scene of their long dried-out mugs. Leaving him to ponder whatever thoughts he had brewing within.

“…I should probably call him, tell him where I am…”

“I already did…”

Her hand planted a reassuring grip on his tensed shoulder before she continued.

“He knows you’re here…”

With that Bart was jolted back into the present. Such a reveal was unexpected. Jay had known and never forced him back home. He never called or kicked up a fuss. He was actually allowing Bart the space he wanted… Or was the man just so tired of the trouble that he was glad for the space he was getting… The quiet returned as the boy's mind flooded once again. Drowning him deep below his doubts. Beneath the regrets. The questions. The what ifs. The possibilities and probabilities. Everything except the solid solution to get him back in control again. The something which would keep him afloat before the rising tides finally pull him under.

“I’m gonna head up…”

Artemis‘s words cut their way through the fog of his contemplation.

“You know where everything is, right?”

His head nodded but his mind remained elsewhere. It was there in his eyes. They were distant. Drained. He was trying to fight something. Something he wouldn’t let her see. Something he couldn't escape. And it was pulling him under. Below the depths and into the darkness no one was allowed to witness.

“Bart… do try and get some sleep, okay? Things will still be there for you to work out tomorrow.”

There was acknowledgement in his eyes but still, no words accompanied them. It was late. Very late. It was so late even the rain had gotten tired as there remained but a drizzle upon the window panes. There was little more Artemis could do for the night. It was up to Bart to find his next step forward. Though for now, the only thing they both truly needed was sleep. Time to rest their heads and escape the thinking for a bit. But whether sleep would come was another matter entirely. With a little luck, nature would take its charge and finally pull them both into the desired solace of slumber. But for that quits must be called. She must finally make her retreat to the sheets which have long awaited her settle. And with a little hope, the lad lost in his thoughts might follow suit. Finding his relief in the couch cushions instead of a fix-all solution he yet couldn't see… but for her, that remained to be seen…

Despite the end's arrival the scene still felt unfinished. Something was missing. Yet there was nothing more to be said. Nothing more from her lips at least…

“…Hey Artemis?”

The words halted her departure.

“Thanks… y’know… for letting me use your couch.”

With that, his face cracked its first smile of the night. It wasn't one of real brightness or longevity. It was shallow and slight. But it gleamed a hint of the him she's gotten so used to seeing. Something of noticeable absence throughout the night. It was a smile which suggested she hadn't totally lost him to those dark depths of his mind. And it was a welcomed sight to end their night.

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

With her own smile, her goodnights were said. And away she went. Finally making good on the word she’d made a whirlwind ago.

“Night Brucley.”

…

#happy new year #young justice #yj #young justice phantoms #bart allen #artemis crock #jay garrick #eduardo dorado jr #my fic #yj fanfic #long post

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wh0reifyoudontexist · 3 years

Note

hi, i think the worst thing a man can do is cheat on a pregnant woman so could i request a fic with draco with that plot?

but that draco really loves his wife and someone from his environment influences him to cheat on her and from there whatever you want to happen:(

WAAAAAH ANGST MY FAVORITE

first words

draco malfoy x reader

post hogwarts

angst

request: yes | no

summary: draco cheats on his pregnant wife (i am not good at summaries excuse me)

warnings: curse words, cheating, i think that's it? tell me if i missed a few 😽

masterlist | navigation

"shit"

first word ever said between the two of them, needless to say that's the start of a romance novel; cliche isn't it?

spilled coffee all over a cream colored blouse, tears threatening to fall out of lids, ears ringing and full of apologies falling out of the mouth of a blonde that stood in front of her, one hand grasping a handkerchief, the other on her waist guiding the woman onto the side of diagon alley.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," he said sincerely carefully damping the cloth in hand on her brown stained blouse, "let me make it up to you?" he questioned finally looking up at her, who's brows have been furrowed the whole time.

instead of answering, she lifted one of her arms, eyes straight on the watch enclosed on her wrist, before rubbing her face with both of her hands sighing loudly, "sure." she finally said, dismissing the thought to tell him she was expected to be in an interview 10 minutes ago.

and instead let him lead her to a cafe with his hand on her back.

that was a decade ago. now 29 married and pregnant with the same man who cost her a job; not that she needs one now.

setting down the cup of tea, circling her thumb on her swollen belly, feeling a kick "hi there darling, how you holding up in there?" she smiled, "your daddy's gonna be here soon, bet you're excited aren't you?" she whispered as she bought her hand up to kiss it before placing it on top of her stomach once more, rubbing it gently, "love you, little one"

what she didn't know? oh, it was that her husband wasn't going to 'be here soon'

she laid in bed moving to lay on her left, hand smoothing out her husband's side, brushing away non-existent dirt. 'he must have a lot of work left' was her mindset at that moment,

breathing out a sigh, she kissed her hand one last time for the night, placing it right above her stomach heading to sleep.

"don't you miss it?"

"shove off, dilton. i need to get home," draco said pushing away his co-worker out of his way, ready to go home and be greeted by his lovely wife, ready to smother her with kisses, ready to talk to his unborn son.

"oh come on malfoy! just this once, please?"

is he serious?

convincing a married man to cheat on his wife? his pregnant wife?

ignoring him, he continued his way to the floo network of the ministry, only to be stopped by aaron dilton's voice,

"you really have changed, what happened to the malfoy back at hogwarts? the one who wouldn't give a single fuck about the girls he slept with? you're boring, that must be how it is for married men. don't you ever get bored of your wife?"

if draco wasn't listening before he definitely was now, ears turning red at the mention of his wife spoken of so in such a vile manner,

but no. if only that wasn't the case, he wouldn't admit it but something did snap inside of him at dilton's words causing him to turn around, face him and do something that will leave him feeling nothing but regret the following day,

but that's a problem meant to be solved tomorrow.

"where were you?"

he froze, steps halting when he lifted his face to look at his wife, a furrow adorning her brow, wrapped around a midnight blue robe, furs at the end. "got caught up with work," he lied "sorry love"

"that's alright. come on up, let's sleep" something about her tone made him think she didn't believe him,

and why would she? his hair's all ruffled, shirt untucked and rumpled, but that's what happens when you're too busy stressing right? you forget about how you look, and sigh frustratedly, hands rubbing your face roughly that you look like you've just awoken from a deep slumber.

oh how he wished that was what happened, heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting her wife, mentally or physically, but what hurt more? knowing that it was him that'll hurt her,

but it doesn't matter she won't find out... right?

the next time it happens, he wasn't pushed into doing it, he wanted to prove something. he wanted them to know that he was still the same as they were in hogwarts, something about him turning soft made him frustrated, frustrated about what his fellow peers will say,

and the next time it happens, he won't be so lucky as the last, he shouldn't have even gotten away with it

skipping work with his 'friends' and going home so early to not be suspected of anything,

by the time he enters the door to their manor, he froze mid-step upon seeing his wife approaching him a cup in hand, a smile on her blemish free face.

"hi, i missed you," she breathed onto his neck, her head tucked between the area where his neck and shoulder met,

unbeknownst to him, she was trying her hardest not to let a tear slip from her eyes, smelling cheap perfume stuck on his skin, small and unnoticeable marks on his porcelain skin, you have to really squeeze your eyes to see them, for her case she doesn't have to, it's so close to her face that she had to turn her head to the other side before finally letting him go,

"i didn't know you were gonna be home so early, i haven't prepared any food yet," she spoke trying her best to keep her voice steady as possible though failing as there was a little crack at the end, which the tall man didn't even notice.

doesn't he love her anymore? how did he not notice that little squeak of her voice? isn't he supposed to know every little thing about his significant half?

"it's okay love," he kissed her head, sniffing a bit of her watermelon shampoo, heart breaking a little more,

"i'll do it. you deserve it." he smiled pecking her lips one last time before disappearing inside the kitchen, the pregnant woman left to stand outside in the cold room.

"love, dinner's ready" he called softly beside the sleeping figure, she answered with a nod, gathering to pull herself up from the couch only to be stopped by a hand coming in front of her eyesight,

she took hold of it reluctantly lifting her and her son up and away from the comfy abode she wished would swallow her up.

'i'm ready' those words were repeating in her mind as she sat silently on her side of their bed waiting patiently and nervously for her hus— draco to finish in the bathroom.

once she heard the sound of a door opening, clicking just as fast as it opened, she spoke

"how could you?" no need to act stupid, be straight and blunt.

"darling? how could i what?" taking a shower was no use, he was already starting to sweat,

"no need to act stupid, draco." was all she said before standing up from her position and packing up her belongings,

maybe it's the hormones, but she does not want to see his face again.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to"

flashbacks happened. she was taken back to the time where they first met, the first thing he ever said to her.

anger took over her appearance but just sighed loudly not wanting to pick a fight afraid it'll cause something to their baby.

"please, darling let's talk about this. don't leave. i love you, so so much," he began as tears streamed down his face as he knelt in front of her hugging her legs to keep her from going, bags in hand.

"draco." she sighed, tired. but he wouldn't move, he can't afford to lose her, the love of his life,

"draco, please!" she shoved him away from her legs before it's too late and she forgives him.

"just- just please.. i need time." she stated before going out their bedroom,

"shit!" she exclaimed when her hand accidentally hit a vase, causing it to shatter and make a loud banging noise all throughout the empty, and lonely manor.

ironic isn't it? how her first words are also the last words she'll say to him, leaving him a broken mess,

part 2

#draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy masterlist #draco fic #draco x reader smut #drafo malfoy #draco fucking malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x uou #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character?

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

…it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

No. It doesn’t matter.

Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

But he didn’t do this on purpose.

Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

It…hurt.

It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

But he wants to try.

When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

Patton looks so disappointed in him.

He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

“Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

He leaves them be.

The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

Wait, no.

If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

But his tongue is lifeless.

So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

But then Janus appears.

And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

Janus stops and looks right at him.

Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

Janus’s eyes narrow.

Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

Roman wants to scream.

He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

A silent scream is the best he can do.

It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

He never gets further than a single word.

He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

(Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

“It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

“So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

“Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

“Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

“Art, Janny.”

Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

He didn’t do it on purpose.

Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

“Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

“Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

“Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

“Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

“That is not what I’m doing—“

And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

Not this time.

He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

Wait.

Has…has Roman said anything today?

Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

“Roman?”

Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

“Do you…have any ideas?”

Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

“Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

“You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

“Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

“No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

“That…would explain it.”

“Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

Roman just shakes his head again.

“Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

Virgil snorts.

“I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

“Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

And…moving.

His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

“Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

“What?”

“Thomas, what’re you—“

“That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

“Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

“What do you mean you can’t speak?”

“Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

“Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

Roman nods.

“Has it been happening for longer?”

Another nod.

“How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

“Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

“Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

“With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

“Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

“He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

“What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

Roman nods.

“Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

A nod.

“He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

“Yeah, we got that.”

“No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

“So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

“Yeah.”

And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

“You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

“Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

“And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

“What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

“That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

“Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

“I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

“Sir Francis Bacon?”

“What?”

“You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

“Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

“You nonverbal?”

Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

“I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

“Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

“What?”

“We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

“Your point?”

“The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

“Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #sympathetic remus #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #janus sanders #logan sanders

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

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Ao3 Ship Thoughts

To sate my desire to read Three Houses fan fiction and jump in on the shipping comments that have upticked recently, I decided to see what ships were the most popular on Ao3.

Some of it's exactly what I expected, and one in particular is just . . . what, why?

Ao3 is probably the closest you'll get to truly determining which ships are the most popular, or at least have the highest number of passionate fans. So I was curious to see who the top ships were. Here's the ones listed, in order:

Sylvain/Felix

Dimitri/Byleth

Edelgard/Byleth

Ferdinand/Hubert

Claude/Byleth

Dimitri/Felix

Dimitri/Claude

Felix/Annette

Caspar/Linhardt

Hilda/Marrianne

If I exclude the Byleth ships, Dimitri/Dedue, Byleth/Seteth, and Ingrid/Sylvain take up the three missing spots.

Byleth's Ships

I'm shocked. Really, truly shocked that Byleth/Lord is popular. Never wouldn't guessed. I am, of course, being sarcastic. If someone asked me to list who I think would show up in the top 10 most popular ships, the first three I'd list would be Byleth/Lord.

What I find more interesting is that Byleth/Seteth is the fourth option for Byleth. AO3 writers, I officially bow to your taste. It pleases me quite a bit that, if you're not going with one of the main lords, you all want Seteth. This I can agree with.

As for the Byleth/Lord ships, I feel kind of mixed on them. Every lord interacts with characters who have more depth than Byleth, but I still get the appeal. I'm going to deep dive into all of the lords relationships with Byleth later, but here's a quick summary.

Edelgard/Byleth is shoved down your throat so hard it's nearly impossible to ship Edelgard with someone else and even shortchanges her potential to have deep, non-romantic relationships because Edelgard puts Byleth on a pedestal that no one else can reach by her own dialogue.

Byleth's character arc works well alongside Dimitri's. While the relationship is pushed and fanservice-y scenes exist, the game leaves enough breathing room to see Byleth as a mentor/therapist/teacher figure, and Dimitri has no shortage of deep, meaningful relationships with others should you not want to do the whole self-insert thing. It's a good balance.

Claude and Byleth are the opposite of Edelgard and Byleth. They read almost more like friends than lovers. It's a breath of fresh air, honestly. Claude/Byleth seems like the healthiest possible romance for Byleth/lord because the lord in question here doesn't seem as dependent. That said, it lacks lacks romance and shipping fuel. I may complain about fanservice, but the Byleth/Claude dynamic does show why scenes of holding hands in the rain and teasing about badly drawn images might actually come in handy.

Edelgard's Ships

I'm not surprised, at all, that Edelgard has no popular ships outside of Byleth. Dialogue consistently shortchanges Edelgard's relationships with others by having her verbally, repeatedly put Byleth into a special "other" that no one else can reach for her.

Though, I guess I'm a bit surprised at the extreme lack of Edelgard/Hubert. I feel these two have a lot of shipping fuel and their supports left things unresolved. I've come across the sentiment in fandom many times that ship where things are tied off nicely with a bow leave less to explore and aren't as interesting, so I am bummed out no one seems interested in fleshing out Hubert/Edelgard more.

The outlook for Edelgard fanfic and me seems pretty limited. I don't like Edelgard/Byleth for various reasons beyond this scope of this post. I was kind of hoping there were some Edelgard/Hubert or Edelgard/Dorothea character study stuff that could help me get past how much Byleth gets in the way of Edelgard's character growth, but it seems fanfic writers only want to write about her and Byleth, which is a bummer.

On that note, I'm also surprised but also glad that Dimitri/Edelgard isn't a big thing. I thought it might be because tragedy of childhood friends turned enemies by events out of their control is popular. These two seem wildly incompatible though, so I'm glad people seem to agree.

Claude's Ships

Ok. Claude/Byleth. Expected. I'm feel positively towards the ship since they seem mostly good for each other even if it's not getting my heart all fluttering.

I'm surprised there's no Claude/Petra or Claude/Hilda. Those two are my personal favorites for him. I would've given Claude/Petra the edge given how they can uniquely relate to each other, but Hilda's scene in CF really gave Petra a run for her money. Even more so that Petra and Claude have obligations to two different nations and Hilda has no such complication.

But whattttt???? Claude/Dimitri? It's in the top 10?? More people ship Dimitri with Claude than Dedue?? I thought lord/lord might be popular, but I honestly thought Dimitri/Edelgard would take it, not Claude/Dimitri. They never really talk. So I'm a bit confused about this one. Though, intrigued by the idea.

Can I take a wild guess this partly stems from Claude having no real other viable M/M ships outside of M!Byleth and fics that plays up the chapter I'm about to play in AM (Dimitri saving Claude) or "what ifs" VW routes where Dimitri doesn't . . . you know.

I am really curious about this dynamic though. Because I like Claude - a lot. He's a character I want to get attached to. From experience, the fastest way for me to like a character is to give them a significant relationship I enjoy with a character I already love and the new character gets absorbed by proxy. So, fans, please, tell me more about this Dimitri/Claude. I am curious.

Dimitri's Ships

I am as unsurprised by Dimitri's being one of the biggest repeat offenders on here as I am by Edelgard being Byleth or bust. If Edelgard is written to fanservice the player by making the self-insert her one and only, Dimitri is fanservicing the player by being a shipping magnet. The writers knew what they were doing and who they were trying to appeal to with these two characters.

Dimitri/Byleth is a given. The game plays up the romance angle, but it's not at the expense of Dimitri's other relationships.

What I'm more interested in, though, is Felix/Dimitri. Between angsty CF stories, post-AM slow-burns, or fleshing out missing scenes from their shared childhood, there's just a lot to work with and a rich context to use their relationship - spun romantically - to explore each character. Felix and Dimitri's relationship is layered, complicated, heart breaking, and potentially healing. The fact they're two incredibly attractive guys doesn't hurt its popularity either, I'm sure. I'm not surprised it ranked that highly.

Claude/Dimitri surprises me. If two lords were going to get on this list together, I would've put bets on Edelgard/Dimitri. Since Claude and Dimitri's relationship is fairly unexplored, I'm really interested to see more about what exactly this is about. Don't get me wrong. I figured people would pair two main characters who are that good looking together, I just didn't think it would rank that high.

I am, slightly sad, that Dimitri/Dedue isn't a bit higher, but happy it seems to have some steam. I get it though. Dedue's not as flashy as some of the others on the shipping list and their relationship is so full of fluff by their A support it lacks the angst Felix/Dimitri and Dimitri/Byleth can draw out nor is as much of a play around with "what ifs" as Claude/Dimitri is.

Non-Lords/Main Characters Ships:

This list, more than anything else, shows AO3's penchant for writing M/M and F/F works for better or worse. Whether this phenomena stems from lack of representation, fetishizing by the fanbase, deeply ingrained gender roles making fictional M/F ships either less appealing to many fanfic writers, or M/F romances often getting assumed leading to less substantial writing compared to friendships - I don't know. Probably all of it.

There are a few surprises here for me. Felix/Sylvain is that popular? I figured they'd make the top 10, but #1 is surprising. Though, looking through the first page of the tag, it's true Felix/Sylvain have fics just for them, but it also seems like a common pairing in Dimitri/Byleth and Dimitri/Claude fics. It's the same story with Caspar/Linhardt, who I honestly didn't expect to see. They had a fair number of their own fics, but it seems many CF fics put them together rather than focus solely on them. Felix/Annette also balances being the main focus and an adjunct pairing. Marianne/Hilda seemed to have less fics where they took center stage and more they were one of many ships listed.

Ferdinand/Hubert having a lot of fics isn't surprising. I don't really care too much for it personally, but I can see the appeal of it.

I'm surprised Catherin/Shamir is nowhere in sight. Likewise, Rhea is absolutely nowhere. Kind of sad by the lack of adult characters in general. Especially Rhea. I think it's a pretty big sign of how the writing's treated her that such an important character is totally absent in this list.

Not surprised at all to see Felix also get so many ships. He, like Dimitri, seems designed on purpose to ship with many characters. I do really wish Dorothea and Seteth would get more attention though.

What do you guys think? Anything that surprised you? How do you feel about any of these ships and there popularity or lack thereof? Are there characters/pairings you wish got more attention? Any popular ships you despise (spill that tea)?

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe16 #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von reigen #tagged them because I want to get people who ship Claude and Dimitri to see this and talk to me about that

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alluringjae · 3 years

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until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

344 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 4 years

Photo

Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the third month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics! Happy reading!

1) Leave It All Here In This Bed | Explicit | 1071 words

One of Louis’s many sleepless nights.

2) Games Are Only Fun If You Win | Explicit | 1554 words

Louis and Harry have a bet. If Louis wins that means he's off laundry duty. If he loses well.

Let's just say Harry won't be complaining.

3) If It Makes You Feel Alive | Explicit | 1691 words

Louis is horny one night on the tour bus so he and Harry fuck while trying not to get caught by the others.

4) Beg Me Silently | Explicit | 2140 words

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

5) Birthday Wishes | Explicit | 2895 words

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

The one where Harry takes Louis to dinner for his birthday, and gifts him with a vibrating butt plug he wears to the restaurant. Fluffy birthday sex follows.

6) New Year, New Beginnings | Explicit | 3577 words

Note: This is part 4 of this series.

The one where Louis and Harry unexpectedly end up at the same New Year's party. Louis makes Harry jealous, and Harry shows him just how bad of an idea that is.

7) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

8) Pits Of Love | Explicit | 3934 words

Harry smells Louis' sweat for the first time after they've moved in together. His alpha goes a bit wild.

9) First Blow Hits You Cold | Explicit | 3986 words

Louis wears a shirt with a big ass H on it for his livestream, and Harry really, really likes it.

10) Close Your Eyes And Surrender To Me | Explicit | 4209 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry hummed and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead. “I am very stressed, but I also know you’re stressed and tired too.” He glanced to Louis’ face seeing the confirming nod. “But, if you’re sure you’re up for it.” Harry smirked, waiting for Louis to say it was okay before he laid the boy down on the bed and hovered over him. “I really love this color on you. You look so pretty. Always do.” He spoke quietly, rubbing his hands over Louis’ soft thighs and moving them to his tummy. He then moved his hands up to Louis’ hair. It had been a while since Louis’ last haircut and it was now long enough that he could tie it up in little ponytails and even little braids. Louis currently had two hair clips in his hair. One was gold with little stars on it and the other gold with a moon. “I love your hair princess. Do you feel pretty?” He asked.

11) P Is For | Explicit | 4349 words

Note: The pairing for this fic is Louis/Pedro Pascal.

Louis and Pedro, winter in New York, a coffee machine, and bilingualism.

12) Pull Out Your Heart | Explicit | 5028 words

He wants to apologise, the five letters sit on the tip of his tongue but he does not. It means nothing to either of them.

13) Loving You's the Antidote | Explicit | 5070 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending.

14) Sweet Talk With A Hint Of Sin | Explicit | 5095 words

“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry had the nerve to ask, and Louis bristled slightly.

“Well, what the bloody fuck does it look like?” Louis snapped, breaking his seductive demeanor momentarily because he was wearing this ridiculous get-up for Harry. He had thought that this would go over well.

And now that the moment was here, it was going anything but.

Harry’s brain seemingly malfunctioned, completely unbothered by the fact that he was now standing in an actual pool of red wine, or that there might even be broken glass directly next to his feet. He was focused solely on his boy splayed out on their bed. “Are those ears?”

“Yes,” Louis mumbled, reaching up to finger the burnt orange fur of the fox ears. “And a tail,” he said, shifting to lay on his stomach so that his perky ass was on display, showing the way his lube slicked hole had been prepped and was now hugging the impressively sized plug attached to the fox tail.

15) New York's Beauty | Mature | 5274 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love.

Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

16) I Went Astray To Make It Okay And He Made It Easy | Not Rated | 5537 words

Note: This is a sequel to #17 on this list.

Harry makes sure to put on his blue truckers hat that has 'if you ain't a fisherman, you ain't shit' printed on it to hold back his hair out of his eyes. He remembers when he came home after buying it and Louis went on for days about much he looked like such a Dad. He made sure to fuck him hard that night and show him that he's a fucking DILF not just a Dad.

17) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words

Note: This is the prequel to #16 on this list.

"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.

Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.

18) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 6837 words

Harry and Louis are going through a divorce after being together for 10 years, so Louis comes over to collect his things, and, well…what’s a little goodbye sex, just one last time?

19) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8113 words

The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.

That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.

It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his forté. They’re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.

20) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

21) It's A Game We Play In The Sheets | Explicit | 9426 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

22) One Track Mind | Explicit | 9911 words

“You have a lot of friends, huh?”

Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.

“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”

23) See You When I Get Home | Explicit | 10308 words

"What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier.

"You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.

"Me?"

24) Floating | Explicit | 10435 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

25) I'm At Your Mercy Now (And I'm Ready To Begin) | Teen & Up | 10552 words

Where Louis' soulmark was leaked, Harry keeps his private. They're both famous popstars. Louis is waiting for his soulmate, Harry has a feeling it's him but Louis is completely oblivious.

26) You And I 'Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

27) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11377 words

Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.

28) Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (And Never, Never, Ever Let Go) | Explicit | 11524 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when the demon catches feelings for louis, he wants to live.

29) If You're Feeling Lonely | Explicit | 12807 words

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.

Harry Styles.

All he needs to do is confirm whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.

30) Want You To Play With Me | Explicit | 14335 words

"I'm quite not finished with you yet." Harry whispered right on the shell of his ears and squeezed the girth of his cock, making Louis shudder a sloppy puff of air as the tickling sensation ran through his spine, Harry was intoxicating. "Let me play with you a little more, Lou. I promise I'll give you what you want. Be my good boy, hm?" He slowly annunciated every word and licked a warm line on the nape of Louis' neck — Louis curled in his arms at that. Submitting himself a little bit more.

"Always wanna be your good boy." Louis whispered back and enveloped Harry's hand in his.

31) No Good Unless It's Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

32) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18285 words

Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

33) Joker Is Wild | Explicit | 18444 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

34) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Not Rated | 20249 words

Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.

35) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

36) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

37) Under Thorn And Bramble | Explicit | 31931 words

Note: The pairing of this fic is Louis/OMC. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

38) Pink In The Night | Explicit | 32324 words

His finger was tapping on Louis’ chat before Harry could even think about it, eyes reading over the last text he’d sent Louis. I miss you. Do you miss me?

Harry had felt so pathetic that December night, alone in the dark room of the Japanese apartment he’d been staying at, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

Louis hadn’t replied, but Harry wasn’t surprised; he had texted Louis a few times before while he’d been away, but there had never been a response.

It pained him to admit that this was their new normal.

39) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

40) If The Sun Don't Shine | Explicit | 36330 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

41) The Pirate And The Piper | Explicit | 38396 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

42) Begged And Borrowed Time | Mature | 40198 words

Prompt 60: Time travel AU where Louis somehow gets thrown back in time and ends up in the dark ages, during the reign of the Styles family.

43) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.

Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?

44) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43285 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

45) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 44963 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

46) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46588 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

47) Just Always Be Waiting for Me | Explicit | 46837words

Note: Please be sure to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Harry Styles is a librarian at a private school who is not very devoted to his job but is very devoted to Louis Tomlinson, the resident English teacher, and has been ever since they met six years ago beneath a lonely streetlight.

Louis Tomlinson is a self confessed bookworm whose passion for Peter Pan, the literary classics and Harry Styles' happiness knows no bounds. He's self sacrificing, somewhat self loathing and haunted by a trauma he can't talk about.

Mutual pining abounds in this fic where a Peter Pan quote is never just a Peter Pan quote, caretaking is a love language and a platonic nude is never actually platonic. Louis has a kiss that belongs to Harry but he also has a painful past that might end up hurting them both.

48) Since The Future | Explicit | 48947 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

49) Dirty Laundry Looks Good On You | Explicit | 50581 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

50) Hamartia | Explicit | 66970 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

51) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this. words

52) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

53) Rogue | Not Rated | 94992 words

Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindness one he's ever met.

54) Chandeliers And Fake Smiles | Mature | 145010 words

On the brink of winning their first Grammy; up-and-coming rock band One Direction find themselves in the midst of the biggest scandal of their career - right before tickets for their world tour go on sale. in order to save their reputation, Louis Tomlinson must find it in his heart to forgive pop singer and heartthrob Harry Styles after his first impression rubbed him entirely the wrong way. after all, they cannot sell a relationship if it looks like they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

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hollandorks · 2 years

Note

When I saw chapter 19 was posted I got up and shut my door. I was like “I need complete privacy.”

Her and Bruce are two sides of the same coin. When she was in the car thinking and she wanted him to leave her because she didn’t care what happened to her. Her thought that “the city is more important than I am.” Honey, you’re sounding a lot like Bruce. Sweetheart, Bruce wants to protect Gotham, but he wants to protect you more. He loves you.

I can’t believe my panicked “are they gonna try to drug him?” thought was right but it makes sense. Also did he just have that gas mask? I like to think that he didn’t, and he had to stop by a store and pick it up. I like to imagine a clerk being like “ahhhhh what?” and kind of scared out of their mind because holy shit it’s Batman, and he’s buying a gas mask.

Them tying her up just for show? Overdramatic theater kids. But I get it. If the drug wore off before Bruce came that wouldn’t be good. Even though they could easily overpower her. So I get tying her to a chair.

Of course the villains monologued. They always do. When they revealed to her that they were gonna have Bruce kill her, my heart dropped. I bet Bruce heard that and was like “I’d die before I’d hurt her.”

The rescue! I love s a rescue! He’s so sweet and tender. I love that she slowly started to regain control of her body, and the first thing she does is to beg Bruce to leave her. To her, she can die. The city doesn’t need her for its wellbeing and safety. It needs him. It needs Bruce. Nothing can happen to him. She’d rather die.

I bet Bruce was crushed hearing that from her. He’s filled with angst about that for sure. Bruce would rather die a million deaths than leave her there. At the mercy of those men. On one hand they need her to get to Bruce. However, they’d probably just cut their losses and figure out a new plan to get to him. Bruce knows this even if the reader doesn’t.

Her driving his rocket car and telling him not to die before she can say “I told you so” and him just being totally confused. The way his scream haunted her when she touched his wound to wake him back up? Chefs kiss.

Also Alfred immediately being surprised to see her jump out of the car. I’m sure he had a million questions. But his Bruce needed immediate attending. I love her and Alfred working together as a team. I hope they do that a lot more.

I can picture the fear on his face when she took off his cowl. For him, this was it. The last moment of tenderness between them. The last time she’d trust him. And she just hits him with an “I told you so.” Classic. That made me smile.

I can’t wait for their next interaction. I bet she’s going to want to try again, and Bruce is desperately going to put his foot down. He never wants to feel that amount of fear again. He’s finding his checkbook, and he’s paying off her debts. He’s going to want to do it so badly, and she’s not gonna let him. I just can’t wait.

I loved chapter 19 and I am so excited for 20! I adore this story. Also I love you too Shelby!

🦇

***CH 19 SPOILERS***

Total focus: love to see it. I too will lock myself away for a good fanfic 😂

Love that you noticed those similarities 🥺 these two idiots just can't seem to realize how similar they are.

And honestly I didn't think about the gas mask part--I assume he had one because he seems almost like a doomsday prepper/ someone who constantly expects the worst. But it's also fucking hilarious to imagine him in his armor and mask at a store 😂

Villain monologues are a key part of action movies/ shows/ books/ etc. I don't make the rules. The villains just have to monologue. I absolutely know Bruce was losing his shit the whole time (she says as if she isn't the writer lol)

Taking a break to say--ugh I just want to spoil things for my own fic!!! It's so hard!!

Anyways, I knew their dynamic would change when she found out his identity and somehow that just became like....banter. So much banter. The I told you so thing was something I just could not resist. So I'm glad it was enjoyed 😂

Ch 20 coming Monday!! And ngl I really like it!

#these asks are literally the best parts of my day!!!#like it motivates me to keep posting because I crave the feedback #and I LOVEEEEE talking about details of each chapter with people!!!#so basically my anons are the best 🥺#and everyone who comments too #asks #anon #motn spoilers #🦇 anon #🦇

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16woodsequ · 4 years

Note

Can I have some more Steve headcannons please?

Okay! *rubs hands together* Today is a kind of ‘meh’ day for me, so Imma hype myself up with some headcanons ^^

Previous headcanon post, and second one.

TW: discussion of PTSD and panic attacks, and just general angst

Alright *checks notes* first headcanon:

Steve knew about the bugs that SHIELD had in his apartment before Fury told him.

I really like this headcanon, and I put it everywhere. But basically, I think that Steve is smart and observant enough to have found the bugs that SHIELD put into his apartment.

So why would he leave them there? That feeds into another headcanon that I sort of mentioned before, that Steve likes to underestimated. Obviously, SHIELD thought that he either wouldn’t suspect them to bug his home, or he wouldn’t be tech-savvy enough to find the devices. I think Steve wanted to keep it that way. If he removed the bugs, then SHIELD would know he found them, and would react accordingly.

I think Steve would decide it was better to know where the bugs are, rather than remove them and risk having SHIELD put more in that he can’t find. Also, if SHIELD thinks that he doesn’t suspect anything, then they will think whatever they get from his apartment is genuine.

Usually in my mind, SHIELD only implants audio bugs, instead of visual, and they leave his bathroom without bugs.

This is important cuz, for extra angst, now we get to imagine Steve trying to manage his PTSD in an apartment that he knows is bugged.

As you might know with my ‘SHIELD’s A+ Parenting’ headcanon, I fully think Hydra was willing to let Steve struggle with his PTSD, and I doubt they would have done anything if/when they learned about it... but Steve doesn’t know that. So now we have Steve trying to cover for his PTSD in his own home, and the only respite his has is maybe the bathroom.

With audio feeds only at least, he only has to worry about not making a lot of noise during his flashbacks/nightmares etc, but that is still a lot of pressure. (And don’t imagine Steve curled up and panicking on the floor of his bathroom, cuz that’ll just make you sad).

More SHIELD A+ Parenting/ Hydra is terrible

Going along with Hydra-being-inside-SHIELD-didn’t-help-Steve’s-PTSD: If SHIELD gave Steve some kind of counsellor or psychologist after he woke up from the ice, then I headcanon it was a Hydra agent.

That is terrible for several reasons. For one, Steve’s first experience with modern psychology would be with someone - unbeknownst to him - who did not actually want the best for his wellbeing.

Second, and going along with that, if his Hydra-therapist were to be less helpful than would be ideal, Steve wouldn’t know the difference really, and the people at SHIELD would not suspect that there was a problem. They would think he was getting psychological help, when in reality, he was getting anything but.

This would explain why SHIELD dropped the ball so hard with Steve.

Third, after SHIELD, I imagine Steve would be reluctant to get actual help. At some point he is going to have to learn what actual therapy is like. And, maybe, when Natasha puts all of SHIELD’s records onto the internet, he finally learns the his original psychologist was Hydra. That would be extremely violating, and I imagine it would take him a long time afterwards to trust going to a therapist at all— even with encouragement from Sam.

Final headcanon for the day, and going along with the terrible Hydra psychologist: Hydra and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Cabin

This one gets my blood boiling because it is actually canon that SHIELD (/Hydra), sent Steve to “The Retreat” at some point after he woke up from the ice. (This is mentioned in Agents of SHIELD, not in the movies.)

What is The Retreat you asks? Here is the wiki on it, here is the gist:

This safe house retreat is a log cabin that is lined with the same vibranium alloy that is used in "The Cage" on the Bus. The S.H.I.E.L.D. battering ram took a long time to penetrate the door, even though it took very short for them to penetrate the highly armored SUV of Nick Fury. The kitchen was fully equipped with a fridge, sink, and microwave. The living room has a few couches, however, they are very uncomfortable. There is a computer in one corner. A laser fence also lines the perimeter of the property, keeping everything inside contained. Security cameras show everything that happens along the area.

So. A cabin in the middle of nowhere, with security cameras everywhere, and a laser fence around the perimeter.

In other words. A very fancy cell.

*unidentifiable sounds of rage*

Okay. *breathes*. So. We don’t know when, or how long Steve stayed at the cabin (Coulson said ‘after he was defrosted’ and ‘a few weeks’), but, as you can imagine, I have headcanons about those.

Usually I headcanon that Steve is at the cabin for about two weeks, and that SHIELD/Hydra sold it to him as ‘a quiet place were he can catch up on what he missed’. Meaning that they left him there with all the files of the history he missed and told him he could leave once he was finished going through them.

I imagine his (hydra) therapist told him that in order to pass his psych exam for SHIELD, he would need to go to The Retreat. Which is wonderfully manipulative, because it would force Steve to go through all those (probably traumatic) files all by himself if he wants to a) leave the cabin, and b) work for SHIELD (and you can bet that his hydra-therapist made it seem unlikely that he would be able to manage working anywhere else in the 21st century.)

Now, headcanons as to when he did this. I have two separate versions that live side-by-side in my head:

One: SHIELD did this to him before the Battle of New York.

This is just sad because it would mean that Steve spent two+ weeks isolated and alone, reading up on everything he missed, but not really being able to learn about and experience the world he woke up in, before suddenly having to fight aliens and meet his dead-friend’s son (who is 15 years older than him) shortly after finally getting out.

If you want a reason for Steve being high-strung in Avengers, and doing his utmost not to show his PTSD because then he might get sent back to the cabin? Then there you go.

Two: SHIELD sent him to the cabin after the Battle of New York.

I don’t know why, but unlike a lot of people, at the end of Avengers, I didn’t assume that Steve was driving off on his motorcycle to ‘see the world’ or whatever. I instinctively interpreted it as him just driving back to his apartment.

So, if we decide that Steve decides he wants to join SHIELD at the end of Avengers, then that is when SHIELD/Hydra might decide to send him to the cabin.

Which is just great cuz I’m sure fighting aliens and watching people die only a short while after waking up from the ice was just great for Steve and he didn’t need any support or anything during that time. Nah. Isolate him alone in a cabin. Should be fine.

If you want a reason for Steve distrusting therapists and never wanting to admit having problems because he thinks that basically institutionalizing people is still a legitimate technique? There you go.

One day I will write a fic about this bloody cabin, but I haven’t yet.

So yeah. SHIELD/Hydra sucks. And Steve suffered for it.

Apparently we got really angsty headcanons today, but they were fun to share! I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more headcanons let me know!

Headcanon masterpost

#steve rogers #headcanon #asks #SHIELD #SHIELD's A+ Parenting #marvel #mcu #PTSD #panic attacks #steve rogers needs a hug

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Heyo, reporting back to request a continuation of a continuation of a continuation, if you wouldn't mind! Aka, please more 3rd Life Villainpulse angst, I'm so invested (and very curious as to whether his latest murder attempt was an actual success, or if he really should have stuck around to verify the death...)

i genuinely rly love this! i’ve got such plans for it now that i think i’ll make it into an actual proper fic.

i’ve also now posted it on AO3, titled Stand For Nothing! link here

…

Impulse is getting concerned. It’s been over five minutes and no death message in chat. It should’ve happened by now. He had been worried about being found near the scene of a death — it’d already been about five minutes since the meeting and someone would’ve gone to find Skizz, so his items would almost certainly be found — but now he’s starting to think he should have stuck around anyway and made sure the job was finished.

He had been intending to stay here at his villager trading centre until the death notification came up and then he would run back to Dogwarts and play the distressed best friend.

But no death message. So his plan has to change.

When he makes it back to Dogwarts, he finds Ren standing outside the Renchanting building, his face pale. When he spots Impulse, he quickly beckons him. “Impulse! For the love of god, where’ve you been?!”

Impulse blinks. With no death message in chat, what can Ren be so worked up about? “W-What? What’s happened…?”

“Skizzle’s been attacked! We heard an explosion outside our walls and when we went to check, we found him out there, passed out. He’s in a critical condition but Martyn’s with him now and hopefully he’ll recover.”

Impulse can only stare at Ren with an open mouth and a pit in his stomach. Somehow, in all the possible outcomes he pictured for this scenario, he never imagined Dogwarts would actually find Skizz alive. After three perfect murders, it seems he got careless.

“O-Oh my god,” he manages to choke out. “C-Can I see him?”

“Not yet, but Martyn will tell us when we can.”

Ren takes him down into the living area under Renchanting. There, Etho is pacing back and forth in front of a closed door, clearly deep in thought, but he glances up as Ren comes in. “Ren, you found him.”

Ren nods, even though it wasn’t really a question. “Any word?”

“Not yet. Martyn has three healing potions in there with him though, so I’d say Skizz’s chances are really good.”

Impulse has to strain to keep his expression steady at that. “G-Good. That’s good.”

Something changes almost imperceptibly in Etho’s expression, but Ren, clearly not noticing, rubs Impulse’s back reassuringly. “He’ll be okay, Impulse. Don’t worry.”

All Impulse can do is nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the door opens and Martyn appears, his body blocking the view inside the room. “He’s awake,” he reports, a very serious look on his face. “Ren.”

Ren quickly ducks into the room, but when Impulse starts to follow, Martyn blocks him. “Not you,” he says coldly. “Etho, stay with him, please.”

Impulse’s heart freezes. There’s only one reason Martyn would stop him from seeing his injured best friend.

Skizz has told him everything.

He takes a step back and bumps into something behind him, causing him to jump.

“What’s going on, Impulse?” asks Etho casually, an only-just-discernible undertone of danger in his voice. “You seem a little tense.”

“My best friend almost died,” Impulse replies coldly, but even he can tell his words are unconvincing.

“Indeed. I wonder how that happened?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Etho. Why would you have any reason to suspect me?”

Etho just folds his arms and says nothing, infuriating Impulse. “You said I was the only person on this server you really trust!”

“That was before I joined these guys. I’ve had a weird feeling in my stomach about you for a while, Impulse. Something hasn’t felt right since this whole thing started, but I assumed it was just me trying to apply rationality to this irrational world. But one thing never changes, Impulse. No matter how much you try to change it.”

Impulse falls silent, scowling at the ground. He’s already given away too much in his tone and expression.

He glances sideways at Etho, who has his eyes fixed on the door Ren and Martyn went through. Realisation dawns on him: Etho isn’t expecting him to put up a fight. Etho thinks he has nowhere to go.

Now is the time, then. He can’t afford to wait any longer; when Ren and Martyn come back out here, it’s over. Impulse knows he can’t take on three people at once. This is his last chance to escape alive.

So when Etho shifts position a few seconds later, Impulse strikes. Before he can react, Impulse sweeps Etho’s legs out from under him and shoves him into the wall as he’s falling. Without waiting around to see the result of his attack, Impulse takes off running.

He makes it out of Renchanting and is just about to run down the hill towards the crastle when an arrow whizzes by him, nicking the sleeve of his t-shirt and causing him to lose his balance. Suppressing a scream, Impulse topples down the hill and lands in the shallow river at the bottom. He tries to continue onward but has to stop as he puts weight on his left foot and realises he must have twisted his ankle during his fall.

Gritting his teeth through the throbbing pain, he looks up in time to be able to dodge another arrow fired at him by the figure on top of Dogwarts’s wall.

He has to keep going.

Every step on his left foot is agony but he pushes himself on, half-galloping down the hill on the other side, the crastle in his sights.

“Bdubs!” he shrieks as he draws near, his heart racing. The Red Army is likely right behind him. “BDUBS!”

The person he’s calling rushes out of the castle over the drawbridge just in time to catch Impulse as he finally loses his balance and pitches forward.

“Impulse! You’re soaking wet!? What the-?!”

“Th- They’re coming for me,” he croaks. His eyes flicker up and he spots two faces in the windows on the second floor. It’s time for the performance of his life. “Dogwarts turned on me! They think I killed Tango and Cleo a-a-and made you kill Joel!”

“What?!” gasps Bdubs. “That’s ridiculous! Why would they think that?!”

“I-I don’t know but th- They’re gonna kill me, Bdubs…!”

“Not on my watch!”

Bdubs quickly ushers Impulse inside the crastle and into the waiting arms of Jimmy. Together, the two guide Impulse upstairs and lay him down in the bed Grian has placed in a position safely away from the slit windows.

“What happened, Impulse?” Bdubs asks softly. “How did they turn on you?”

Impulse takes a shaky breath. “Something happened to Skizz. He… He got attacked. Then he told everyone it was me and that I’d killed Tango and Cleo and manipulated you into killing Joel.”

“First of all, that’s utterly ridiculous,” Bdubs snaps. “I killed Joel because he was about to kill you. And second, why on earth would you want to kill Tango or Cleo?”

“I-I think you might’ve been right, Bdubs. I th-think Etho was responsible for Cleo’s death. And now he’s got Dogwarts trying to make me a scapegoat.”

Bdubs’s gaze darkens. “Despicable little-.”

“BDOUBLEO!”

“Stay there,” says Bdubs.

He strides to the window, flanked by Grian and Scott, armed with his crossbow. “What do you want, Ren?”

Down on the ground, having left Skizz in the care of BigB, stand Ren, Martyn, and Etho, staring up at the castle. The latter two hold bows, while Ren is armed with a sword and shield.

“We know Impulse is hiding out in there,” Ren announces, with the regal but dangerous air of a king. “Hand him over to us, Bdubs.”

“No way in hell,” Bdubs snaps back. “He told me everything!”

“We can guarantee you he did not,” responds Martyn steadily. “Not the truth, anyway. He’s using you, Bdubs.”

“YOU’re the ones using HIM! As a scapegoat!”

“Impulse isn’t the angel you think he is, Bdubs,” Etho says darkly. “You’re protecting the person who killed Cleo.”

“No, YOU killed Cleo,” snarls Bdubs. “And I bet you killed Tango too and tried to blame it on me! You’re just trying to frame anyone you can so you can get away with it!”

Despite the pain and stress he’s experiencing, Impulse can’t help feeling proud of himself. The seeds of doubt and suspicion he’s sown between Bdubs and Etho are paying off now.

“Bdubs.” Ren’s voice drops slightly as emotion creeps into his tone. “He attacked his best friend and left him to die. If we hadn’t found him in time, Skizz would have succumbed to his injuries alone and terrified in the middle of nowhere, murdered by his own best friend.”

“What exactly is Impulse’s motive supposed to be, here?” Scott asks suddenly. “You say he killed Tango and Cleo, orchestrated Joel’s death, and tried to murder Skizzle. Why exactly would he want to do that?”

“Skizz claims Impulse said it was because Tango “knew too much” about something,” Martyn says. “Some kind of secret that Impulse is keeping. And that Cleo’s and Joel’s deaths were “necessary to push the war forward”. That’s his motive, Scott. Impulse wants war, and he doesn’t care who he hurts to get it.”

“We ARE talking about the same Impulse, right?” demands Bdubs. “Our Impulse? The sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly? Are we sure Skizz didn’t just misremember? He's a little unreliable like that. Maybe he said it was someone else who-.”

“Don’t you dare!” Martyn bursts out suddenly, his voice filled with the most venom anyone had ever heard it. “Don’t you DARE say that! You weren’t there, Bdubs! You didn’t have to fix his broken ribs and his fractured neck and his shattered arm! You weren’t there when he finally woke up after several minutes of crying out and panicked breathing like he was having a nightmare! You didn’t hear the way he cried, how terrified he was when he told me what happened, the raw agony in his voice! That’s not the demeanor of someone who MISREMEMBERED! Skizz has gone through hell today and it’s all Impulse’s fault! So I’m not leaving here without his head, in one form or another!”

“YEAH!” Ren yells in agreement, hitting his sword against his shield. “No more arguments. No more wasting time. If you don’t give us Impulse right NOW, we will declare war on you and take him by force.”

Inside the crastle, Impulse’s heart skips a beat. This is it: the moment of truth. Either everything he’s been working towards will finally come to fruition… or Bdubs will hand him over and he will die.

Bdubs straightens up, a steely look of determination appearing in his eyes.

“Then consider us at war.”

#3rdlifesmp #3rd life smp #impulsesv #bdubs #rendog #skizzleman #etho #vaunna’s requests

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jaehyunhour · 4 years

Text

sacred heart | mark lee

genre + idol → slow burn, angst, smut, college au, college!mark (x fem!reader), ft. slight johnny x reader

word count → 5.1k

warnings → mentions of sex, explicit language, alcohol consumption, college party, blasphemy, oral (m/receiving), unprotected sex (always wear a condom pls guys), sex in a church.

summary → mark lee is warm ocean water and you are unrelenting cold air — together you are a hurricane.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing inside Sacred Heart this late on a Friday night?”

“Father Fitz hid a spare key in the birdhouse outside for me in case I ever felt like being with Christ.”

“You’re so holy, Mark.”

a/n → i’m trying a new style/format for my fics hehe, normally my fics are written in all lower case but this one is actually capitalized properly so~~ let me know if it makes any difference. also this fic is purely an act of self-indulgence because i go to a jesuit institution and think a lot about going to my college campus’s church with mark.

Mark lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls his keys out from his pocket. It’s been a long day — he had a sociology midterm in the morning, left his meal card in his room so he couldn’t get cafeteria lunch, and broke a glass beaker in his Chemistry lab. All he wants to do is get back into his room, have a bowl of instant ramen, get into bed and sleep early. But as soon as the door swings open and he looks inside, he’s met with your beautiful yoga short clad ass laying in Johnny’s bed. His dick twitches in his pants at the sight and he lets out a sigh. You turn over to lay on your back, making eye contact with Mark as he stands stunned at the door.

To many, Mark Lee is just your typical Christ-loving Chemistry major Mama’s Boy. He has no real enemies, treating everyone as his equal and giving them the respect they deserve. He chose to attend a Jesuit institution despite his Christian upbringing because he wanted to “see another side of our Savior.” He is so painfully average to most, but to you he is everything. He is the most passionate, intelligent, and hard-working person you have ever met. His love for Christ shines in all of his relationships, he is kind and caring and thoughtful. He makes your heart skip a beat and your pussy clench.

You give Mark a smile as he takes in your entire figure — your cheeks are flushed pink, hickies littering your neck and your hair is a mess. You still haven’t come down from your post-sex high and Mark can tell.

“Mark! You’re here!” You say excitedly, jumping up off the bed to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t reciprocate, his hands staying still at his sides as you pull back, pushing his hair out of his face and fixing his glasses for him.

“You didn’t come to lab today,” Mark mumbles, pushing you off him as he heads over to his desk. The bedroom door slams behind him, making you jump, as you watch Mark grumpily dump his things out on his desk before slipping into bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was going to come I swear, but I came over to get something from Johnny and then… I forgot,” you pause for a moment. “Do you have the lab?”

“Yeah, it’s in my notebook, I can send you pictures tomorrow. Where’s Johnny?”

“He went to go get food. I saw you left your meal card and I didn’t want you to eat ramen for dinner, so I had him go get fried chicken for us.” you sit on the edge of Mark’s bed, your hand reaching out to play with his hair. He relaxes into your touch and lets out a content sigh. Mark knows this is so wrong — you’re sleeping with his roommate, he’s heard you guys before, but he can’t help the overwhelming warmth that overtakes his body when you act like this with him. You care so much for him, and Mark wishes you would just get over Johnny and be with him.

“Bad day, baby?” you ask. Mark nods with a slight pout on his lips. His eyes are shut closed, unwilling to open them and stare at the love bites all over your neck and chest left by Johnny. He would rather live in blissful ignorance than face reality. You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and just as you pull back, Johnny walks through the door holding your food.

“Honey, I’m hooooome,” Johnny says in a sing-song voice. You shoot up and out of Mark’s bed quickly, running over to Johnny and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sets the food down on the table in the middle of the room, placing his hands on the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let out a giggle as he kisses you.

“Did you miss me?” Johnny asks, squeezing your thighs. You nod in response. “I bet you did, you dirty little wh—“

“— Can we just eat?”

During dinner, Johnny asks you to spend the night and Mark knows he isn’t going to be getting the rest that he deserves after the shit storm of a day he had. Every time you spend the night, you and Johnny talk late into the night, kissing and touching underneath the covers. It wouldn’t bother Mark if he could at least see you — see the look on your face as you cum undone on Johnny’s fingers, your teeth biting down on your fingers to try and keep the noise in — but he has to pretend he doesn’t know what’s happening. And tonight is no different. Mark stares at the wall of his room, back turned towards you and Johnny, and he listens as Johnny eats you out at 4 in the morning. He can hear the sloppy wet noises as Johnny’s fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, the sound of the bed shaking slightly as your entire body convulses when you cum, and the whimpers muffled by your fingers as you reach your high. Both his dick and his heart hurt as it all goes down, and Mark wonders if he’ll ever be the reason for your early morning muffled whines.

The following week, you get to lab before Mark does. You bought him his favorite sandwich from the cafeteria as an apology for not showing up to lab the week before, and did the pre-lab assignments for this lab and the next to take some weight off his shoulders. When Mark walks into lab just barely on time, and sees you sitting patiently at your assigned table, he can’t help the smile that forms on his face. Your heart begins beating faster at how happy Mark is to see you, and the butterflies in your stomach are flying rapidly. Mark wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans as he walks over to you, and you do the same underneath the table. He takes a seat, and before he can even get a word in, you’re already talking.

“I brought you your favorite sandwich,” you say, handing him the neatly wrapped sandwich. “And I already did the pre-lab today and for next week, so you don’t have to worry about it. I’m sorry again about last week!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark says, shrugging his backpack off and placing it on the floor next to him. He unwraps the sandwich, quickly taking a big bite and letting out a satisfied groan at the first bite. “God, how did you know this is what I get?”

“Well, I actually didn’t know. I went to go get a sandwich for lunch today, and I was talking to Julio, the deli guy, and you know how I overshare… I told him you were upset at me for missing lab, and he handed me this sandwich and said ‘para tu amante’ and then I left.”

“What’s amante mean?”

“Lover,” you explain. Mark chokes on the sandwich and your eyes widen, as your hand instinctively moves to pat his back.

“Did you correct him?”

You shake your head no and Mark raises an eyebrow at you, continuing to eat the sandwich as you wait for your instructor to arrive and begin class. “Why would I?”

“Well, I just figured, you and Johnny—“

“— Johnny isn’t my boyfriend, he’s just a pretty boy to mess around with. Plus, you’re really the only one who knows that I’m involved with him.”

“I’m not your boyfriend, either,” Mark mumbles.

“But you’re more to me than Johnny is.”

Before Mark can respond, or even process what you’ve said, your professor walks through the lab doors and begins instructing you guys on your lab. Mark can’t focus very hard on the tasks in front of him, your words loud in his mind, so he lets you take the lead on the assignment. It’s the least you could do for abandoning him the week before.

The following week, Mark walks into his room after another long day half-expecting to see your yoga clad ass laying in Johnny’s bed yet again, but this time — your beautiful ass is laying in his bed. You’re half asleep already, trying so hard to stay awake as you wait for Mark to get home. You hold one of his plushies in your arms, snuggling close to it and Mark’s body relaxes at the sight.

“Where’s Johnny?” Mark asks, puncturing the comfortable silence. You jump awake at his words and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and running your fingers through your hair.

“He had to go pull an all-nighter at the library for his Comp Sci midterm project, he left like 3 hours ago.” You explain. Mark knows that Johnny’s Comp Sci midterm project isn’t due for another two weeks, and he hates that Johnny lied to you just so he could go stick his dick in someone else after already having you. But Mark doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’s lying, he’s afraid he’ll never see you in his bed again if you stop seeing Johnny, so he plays along.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because this is quite the view,” Mark begins, motioning to your half-naked body in his bed. “But why are you still here?”

“I wanted to see you,” you mumble, sinking back into his bed. You shift onto your side, and Mark slips into his bed, laying on his side to face you. Mark locks eyes with you, lips parted slightly and tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his lips.

You reach a hand out to play with his hair, an action all too familiar for Mark but his heart still races as if it was the first time. “How was your day, baby?”

Mark sighs at the pet name. “It was okay, I s’pose. It just felt so long, I couldn’t wait to get home and sleep.”

“Sorry, I should’ve just gone home when Johnny left, you would be asleep right now, but I missed your face.”

“That’s okay, I’m not complaining,” Mark responds. You twirl the ends of Mark’s hair between your fingers, tugging slightly to see if he’ll react but he doesn’t. He’s too busy memorizing every feature of your face, his eyes traveling from the part of your hair down to your neck and taking a mental photograph of what your neck looks like without Johnny’s markings all over it. You are so beautiful to him. “Hey, Y/N?” Mark asks, shattering the silence between you two. Your fingers stop moving as your eyes shift from the ends of his hair back to his face, locking eyes with him again.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Have you ever thought about ending things with Johnny?”

“I have.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I think about falling in love and I know I don’t want to be in love with him.”

“And have you ever… nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, no, it’s not stupid. Ask me,” you say.

“Have you ever… thought about me, like that?” Mark mumbles shyly, flopping down onto his back to avoid your gaze, but he can feel your eyes staring at him still.

“I’ve thought about you in a lot of different ways,” you admit. “Some are nice, and others, well…”

“Well?”

“Let’s just say, Father Fitz is getting real tired of hearing my voice at Sunday confession.”

“Oh,” Mark says quietly, his dick stirring at his pants at the thought of you thinking such unholy things about him that you feel the need to confess at Sunday confession. He knows you aren’t particularly religious, only choosing a Jesuit college because of the scholarship money, so it must be really dirty if you really do attend confession just to talk about him.

“Mark?” You ask. Mark shifts his body onto his side again, locking eyes with you for the final time that night. His eyes are wide and glossy, a direct mirror image of yours. “Can I kiss you?”

Before Mark can process the question, he’s nodding his head yes. The hand that was previously playing with Mark’s hair now rests on his cheek, and you lean down and capture his lips in yours. His lips taste like cherry chapstick and you smile into the kiss. Your hand leaves his cheek, trailing down to his stomach, slipping underneath his shirt as your fingernails scratch at his abs. He lets out a gasp and your tongue slips into his mouth, kissing him with more passion and fervor. Mark has never kissed anyone like this before and he’s a bit unsure of what to do, but his tongue meets yours and he follows your lead. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his underwear, but his hand shoots out quickly to stop you.

You pull away, concerned etched on your face, but before you can ask if he’s okay, he’s already speaking. “We shouldn’t,” Mark says. “Johnny might come back and see.”

“Right,” you say, nodding. You lay on your back on his bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars Mark has on his ceiling. “Did you stick those yourselves or did it come with the room when you moved in?”

“I put them myself, I really like stargazing but have never had anyone to go with, so I do this until I find someone special enough to go stargazing with.”

“Am I special to you, Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go stargazing with you one day,” you say, cuddling into Mark’s side and closing your eyes. You yawn, and within minutes you’re knocked out. Mark waits to hear your quiet snores to know you’re fully asleep, before picking you up and putting you to sleep in Johnny’s bed. He knows Johnny won’t come home tonight, but just in case he does, he doesn’t want to have to explain why you were asleep in his bed, cuddling him.

“God, you drive me fucking crazy,” Mark says, tucking you into Johnny’s bed and pressing a kiss to your forehead, then jumping back into his bed and willing the tent in his pants to go away so he can sleep peacefully.

When Mark says you drive him fucking crazy, he means it. He’s so infatuated with you, it drives him up the wall. He can’t stand the way you and Johnny walk all over him — you guys act like a couple around him, he hears you fool around, but as soon as Johnny has gotten his nut in you’re in Mark’s bed, cuddling him and kissing him. He feels like he’s getting Johnny’s sloppy seconds, he’s playing the part of boyfriend that Johnny refuses to play.

But it’s such a comfortable role for him. He loves the way you kiss him when Johnny isn’t around. He loves the way you baby him outside of this tiny dorm room, the way you take care of him in lab and make sure he’s eating and getting the rest he needs to function. He loves the way people think you’re dating and the way you don’t correct them. He loves when you sneak out of Johnny’s bed once he knocks out, just to come tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight. He’s a masochist: he loves the pain and pleasure that comes with being in love with you.

Mark knows this isn’t sustainable. He knows this isn’t healthy but he doesn’t reach his breaking point until he decides to attend the end of semester Tri Delta party. After months of being in this game with you, the semester is finally over and he will have a month long break from you before you guys are ultimately stuck with each other again next semester in yet another chemistry lab. Mark isn’t one to party, preferring to stay indoors and binge watch whatever show he’s been trying to finish, but he hopes that he will run into you there, that you will finally kiss him in public and he will be more than just your dirty little secret. More than just his roommate’s casual fuck, his midnight kisser, his lab partner.

He walks into the sorority house and is immediately uncomfortable. The music is loud, lights are flashing, and he just wants to go back home and get into bed. But he refuses to leave until he sees you, has a few drinks at the very least, and kisses you once for someone to see. He doesn’t care if it’s Johnny, or if it’s one of the sorority girls, he just wants someone to see you and Mark together. In public. He’s spotted by one of your friends and she runs over to him and pulls him into a hug. He recognizes her from his Ethics lecture, and from the polaroid photo you have of her in your phone case.

“Mark! What are you doing here?” She asks, loud voice competing with the loud music in the house.

“I’m just trying to have a little fun, I s’pose,” Mark responds.

“You look like a fish out of water! Do you want a drink or anything?”

“I’ll probably have one later… Have you seen Y/N?”

“She’s here somewhere! Hey, what’s up with you two? Are you guys together or what?”

“Uh,” Mark pauses for a second, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Something like that.”

“She’s always got these huge hickies all over her neck. You’re a dog, Mark! Have some fun tonight,” she pulls him into another quick hug and walks away.

Mark sighs, wiping the sweat from his forehead before traveling deeper into the party. He scans the living room carefully, looking for your small frame, but he doesn’t see you anywhere in there. He sees many different couples, kissing and touching and grinding in the middle of the living room to the beat of the song. He’s glad you’re not in there, with someone random, but he just prays that you aren’t upstairs inside someone’s room getting stuffed by someone who isn’t him. It should be him.

And his prayers are answered. He walks into the kitchen and sees you. You aren’t out in the living room dancing with someone random, you aren’t upstairs inside someone’s room getting stuffed by someone else. You’re sitting up on the kitchen counter, drink in hand, as Johnny stands between your legs with one of his arms wrapped around you. Johnny pulls you close to him, and you smile as your other arm wraps around his neck. There’s an uncomfortable tightness that builds in Mark’s chest as he sees you there with him. You’re not one for public affection, to tell people who you spend time with behind closed doors, and Mark can already feel the rumors of you and Johnny beginning to circulate.

You feel someone staring at you, and tear your gaze away from Johnny to the entrance to the kitchen. You see Mark standing there, in his tight jeans and a black button up, and your heart swells at the sight. He’s wearing contacts, a sight all too familiar for you, and his hair is styled back and you can see his forehead. He looks absolutely incredible. Without thinking, you push Johnny off of you and you smile brightly as you make your way over to Mark. Mark doesn’t return your smile, instead he turns around and walks straight out of the party. You stand stunned in the middle of the kitchen, smile dropping from your face. Johnny comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing his lips to your ears.

“Let’s go upstairs, honey,” Johnny asks, rutting his hips against your ass. Your heart hurts and you just want to see Mark.

“I-I’m gonna go, sorry Johnny, I’ll see you later. Maybe,” you say quietly, barely audible over the music. You shrug Johnny off your body, downing the rest of your drink and walking towards campus in search of Mark. The air is cold, it’s nearly midnight and the fog is settling low as you walk in no particular direction. You walk past all of the lecture halls, past the science building, wondering where Mark could be until you see the church in the distance.

You walk into the church using the side door and are met with Mark sitting in one of the pews in the middle of the church. You shrug your jacket off, placing it on the coatrack near the door and walk towards him slowly, your footsteps echoing in the empty church.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing inside Sacred Heart this late on a Friday night?’ you ask.

“Leave me alone,” Mark responds.

“I asked you a question, baby.”

“Father Fitz hid a spare key in the birdhouse outside for me in case I ever felt like being with Christ.”

“You’re so holy, Mark.”

You stand in front of him in the pew, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slither into his lap. Mark’s arms instinctively wrap around your waist and he sighs, looking at your face. The moonlight shines through the stained glass windows, illuminating Mark’s face. His cheekbones sit high on his face, sitting prettily and one of your hands reaches for his face to trace all of his features. By now, Mark has taken his contacts out and is wearing his glasses again.

“Why do you have to hurt me?” Mark asks quietly.

Your breath gets caught in your chest at Mark’s sudden forwardness. He’s never been so forward or open with you about anything before and it leaves you shocked. Deep down, you knew what you were doing with Mark wasn’t right, but you didn’t think you were actually hurting him. Tears brim in your eyes as you think about a response, you knew you weren’t in any position to be crying, Mark is the one who’s being hurt. One of his hands wipes the tears from your eyes before returning back to your waist.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why can’t you just end things with Johnny? Do you know how much it fucking sucks to feel like I’m getting his sloppy seconds?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. You slink into Mark’s body, resting your head in the crook of his neck and willing the tears to go away. “I shouldn’t be crying, Mark, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve any of this, I’ll end things with Johnny. I promise.”

“Stop crying,” Mark says, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. “Don’t cry, c’mon, baby.”

You pull back, sniffling slightly while wiping the tears from your eyes and letting out a giggle. You hold Mark’s cheeks in your hands before leaning in and pecking him on the lips.

“What was that for?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me baby. I like it,” you respond.

“Did Johnny ever ca—“

“— Never. I never let him.”

“Y/N, I really think I’m in love with you.”

“I know.”

“Do you lo—“

“— Yes. You’re special to me, Mark. You know that.”

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, and in an instant his lips are on yours. He kisses you as if he’s been wanting to kiss you for his entire life, even though he had kissed you just two days ago in his bed. But this time it’s different, Johnny isn’t in the bed next to you. He knows he won’t hear you cum around Johnny’s fingers tonight, because you’ll be cumming around his. Tonight, you are his, and he’s going to treasure this moment.

Mark slips his tongue into your mouth, yours coming out to play with and tease his. Your hips grind down against his, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and tightly grips your hips, pulling you closer and pushing you down harder. A whine slips past your lips, muffled by his, and you can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear.

It isn’t until Mark pulls away, lips attaching to your neck and beginning to leave hickies that you realize where you are. The stained glass windows remind you that you are in a sacred place, Mark’s safe space, and you are actively sinning.

“M-Mark, we’re still in the church, let’s go back to yours,” you suggest. His hips buck up, his hard on begging to be released from the confines of his jeans.

“Don’t care,” Mark mumbles against the skin of your neck. “I won’t make it back to my room.”

You push Mark off of you slightly, and he looks concerned. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, when you sink down onto your knees in front of him. Mark pushes his pants and underwear down quickly, cock springing out and hitting his lower stomach. Your hand reaches out to touch him, and you spit on the tip, letting it dribble down the side of his cock.

“Oh my god,” Mark says with a whine. He can’t believe the sight in front of him: you on your knees for him in the middle of the church, hand wrapped around his dick pumping him slowly, and tongue kitten licking at the tip.

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain, Mark,” you say, before wrapping your lips around the tip entirely and taking him further in your mouth. You go as far down as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark throws his head back, his hands coming up to hold your head still as he thrusts into your mouth.

“F-fuck, you feel so fucking good. So so good, oh my God.”

Mark thrusts into your mouth slowly, memorizing the feeling of your wet hot mouth wrapped around his hard dick. You’re so good to him, and in this moment, Mark knows he doesn’t want anyone else to ever suck his dick. He looks down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth, you’ve pushed your pants down slightly and your hand is shoved inside of your panties rubbing at your clit. You whine around Mark’s dick, the feeling of your fingers rubbing quickly on your clit bringing you closer and closer to your high by the second. You’ve been waiting for the day you finally get to see Mark like this, and you can’t believe it’s finally happening. You pull back, Mark’s dick slipping out of your mouth, and your fingers move faster.

“Fuck, Mark, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Let me see you cum, baby. Wanna see you get all messy for me.”

And with that, you let out a loud moan and cum in front of Mark. You clench around nothing, the emptiness frustrating, but you relax and slump onto Mark’s thigh as you come down from your high.

“Get up, baby,” Mark says. You nod, standing up as your legs tremble slightly. Mark pulls your pants and underwear the rest of the way down, helping you step out of it before pulling you back onto his lap. You grind against him, wet pussy covering his dick and bringing him so much pleasure.

“You know, when Father Fitz gave you the keys to the church to be with Christ, I don’t think this is what he meant, Mark.”

Mark pushes his cock into you, and lets out a groan at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him. You let out a sigh of his name, head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Your pussy is God.”

Mark quickly begins thrusting up into you, fucking you with all of the pent up rage he’s been holding in from hearing you fool around with Johnny for the last few months, and you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. Your hands rest on Mark’s shoulders, gripping tightly as he drills into you, your hips rolling forward to meet each of his thrusts. You let out a particularly loud moan of his name, head lolling onto his shoulder. You press a kiss to his neck, taking the skin into your mouth and between your teeth, leaving a beautiful purple mark on his neck as he moves his hips to thrust into you in a particular angle.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last,” Mark says, hips already beginning to fail in their rhythm as he gets closer and closer to his high.

“Mark, please cum inside me,” You say, one of your hands reaching for Mark’s hand, bringing it to your clit. His thumb rubs messily at your clit, bringing you closer to your own high. His eyes travel all over your body, taking in the sight in front of him. Your neck is covered in marks that he has left, your pussy is wrapped tightly around his dick, his fingers are rubbing at your clit, your hair is all over the place because of him, and you’re cumming around his dick saying his name. His. Not Johnny’s.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around him, and the sound of you calling his name, Mark’s hips stutter and push his dick all the way into you. He cums in thick white ropes, filling you with his cum as his hands grip your hips tightly, whining as he says your name. You both sit there, breathing heavily as you try to come down from your high. Mark’s dick softens inside of you, and you smile at him as you try to regulate your breathing.

Your cheeks are flushed pink, hickies littering your neck, and your hair is a mess. Your post-sex look is nothing new to Mark, he’s seen it a million times, but this time it’s different. This time, you’re dazed and satisfied because of him. He feels his heart swell in his chest at the realization, and he brings you in for another soft kiss.

“Baby, we should probably leave the church,” you suggest.

“Probably,” Mark says. He leans over, still inside you, pulling your underwear and pants up off the floor to help you redress. You both whine softly when he pulls out, and he quickly slips your underwear on for you. His cum drips out of you, pooling in your underwear as you pull your pants back up. Mark redresses, holding your hand as he walks out of the church, locking it behind him and hiding the key back in the birdhouse.

He instinctively begins walking towards his dorm, but you pull him in the opposite direction.

“Y/N, I live on the other side of campus,” Mark says.

“I know,” you respond. “We’re going to the soccer field.”

“Why?”

“It’s the best spot on campus to look at the stars. I went earlier this week so I could take you there.”

“But it’s cold,” Mark whines. You roll your eyes, slipping your jacket off and placing it over his shoulders.

“There you go. C’mon, let’s go.”

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