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#the possibilities are endless and they get worse every time
megamindsupremacy · 1 year
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Ways for the Percy Jackson show to handle the St. Louis Arch problem:
1) move the entire arch. It was over the river the whole time you’re insane.
2) shoot Percy out of the side like a rocket and have him sail 100 feet directly horizontal before falling into the river, Looney Tunes-style
3) water grabs Percy
4) Percy falls down out of the Arch and then the camera cuts and he hits the water with no explanation of how he got there
5) Percy knocks the entire fucking bridge into the river. There’s a minor explosion at the top and the whole thing just tips over
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bilal-salah0 · 2 months
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Waiting in endless lines to secure some food or water, fending off disease-carrying insects, and enduring the suffocating summer heat in a makeshift tent; This is what our children's lives have been reduced to.
My family is still trapped in Gaza going through unbearable levels of hardship, completely cut off from the world, malnourished, thirsty and exhausted, and still in mortal danger every minute of every day.
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The last airstrike that targeted the camps in Mawassi khan Yunis hit almost near their tent. They barely made it. My heart sank when I heard of the attack and I started frantically calling everyone but none of them answered. Fortunately, my brother later called and said they miraculously survived but it could have been worse. The sound of the bombing was so close; the babies and the kids started crying. Omar was shivering from fear. I was relieved that they had survived but I kept asking myself.
What if they don't next time?! What will become of them if the borders are not opened soon enough?!
Will our babies become numbers and statistics on phone screens?!
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Please help me look after them and keep them as safe as possible until they get the chance to evacuate 🙏
we have currently reached €60,837 out of €70,000 our aim.
I truly believe we can make it and achieve our goal thanks to your generosity.
Please keep donating and reblogging. Every single contribution is crucial to my family's very survival!
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yerimacoustic · 15 days
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𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 ♡ 𝙨. 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙥𝙨 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
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summary: you, the head girl of the ravenclaw house, realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when you take part in a risky challenge with your arch nemesis, seungcheol. 📚🧺🥀
content warnings: academic rivals to implied lovers, hogwarts!au, gryffindor!s.coups and ravenclaw!reader, you’re both head boy and head girl of your houses, banter, banter and more banter (i did my best with it okay), light swearing, kissing, not proofread (sorry besties) 9.8k wc.
note: this took me wayyyy too long but i’m cooking another idea for a fic for a certain seventeen member, so i’m trying to get back into the swing of things <3
“doesn’t it look beautiful?” professor slughorn gazed at the tiny vial resting on his desk, just barely out of reach from the rest of the students. although you had an inkling of what the contents in the bottle really were, you felt just as confused as the rest of your peers.
your best friend, irene was the first to speak up, “professor, what exactly is it?” 
“thank you for asking. what you see before you is a curious little potion known as felix felicis. otherwise known as-“ 
“liquid luck,” you chimed in with a voice behind you just barely beating you to the punch. you knew who it was without turning your head back: choi seungcheol. typical. he was always trying to outshine you. 
ever since the two of you had been selected as prefects for your houses, gryffindor and ravenclaw, he seemed hellbent on making your life miserable. you two seemed to constantly be competing. whether it was for the house cup, who would be the top of the class, even who managed to get their students into bed with all the lights out first. it only got worse when the two of you were selected to be in the slug club, seeing a lot more of each other as a result. 
unfortunately, slughorn seemed to catch onto your rivalry rather quickly and while he never acknowledged it out loud, there were several instances where he seemed to be fanning the fire.
“yes, that is correct, y/n and seungcheol. liquid luck.” professor slughorn lifted the glass from desk, holding it on display for everyone to see more clearly. “desperately tricky to make, disastrous if you get it wrong. however.. one sip and you will find that all of your endeavors will succeed. well.. until the effects wear off.”
you tilted your chin up while trying to hide a mischievous grin from your classmates. you pondered everything you could achieve from one mere sip of the rare potion- you could pass all of your exams with flying colors, you could finish all of your projects in record time.. the possibilities were endless! 
unfortunately, you weren’t the only one chasing good fortunes. seungcheol knew if he led the gryffindor’s team to another consecutive victory, he would be a shoe-in for the holyhead harpies. after all, what was more impressive than leading your time to a winning season four years in a row? he could picture professor dumbledore handing him the house cup clear as day- surely his career in quidditch would only skyrocket from there. 
just as both of you pondered how you would be able to get your hands on such a remarkable potion, slughorn clapped his hands, “now, usually every student in my class gets the opportunity to compete for the potion. this year we are doing things a little differently: the two students with the highest grade point averages are competing against each other!”
oh no. 
you didn’t doubt for a second that you were one of the students in the running; a large folder dedicated to very successful report cards gave you more than enough confidence in your chances. but you didn’t like considering the odds of who your opponent could be: irene, your best friend. jihyo, another member of the quidditch team who had a secret affinity for brewing potions. or.. seungcheol. but what was there to be said about him that hadn’t been said already?
slughorn made a rather dramatic show of reaching into his drawer to grab the grade sheets. you held your breath as you watched the professor reposition his glasses and examine the parchment with furrowed eyebrows. he cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gazed towards the class, “the two students with the highest scores are…”
now the entire class seemed to be holding their breath. comically, mina and sana leaned in close while waiting for slughorn’s revelation. your gaze shifted unwillingly towards seungcheol, who winked at you. you replied by scowling and looking away with a huff. if merlin was on your side at all, if he really did have a hand in all of your dealings with other witches and wizards, he would let anyone besides choi seungcheol be your contender. 
“seungcheol and y/n, respectively!” slughorn announced cheerfully, setting the parchment on his desk in favor of leading the rest of the class in applause. 
respectively? 
seungcheol scored higher than you? how was that even possible? 
“what?” you scoffed, furrowing your eyebrows. 
“don’t act so surprised, y/n.” seungcheol smirked in your direction, his chest puffing out as he threw his shoulders back. “you’re not the only one in this school working your ass off.”
“but i am the only one who’s finally going to knock you off your high horse,” you retorted.
“i feel the need to remind you both-” slughorn interjected, sending something between a glare and a look of concern in your direction. his tone wasn’t scolding, much to your own surprise. “to keep things civil. if you cannot abide by my classroom’s policies during this.. impromptu competition, then i will have no choice but to eliminate you both and revert back to my old customs.”
you parted your lips but seungcheol was quick to interject and smooth-talk the professor (as he always seemed to have a talent for doing), “you have nothing to worry about, professor. i don’t mind a little competition.” suddenly he looked towards you with a shit eating grin. “especially not when it's so damn cute.” 
and there it was- that furious, fiery sensation in your cheeks. you weren’t sure if it occurred out of genuine flattery, embarrassment or.. pure rage. you wouldn’t have been surprised if steam fell out of your ears in that moment- you were in pure shock and disbelief that he would say something like that in front of everyone. of course, you were also shaming yourself for being so surprised; it was seungcheol, after all. 
the professor ignored the catty whistles and cheers in the classroom with a wave of his hand, “very well. the two of you will brew a draught of the living dead. the first one to create the acceptable potion wins. and there will be no backseat brewing from the rest of the class; you are to take notes on both students’ techniques, is that understood?”
silence passed through the classroom, a few students nodding their heads in response before slowly making their way to the back of the class. “good. seungcheol, y/n, i will give you a few minutes to get your ingredients. good luck to the both of you.”
you, of course, were searching through your textbook for the recipe before slughorn had even extended his best wishes. irene, luckily, had stayed by your side to provide you some much needed moral support. of course, you barely noticed; your nose stuck so far in your textbook you couldn’t see past the faded words. this is what you get for buying it secondhand. 
“you’re gonna do great, y/n,” irene reassured you. “seungcheol doesn’t know the first thing about potions. you’ve got this.”
you chuckled bitterly. “obviously that’s not true. he’s top of the class.”
“she’s got a point there,” seungcheol chimed in, smirking. “don’t worry, y/n, i’m sure there’s plenty of positions in the ministry of magic for people who aren’t proficient in potion brewing. like.. secretaries or scribes; you know, record keepers.”
his words prompted you to slam your book shut, keeping your thumb between the pages so you wouldn’t lose your spot. you looked past your shoulder, keeping your tone hushed so slughorn couldn’t hear the two of you bickering. “need i remind you that i’m the second ranking student in this class for a reason. all it’s going to take for me to rise above the ranks is to beat you at this stupid little competition.
“and by the way, i’m more than proficient at potion brewing.”
“says the one who mixed up dittany and wolfsbane two weeks ago,” seungcheol retorted. 
“it was a simple mistake! anyone could have made it,” you argued.
much to your dismay, seungcheol’s best friend sangyeon felt the need to chime in with a smirk, “why don’t we raise the stakes a little bit?”
“what do you mean?” irene asked, cocking a brow.
“it’s felix felicis we’re competing for. the stakes have never been higher,” you deadpanned.
“i mean- you two obviously have some arguments and disputes you need to resolve. maybe this competition could be a good chance for the two of you to humble each other.”
you tilted your head, part of you in disbelief that you were actually entertaining his words and another part of you believing that he actually made a fair argument. suddenly, a smirk etched at your lips as you began to calculate.. “alright. if i win, which i will, you have to act as my personal assistant for a month.”
seungcheol barked out a laugh, his eyes going wide in amusement, “personal assistant? for a month? what are you getting at?”
“you heard me,” you retorted. “you have to walk me to my class, carry around my books for me, and help me with all of my homeworks, meetings, and schedules.”
“seems a bit outlandish, but alright,” seungcheol snickered. “alright. if i win, which i will…” he paused. “you have to go to the yule ball with me.”
“what?!”
“you heard me,” seungcheol repeated after you, even going so far as to mimic your smirk. “you have to go to the yule ball with me. we have to wear coordinating outfits, we have to dance together, and take plenty of pictures. and you cannot try to sabotage our last ball at hogwarts.”
you scoffed, “there is no way i’m agreeing to that. not even in your wildest dreams.”
“fine, then you can forget all about your precious personal assistant.” 
you huffed. you would love nothing more than the chance to publicly humiliate seungcheol, to get him back for all the times that he had embarrassed you. the devious bastard needed some humbling. but.. what if things took a turn for the worst and he won? he was top of the class for a reason, and the universe seemed to have the cards stacked against you. was it really worth it, adding a bet onto a competition that had high stakes to begin with?
irene sent a knowing smirk in your direction just as you got to your feet, “give me a second to think about it.”
you grabbed irene’s hand, rushing to the supply shelves where the ingredients you had been neglecting were waiting. asphodel, wormwood, valerian root.. as you began to gather everything you needed in one hand, you turned to your best friend with a groan of annoyance, “can you believe that man? he’s incorrigible! insufferable!”
“yes, but who knows? he might end up surprising you and you could have a great time at the dance together,” she peered through the recipe in her own textbook, helping you gather the rest of the roots and broths. 
you snickered, “seungcheol? surprise me? i highly doubt that.”
she shook her head and took a much calmer approach, looking through the shelves and graciously handing you a fair amount of the ingredients that you weren’t able to find. “you deserve a night off, y/n. you’ve been focusing too much on your studies your entire time at hogwarts. you’ve barely had any time for extracurricular activities besides the slug club. just do this one thing and if it goes horribly.. then.. we’ll grab some of those prank snacks from zonko’s and ruin his life until the school year ends.”
you tilted your head in contemplation, “i would like to see his face covered in boils.. fine. but all this bet does is give me more incentive to win this competition. i will not be caught dead dancing with seungcheol.” 
“we’ll see about that,” seungcheol called to you from across the room. 
god, you couldn’t wait to wipe that insufferable smirk off his face. 
once slughorn had reset his rather eccentric hourglass to time the two of you and the rest of the class scooted to the back of the room, everything else seemed to disappear around you. you focused only on the recipe, measuring the broth without letting so much as an extra drop fall into your cauldron. 
then it was time for the sopophorous bean. you tried to cut it in half, as per the instructions, but it actually bounced out of your reach. you tried it again, but it yielded the same results. and then the third time, seungcheol had to duck his head to dodge it once it was sent flying across the room. what in the world? 
you refused to ask for slughorn’s help. you were the second highest ranking student in the class for a reason, after all. you’d gotten this far without asking him or snape any stupid questions. after reading over the instructions again, a particular passage stood out to you: you only needed the juices from the bean. 
exercising great caution and timidity, you attempted to crush the bean with the blade of your knife instead. and much to your pleasant surprise, it worked. the bean didn’t budge. you looked over to seungcheol as you began to pour the juices into your cauldron, immediately furrowing your eyebrows, “how are you already two steps ahead of me??” 
the man looked up and continued to stir the broth clockwise, per the directions. it didn’t stop him from sending an arrogant smirk your way; you had to hand it to him, he was a great multitasker. “a magician never reveals his secrets. especially to the competition.”
you huffed; you didn’t need his help anyways. as you started to crush the thick root into a powder, you could have sworn you heard the clock from across the hallway ticking. uncomfortable silence rang through the air, save a few quiet mutters from fellow students and the boiling from the cauldrons. 
meanwhile, slughorn paced back and forth with his hands intertwined behind his back, studying the two of you carefully. there was a hopeful glint in his eyes, as if he wanted the both of you to succeed. between you and seungcheol, he couldn’t decide who his favorite student was. something told you that the results of this competition would finally give him his answer…
as you tossed the powder into the broth, a thick cloud of black smoke materialized in front of you, covering your face in the powder. the powder had shot straight out of the cauldron, as if rejected by the broth. your hand flew to your mouth as you fell into a fit of loud coughs, which unfortunately were not loud enough to muffle the sounds of your fellow students’ laughs.
just as you regained enough composure to wipe some of the soot out of your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of seungcheol trying to hide a snicker while stirring the broth in the other direction. shit. he was already on the last step. he chortled once he took notice of your scowl, shaking his head, “it’s honestly a shame. i thought you were better at following instructions.”
“i’m doing exactly what the book says! you obviously have some sort of cheat sheet.” 
seungcheol furrowed his eyebrows in mock offense, holding up his textbook with his free hand. “hmm.. that’s curious because it looks like we have the same one. maybe you’ve just lost your touch.” before you could offer a rebuttal, however, seungcheol set the ladle down and waved towards your professor. oh no, oh no.. 
“ah, seungcheol! finished already?” you watched in horror as slughorn strode towards your opponent’s cauldron, fishing a leaf out of his pocket. “well, uh, here we are. moment of truth,” he snickered, holding his breath as his hand hovered over the cauldron. you looked back towards irene, who was watching everything play out in front of her with the smallest frown. 
and just like that, the tightening sensation in your chest loomed, causing you to clutch at the collar of your shirt. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the scene playing out in front of you, and of course, the dreaded feeling that your life was over simply because the tiny leaf dissolved into the broth. his broth. you had lost to seungcheol, your rival, your mortal enemy, once again. 
“merlin’s beard! it’s perfect!” once again, slughorn slowly began to clap his hands and lead the rest of the classroom in a rather loud chorus of applause. the only reason you joined in was because you were in plain view of slughorn and you didn’t want to risk appearing petty in front of him; however, you made no attempts to rid the look of disappointment on your features. 
you were so wrapped up in your dark blanket of self pity that you barely even noticed the older man pick the vial up from his desk and hand it to seungcheol. the look of pride on your professor’s face was too much for you to handle, seeing as how you felt it was entirely misplaced. it should have been you who won. you knew that textbook backwards and forwards, you took extra notes in class every single day, studying was your favorite pastime.. how in the hell did he win? 
“now, as promised, one tiny vial of felix felicis. use it well.” as the classroom erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, you vowed to yourself that you would find out exactly how he cheated.
—-------------------------
you could barely speak to anyone after admitting defeat the day before, including irene, fearing that they would bring up your epic failure. endless hours in the library were not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you considered it like your home away from the ravenclaw dormitory. luckily, your extra time alone did not meddle with your duties as ravenclaw prefect. not that it mattered; when news of your failure traveled amongst the rest of the house, you could have sworn they stopped taking you seriously. 
granted, it had barely been twenty four hours, but still. 
you were brushing up on some light reading, lost in theories of dragon and centaur evolutions when you heard a pile of books slam next to yours on the table. it echoed through the library, causing several nearby bystanders to lift their heads up with matching scowls. when you snapped your head to the left in order to get a better look at the culprit, you instinctively rolled your eyes.
“what? i thought you would be a little happier to see a champion,” seungcheol chuckled in a hushed tone, taking the seat next to you. “oh, and your date to the yule ball.”
“can you keep your voice down? i don’t want anyone to hear i’m going with you of all people.”
seungcheol dramatically pressed a hand to his chest, “oh. that cuts deep, y/n. but i’m afraid people are going to find out eventually. you know, during the prefects’ dance, for example.”
“what?!” you exclaimed, only to be rudely shushed by several of the library attendees. taking a few precautionary looks over your shoulder, you whispered, “you never said anything about a prefects’ dance.”
“that was because i thought you already knew,” seuncheol replied conceitedly. “unless.. oh.. you weren’t planning on going to the yule ball at all, were you?”   
you tilted your head, “i know exactly what you’re implying..”
“implying? i’m not implying any-”
“and i could easily have gotten another date to the ball if it weren’t for you,” you lied. unless you had some sort of secret admirer, you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that you would have been asked to the ball. you were planning on using the extra alone time in the ravenclaw common room to your advantage anyways; there was much more space in there for studying. “i just don’t have any time for such trivial pursuits.”
“i wouldn’t call social interaction or international magical cooperation trivial pursuits,” seungcheol retorted.  
you slammed your book shut and tossed it into your book bag. “was there a reason you decided to come in here and bother me? besides attempting to get me kicked out of the library?”
“ohh, right,” seungcheol whispered with a mischievous grin. “i forgot to mention one other thing. as prefects, we’re supposed to help plan the event. decorate the great hall, hire the musicians, the works.”
if you didn’t respect the sacred space of the library, you would have screamed your protests at him. of course he planned this out to the number. he didn’t have a partner to assist him in his party planning tasks and he needed another chance to publicly humiliate you. so in order to kill two birds with one stone, he asked you to be his date. since you were a prefect, now that your attendance was confirmed, you had no other choice but to participate in the planning. 
“you slippery snake,” you hissed.
“oh? look what we have here, the high and mighty y/n l/n, picking and choosing which responsibilities she gets to take seriously.” 
“this is a new low, even for you. i can’t believe you would trick me into doing your stupid party planning for you.”
he chuckled, “oh no, no, no. i’m not making you do all of it for me, you have my word. i’ll be with you every step of the way.” you cringed; for some reason, that sounded worse than leaving you to do his chores for him. “now we better get a move on, darling, or we’ll be late.”
seungcheol led you eagerly to the great hall where yeji and seungkwan were waiting. the two of them were head girl and boy of the slytherin and hufflepuff houses, respectively, and had already begun preparations for the ball. when you took note of how eager seungkwan was to take leadership and oversee all of the preparations, you began to wonder why he wasn’t sorted into the gryffindor house. 
of course, yeji knew that he was simply a placeholder until the real self proclaimed leader would show his face. you witnessed a complete shift in her demeanor in real time, an annoyed frown shifting into an inviting smirk the moment she saw the two of you walk to the hufflepuff table. “ah, there you are, cheol. i was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”
“i don’t take my position as head boy lightly, unlike some people,” he tilted his head towards you, earning a dirty look. yeji simply held an amused smirk as her gaze shifted from seungcheol to you, a knowing look in her eyes.
seungkwan, however, looked like he had seen a ghost. or a hologram. to be honest, anything else was more believable than you being willing to have anything to do with the yule ball. “y/n! i thought you weren’t coming.”
“i thought so too,” you sighed. “but-”
“she changed her mind,” seungcheol cut in with the shameless lie, much to your surprise. “we both thought it would be a good idea if a head boy and a head girl went to the ball together. especially since its our last year at hogwarts and we didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity.”
yeji made no attempt to disguise her confusion- seungcheol could easily get any other girl to go to the ball with him. so why would he ask you? and why would you say yes? the two of you had a very public and long lasting rivalry; it seemed odd that the two of you were able to make amends so quickly. “seems like the two of you finally made up,” she cooed, folding her arms across her chest.   
“yeah, for the most part,” seungkwan laughed, pointing out the look of annoyance etched across your features. 
seungcheol barked out a laugh, “we’re both more than capable of keeping things civil. we figured that out for ourselves just the other day, didn’t we, darling?”
it took a great deal of willpower for you to hold back a groan of annoyance. “we’re wasting time. we should probably get started on the decorating now.”
“right,” seungkwan snickered, gesturing to several large boxes cluttering and even surrounding the table. “filch brought everything from the dungeon up here. personally, i think that we should go for a winter wonderland theme. white, grays, light blues..”
“sounds good.” yeji was quick to agree. you would have been surprised, but something told you that she was only agreeing with him so this meeting would go by much quicker. not that you blamed her..
“i agree,” seungcheol chimed in. “yeji and seungkwan, why don’t you work on fixing up the right side of the hall. we’ll focus on the left.”
as the two of them nodded and followed seungcheol’s direction, you could hear seungkwan immediately lecturing yeji on how to carry out his vision with precision and intent. meanwhile, the young man at your side smirked with infuriating amusement as he studied you carefully. as a response you turned towards him with a huff, “let’s just get this over with.”
he chuckled, “i admire your enthusiasm. we’ll need it, considering the ball’s less than a week away.”
great. more good news. 
—--------------------
as preparations for the yule ball were under wing, you actually found yourself horrifically overwhelmed for the first time during your attendance at hogwarts. if you weren’t studying, you were figuring out with the others which bands would play at the ball. if you weren’t monitoring the common room with the other prefects, you were organizing the tables, chairs, and centerpieces. and if you weren’t with irene, the only other person who seemed to bring you a sense of comfort during a time when your anxiety was at its peak, you were with seungcheol, who seemed to gift your anxiety to you.
this stupid ball was taking over your entire life. even with a total of twenty four students carefully planning the evening, it seemed to take an eternity for all of you to come to any semblance of an agreement. day by day you were filled with endless disappointment and dread. worst of all, you couldn’t figure out how you ended up in this situation; there seemed to be no explanation as to how seungcheol went about cheating in your little showdown. you learned that slughorn cast a protection spell against cheating in his classroom, so he couldn’t have muttered anything under his breath. he couldn’t have tampered with your spellbook; the recipe in yours was the same as irene’s. 
through all of the formulas, the lectures on runes and the arguments with seungkwan and yeji about tacky balloons and garlands, the one question that bothered you the most was how in the hell gryffindor’s beloved, corrupt champion managed to cheat. it plagued your mind even as you and seungcheol began to set up one of the three giant, towering christmas trees in the great hall. 
“don’t you love this time of year?” he asked, startling you out of your daze.
you furrowed your eyebrows, finding his attempts at making friendly conversation rather pathetic. you shrugged. “i guess.”
“it’s usually not my favorite, since it can be a pain in the ass to fly a broom around in this type of weather,” he chuckled, gently waving his wand to direct silver ornaments onto the tree. “but i don’t know. something about this year feels special.”
you paused your own enchantments in contemplation, letting a tiny string of garland settle comfortably against the pine tree’s branches. you were using the same spell as seungcheol, hoping to finish the decorations as quickly as possible to put this long day to an end. “maybe this being our last year in the castle has something to do with it?” 
although your statement came out sounding much more sarcastic than you intended, your words came from a place of genuine belief. until that moment, it felt like you had been in denial that you were about to leave the castle forever. go into the real world. 
seungcheol seemed pleasantly surprised that you were making conversation with him, even if your response was somewhat harsh. he chuckled, “i guess so. but.. i don’t know. something’s different. in a good way.” 
“hopefully you figure out what it is before the school year ends,” you chuckled. 
seungcheol only nodded before lifting the last few ornaments onto his side of the tree with a mere wave of his wand and then the two of you stepped back to admire your work. it looked beautiful, the silver and dark blue ornaments glowing in the candlelight. but you knew it would look even better on the night of the ball; seungkwan would be casting an enchantment to make the entire hall look like a real winter wonderland. “i think we’re at a good enough place to call it a day, don’t you?”
you sighed in relief and threw your book bag over your shoulder. “thank god.”
he called to you before you could turn your back on him, “hey, wait a minute-”
you sighed and reluctantly turned around to face him, tilting your head to the side. “what?”
something strange happened to seungcheol. for the tiniest moment, a mere millisecond, if anything, he appeared flustered. at a loss for words, as if he was surprised that you were giving him the time of day. “shouldn’t we go shopping for some dress robes together?”
you made no attempt to disguise your annoyance, clenching your jaw. “what, so you can pick out one of those horrendous, poofy dresses that makes me look like a pastry? i think i’ll go by myself, thanks.”
he laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “no, trust me. i wouldn’t do that to anyone, not even you.”
“even so, i don’t feel like going dress shopping with you.”
“and why’s that?” he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. something about that.. punchable look on his face served as a reminder that you really had no reason to decline his invitation. by some miracle, the two of you had been able to keep it civil for this long. plus, if the two of you had to coordinate outfits (as per seungcheol’s terms and conditions), it would be much easier to do that in person. 
with all of those sentiments in mind, you sighed in defeat. “fine. let me grab my robes.”
the two of you threw your large, black cloaks over your figures before stepping outside in the real winter wonderland. they did nothing to keep the chilling winds from nipping at your noses and causing the tips of your fingers to freeze. pushing past the flurries of snow and following the magically shoveled pathway, the two of you made your way to the nearest costume parlor. 
the moment you stepped inside with your sworn enemy, the reality of the situation hit you. any other girl who was ‘lucky’ enough to be invited to the ball by him would have loved the experience of shopping for coordinating outfits with him. more notably, if you were invited by someone, anyone else, you most likely would have been trying to tone down your excitement. 
and yet here you were, staring at the rows and piles of dresses, tunics, and cloaks in dread. of course, he seemed to notice it, moving a hand to pat your back with a stupid grin. “so.. what’s your favorite color?”
you held yourself back from letting out a huff of annoyance, “green.”
“green..” he cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger, acting as if he was in an state of contemplation. “well, i suppose it's not really in season, but we can make it work. follow me.”
your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head as he grabbed onto your hand, dragging you to a row of dresses. it was oddly satisfying, the way the dresses were arranged in a pattern that made the fabrics seemed to fade from key lime to emerald. and they had a lot of options, the rack suffering from the impact of the hangers. 
you would have expected nothing less from seungcheol if not to display the first dress with the ugliest shade of asparagus green splashed upon the fabrics. “i think this would look gorgeous on you,” he whispered to you in a sentimental tone, his shit eating smirk giving his true intentions away.
“i’m not wearing that, its ghastly.” you snatched the dress from him, putting it back in its assigned place on the rack. “shouldn’t we focus on darker colors, anyways? since those are what’s ‘in season?’” you made sure to add air quotes when using his words, a smug smirk of your own tugging at your lips.
seungcheol’s smile seemed to be one laced with pride, as if he was pleased to see you catching onto his behaviors and mirroring them. “i like where your head’s at. come along...” 
you let him grab your hand again before leading you to a nearby aisle, where dresses with much darker shades of blue and green were stuffed haphazardly onto the racks and shelves surrounding you. “see, this is what i meant when i said i liked green,” you told him as-a-matter-of-factly as you held up a long, modest emerald green dress with gauntlet sleeves that would hook over your middle fingers. 
he stretched out his hand to brush along the skirts of your personal favorite selection, tilting his head as if he was carefully studying the fabric. his gaze shifted from the elegant dress to you, as if he was imagining you in it. “i think i should let you pick the outfits from here on out. you’ve got an eye for color theory.”
you folded the dress over your arm with a dry chuckle, “you should have learned that during our committee meetings together. who was it who organized all of the centerpieces?”
“right. i never got to tell you about how well they match the tablecloths.”
“because someone wishes they had half the natural talent for interior design that i possess.” you imitated his trademarked smirk to the best of your ability, tilting your head to the side once it appeared as if the man in front of you was at a loss for words. “we’re going with this one.”
“don’t let it go to your head just yet. we’ve still got to find something for me to wear.”
“and i have just the thing.” this time it was your turn to grab onto his hand, pulling him towards the men’s section. your eyes scanned through the shelves in front of you until they landed on the ugliest thing you could find in that shop: a large, fluffy collar that was adorned by feathers and a large broach in the middle. “i think it matches your eyes perfectly.”
“you cannot be serious,” he deadpanned.
“hey, you were the one that said i’m picking the outfits from here on out. i think wearing it is the very least you could do, all things considered.” you couldn’t disguise the broadening smirk making its way upon your lips even if you wanted to. the look of disgust upon his features was just too good not to revel in. “what’s the matter, you don’t like it?”
he tilted his head up, pressing his lips to a thin line in a vain attempt to smile, “yeah. sure. it looks very eccentric. i think i’ve got just the cloak to match it.”
your eyes widened in a rather successful attempt to patronize the man in front of you. “do you really? i guess fate really does exist.” you stepped closer to fold the collar around his neck, admiring the look of disdain on his face as he made no effort to pull the hideous thing off of him. “see? i think it suits you so well. you could comb your hair back a little bit..” 
as if you completely forgot who you were talking to, you lifted your hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. seungcheol’s expression of disdain faded at the contact, a puzzled look quickly taking its place instead. your newfound proximity seemed to almost startle him, prompting you to take a step away from him and clear your throat. “let’s get out of here.”
“huh?” 
you shook your head, “we’ve got studying to do. i’m running behind thanks to this stupid ball.”
“you’ll get back on your feet, love,” he countered in a reassuring tone. “you always were an overachiever.” 
his words seemed to echo through your mind even as he walked with you up to the register and graciously paid for your dress without a second thought. you could barely even protest, still feeling rather puzzled. even if it wasn’t customary for a man to pay for his date’s dress, you could let it slide just this once. heaven knew he had the money for it. 
besides, it was the very least he could do, all things considered.     
—---------------
the night of the ball finally arrived. irene graciously allowed you to borrow some extra hairpins she had, tiny snowflakes encrusted with shining diamonds. they shone like tiny stars in the candlelight, only accentuating the emerald fabrics pooled around your figure. 
even so, you felt like a fish out of water among your peers who were dressed to the nines in silvers and deep blues.. you alway thought that beauty seemed to come so naturally to all of them. but not to you. never to you. even now, standing in front of the mirror, caked in makeup, hairspray and a dress you wouldn’t have been caught dead in any other day.. you didn’t feel special. 
irene seemed to sense your distress, just as she always did. it prompted you to wonder if your best friend had some sort of intuition, or if you were just terrible at hiding your emotions. as she stepped by your side and gazed at your reflection in the mirror, draping her arm around your waist, your frown only grew more prominent. she was by far the most beautiful girl in the common room. while you tried not to envy your best friend or place any blame on her, it was difficult putting those sentiments into practice when you got a full look of her light blue dress and gorgeous icy features.
you bowed your head with a sigh. as her eyes followed your gaze in the mirror, she lifted a hand to cup your chin so you would look in the reflective glass again. “chin up. you look beautiful.”
“i don’t feel beautiful.” you sighed, gazing at your reflections with a forlorn sigh. you wondered how she couldn’t see the stark difference between the two of you. 
she moved a hand to brush some hair out of your eyes, offering you a gentle smile. “i promise you- you look absolutely gorgeous. you’ll be the belle of the ball, i’m sure.”
the two of you chuckled as she linked her arms around your waist, smiling at the sight of your reflection. at the sight of a tiny, somewhat reluctant smile slowly starting to surface. “let’s just hope midnight approaches quickly.”
she only chuckled and held on tightly to your hand as she slowly led you out of the dressing room and down the stairs. you could hear the gentle, slow jazz band that yeji and seungkwan had argued about for days beginning to play. their music grew louder and louder with every step down the stairs you took, but the wild heartbeat in your chest seemed to clash terribly with the rhythm of the instruments. it all felt so.. unconventional. and yet, you couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason as to why you were so nervous. 
irene’s date, kai was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. you noticed the change in his demeanor in real time, noting how his previously dull eyes widened the moment he saw her making her way towards him. strangely enough, a pang of jealousy surfaced in your chest once she left your side and you immediately missed her warmth. your hand felt empty and cold as she waved goodbye and mouthed a ‘good luck’ to you before joining kai in the great hall.
seungcheol was nowhere to be found near the base of the staircase. before you could assume the worst about him (and mentally kick yourself for ever giving your sworn enemy the benefit of the doubt), you tried to remain neutral as you walked in the great hall alone. 
your eyes widened as you took note of your surroundings- it went without saying that seungkwan had mastered the winter wonderland enchantment. fake snow fell from the star studded ceiling, disappearing before it could fall on any of the students. it fell upon the branches of the large christmas trees and stuck to the walls, icicles hung from the pillars, snowflakes shone in the candlelight and yet there wasn’t even the slightest chill in the air.
there was a large circle around an empty space in the hallway, which you assumed was the dance floor. there was no doubt in your mind that the prefects’ dance would be starting soon, which was why panic began to set in once your eyes scanned through the crowds of students surrounding you. your date was nowhere to be found. of course he had stood you up. you wouldn’t have put it past him to leave you stranded near the dance floor, looking like an idiot. 
just as you turned on your heel, planning to make a quick getaway before anyone could notice you standing there awkwardly, your body went stiff as you bumped into a man standing directly behind you. the first thing you noticed was the familiar broach surrounded by small, white feathers.. “wow, you actually came,” you muttered.
“i could say the same about you.” tonight, there was something almost..endearing about his smirk. maybe it was because he had taken your advice and combed some of his hair back. maybe because his tone lacked that familiar condescending air. or maybe because.. the twinkling lights suspended in the air made his dark eyes shine brighter than usual. “we better get a move on, darling, the others don’t like to be kept waiting.”
just as you nodded, you felt him rest a hand over your arm in favor of leading you through the crowd of students and onto the empty part of the floor. yeji and seungkwan were the first of the twenty two other prefects that you noticed, paired with taeyong and nayeon, respectively. it felt like the rest of them were just waiting for the two of you, watching you and seungcheol walk towards the center of the hall like merlin and guendoloena themselves had graced the student body with their presence. It was horrifying. 
obviously, you’d forgotten to make an efforts to disguise your embarrassment because when seungcheol faced you, he frowned. surprise washed over your features; you thought he would make fun of you or gloat but there seemed to be the smallest hint of sympathy in his eyes. it was almost.. off putting. like he was hiding something. “what’s the matter?” he finally asked.
“nothing.” you were quick to whisper to him. 
“hey-” just as seungcheol curled an arm around your waist to reel you in closer to him, his tone grew hushed. “you don’t have to be nervous. just follow my lead.”
“i’m not-” once you quickly came to the realization that this was neither the time nor the place to argue, you swallowed your pride and timidly draped your arm around his broad shoulders. once his hand was laced with yours, you realized this was the closest you’ve ever been to him, your chests nearly touching, and you weren’t even repulsed by him. in fact, you made eye contact with him for much longer than you ever thought you were capable. “thanks.”
seungcheol nodded in acknowledgement as the band in the corner of the room began to play a beautiful, soothing waltz. he took the lead, starting out with a basic box step waltz and waiting until you got a hang of the pattern before starting to turn counter clockwise like the rest of the couples. he kept a firm but gentle hold on your waist, his hand squeezing yours in reassurance as you found yourself scooting closer to him. “see? as always, you’re learning quickly.”
you hated to admit it, but such an unexpected compliment from seungcheol, of all people, prompted your heart to skip a beat. you pushed the unfamiliar sensation away to the best of your ability. “and you’re a pretty decent teacher. who would’ve thought?” you chuckled.
“well.. maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.” he chuckled, affection laced within the quiet laugh. “i will say, though, i expected you to step on my toes at least once or twice.”
“there’s still plenty of time for that,” you mused, a smirk tugging at your lips as your gaze flicked down to your feet. he must have purchased brand new dress shoes for the occasion; the patent leather shone almost like a diamond in the limelight. for some reason, you didn’t want to risk scuffing them.
“i suppose,” he shrugged before looking just past your shoulder in quiet contemplation. he wasn’t fixed on any certain point behind you, but his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was studying the fabric of your sleeves carefully before meeting your eyes again. “but would it be so terrible if we got along? just this once?” 
the shift in his demeanor brought a small sense of uneasiness to your chest until he spoke again. hoping to ease the tension growing in your heart, you snickered, “why? you don’t want me to ruin your brand new shoes?”
he hated how your words brought a tenacious grin to his lips, one that he couldn’t get rid of even if he wanted to. and you hated how you found it so endearing, especially when your eyes fixed on the dimples in his cheeks that you never seemed to notice until now. “something like that.” he muttered.
as if he couldn’t get through the dance without embarrassing you just one time, he pulled back from your embrace to spin you under his arm. after you completed the circle he kept both hands on your back, leading you into a less than graceful dip. you stumbled a tiny bit in his tight and affirming grip and held onto his upper arm for that much needed security. before you could bring yourself to curse him out, you let your eyes find his. instead of that infuriating look he had when he knew he’d successfully gotten under your skin, there was a certain warmth hidden in his irises. 
it was confusing.. almost more infuriating. especially considering the heat that rose upon your cheeks when you’d gazed upon his features long enough. 
and then he carefully pulled you back into a standing position and the fuzzy feeling in your head was gone. for the time being, at least. you had kept your arm draped around his broad shoulders, expecting the music to continue. but the students in the crowd began to clap as the rest of the prefects broke away from their partners and you suddenly felt like you’d been in the embrace for much too long. maybe you were overthinking it, maybe you weren’t. 
you let both arms fall by your sides as you took a single step backwards. your date could only chuckle in amusement, “glad that we finally got that over with?” he waved a hand dismissively just as you parted your lips to defend yourself. “come on. i think we could both use a drink.”
much to your own surprise, you let him take your hand in his and lead you to the refreshment table. seungkwan and nayeon beat you to the punch (both literally and figuratively, as seungkwan was already pouring a glass for the two of them), the lovely couple beaming the moment they saw you from across the table. 
“oh, hey guys!” seungkwan was the first to greet the two of you with a large smile. “you guys looked really good out on the dance floor. for a second, i was worried you were gonna steal all the attention away from me and nayeon.”
nayeon laughed before you could even conjure a witty response, “oh seungkwan. it's their last year here, i think they should enjoy their time in the spotlight while they still can.”
thankfully, seungcheol intervened before you could. “please. there’s plenty of time for us to enjoy our respective places in the spotlight when i’m a world renowned quidditch player and y/n’s the most successful auror in the ministry.” 
seungkwan’s eyes went wide. “wait- you mean the holyhead harpies..accepted you?”
just like magic, that all too familiar smirk materialized upon seungcheol’s lips just before he took a sip from his glass of punch rather than providing the three of you with a direct answer. however, it proved to be more than a satisfactory response. the couple in front of you broke out into applause with wide beams and quiet giggles. you, however, stood speechlessly in place.
for until that moment, you’d forgotten all about the potion.. 
“that’s amazing news!” nayeon almost shrieked. “we should celebrate.”
“maybe some other time. we better let him celebrate with his date first,” seungkwan reasoned while sending a knowing smirk in your direction. before too long, the four of you were exchanging goodbyes and more congratulations until only you and seungcheol stood near the table. of course, you weren’t sure how to approach the subject of felix felicis, so the two of you were forced to revel in the awkward silence for a good minute or two. 
that was, until seungcheol decided he had had enough. he brought a hand to your lower back, tilting his head towards the nearest exit. “come on. let’s go get some fresh air.”
once greeted by the chilly december air, you found yourself tugging your wrap closer to your chest. judging by the fresh layer of snow upon the balcony, it had just barely finished snowing for the time being. although he’d removed his hand from your waist, he stayed in close proximity to you, your shoulders barely brushing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. the two of you took a deep breath in alarming synchronization, releasing a visible sigh afterwards. 
you watched carefully as the small cloud disappeared in front of you before turning to him. “so.. you made the team.”
seungcheol nodded with confidence, but something told you that he had no intention of rubbing his victories in your face. “that’s right,” he replied quietly.
once again, you weren’t sure how to approach the nagging question in your mind- you had no intention of asking if he used the felix felicis to cheat at tryouts, guaranteeing him a spot on the team. you pondered on the correct delivery for just a moment too long, your eyebrows slowly knitting together as your lips parted. “how..”
seungcheol mocked an expression of offense before quietly replying, “pure talent. nothing else.”
“you mean..”
the man in front of you pressed his pouty lips to a thin line before reaching in his inner pocket. your eyes widened as the small vial he pulled out shone in the moonlight. clearly, seungcheol hadn’t used a single drop of the potion yet. you looked in his eyes, only to see the smallest glint of hurt. “do you really think so little of me?” he asked you timidly.
it would have been a knee jerk reaction to tell him yes, to tell him that he got on your nerves and seemed to be hellbent on embarrassing you at every chance he could get. that you thought he was a pompous asshole and thought too highly of himself. but when you reflected on the time you spent together, you realized.. seungcheol was just like any other student that went to this school. 
he had ambitions. he had goals. he had drive. not only that, but he had interests outside the academic field. for example, he loved christmas. winter was his favorite season. he loved strawberry punch. he had a handful of likes and dislikes. in that sense, he was just like any other student that roamed through the halls of hogwarts, trying to make a name for themselves. in that sense, he was just like you. 
and you felt horrible for ever accusing him of cheating.
with those sentiments in mind, you shook your head slowly. “no. no i guess i don’t.”
before he turned towards the balcony again, you were able to catch the smallest glance at of his smile, faint as it was. it seemed as if he saw no need for keeping up appearances, considering the two of you were finally alone. he brushed the thin layer of snow off the railing before crossing his arms over the concrete. “i can’t believe in just a few more months.. all of this will be over.”
you mirrored his actions, keeping close to him as you peered down the balcony. carriages pulled by invisible steeds were parked near the entrance of the palace, covered in thick sheets of snow. “i know. can’t believe you’ll have to find someone on the harpies to torment everyday.”
he snickered loudly, “but what about you? hopefully you’ll meet another auror who’ll keep that fire in you burning on.”
“i don’t think anyone will keep that fire in me like you do, seungcheol,” you confessed, looking over to him with a smirk of your own. it was all you could do to downplay the severity of the confession. “i’ve never met someone so infuriating yet so.. captivating as you. and i don’t think i will for a long time.”
you could have sworn you noticed seungcheol’s ears turn red once the bold confession hung in the air between the two of you. had you brought it up, however, he would have quickly excused the display of bashfulness by blaming it on the cold weather. “in that case.. i’m glad that we were able to do all of this.. the planning, the dancing.. even if it meant you had to lose to me one last time.”
you laughed and shook your head fondly, “you just had to ruin a decent moment between us, didn’t you?”
although a deep chuckle from the man in front of you soon followed your display of annoyance, nothing could have prepared you for seungcheol’s quiet response: “well, let me make it up to you.”
even if you could find the right words to ask him exactly what that would entail, you couldn’t seem to make a sound. your lips were parted as he turned to face you fully, moving a cold hand to cup your cheek. his touch was much more delicate than you could have ever expected from him, a sense of timidity within his demeanor. as if he was waiting for you to push him away.. but you didn’t. even if you wanted to, your gaze on his pursed lips kept you from paying any mind to your surroundings, the snowflakes beginning to materialize, the muffled music, the flickering of the enchanted lanterns…
the next few seconds that followed were a blur. you leaned in to meet him halfway, your lips finally meeting. the kiss was deep, slow, as if the two of you were savoring a moment you’ve waited for far too long to come. he kissed your lips with such gentle deliberation that you wondered how long he really had been wanting this. of course, you could do nothing but return the kiss with equal eagerness as you moved your hand to his other cheek. there was a soft exhale through his nose, which fanned lightly over your skin before he pulled away.
the two of you stayed silent for a moment, relishing the beautiful moment in all of its remaining glory. never in a million years did either of you expect something like a bet would result in such a wonderful night. a wonderful night filled with contemplations and observations you previously would never have entertained. 
and yet, even after such a truly mind numbing moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking him, “seungcheol.. what are you going to do with felix..?”
this time, it was his turn to shake his head fondly. “you just had to ruin a decent moment between us, didn’t you?” the chuckle that followed his repetition of your own words was much too endearing, causing that heated sensation in your cheeks to materialize yet again. “but to answer your question, i’m.. not sure. i guess i’ll cross that bridge when i get to it.
“or.. i could always give it to you.”
“no,” you immediately refused with a shake of your head. ”as much as it.. pains me to say it: you earned it, fair and square. besides… i learned from someone tonight that real achievements aren’t made with lucky charms. and even if i don’t become an auror.. i’m more than capable of doing something else with my time.” 
seungcheol bowed his head with a grin. “whoever he is.. sounds really wise.”
“he is,” you chuckled, moving your hand to lace your fingers with his once again. there was a warmth in his palm, one that you sought for as you squeezed his hand. “he’s.. insufferable and pompous the majority of the time. but incredibly smart and driven the rest of the time.”
his gaze remained fixed on your intertwined hands for a moment before his eyes met yours again. “you finally see your worth,” he whispered to you, almost incredulously. “believe me, y/n, i’ve known you to be more than capable of accomplishing anything you set your mind to since the day we met.”
feeling unsure of how else to express your gratitude, you placed another gentle kiss upon his lips. savoring the feeling, the taste.. since you knew it was only a matter of time until the two of you would part ways as nothing more than pupils. still, as the two of you spent the rest of the enchanted night dancing, laughing, and talking each others’ ears off, you and seungcheol hoped that this night wouldn’t be the end of your precious time together.
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sparklingblu · 4 months
Text
Eroverse
Pt.4 - O, Death
Lisa & Shuhua x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)
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You can't stop screaming.
Even when you were a kid, you have never been a big fan of slides. They make you want to puke. Seems like it still haven't changed because as you spiral down this endless glowing tunnel of light, you can feel your lunch trying to escape from your stomach. Further worse, the tunnel twists and turns at every few seconds so your body get tossed around like a volley ball. Thankfully, the walls aren't solid. They feel more like trampolines, catching and tossing you each time you make contact.
Kazuha is a completely different case though. She has her eyes closed and looks almost peaceful, like this is just a regular occurence to her. She has her arms wrap around her knees, her hair floating upward from the fall.
You have no idea where you are headed to. Sure, Kazuha has saved you from the ruins of the city but who can say she doesn't want to kill you either? Maybe she has just let Yeji suffer so that she can take her time killing you. What if she's leading you to an even worse place?
And the mysterious 'He' all these idols keep talking about. The one who has given you the strength to defeat Eunbi. The one Yeji hates so much. From what Kazuha had said, they seem to serve him. Is he also an idol replica? The leader of all those clones?
Your thoughts are cut short when the tunnel turns steeper and your body rolls a three-sixty degree. A few more seconds of this and you are gonna be rolling in your own vomit. If it's even possible, the tunnel is glowing brighter. Perhaps, a sign of nearing the journey's end. You close your eyes because you don't want to see black spots for the rest of your life.
The last thought enters your mind. The upside down pentagram that has filled you with strength. The mark, Kazuha and Yeji had called it. And your cock that can now be used as a subsitute flashlight. Not really a good idea.
The lust you have felt is almost inhuman, like you can just use any female in your sight for your pleasure. It has been the only thing in your mind until the mark has disappeared. It makes you feel special yet afraid. You nearly lost your dick because Yeji wants the mark gone. There can be more people (or creatures) like her out there with the same intention. Is it a price worth paying?
Suddenly, your mind goes blank as the tunnel empties out into a wide opening.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
For once, you are not lying on a flat surface or tied up in a chair. The material beneath you feels soft almost cottony. You can just sink into it forever. You take a few deep breath to calm your churning stomach and when your heatbeat becomes normal, you sit up, opening your eyes.
You are not in the midst of an apocalypse or a boxing ring. A good sign. However, that doesn't make the scene around you any less unusual. You are in a penthouse suite, the kind of place only the richest of the rich could afford.
At your back, a smart TV playing the 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet takes up most of the wall which curves into a corridor that leads further in. On the pedestal near the tv sits a bust of a young girl with a laurel wreath on her head, the kind you see in museums. Facing the pedestal on the other side of the room is an island kitchen, painted pastel pink. Everything on the counter screams diabetes which includes jars of chocolates, sweets and lollipops. The air smell sickly sweet like decaying flowers. You won't be surprised if Willy Wonka walks in right now.
The walls are made entirely of glass, giving you the perfect view of New York city skyline. Then you blink and the scene shifts into the sandy dunes of Egypt with the pyramids. Another blink and you are staring at the lush green trees of the Amazon. Not the craziest thing after all the crazies you went through.
"Not on my couch, Kazuha! How many times do I have to tell you?"
Looking down, you find yourself seated in a couch that looks suspiciously like it's made of some sort of fur. Instinctively, you stand up. Whoever the owner is, they don't seem too happy with your arrival. Turning back, you see Kazuha emerge from the corridor, followed by the owner of the voice.
"Oh, you can just buy another one. It's not like this is your first"
"This is a limited edition!"
The guy behind Kazuha gives you a forced smile like he's trying so hard not to get mad. He looks no older than 25 with wavy blonde hair and a drowsy expression on his face. He also has a bathrobe wrapped around his body so it looks like he has fallen asleep in the bath tub. Walking to the kitchen counter, he plops a candy into his mouth from one of the jars.
"Welcome, Michael" He bites down on the candy with a loud crunch. "Or should I say chosen one? "
For some reason, his voice sounds strangely familiar.
"You summon me here?" You ask.
"You can say that. It wasn't my initial plan though. But well, I can't complain" He shrugs.
"Who are you?" Not the most important question but the first one that comes to your mind.
"Questions immediately huh? Can't blame you though I have kept you in the dark for so long" He unwraps a chocolate bar and takes a bite. You don't want to be this dude's teeth.
"Wait, are you the one...?" You suddenly realize why he sounds so familiar. It's the voice that has appeared in your first two quests.
"Eh eh eh" He raises a hand to cut off your words. "I like to introduce myself in a bit of a mysterious way"
"Why can't you just tell me your name? And I still have a lot of questions left"
"Patience, Michael" He chomps down another large piece of chocolate. "I will explain everything to you, trust me"
"Ok, go on?"
"Well, I'm quite the famous one. You see me at least once a year. Actually, all you humans have some kind of connection to me"
If he's a celebrity, you are pretty sure you haven't seen him before. And all you humans? To you, he looks very human so it would be quite hard to believe if he's something else.
"No idea"
"Oh, come on" The guy scowls, wiping off the chocolate around his mouth. "Think again. There's even a song about me"
You think as hard as you could but nothing comes to your mind.
"Still no idea"
"Dude, I expect you to be smarter than this. Look around you, this room is already giving me away"
He's definitely not Willy Wonka but there's nothing else you can associate with this fancy expensive room.
"Can't you just tell me the answer already?"
"Listen to me" He clears his throat and starts singing. "I gave a second chance to Cupid. But now I'm left here feelin' stupid"
You quickly cut him off because if you hear one more second of his god awful voice, your ears are gonna start bleeding.
"Cupid? You are Cupid?"
The guy grins contentedly. "The greeks called me that but I prefer my roman name 'Eros' "
When you hear the word Cupid, all it comes to your mind is the image of a winged baby in a diaper holding a bow and an arrow that you see in Valentines day decorations. Certainly not some sweet toothed blonde.
"You don't look like him"
"Like a baby in a diaper? Oh, please" He grimaces. "If I meet the guy who starts that idea, I'm gonna strangle him with my bare hands"
You still have a hard time believing this dude is the god of love but you decides to go with the flow.
"The one who sends me on all those quests, that's you?"
"Absolutely. It takes quite a while but finally, here you are"
"I don't understand"
Eros pours water into his mouth from a jar. You feel bad for his dates.
"For a long time, I have been searching for the owner of the mark"
"That mark on my-?"
"Yes, the one on your pelvis. You possess the mark of Asmodeus"
"Ass what?"
"Asmodeus" He corrects. "Only a single person is chosen by the mark every few millenniums. Today, it made its first appearance"
"So I'm special or something?"
"You are far beyond special, Michael. You have the power to....what do you humans call it again? fuck any being in this whole universe"
"In english please?"
"Let me ask you something, do you believe in gods?"
His question leaves you baffled. You are not a regular church member or the type who prays before sleeping. The only times you remember god are the times you scream 'Oh my god' when you slip and fall.
"I have never given much thought to the subject"
"Let me ask you a different question then, what do you think gods look like?"
"I don't know. In white robes and long moustaches?"
Eros chuckles. "Ehh they still depict us like that. Actually, no. Look at me, I'm a god. What do I look like?"
"A human?" An obvious answer yet it sounds stupid.
"Correct" Eros snaps his fingers. "Gods take on the form of humans. Well, our branch of gods at least"
"Hold on" You stop him before your hair is set ablaze from all the new questions that have filled your brain. "Gods are real?"
"I'm here, aren't I?" Ero asks. "I know it's hard for you to believe but we are very much real"
You are still not convinced. For all you know, this guy could be some mentally ill millionaire who likes to cosplay gods.
"Oh, you need some proof, I see"
Eros snaps his fingers and suddenly, you are hovering above the ground. You want to scream but you can't. It's like someone have stolen your voice.
"Is it enough proof?"
You nod desperately and Eros snaps his fingers again, sending you sprawling on the hard floor. Trying not to groan from the pain, you stand up slowly.
"Ok, so you are a god. And I have the mark of Ass whatever. What about all those idols? They aren't real, are they?"
"Oh, far from it" Eros answer. "But they are the perfect replicas"
"You created them?"
"Oh, no. That's their own choice. And that takes us back to the old topic. What kind of human forms do you think gods take? Not everyone can be as handsome as me, right?"
You are not sure if he can be called handsome with his choice of fashion but you keep your mouth shut.
"Just....humans?"
Eros shakes his head. "You are not wrong but let me elaborate. Since the dawn of time, the gods have changed into many forms. Those bearded drawings you saw of us? They are our oldest forms. But as times change, we change too"
He chugs down more water from the jar, sending some spilling across his robe.
"We takes on the forms of the most famous figures through history. Cosplaying, like you humans say. It makes us feel perfect. Then when the 21st century comes, a great change happens"
Eros pauses for a moment just to raise your curiosity. Then he continues.
"The idols. No one have ever been as close to perfection as them. Sure, there are some remarkable ones like Helen and Cleopatra but they are nowhere near as perfect. All the goddesses went crazy, taking on the form of the ones they think are the most perfect"
"All the goddesses? What about the gods then?"
"Us males aren't much of a fan. We still like being Alexander or Tom Hanks, or just a random handsome guy like me"
"Then all those idols I met, they are goddesses?"
"Well, no" Eros contrasts. "Let's just say the others follow the trend. They wanted to cosplay too"
"The others?"
"The gods aren't the only beings that exist along with humans. Monsters, sorcerers, you name it. For the idols you met, they are cherubims, my servants"
"Cherubims? Like angels?"
"Sort of. Yes"
You don't know if you should be glad you have been fucking angels all those time. You hope it doesn't have any side effects.
"They don't seem too fond of me"
"Why do you think I created the 'Ero' app in the first place? It's a test. I send quests to all the possible candidates of the mark through the app. Most don't wake up after the jump, the rest face a worse fate. But you, you survive all of them"
"Thanks. I nearly get my dick cut off"
"That's not my fault. You see, for the quests, I create small dimensions and put a cherubim in each of them. I call those dimensions the 'Eroverses'. Pretty cool, right?"
You don't know how naming everything after your first three initials is cool but you are not gonna argue with a god.
"Most of my servants don't complain. But well, some rebels and Yeji, she gets mad at me. She destroyed one of the Eroverses and kidnaps you there. But it's all for the better because it awakens the mark"
"One last question, you lent me strength when I was with Eunbi. Why?"
"Let's just say you are very promising. I don't want you out of the game early"
Most of the questions you have had on your mind has been answered. However, it doesn't make you any less confused. You feel like a restricted area of a brain has been unlocked. An area that should have never been opened.
"So, the gods are real and they are idols and I have the mark of Ass whatever. Now what?"
"I have a proposal for you" Eros's tone has the slightest hint of slyness. "Be my apostle"
"Come again?"
Eros sighs. "You are pretty dumb for a writer"
"Hey, being a writer doesn't mean I know everything"
"Anyway, what I want to say is, work for me"
"No thanks, I don't want any more idols trying to kill me"
"Listen till the end. I can give you anything you have ever want. Sex? Money? Luxury? In return, you only need to vow your loyalty to me"
"And what exactly I need to do for you?"
"You have the mark. I want you to utilize it to do my biddings"
"I don't get it"
"Just consider it as more quests. Not as easy as the last ones though"
Is this guy joking? You were playing with your life all this time and he thinks it's easy. If he considers those quests easy, the next ones might be a thousand times worse.
"There's one condition though" Eros continues. "You have to stay here with me. You can no longer go back to your old life"
"And where exactly is here?"
Eros gestures towards the glass wall, beyond which now lies Venice with its canals and boats.
"Everywhere and nowhere" He explains. "Consider it an alive building, constantly shifting from one place to another. You know, I don't like beauty being confined in one form"
His explanation doesn't exactly answer your question but you focus on the more important matter. Eros's proposal sounds intriguing. You can stay here, work for him and acquire everything you have ever dream of. The downside is that you will always be on the brink of death. The reward is high and so is the risk.
Or you can say no and go back to being an ordinary unsuccessful writer. There's no downside here but no upside either. And you are not even sure he will send you back if you turn him down. That guy is looking at you like an exotic animal. So, you make the obvious choice.
"I'm in"
Eros looks like he's going to pass out with joy. "I know you would accept it. See, Kazuha? I told you"
Kazuha, who has been silent all this time simply shrugs.
"Glad you are happy"
Eros rub his hands, an ugly grin plastered on his face.
"Well, we will discuss about your quest tomorrow. For now, I want you to rest. Lisa?"
From the corridor, another idol emerges. Lisa, the member of blackpink. After seeing the way she's dressed, you instantly start to get hard again despite fucking Yeji's brains out just a while ago. Lisa's perky tits are covered by a metallic bra and her skirt isn't doing its work properly because it consists entirely of metallic beads that expose almost all of her round ass.
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"Yes, my lord?" Lisa asks, walking towards eros. You caught a glimpse of her trimmed pussy as the beads sway and dance.
"Take Michael to room 3" Eros orders. The jar of candy on the counter is nearly empty now. He should have been the god of diabetes, not love.
"Of course" Lisa gestures you to follow her and you oblige. However, your eyes are glued to her bare ass. If she has not been worldwide famous, you would have thought she's a stripper. Maybe this version of her is. You just want to reach out and grope that thai ass. It tempts and tempts you with each step she takes. But after finding out those idols are actually angels, you have become more thoughtful.
Lisa leads you through the corridor which soon opens up into a large circular hall with an enormous marble statue of Eros in the middle, a young man with two large wings sprouting from his back and the iconic grin on his face. You are starting to hate this guy even more.
"This way" Lisa walks towards one of the many doors that that line the walls of the hall. The number 3 is carved onto its wooden frame. She simply touches the door and arcs of light spread in all directions. The next moment, it's unlocked.
"This is the room you are gonna be staying in. If you need anything, there's a telephone on the desk. Just call 001"
"Alright"
Lisa bows and leaves, giving you one last view of her toned ass beneath the beaded skirt.
Your room is nothing less luxurious than the rest of the building, a suite with a seperate living room and a bedroom. It contains every possible items that can entertain the human's mind. It's oil and water compared to your old apartment.
As you enter the bedroom, your eyes are blessed by the view of the Victoria Falls beneath the dying sunlight through the glass walls. Why travel the world when you can do the same thing here?
The queen size bed is already beckoning you to crash out but you decide to take a shower first. You start reflecting on everything that have happened today as the cold droplets of water run down your body. In a day, you have went from a broke writer to an apostle of a god. You wonder if anyone will miss you after you disappear without a trace. Maybe Russell would. But he might just be the only one. You have always been a loner and it would be no surprise if no one notices your disappearance.
The important thing is you will be living the life you have always wanted. Just with a few catches. You instinctively touch your pelvis, remembering the mark. For now, it doesn't have any weird burning symbol. 'You have the ability to fuck any being in this whole universe' Eros has said. Now, you are not sure if it's a really useful ability. On second thought, invisibility or even flying would have been better.
However, you are too tired to be wrestling with your own incompetence because the exhaustion is starting to creep up your body slowly. As soon as you have changed, you throw yourself on the huge bed and fall asleep.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Your dreams aren't as comforting as your bed.
You are back in the ruins of the greek city, tied up to the chair and your pants pulled down. Both Eunbi and Yeji have surrounded you, a gladius in each of their hands. A smile creep up from the corner of Yeji's lips as she raises the sword.
"This time no one's gonna save you"
Eunbi follows suit, raising her sword and bringing it down to your mamba. No burning symobls appear. No Kazuha to save you. You are done for real this time. As the sharp edges land, you scream.
"What's wrong?"
A voice snaps you out of the nightmare. You gasp and open your eyes. Your whole body is drenched in sweat from the aftermath of the dream. As your heartbeat returns to normal, you start feeling a warm sensation in your lower body.
Looking down, you find your pants pulled down but not to cut your dick off this time. Lisa's face hover just a few inches from your morning wood, a string of drool connecting her lips and the head.
"Did I scare you?" she asks.
You shake your head. "No, just having a nightmare"
"Shall I get back to work then?"
"Sure"
Lisa immediately dive back on your cock, taking half of your length into her mouth in one swift motion. While she's bobbing up and down, her tongue assists by twirling around your leaking slit, collecting your precum.
She's still wearing the same outfit as last night and she has raised her ass, giving you the view of her toned buttocks beneath those beads. You still can't fulfill your goal to grope her ass but the way she blows you is enough to diverge your attention.
There's no doubt she has experince. It's evident from every single move that consist in this mind blowing work of hers. She makes sure that her lips trace every single throbbing vein, swallowing more of your cock with each bob. The gagging sound that accompany her movements do nothing except fuel the lust inside you. She would look up from time to time, her eyes asking you if she's doing a good job and you reply with moans and groans.
Just as you are thinking about closing your eyes, Lisa devours your whole length, taking it down her throat. Another groan escape your lips. There's no way you are going to miss the view of her nose pressed against your pelvis now. The idea of closing your eyes have been thrown out ofthe window.
She holds the position for a few more seconds before releasing your cock from her warm cavern with a loud 'pop'. With drool seeping down her lips, she looks like a vixen rather than an angel, a naughty one at that.
"Are you feeling good, daddy?"
Your cock twitches at the mention of your new name. You are amazed at the wonders a simple word could do to your body. Or either you are just being a hopeless pervert.
"Yes, very"
Lisa smiles at your compliment and reward you by taking you into her mouth again. This time, she makes sure your tip hit the back of her throat with each bob. Her saliva spills like a waterfall onto your bedsheet but that's the last thing you care about right now. Eros can pay for the housekeeping.
Just to get a change of sight, you turn your head to the window. The snow covered mountains and the cozy little houses of Greenland glitter under the rising sun. But they can't capture your attention for too long because glaciers aren't as captivating as the scene unfolding between your legs.
Lisa's pace remains unwavered, solely focused on using her oral hole as a tool for your release. She hold on to your thighs for support as she gobbles up your cock like a popsicle far more tastier than all those sweets Eros have. Her tonguework remains as impressive, licking up any part she could whenever your length exit her throat.
This might just be heaven, you thought. Getting head while you travel the world in a skyscrapper. You could put up with all those bullshits Eros is up to if you can stay like this forever. Even death starts to seem like a worthy risk.
Even with all the effort you are putting in to hold back, Lisa's blowjob is sending you to the point of no return with each passing second. The sight of your cock covered in her saliva and that raised ass of hers proven to be lethal as you stary feeling the tug in your stomach. As your cock throbs harder, you warn Lisa.
"Lisa, I'm gonna cum"
Lisa pulls you out of her mouth to speak, momentarily denying your release.
"Where do you want to cum, daddy? Into my mouth or on my pretty little face?" she asks as she strokes your cock just slow enough to hold back your flood gates from breaking open.
"Let me paint your face"
"Of course, daddy"
Lisa starts stroking your cock with both her hands, twisting and turning every single inch. Her drool acts as the perfect lube, smoothing out her movements. The coil inside you unravel and soon you are emptying your balls onto Lisa's face, jets after jets of cum landing on her face. Most of it make their way onto her nose. Some spread our across her cheeks and a few drops landing on her eyelids.
Lisa collect the genetic fluid with her fingers, sucking on each of them while her eyes bore into yours.
"Mhmm, it's so tasty" Lisa says as she licks up the last of your cum. "Thanks for the meal, daddy"
"Yeah, no problem"
Lisa stands up and stretches. It's hard to believe you just cummed because her stripper outfit is filling up your balls again with a new supply of semen.
"Daddy, you should clean up. Lord Eros is waiting for you"
"Sure. I will come"
Lisa bows and leaves, her hips swaying from side to side. You make a mental note to grope that ass at some point. You get out of the bed, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. You should use that jacuzzi when you don't have an appointment with the god of love. The wardrobe contains every luxury brand one can think of and they fits you perfectly. You decide to go simple with slim jeans and a shirt (Gucci, by the way) and head to the living room where Eros is waiting.
The music is the first thing to greet you. "My heart will go on" blasting at full volume. It's as if Eros can't help proving he is indeed the god of love. It's overkill in your opinion.
The song stops as soon as you enter and Eros turns to you, smiling over the straw of the juice cup he's drinking from. This morning, he's dressed in a toga which is too big for him that it's drapping and pooling around his legs. Seriously, this guy needs a fashion advisor.
"Morning, Michael!" Eros greets as he finishes up his morning dose of diabetes. "Did you sleep well?"
You remember the nightmare but you decide not to tell him. "Yeah, I'm fine"
"You must be hungry. Kazuha, bring him breakfast"
Kazuha walks from the kitchen counter, holding a tray. She's still wearing the same dress. Do angels even change?
"This is Eros's idea" Kazuha says as she hands you the tray and as soon as you take a look you understand what she means. A cup of coffee and a slice of chocolate cake which looks overbaked lies in the tray. Your name is spelled in whipped cream on the plate of watermelon slices. You instantly lost your appetite.
"Hey, it's cool, right?" Eros asks.
You have to hold back the urge to comment on his definition of cool. "Yeah, very cool"
"See, Kazuha? You should start appreciating my ideas more" Kazuha, who seems already used to this just remain silent at Eros's words.
"I will explain you about your quest while you eat" Eros gestures at the tray of food.
You takes a sip of the coffee, which seems like the best option. Surprisingly, it tastes just like normal coffee. Thank god Eros doesn't make it cool.
"I need you to steal an object" Eros unfolds his palms and a hologram of a corinthian helmet pops off, the kind the greeks wore in wars. It seems to be made of obsidian, cracks spreading across its black surface.
"This is the helm of Hades" Eros explains. "And I need you to retrieve it from the underworld"
Suddenly, the coffe tastes like lead.
"Underworld?" you ask. "Like hell?"
"Not entirely but yes" The hologram in Eros's palm grow larger, the helmet now the same size as the real one. "This helmet has the ability to turn its wearer invisible and possesed by Hades, the god of the underworld. Your task is simple. Enter his realm, get the helmet and get out"
The quest is anything but simple. Your last three quests have been based entierly on sex and even then, you have near death encounters. You survive this far because luck has been on your side. But stealing something a god owns is a totally different case. You don't even know how the mark can helps you here. You are sure flashing your cock at a male god wouldn't do the job. Even if it does, you want to throw up at the idea.
"Oh, not to worry. You won't meet him" Eros answers your thoughts. "He's away for business"
That's a relief. There's no way a mere mortal like you can go up against a god.
"But there's someone else you will meet" Eros tone turns malicious. He looks almost happy. "You have to go through his wife, Persephone"
"Pussy what?"
"Michael, can you not misehear things with certain body parts for once?" Eros sighs. "Persephone, the goddess of vegetation. The queen of the underworld"
The goddess of vegetation sounds a lot less scary than god of the underworld. But still,a god is a god.
"So, what do I do?"
Eros unclasps his palm and the hologram disappears. "Hades keep his helm in a safe, which can only be unlocked by a spoken password. Apart from him, only his wife knows it"
"I doubt I can charm her into telling me"
"Then fuck the answer out of her!" Eros says it like its something so obvious. "Use the mark!"
"How? I don't even know how to activate it. It takes someone trying to end my bloodline to activate it the last time"
"That's a matter you have to figure out"
"Even if I do, the underworld isn't a tourist spot. How do I even go there?"
"Excuses, huh? Good thing I have it all planned out" Eros pulls out a flask from beneath his toga. "Easy, you have to die"
You almost spit out the coffee. "You are kidding, right?"
"No?" Eros tilts his head like you just speak in a language he doesn't understand.
"Come on..."
"Only dead people go to the underworld so you have to die"
"Can't you just transport me there? Or you are a god, you can just go in and grab the helmet"
"It's not that simple. I can go to the underworld, yes. But there's no way Persephone will tell me the password and Hades will find out. And if I just send you there, you will be alive and they will quickly sense your presence. Trust me, you don't wan to be alive there"
"Isn't there any other way?"
"Sadly, no. But I have a way to bring you back after you complete the task" Eros pulls out a small vial from his toga again. He shakes the vial to show you the yellow liquid inside. "Drink this and you will be back to life"
"It sounds easier said than done"
"Kazuha will explain you the rest of the details"
Kazuha waves her hand and a map replaces part of the glass wall.
"This is the underworld" Kazuha starts explaining the regions of the place you will soon be going to and you have never focused more in your life. As Kazuha finishes, whatever hope that remains in you has been lost.
"It's impossible" you groan.
"It is. But that's what you do Michael. You remove the 'im' in impossible" Eros's encouragements sounds more like a joke.
"What if I don't make it?"
"You will. I trust you. So are you ready?"
You are totally not but you nod.
"Excellent! Lies on the couch"
"Isn't it a limited edition or something?"
"This is a special ocassion"
You sink into the soft material, heart already racing with fear and excitement. Eros removes the cork from the flask, offering it to you and then he suddenly puts it down.
"God! I nearly forget" Eros fishes into his toga and bring out a silver coin. You wouldn't be surprised if he pulls out a car next.
"Put this under your tongue. Your ferry fees"
You put the cold piece of metal into your mouth. It tastes sour somehow. Eros put the vial in your pocket. Can the object even follow you to the afterlife? You have no choice but to trust him.
"And we are all set! Now.." Eros bring the flask to your lips. "Drink"
You takes a sip of the liquid, which tastes like a combination of ketchup and sewer water. You expect your insides to start burning but there's no pain. Eros shuts your eyes with a wave of his hand. "Goodnight"
A drowsy feeling overwhelms you. It can almost be mistaken for sleepiness except that you can no longer move your body. If this is death, it's not so bad. No more thoughts form in your mind as your consciousness drift away bits by bits.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Dark. Inky. Murky.
All of these words are perfect for describing the underworld.
As you wake up slowly on the shore of black sand, the first thing you notice is the gloom. It's hovering over the place, giving it a permanent dreadful atmosphere. But that's just the start of things that suck the joy out of your heart.
All around you, humanoid shapes litter the shore. Then you realize they are actually humans, or what used to be humans. Most of them wear a solemn expression on their faces, wandering around aimlessly. Their bodies are see through, like those spirits you see in movies. Their outfits range from the Victorian era to modern day designer suits. The majority of them are adults but you spot a few children. In short, it's a crowd of hopeless souls.
Looking down, you find yourself in the same condition: see through. Beyond the shore, on the bank of an inky black river, a cloaked figure sits on a boat. Charon, the ferryman of the dead; Kazuha had explained.
You walk to the boat and Charon looks up. He's a scraggly old man with wrinkles all over his face. "Payment?" he demands.
The coin Eros has given you is no longer under your tongue but you found it in your jeans pocket and hand it to the ferryman. Charon takes the payment with his gnarled fingers and grab the oar. "Get in"
As the boat drifts slowly away from the shore, something unexpected happens. Some of the souls on the shore start to run towards the boat, their lifeless eyes glimming with enthusiasm. You start to panic but Charon simply swaths away the hitch hikers swimming across the black liquid with the oar. He doesn't seem fazed in the slightest bit.
As boat makes it way to the other side with the speed a snail could outrun, you think about suggesting Hades to buy a faster vehicle. A motorboat wouldn't be impossible with all those riches he has underground.
After an eternity, you finally make it to the other shore where the harder part of your quest starts. As soon as you get off, Charon rows back to the opposite side, leaving you on the beach of the same black sand.
Before you rise a towering wall of obsidian which stretch off as far as your eyes can see. A path leads to the opening in the middle of the wall but it isn't left unguarded either. Hovering over the queue of souls that pass under its belly is the largest hound you have ever seen. If the sheer size of the monster isn't intimidating enough, its three heads do the job; their mouths opened to reveal fangs that can snap a plane in half. For the finishing touch, its black fur fits perfectly with the surroundings. This dog literally screams 'underworld'.
You reluctantly get behind the line of souls, pouring into the inside of the wall. According to Kazuha, beyond it would lies the judgement pavilion, where the death will be judged and sent to a suitable place depending on how they have lived their lives. Your quest requires you to take a different path after getting inside the walls. And even if you are judged right now, the result wouldn't be pretty.
As the queue gets shorter and you approach the walls, your kneels start to buckle. You have been able to hold back your fear till now but after hearing the agonizing screams that ring out from the fields of punishment, you start doubting yourself.
To start, you only have the slightest idea of where you are heading to and even if you do get there, you have to interrogate a goddess with your dick. Part of you also wonder why Eros needs the helmet. If it's for decoration, the thing radiates pure darkness and isn't exactly to his taste. Nevertheless, you have come this far and the only way is onward.
A horrible stench tickle your nostrils and that's when you look up and find yourself under the belly of the beast. It would have crushed anything alive to pieces which you luckily aren't. The souls disappear into the wall one after another and soon, you are at the front of the line. Two skeletal guards in combat armor have barricaded the entrance by crossing their spears and you have to look away from their hollow eye sockets before you get the urge to turn and run.
"Elysium!" A judgement is passed from inside the walls and the guards uncross their spears, allowing you entry. A pebble path lies the way to the tall marble pavilion. Another path curves to the right, leading deeper into the underworld. The path to Hades's palace. The path you have to take.
But the task proves harder than you thought with the skeletal guards lining both sides of the way. There's no way you can try to sneak or run away. Luckily, you have one last trick up your sleeve. A gift from Kazuha.
You pull out the pocket watch from your jeans and turns the winder. As soon as it turns a 90 degree, the clock shatters to pieces. For a moment, nothing happens. The guards watch you with quizzical expressions. Then they freeze. Everything is still. Time has stopped.
Kazuha has said it will last about 10 seconds but you are not taking any chances. You push through the guards and run down the path to Hades's palace. Fortunately, there aren't any guards this way. Maybe Hades like to have some privacy. Nevertheless, your speed does not waver, trying to get as far as possible before those guards can find out what have happened.
At your right lies a dusty plane filled with dead trees, their branches crooked and leafless. The fields of Asphodel, where the souls who deserve neither paradise nor punishment are sent to. Souls similar to the ones you have seen at the other side wander the place aimlessly. However, they look...dimmer, fading in and out of place. To you, this endless roaming doesn't sound any better than the fields of punishment.
The place at your left is a completely different story. Crystal clear water encircle an enormous island with sandy shores and palm trees. Architecture from different eras occupy the inland. You can hear the faint sound of music and the smell of spices. Elysium, the paradise for only the most worthy souls. You spot a few souls, who are glowing unlike the others you have seen, dancing on the beach. This seems to be the only place free from the gloom of the underworld.
You have no time to envy though, as you move forward, the obsidian palace of Hades starts to come into view. This building is something out of a gothic nightmare. With its numerous towers and the huge sets of iron doors, it seems to absorb any light that dare comes near.
You stop to catch your breath from all the running you have been doing. Luckily, the guards still haven't found you. But it's nothing to celebrate because there's one last obstacle in your way. Guarding the palace's door are the two biggest skeletal warriors you have ever seen, each weilding an axe. You wish the pocket watch haven't shattered to pieces. If it have just one more use, you might be able to get pass those giants.
You try to come up with a plan. It's impossible to charge head on. You don't have anything that can be used as a weapon and you will be sliced to pieces. And even if there's a weapon, you doubt you can do much against those huge guards. Maybe you can try distracting? But how?
You are too distract drawing up something to infiltrate the palace you make the mistake of leaving your back turned for too long. The next thing you know, a blunt object have landed on your neck with so much force that you fall to your knees. Before passing out, the last thing you see is the permanent grin of a skeleton.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
At this point, you are already the epitome of passing out.
It can't leave you alone even when you are death like seriously? Here you are, making your way all through the underworld just to be knocked out at the last possible moment. That's partly your fault for being reckless but still, it annoys you.
Luckily, the headaches and the pain that usually follow those black outs isn't there this time. Maybe the dead can't be hurt. That doesn't make it appealing though. You would be perfectly fine with being a normal mortal.
"I know you are awake. Stop acting" A shrill voice forces you to open your eyes, finding your hands and legs tied to bed posts by green curly vines. The dim lanterns that line the walls illuminate the circular room made of the same materials as most of the structure in the underworld; obsidian. The thing that stands out the most, however, is the fresco of people getting tortured in various methods painted on the ceiling. If you want to have nightmares every single night, this room would be perfect.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" You locate the owner of the voice to your left. Shuhua, the member of (g)i-dle, stands propping to a bedpost. Her pearly white skin contrasts the black silky dress she's wearing, with a thigh slit to showcase her voluptous legs. She might look exactly like the idol but you know better.
"Persephone?" you ask.
"Oh, I'm flattered. Most people only know my husband. But drop the formalties. It's Shuhua"
You thought humans are obsessed enough with kpop but it seems like the gods are the biggest fans.
"A runner, huh?" Shuhua'a sharp fake nails trace across your chest and that's when you realize your clothes are gone. Speaking from experience, it's not really fun to see the bedsheets through your body. "I can tell you are not ordinary. That little trick you did to those guards. Tell me. Who are you?"
She doesn't seem to be aware of your real plan, which is good news. If you can just stall long enough and get your mark to activate somehow, you might have a chance.
"Michael" you answer.
"You know that's not what I mean" Shuhua's nails travel down to your stomach, drawing circles lazily. "Why do you come here?"
"I die. Would there be any other reason?"
"True. You are dead. But you wouldn't run all the way to my palace if you are just 'dead', will you?"
You fry your brain trying to come up with a logical answer without revealing the truth. But as usual, it fails you at the most vital moments.
"Trying to be silent?" A nail digs in to your pelvis, making you groan at the sudden burst of pain. Then another follows suit and you groan again. Seems like your theory about the dead being immune to pain is wrong. You don't bleed but the pain is ver much real. After all her five nails are planted in you, you are nearly shaking from the torment. Yet, you keep your mouth shut.
"Hmm, not bad" Shuhua extract her nails from your pelvis and you exhale in relief. "There's still plenty of other ways to break you though"
You start imagining the worst torture methods throughout history. If the gods have been around since the beginning, Shuhua would definitely have some knowledge. However, what she does next surprise you.
Shuhua lets a strap of her dress fall from her shoulder then the other, exposing her upper body. You have to avert your gaze from her tits not to get hard but fail as you can feel the blood starting to rush to your dick. The last time you are hard and tied up, the consequences haven't been so pretty. And now you are in the same position again.
Shuhua undo the rest of her dress, revealing her skin inch by inch as she slowly pulls down her dress. Being the pervert you are, your gaze land again on her cleanly shaved pussy and that gets your mamba springing right up.
Shuhua doesn't summon any blade to cut off your dick though. Instead, she gets on the bed, landing her feet on either sides of your head. "Let's see if you can still stay silent" Shuhua gives you a cold smile before lowering her ass right on your face.
You instantly lost your breath(not that way) as her hips comes crushing down on you and her legs straddle your head, giving you no room to escape. Your nose is squeeze between her buttocks, depriving you of of oxygen. Instead of strangling you, she's choking you with her ass. And another discovery. You can still choke if you are dead.
At first, you panic, shaking your body to find a way to escape despite the vines holding you down. Then you remember. There's only one thing to do if a girl sits on your face.
You starts to explore between her legs with your tongue though it's hard with her ass obscuring your view. After a few tries of licking her supple flesh, you finally find your target. As soon as your tongue comes in contact with the moist velvety slit, you dives in, tongue fucking her pussy. Shuhua lets out a moan and shift her hips a little from your sudden ambush, giving you a breath of air. As her ass presses down on your face again, you start licking frantically, tasting every inch of her goddess pussy. Either from pleasure or the urge to interrogate you farther, Shuhua's legs squeeze your head harder.
The pressure leaves your ears ringing but your task at hand is too important to care. Your tongue travels upwards,landing on her clit. Shuhua writhes as you give her sensitive bud a few licks before going back to her slit, which is now so wet you can literally glide on it. The lack of oxygen becomes less and less of a problem as Shuhua sway her hips the longer you take in everything her goddess pussy deliver. And her legs that once squeeze your head are now shaking so much they forget their initial job.
Shuhua isn't even hiding it anymore. Her moans reasonate around the room with every slurp and lick. To be honest, she acts like she does this to draw information from you when all she wanted was for someone to eat her out. This goddess is just one big slut. Your fear starts to drain from your body as you gain the upperhand in this game of ass and tongue. And you decide to make it an impossible one for her to win.
You abruptly stop the movement of your tongue and Shuhua's moans are left half formed. It's risky, yes. She could have just crash yout face with her ass again and choke you. Or......?
"Why....why did you stop?" Shuhua's voice is hoarse from all the moaning. The edgy tone replaced by one of lust.
"I thought you are interrogating me" You mock.
"Yes, yes I am"
"Then why did yoy ask me why I stop? Aren't you supposed to choke me?"
You have her cornered. Now, she can either admit she's a slut or give up on the pleasure she so desperately craves.
"I'm going to. If you don't continue" she threatens and you have to admit it scares you a bit but you pushes on. It's now or never.
"Really, though? You are the one who's on cloud nine after I tongue fuck your hole. Tell me, Shuhua. How long has it been since someone makes you cum?"
"Nonsense! I have plenty of ways to...relief myself. Now get back or else-"
"Or else what?" You cut her off. "You are just a slut who have no one to satisfy the urge of your slutty holes. Or is Hades not fucking you enough?"
"My husband is very busy.." She answers. "He doesn't have time for such luxuries..."
And that confirms your thoughts. The queen of the underworld is just one horny whore.
"You take me here just to fulfill your fantasies, didn't you? You are desperate enough to let a dead stranger in your room"
"No, that's not.." Shuhua protests but her lips betray her, letting out pants and moans as you swipe at her clit one single time with your tongue.
"Now, I'm going to make an offer. Admit you are a slut and I will give you what you need. Or you can deny it and be a horny bitch for eternity"
Shuhua is silent for a moment. Then her voice returns.
"Fine....I'm a....slut" Her words drops to a whisper.
"Can't hear you down here"
"I'm a slut" she finally admits and the deal is sealed. You have revealed the true face of this seemingly cold goddess. But being a man of your words, you would keep your promise.
Shuhua lets out an earth shattering moan as you feast on her pussy once again. The only difference this time is that she's no longer blocking your airway with her huge ass. Not that you mind though. Nevertheless, you tackle her most vunerable spots with each swipe of your tongue and Shuhua can do nothing except writhes and moans.
You really wish your hands haven't been tied up. That way, you would have been able to feel those silky thighs and allowed to take in more of her taste. But you gotta work with what you have and put in every effort to make this goddess cum.
You turn you attention solely on her clit, rapidly circling and teasing the spot with your tongue.
"Yes, just like that. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. Don't stop"
Shuhua thanks you with more carnal groans and moans. And from the way her legs are trembling non stop, you realize her end is near. The knowledge leads you to devour her pussy like there's no tomorrow and Shuhua's pleas to you not to stop are unnecessary because you don't plan to. Not with how sweet this goddess taste.
"Fuck. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum...fuckkkk"
A waterfall erupts from Shuhua's hole, showering your face with her squirt. You keep on licking her moist hole, trying to prolong the orgasm as long as possible. Shuhua lets out a few more jets of her nectar into your mouth then she goes limp, her moans now replaced by pants.
Her pussy is still hovering over your face and you have to fight the urge not to dive in again. You don't want to break her completely just yet. You still need something from her.
Shuhua finally gets off the bed, stuggering to a chair with her shaking legs and plop herself down. She lets out a few more pants then look up at you with the cold expression earlier.
"You are an idiot" Shuhua says. "I have used you. Now you are mine to do whatever I like"
The only thought on your mind? You are very very fucked. Sure, she has admit she's a whore and succumbed to pleasure. But there's one thing you miss. She'a a fucking goddess. And apparently, that's not a metaphor.
"Now, tell me who you are and who sent you. Or else..."
Shuhua twirls a finger and more vines start to creep up your hands and legs. They make their way down to your thorax and abdomen and in a moment your neck will be covered too. The goddess of vegetation seems to be as powerful as any other gods and it's your fault that you underestimate her.
"Wait!" You yell before those long curly things choke you and this time, it wouldn't be as pleasant.
"Yes?" Shuhua eyes you like a trapped animal, an amused smile on her lips.
"I will tell you.."
"Go on"
"I come to..."
You stop as the familiar tingle of adrenaline starts to emerge from your core. It gets stronger withe each passing second until the only thing on your mind is lust. No other emotions matter. The vines wrapping you turn to ashes in a second as a golden aura envelopes you. On your plevis, above your rock hard dick is the red pantegram, the mark of Asmodeus. Once again, a dead threat have activated it.
"It can't be..." Shuhua eyes widen in panic, backing off to a corner of the room.
"Oh, it is" You say with the grin of a mad man as you walk off the bed to her. "And I will show you"
Shuhua unfold her palms and more vines slither up your legs. But as soon as they touch your aura, the green things burst to flames. You are invisible.
"Back off!" Shuhua threatens. "I will kill you!"
"Oh, but I'm already dead" More vines go up to flames around your feet.
"If my husband knows-"
You close the distance between you and Shuhua, gazing into those eyes filled with terror.
"Maybe he will. But right now, there's no one to save you"
Shuhua starts to call for help but you are quicker, sealing her mouth with your palm.
"Not so fast now, hmm? I still need to teach you a lesson"
You grab Shuhua from the waist, throwing her onto the bed like a rag doll. With the strength the mark gives you, such a task is not impossible.
As you approach her, Shuhua attempts to kill you again with those vines but as usual,they disintegrate as soon as they touch the aura. Will she ever learn?
You get on the bed, looming over Shuhua who lays sprawled out. Not being able to use her vegetation abilities, she strikes you with her nails but you grab her wrist just in time.
"Seriously?" You ask as you pin her hands down. "Is that all you got?"
"You bastard!" Shuhua curses. "You will pay for this"
"You talk too much" You capture her lips with yours, restricting any more curses from coming out.
Finally, you plunge your cock into her already moist slit, enticing a moan from her which is quickly muffled by your lips. The only sounds she will be making are the slapping sound of your dick against her cervix.
You start out slow, giving her lazy thrusts to get accustomed to the size of your cock. The feeling of her walls tracing every inch of yours is phenomenal, the way a goddess should be built. However, her juice coats your pole, adding friction with each thrust until you are pistoning into her at full force.
Shuhua's juicy thighs jiggle and you wouldn't have missed the glorious view if it's not for the fact that you have to keep her mouth shut. Shuhua is still trying to resist. A vine or two try to strangle you from time to time but of course, that has little to no effect. The mark wouldn't allow anything else to stop you from fucking this goddess's brains out.
You release her lips for a moment to let her breathe. As soon as her lips are free, she curses again but her breath hitches as you pull out and bury your dick all the way to her cunt.
"What is it again?" You ask as you give her another forceful thrust that reaches her womb.
"I-" She begins but her words get cut off again as your cock hit her womb once again. "Fuck-"
"That's more like it" You praise her, putting her into a mating press position and pounding her hole with all your might.
Shuhua no longer threatens. You stare at her lust filled eyes, far gone with the way she's getting fucked thoroughly. Her tits bounce rapidly from the pace and you can't help but give each of those heavy melons a squeeze each. It's not everyday you get to fuck a goddess and you decide to make the most of it.
"Yes, pound my pussy..don't stop" Shuhua mutters dreamily, her mouth gaped open just like the way her pussy open up for your cock. Realizing she needs all her hole stuffed, you shoved four of your fingers into her mouth, which she eagerly licks and tastes.
"Fuck. You are such a whore. Who would have thought a goddess would be no different from a hooker, huh?" You ask and of course, she can't answer. Not with how her holes are full. But the way her eyes beg for more is enough answer.
"Slut, turn around" You order and she instantly gets into a doggy style position, putting her huge ass out for display. You spank her baby making hips a couple of time again before you thrust into her again. This time into a different hole.
"Fuck!" Shuhua's yelps in surprise as your cock make its way into her tight asshole. Her walls clench down on you hard but the makeshift lube of her pussy juice ease the pressure.
"Tell me Shuhua, have you ever done anal before?" You ask as you buck your hips to fit into more of her tighthole.
"No..no..fuck!" Shuhua curses again as your cock reaches a new depth. Her ass has swallowed most of your cock by now and its taking in inch by inch with each thrust.
"Oh, am I taking your ass virginity?" You ask as you bury your whole length into her ass, her skin rippling when your cervix meets her ass.
"Yes....god!" Shuhua screams as her ass give way to the invading object, molding to the shape of your cock. After a few more pumps, there's no longer any constriction and you are given free rein to mount her.
The cold vengeful goddess is no more. What lies beneath you is nothing but a mere sexdoll who have succumbed to her own animalistic urges. Her only purpose to be fucked through and through by your invading cock.
The power you feel is unrivaled. Sure, most of it comes from the mark of Asmodeus or whatever, but there's nothing better than to see a goddess who have try to take your life fall victim to your cock. She's not the first and she wouldn't be the last.
You pull out your cock to watch her gaping asshole, clenching on nothing as if begging for your cock to enter again. After this session, you are pretty sure she wouldn't be able to live without having something stuffed in her loose hole. For now, you fill it up with your cock once again and she moans in delight, fingers gripping the bedsheet.
As you start hammering into her ass again, the funniest thought enters your mind. Shuhua is no different from the people being tortured in the fresco above. You being the punisher and her sin being a horny whore. Maybr that's just your horny mind speaking.
In underworld terms, you continue to torment her, stretching her out even more that your cock now only feel the friction against her walls. No more tightness. No more clenches. She has been loosened up completely.
You are drowning in victory and rapture, you nearly forget the very reason you died for. You scan the room and spot a large metallic safe in one corner of the room. To your surprise, it looks just like a standard safe, the only difference being the way to open it. It has no keyhole or knob, just one black spehere embedded on the surface. Before the bliss of Shuhua's asshole can cloud your mind again, you ask her the question.
"What's the password to the safe?"
"Wha- what?" Shuhua answers through clenched teeth.
"The password to the safe, bitch" You give her a forceful thrust, tensing her body up.
"I...I can't-"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, no-" She begs immediately.
"Then tell me the password"
"It's 'password'"
"Are you kidding me?" Your palm lands on her smooth skin with a loud smack.
Shuhua groans in pain, which is just another word for 'pleasure' to her. "No, I swear. The password is 'password' "
You nearly burst out laughing. It seems the goda are no different from humans when it comes to humor.
"Good girl" You praise. "Now, I'm going to reward you"
Even the mark has its limit. The rush of energy that push you to keep going is getting weaker along with your limbs. And most of all, your balls are aching for a release. You can't stall any more even if you want to.
"I'm going to fill your asshole with my cum, slut. Take it all"
"Yes, yes! Fill me up! Give me your cum!"
After a few more hard thrust, you finally unload into Shuhua's tighthole, shooting one spurt of cum after another. If goddesses can break their vocal cords, Shuhua's going to be the example soon as she moans at the feeling of her asshole being filled up to the brim. You pull out after emptying all your seeds into Shuhua. The mark has faded and the aura is gone. Your mind and body are left exhausted.
But there's no time to rest or cuddle. You have a quest to finish. Leaving the broken goddess on the bed who's still make no other sounds except pants and groans, you rush to the safe where the helmet is kept.
You are neither a burglar nor an engineer but Eros has said it's opened by a spoken password so you try the only option. 'Password' You say the password (yeah, it's cringe) to the orb in the middle. The black ball begins to grow untilit has consumed the whole safe into its surface. Then, the orb splits into four sections, revealing the helmet inside. You must admit, this is a pretty sick way to open a safe.
As soon as you grab the helmet, hundreds of footsteps like a marching army start to echo from beyond the door. After the hearing the clink of armours and weapons, you realize the guards have probably heard the screams of Shuhua.
You go around the room frantically, searching for your clothes. Luckily, Shuhua has left them in a pile on a table and you fish around your jean pockets for the vial in panic. To make things even worse, loud bangs start to reasonate from the door and the chatter of limbs and ribs. You have at least 10 seconds before the army of skeletons crash into the room.
You finally located the vial and remove the cap, pouring the yellow liquid which taste no different from water into your mouth. And that takes up the whole 10 seconds. The door breaks open and the horde of skeleton enter the room and you are still daed, standing there butt naked, holding the helm of Hades.
The guards look confused at first then charge you. You mutter a curse at Eros and before the spear of the first skeleton make contact, every molecules in your body break apart and you dissolve into nothingness.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Don't ask you how you feel. Because you don't know how to describe it. It would be same with asking someone to describe what nothing feels like. Well....it feels like nothing.
You find yourself on the bed, back in the room at Eros's skyscrapper. Naked but no longer see through and most importantly, alive. Beyond the glass, a light rain drizzles over the casins of Las Vegas. You don't really feel like testing your luck right now.
A chime rings from the bedside table and you turn to find your phone opened. Miraculously, it has no more cracks and looks as good as news. The top of your pink lockscreen (seriously, Eros?) is occupied by a single notification from the 'Ero' app. But this time it's not a quest. The message from Eros leaves you dazzled.
"Welcome back, Michael. Ever dreamed of taking a goddess's virginity?"
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
(Yeah, turn out we are fucking gods)
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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chapter six: e pluribus unum
“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?” Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!”  “Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”
Summary: things get hot and heavy in the face of death, mean russians kidnap your hot almost-boyfriend, you have a philosophical discussion about nerdiness with the kids, acid becomes your new favorite weapon, and steve and robin try drugs together. yippee !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing, blood and mentions of death, use of weapons
Words: 6.7k
Before you swing in: oh BOY do i have a lot to say about this chapter ,,, but for now i will hold off. pls, enjoy her. youve all waited so very patiently for this moment, and im SO excited to see what yall have to say <333
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“The gate,” you, Steve, and Dustin breathe out at the same time. You stare at the machine before you; the gravity of the situation settles upon all of you as the machine continues to send pulses of light into the entrance of the Upside Down. 
The lights flash, the blue flickers across your face as countless men in lab coats marvel at their creation, and your hands tighten into fists. What they have created will only undo the endless hours you have spent trying to protect everyone, it diminishes every sacrifice that has been made, it taunts the blood that has been spilled. 
You hate them, you hate what they have brought back into your life. 
“We have to get out of here.” No one argues with you, and quickly you guide everyone downstairs.
“What’s going on?” Robin asks as you gently push her down the stairs, quickening her pace. The urgence of your actions, however, only alert her that something is wrong. “Why do you guys look so scared?”
Days of hiding the truth from her have finally caught up to you, you can feel it, and yet there isn’t anything you can really tell her. Not yet, at least; there isn’t enough time. Hurrying down the stairs, you shake your head at Robin. “It’s a lot to explain.”
“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?”
She’s always been too perceptive.
You hate her genius mind. 
“Not exactly.” Steve takes over now, trying to help.
Robin’s voice raises, she’s becoming inpatient. “Then what, exactly?”
Two of them argue and Dustin joins in, though you ignore them and reach the last step to start looking for any possible weapons in the room. If you guys have even the slightest chance of making it out of here alive, then you’ll need more than your switchblade and Steve’s surprising new combat skills. 
As your eyes scan the room, you realize, too late, that the Russian guard Steve had knocked out only minutes ago is now gone. Horrified, you frantically whip your head to find him, but the man is gone. 
Wonderful. 
Erica notices this too. “Um, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?”
With impeccable comedic timing, lights begin to flicker above you as an alarm sounds. Seems the Russian guard snitched, then. 
“Oh, shit!” Your switchblade finds its way into your hand. This just keeps getting worse and worse.
Steve curses as well and sprints to the door to open it, trying to find another way out, but instead he finds a swarm of guards all staring back at him. Cursing again, he slams the door shut. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know by the look on his face that you’re in deep shit. “Go, go, go!”
Blindly you shove Dustin and Erica into the nearest door, tugging at Robin, and Steve takes the rear as the group starts to run. Your senses are in overdrive, your head swims with anxiety and your eyes flicker to any possible way out. Your legs ache with exertion, but you have no fucking idea where you are. 
You make a sharp right and open a random door, but almost immediately you stumble to a halt when you see that it’s the room to the goddamn machine opening the Upside Down. Of course this is the room you chose. The scientists all stare at you, and you really wish you had stayed in bed yesterday. “Fuck!”
“Go, Y/N!” Dustin yanks on your arm and goes left, finding stairs to run down.
You risk a quick look over your shoulder and your heart drops when you see that the Russian guards are close behind. “We got company!” You’re on the landing platform now, too close to the machine and the gate for your own comfort. Dustin screeches as he shoves a Russian against the railing. You wince, feeling bad despite the horrible circumstances. “Sorry!”
“Why are you apologizing to the Russians–holy shit–” Gripping the back of your brother’s shirt, you save him from face planting into the giant laser beam. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!”
Steve and the others have joined now, and you realize how helplessly cornered the five of you are. You’re standing on the edge of the platform and the laser’s heat can be felt even six feet away while twenty armed Russian soldiers approach from behind. 
Defeated, helpless, terrified, you turn to the person whose hand rests gently on the small of your back; the only person who gives you solace. “Steve.” 
It’s all you can say, your knees feel weak and your body turns to his, helpless. You don’t know what else to do. Steve’s eyes find yours, he can feel Dustin looking to him for help as well. Robin, Erica. Everyone is looking to him, and yet he’s just as terrified. 
“This way!” He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to protect you. Running back down the stairs, he shoves a guard that blocks the path and you’re right behind him, pushing barrels at more guards that round the corner so that no one else can follow. 
“Go!” You wave the others ahead, now taking the rear with Steve. The two of you do whatever you can to slow the Russians down as Robin leads the kids towards another door. You’re all blindly running through the endless walls of the facility.
The door flies open and everyone rushes into the room. 
Everything happens quickly after that.
Steve slams the door while you hold the kids behind you, away from the door and fearful of the bullets that may rain through it. Steve braces his back against the door. The Russians pound the frame from the other side. 
Madly looking around for any sign of an exit, your body fills with unbearable dread when you realize that you’ve locked yourselves in a room without any way out. 
Dustin’s scared hand grips at your arm. He seems to realize what you already have. “Shit!”
“Robin!” Steve calls out to her, desperate. He’s rapidly losing his footing to hold his position as the guards’ fists rage a relentless war. “Help me, come on!”
She runs to him and throws her back against the door as well, and the distress in Steve’s voice only hastens you as you run around the room. There has to be a way out. You refuse to die like this, far below Hawkins and the sunlight you’ve come to love within the small town. 
Breath quickening, you rush up the steps within the room and drag Dustin along with you. Robin’s face is red now, Steve’s feet keep slipping, and from the force of which the door they hold thuds, you know the guards have started to throw their own bodies against it. 
Something creeks below your foot. You look down and inexplicably hope jumps into your chest. There’s a vent grate, this entire underground facility is full of air ducts, it’s how you got into this entire fucking mess in the first place. “Here! I found something!”
Erica joins you and Dustin and quickly the three of you pry the vent open. You help Erica lower herself inside, instructing her to start crawling, now, when Dustin shouts down to Robin and Steve. “Come on!”
“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve screams back, groaning as the pounding on the door becomes more and more violent. 
Your hand, which had been on your brother’s back, ready to help him inside the air duct next, stills. Your entire body freezes as you look over at Steve, ice cold fear crawls up your neck; doubt creeps in as you realize, far too late, that there isn’t enough time for them to escape into the vent. 
There never seems to be enough time. 
But you have to try anyway. All you ever do is try, you will die trying, you just can’t let it be in vain. “Steve, Robin, let’s go!”
Steve clenches his teeth as another body throws itself against the door. Through his exertion he can see how pale you are now, the realization that dawns on you that you will have to leave him behind, and Steve wishes he could kiss the despair off of your pretty face. “No! Just go and get some help, okay?”
“I–I can’t–” Dustin tugs at your shirt to come with him, but your body is unmoving. You can’t, you won’t leave them behind, Steve’s biceps strain against the doorframe and Robin groans in pain, and yet your brother’s fearful grip on you reminds you of your responsibility to him as well. To protect him, to get Erica home, be with them.
But Steve is in danger. He needs you.
You don’t know what to do. 
“Y/N!” Dustin calls after you as you tear yourself away from him.
Blindly, as your vision darkens and the terror in your body threatens to consume you, you stumble down the steps towards Steve. You need to be close to him, it’s all your mind and body can register as the roaring in your head nearly deafens you.
As soon as you’re in front of him, grasping at his shoulders to try and take him with you, Steve pushes you away. “Y/N, you need to leave–”
“I’m not leaving you!” The shrillness scares even yourself, the sheer desperation to stay with Steve comes deep from within your chest as you scream at him. You’re panicking now, angry at him for even considering the idea that you’d ever leave him. As if you haven’t just gotten him back.
You’re never letting go of him now that you have him. 
Not again. 
Robin tries to reason with you herself, distantly you think she pleads with you, but your vision tunnels and all you can see is Steve. Your body hums with the need for his.
“Y/N, listen to me,” Another thud against the door, Robin’s foot slips, and Steve has to throw his head back and brace for yet another impact. He’s angry at you, too. For not listening to him. For how you’ve always blindly sacrificed yourself, harmed yourself to protect others.
Steve won’t let you hurt yourself anymore, not when he can save you.
Not again.
“The kids need you–”
“I need you!” Tears wet your face now, you’re clutching at Steve’s shirt as Dustin continues to scream at you to run, to not abandon him, and it feels as if you can’t breathe as words begin to tumble from your mouth with hysteria. “We–we can run, right now! You’re fast, and–and Robin can jump and–”
Steve’s lips crash against yours. 
He’s weak and scared and helpless; this is the only way he knows how to get you to listen. 
You breathe in sharply as his lips move against yours, you melt into him. He pours everything into the kiss, your teeth knock against his and your hands find his hair, tugging at it as Steve tries to convey everything that time won’t allow him to. 
The kiss is rushed, it’s messy and it’s aching, and through it Steve begs you. To love him despite the fact that he has to leave you, that he’s doing this for you, he begs you to remember him, and selfishly he kisses you because he doesn’t want to die knowing he’s wasted half the damn summer without ever knowing how your lips felt against his. 
It isn’t death that terrifies Steve, it’s the idea that he almost died without knowing how you tasted. 
When Steve finally pulls away, you’re too shocked to move. His lips are tinged pink and his brown eyes are dark in the lighting and you’re both breathless. Your hands remain in his hair, all you can register is how the strands feel between your fingers and that Dustin is now at your side, yanking at your arm to follow him back towards the vent. 
Numbly you allow Steve’s hands to help Dustin move your limp body, your feet rise to reach the steps. The warmth of Steve’s body is gone now. Faintly you feel your brother’s firm, but gentle, hands as he shoves you inside the vent.
There’s a tugging within your chest suddenly, an overwhelming sensation to turn around, and abruptly you come back to yourself. The roaring in your head quiets for only a moment, the lights are bright and Dustin’s fingers dig into your skin, yet still your eyes find Steve.
He’s far below you now, the Russians have almost broken through the door, and his kiss still sears your lips. Urgently, viciously, you scream the only thing you can think of that encompasses all the love and terror within you, “Come home to me!”
Steve opens his mouth to promise you that he will, he always will. You can hear the promise even before he’s said it, but the doors burst open and Dustin slams the vent’s grate down. 
You ran out of time. 
The echo of the grate’s slam rings in your ears. 
– 
Erica is the one that guides you through the air ducts. 
You haven’t said anything since leaving Steve and Robin behind; it’s been hours now, and yet still you do not speak.
Dustin crawls behind you, worried. He watches your body shake slightly as you crawl through the narrow space. His stomach lurches when he notices how white your knuckles have become from how tightly you clench your fists. 
You’re clinging onto what little resolve you have left, it’s evident to Dustin, and he worries about when, not if, you’ll finally snap. He knows that now isn’t the right time to initiate a code blue, but he’s concerned seeing you so broken. He hates that he can’t do anything, that he dragged you away from the others. 
The air inside the ducts is warm, almost nauseatingly so, and the ringing in your ears has yet to fade. Steve’s kiss still burns your lips. His promise to you, that he would return and come back home to you, the promise that he couldn’t make, drowns out all of your other thoughts. 
Come home to me.
He hadn’t had time to answer you. 
The thought nauseates you more than the sickening heat that surrounds you. You left him. Robin, too. 
You left them both behind, just like you left Will behind the night the Demogorgon got him. And the kids, that night when you abandoned them at the middle school and left them vulnerable to that fucking monster. And Jonathan, when he thought his brother had died and you were too lost in your self pity when he needed you the most. 
Now, after promising Steve you’d stay, sworn in the passenger seat of his car as the snow fell around you both, you’ve left him once more. 
Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.
The promises you’ve made burn so deeply that a wince escapes your lips, and Dustin quietly asks if you’re okay. 
“‘M fine,” you manage to rasp out, crawling forward despite the tormented tugging that begs you to turn around.
You hear Dustin’s lips part, he doesn’t believe you and wants to argue, but you keep your head turned away from him and he instead settles on sighing. You’re not ready to talk about it, not yet. Not now, not when you feel as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself. 
Erica turns a corner and starts to slow down. “Fans up ahead.”
“Great,” Dustin groans when he sees the giant blades spinning, blocking the way forward. “Think we could time it right and jump through them?”
“If you wanna lose a head, sure.” Erica snorts, unpleased with the risky idea. “Don’t you have tools in those lame ass cargo shorts you’re wearing?”
“My cargo shorts aren’t lame…”
You sit quietly as Dustin and Erica try and figure out what to do. You’re still in shock, you can’t gather the energy to try and help them. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, deactivating your ability to do anything other than be plagued with the crippling sensation of loss. 
Eventually Erica convinces Dustin to try and break into the control panel next to the fans and shut them down manually. He pulls a screwdriver from one of his pockets (to Erica’s utter amusement), and starts unscrewing the bolts. Through it all, you remain quiet, and when Dustin looks over at you, he finds you staring blankly at the walls with an almost lifeless gaze.
He sighs. Needing to distract himself, Dustin figures now is as good a time as any to explain everything to Erica. The Russians, why they’re here, why you’ve almost lost your mind trying to protect everyone. “It all started the night Will disappeared, two years ago.”
Dustin explains the Upside Down, the Demogorgon and how it was able to travel to their world through a gate El had accidentally opened with her powers, and now how the Russians have somehow found this gate and are attempting to reopen it.
Erica, to her credit, listens. She doesn’t question a thing, and Dustin is surprised by her lack of sarcastic input, but when he finishes explaining everything, the girl only has doubts about one thing: Lucas being involved. 
“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate, and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement?” Dustin asks the girl, in disbelief of how her mind works. 
“That’s correct.”
Then, surprising them both, you finally speak. “Lucas is brave, Erica. He’s done a lot for the party.”
Erica’s stony expression softens slightly, her usual argumentative demeanor backs down. “Yeah, well. Whatever. You’re damn lucky it’s your birthday and I feel bad for you.”
It’s not much, but you know that she’s spared you her malice. For once you accept the sympathy, even if your luck has run out hours ago when Steve kissed you and then tore you apart. “Lucky,” you snort. “Yeah.”
Dustin and Erica look at one another wearily, though you pretend you don’t see it. After a few heartbeats, your brother clears his throat and goes back to unscrewing the control panel.
“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks the boy, doubtful of his capabilities. When Dustin tells her no, she doubles down. “I mean, it’s taking a while, so–”
Dustin huffs at her. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”
“Don’t cuss at her.” You butt in, but Erica has already started back with her arguing. 
She claims that at the slow pace you’re going, Steve and Robin stand no chance, and her words make the nausea claw up your throat. Dustin notices the way you clutch at your stomach and he quickly tries to reason with Erica, maybe say that she’s wrong, but the girl only continues to talk. 
“I mean, we’ve made it about point-three miles in nine hours.” Erica looks down at her watch as she speaks, but her eyes almost swim with the numbers you assume she invisions in her mind. “Then we had to walk three hours down that tunnel, so I’d estimate ten miles back to the elevator, which should take us approximately twelve and a half days.”
You and Dustin look at each other, baffled. No way Erica managed to come up with those numbers all on her own. Sure, you’ve always secretly suspected that she was more intelligent than she let on, but Jesus. You can hardly remember the multiples of seven on a good day. 
“Did you just do all of that in your head?” Dustin asks her, eyes wide with astonishment.
Erica shrugs. “I’m good with numbers.”
“That’s an understatement,” you mumble under your breath, though you’re starting to feel more like yourself again. Dustin calls Erica a nerd, which she adamantly denies, and the light hearted conversation almost seems to draw you out of your state of shock, albeit slowly. 
Your brother lists off all the proof he has of Erica’s “nerdiness” and you listen, chuckling. The genuine offense on the girl’s face is hard not to laugh at, and when Dustin sees that it seems to be cheering you up, he doubles down on his efforts. 
“Fact number three: you love My Little Pony.” He holds up Erica’s backpack that has two ponies printed across it, which you snort at.
Erica crosses her arms defensively. “And what does My Little Pony have to do with this?”
“Let’s recall the ponies’ latest adventure, shall we?” Dustin clears his throat and begins retelling the tales of the ponies, and you cannot believe that your fourteen year old brother still watches the show and pays enough attention to understand its themes and narrative. “Ergo, My Little Pony is nerdy. Ergo, you, Erica, are a nerd.”
“Not to take sides,” you poke your head between the two kids. “But why do you know so much about the show, Dustin?”
“Because I’m a nerd.” He manages to get the control panel open and rips the wires out of it. Electric sparks fly as they disconnect and the fans behind you slowly come to a stop. “Now, let’s go, nerds.”
Erica glares at him before turning to you. “Do you watch My Little Pony, Y/N?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m not that pathetic. I read comics instead, like the mature seventeen year old I am.”
The girl rolls her eyes at you, entirely over you and your brother, and starts crawling through the air ducts once more. As she leaves, Dustin stays behind. “Hey,”
His hand wraps around your arm and stops you from following Erica. You pause, confused as to what he may want. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” In the lighting, for just a moment, Dustin looks up at you and he’s the nine year old little boy who once feared you would get lost in your mother’s grief and father’s anger.
The last icy tendrils of shock melt, you come back to yourself when you hear your little brother’s fear for his sister. Taking Dustin’s hand into yours, you squeeze it. “Of course I’m okay. I have you.” 
Dustin laughs softly, relief evident within his exhale, and you yank his hat off of his head to break the remaining tension away. He lunges for it, betrayed, though he laughs again anyways, and for a few seconds it’s just the two of you giggling to yourselves as you fight over the hat. 
“Are you two shitbirds coming, or do I gotta kill those Commies on my own?” Erica shouts, now on the other side of the air duct.
With one last tug, Dustin tears the hat from your grasp and sticks his tongue out at you. “Last one to Erica owes the other $5!” He starts speed crawling towards the girl, giving you absolutely no chance of winning, and you hang your head in defeat and sigh.
The fucker owes you so much money already.
It takes hours.
Back aching and knees bruised, you crawl behind the kids in the seemingly endless maze that resides in the facility’s air ducts. It’s similar to the tunnels you walked through what feels like years ago originally, with Steve holding your hand through it all, though you know it couldn’t have been less than a day ago now.
The entire time, your mind doesn’t once quiet its concern for Steve and Robin. Just when the pounding in your head becomes splitting, Dustin stops you and Erica.
“Y/N, help me remove the vent.”
“Why, what’s up there?” You’re next to him, squinting through the grate’s small holes. All you see are what appear to be a line of vaults, though it’s hard to tell. “I don’t see anyone.”
Dustin starts prying at the vent. “Exactly, there’s no one up there and look, can’t you see it?”
You squint again, getting even closer to the holes to peer inside. Something glows bright green on one of the vault’s shelfs. “Is that…?”
“Uh huh. Now help me, will you?”
It takes a minute or so before you’re able to pry the vent open. Together, the two of you slowly lift your heads through the opening and look around. The room you’ve ended up in is empty. Along its walls are rows of vaults with multiple vials of the green chemicals you found in the elevator. 
You’re not entirely sure what your brother has in mind, but you know it can’t be anything good.
“Jackpot!” Dustin breathes out with newfound exhilaration. He climbs out of the air duct first and eagerly starts looking around while you help Erica out. 
The two kids look around in amazement, but you survey the area out of habit. It’s too quiet within the room. Being so close to the chemicals again leaves you on edge. “Stay close to me, we don’t know who could be nearby–”
“Oh!” Dustin abandons your caution in a heartbeat. He starts running down the steps, and when you see what’s gotten him so excited, you follow after him. There’s a cart right at the bottom of the stairs, parked to the side without anyone in it. 
It could be your ticket out of here, if you’re lucky.
“Do you even know how to drive?” Erica teases Dustin, but you step past her and join him to inspect the vehicle. 
He waves an indifferent hand at her. “How hard can it be? Max did it.”
“That was the worst car ride of my life” You shiver at the memory. The taste of blood fills your mouth and you can almost feel the bruises again. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus. “Think you could hotwire this?”
Dustin furrows his brows and ducks his head under the wheel. He shuffles around, mumbling to himself, before he curses. “No, it’s one of those fancy, expensive carts. Which is goddamn ironic for people who hate wealth. We need a key.”
“Okay, that’s not how Communism necessarily works–”
“Did you two seriously think they’d leave keys in there?” Erica interrupts you, cutting straight to the point as she always does. 
Dustin starts digging around the cart now. He checks the mirror compartment, under the seat, wherever his hands can reach. “There’s gotta be a spare…” When he comes up with nothing, he shoves you out of the cart. “Go and look inside the vault room.”
“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt.” Though you do as you’re told, trusting that the room is secure enough to leave him and Erica alone for a few minutes as you look.
There are vials everywhere, but no signs of a spare key. You wander the rows, the green liquid glows ominously. Drawing your face closer to one of the vials, the liquid bubbles in its glass container. This small, inconspicuous vial is what melted cement back at the elevator.
An idea comes to you. 
“Dustin,” you call over your shoulder, eyes still on the chemical. “What if we grabbed some of these vials and used them as some kind of weapon? I mean, it’s some pretty powerful stuff.” No one responds, which you frown at. It’s then that you realize it’s become suspiciously quiet, and with your heartbeat in your throat, you run back towards the kids. 
You find Dustin with spare keys in his hand, a proud smile on his face. “Found ‘em.”
“I’m going to start making you pay me every time you give me a goddamn heart attack.” A hand rests against your chest as you try to lower your heart rate. “I mean, this just can’t be good for me–”
A loud, spine tingling crack of electricity zaps behind you.
Screaming, you jump at the noise and into Dustin’s side. You both turn around, coming face to face with a giant electric prod held by a smiling Erica. 
“What the hell is that?” Dustin shouts at her, fear still in his voice. 
“A deadly weapon.” She zaps it again and the sound is deafening. “Could be useful.”
Both hands on your chest now, you hunch over and try to not to have a heart attack right then and there. “You kids are going to kill me one day.” You swallow, take a deep breath. “God, why can’t we stick with knives? They’re quiet, quaint. Not at all terrifying.”
“Knives against Commies? I thought you wanted to save your boyfriend, Y/N.” Erica swings the prod as she speaks and you hold your hands up.
“Let’s not swing that around, okay? The last thing I need today is to be electrocuted by that thing.” When she lowers the prod, you continue. “But…  you should keep it. It’ll be useful for saving Steve and Robin.”
Dustin steps in front of you. “Wait a minute, aren’t you always lecturing me about being realistic? We don’t even know where they are.”
“And aren’t you always lecturing me about putting the party first?” You can’t believe that Dustin isn’t tearing the place apart to find Steve. “We can’t just leave them here. No way you think I’d let you do that.”
“But there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that!” He points at Erica’s electric prod. He starts walking towards the cart, keys in hand, and beckons you to get inside it as well. “Admit it, the best thing we can do for them is get out of here and find help. Our chance of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially.”
“No.” You don’t step foot in the cart.
“Just trust me on this.” Dustin tries to get you into the cart, but you plant your feet on the ground and refuse to move. “Y/N, please don’t be difficult right now.”
“I said no.” Your voice hardens. Dustin has never been one to back away from a challenge, and yet here he is. Accepting defeat and leaving Steve and Robin to suffer the consequences of it. You’ve always been the first to stand behind realism, to denounce insane ideas and stunts that the party always manages to get itself into, but this time it’s different. 
Somewhere within these walls, your friends are facing unimaginable terrors. They sacrificed themselves to save you and the kids. Once again, Steve Harrington has saved your life.
And you’ve always evened out your debts to him. 
“We’re going to look for them.” You walk back into the vault room and start grabbing vial after vial of chemicals. There’s an air of authority in your demeanor, daring the kids to argue with you. You’re taking control now after being numb for so long. Dustin follows you, tries to argue, but you continue grabbing vials from the shelves as a plan forms in your head. “We are going to grab as many of these as we can, load them up into the cart, and then drive around this shithole until we find our friends.”
You shove the vials into Dustin’s arms. He blinks at you, this is the most clear headed he’s seen you since descending down in the elevator. Marching back towards the cart, you place your own vials down. “Then, we are going to use whatever chemical this is to cause a distraction. We’ll melt something, maybe cause a fire. I don’t give a shit what we do. All I know is that we are going to then save our friends and get the fuck out of this hellscape. Do I make myself clear?”
Dustin and Erica stare at you, jaws slacked, both now sitting in the cart. Taking their silence as a yes, you nod, pleased. “Fantastic. Now, my dear brother, start driving or I will. Either way: we’re leaving.”
He gulps and tightens his hands on the steering wheel. When you’ve settled into the back of the vehicle, he starts the cart. “Let’s go, then.”
As Dustin drives, Erica twists in her seat to look at you. She’s impressed, albeit still slightly terrified. “Have you always been so scary?”
“Yes. I just hide it well. Makes it more useful when I need it.” 
– 
You’ve just finished counting the vials when Erica seems to decide now is an appropriate time to ask invasive questions. 
“So what do you see in that hair guy?”
“You mean Steve?” Although, you suppose that hair guy is a pretty good indicator for him.
Erica nods. “Yeah, I just don’t understand how someone like him could impress you. He wears a sailor’s uniform and flings ice cream all day long.”
You’re oddly touched by this, though her description of Steve makes you sad. He’s so much more than just some guy who scoops ice cream. He’s brave, selfless, sensitive, and kind. “Don’t give me too much credit. There’s a lot you don’t know about Steve.”
She makes a disgusted face. “Yuck. It sounds like you love the guy.”
Dustin cringes and looks disgusted as well. He doesn’t want to hear his sister waxing and waning about his friend. “Can we not talk about that right now?”
Erica pinches his side, causing him to nearly crash the cart into the wall. “I’m an inquisitive person and clearly they’re in love. Y/N almost bit your head off when you suggested abandoning him.”
“Okay, I didn’t suggest abandoning him.”
“It’s just the facts!”
They argue, forgetting that you’re there. However, you need the distraction, and talking about Steve has always made you feel braver than you really are. A smile spreads across your face when you think about him. The words spill from your mouth without any effort. “I do love Steve.”
Dustin’s arguing fades away. His eyes meet yours in the cart’s rearview mirror. He already knew that you loved Steve, but to hear you say it, to see the blush that invades your face whenever you talk about him, it makes everything more real. Guilt washes over him. He wanted you to leave the boy you love behind. 
“Look,” Dustin sighs. He needs to get this off of his chest. “I’m sorry about telling you to leave Steve and–”
A scream echoes within the hall. It’s feminine, familiar. 
“Robin,” your stomach twists. She’s alive. And close. She has to be close if you can hear her screams. You grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Go!” 
He slams on the gas and the cart picks up speed. Rounding the corner, he brakes harshly and you’re in yet another hallways. It’s silent, there isn’t anyone there. You close your eyes, you’re close. You can feel it, but you can’t locate them if you don’t know where they are. 
“C’mon, Robin, “ you plead. “Help us find you.”
Another scream, this time it sounds even closer.
“That way!” Erica points left, and there’s no time to doubt if she’s right. The three of you jump out the cart and grab the chemicals. Dustin also grabs the electric prod, and then you all start running. 
Robin screams again, and this time you can place which door it comes from. Adrenaline rushes through you. You have to work fast. At the end of the hall you see what looks to be an alarm switch on the wall. It wasn’t a part of your plan earlier, but it’ll have to do.
“Erica, go to the switch down there. When I say go, you press it. Alright?” She nods at you, quickening her pace. You turn to Dustin next, grabbing the vials from him. “Get the prod ready. I’ll throw the vials.”
When you get to the door that separates you from Robin, you press your ear against it. Voices are muffled, but still Steve's voice comes through as well. Your heart jumps. He’s with her. He’s alive as well. 
Erica stands at the end of the hall and you hold your palm up, signaling her to wait. Looking at Dustin, he nods at you and holds the prod to his chest. Taking a deep breath, you start throwing the vials harshly against the floor.
You use all the anger within you to guide what little strength you have left. The anger drives you, it propels the vials, it shatters them. The chemicals spill everywhere. The cement floor begins to erode away, sizzling. After you’ve thrown your last one, you shout to Erica, “Now!”
Alarms sound overhead. Erica runs back towards you and you shove the kids behind a barrel. Within seconds the hallway fills with Russian guards and they swarm around the melted floor, but you keep your eyes on the door. Silently you beg for your plan to work. The door has to open, whoever is inside has to come and investigate the damage you’ve caused. 
An agonizing three seconds pass. Sweat drips down your face. Then, a man comes crashing out of the door. He marches down the hallway and disappears when he turns the corner. As soon as he’s gone, Dustin slams through the door. There’s a man dressed in doctor’s scrubs within the room, but your brother attacks him with the prod and knocks him out quickly.
Erica and Dustin stand over the unconscious man. They’re surprised the plan has worked. Yet all you see is Steve. 
Everything else fades away. He’s tied to a chair, his face is bleeding. You run towards him, uncaring about whatever else may be in the room. A whole fucking army of Russians could be standing next to you right now and you still wouldn’t spare them a single glance. 
“Oh, honey.” The sentiment drips from your lips as your knife cuts through the rope that binds him. You’re so fucking relieved that he’s okay, that Robin is as well. But there’s so much blood. In your periphery you see a tray with a bone saw on it. 
“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?”
Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!” 
“Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”
Dustin starts to help you untie Steve. “Get ready to run.” He instructs them with a firm voice. However, Robin and Steve continue to laugh. As if this is all one big joke to them. 
They almost seem… drunk. 
But there isn’t time to ask any questions. Any minute now the guards will return. You cut the last rope that’s tied around Robin and ask Erica if she can carry her. They’re too loopy to walk straight, you’ll need to help Dustin carry Steve back to the cart.
It takes a lot of yelling, slapping Steve’s hand away from your face as you struggle to drag his limp body to the cart, more bribes for Robin than you ever would’ve imagined, but miraculously you get the two idiots into the cart parked outside. 
As soon as they’re secured in the back with you, Dustin steps on the gas and you leave the Russians behind.
“Tried promising you I’d come home, angel.” Steve is sprawled on your lap. His eyes are cloudy, he isn’t quite here with you. 
“You didn’t have to say anything. I knew you’d promise me.” You reassure him. Carefully, you brush hair out of his face and you inspect his wounds. The cuts don’t look too deep, but you’re worried he might have yet another concussion. Thankfully, however, the blood has already started to scab over. The worst of it is over, and yet your heart still constricts when you remember that he’s injured because of you. “My poor, sweet honey.”
Steve closes his eyes and hums with content. “I love it when you call me honey.” He rolls onto his side now and nuzzles his bloodied face into your stomach. “Makes me feel special.”
Your fingers find his hair, careful to avoid any bumps and heart swelling at what he’s said. Clearing your throat, you look to Robin who is on your other side. You start checking her over as well. She isn’t as battered as Steve is, though a bruise is forming on her cheek. 
When she sees you looking at her, she winks. “I lived!”
“You did,” you squeeze her hand and her head falls against your shoulder. She lets out her own content sigh, and you play with her hair as well. They’re still with you. Still whole and alive.
With Steve and Robin safely wrapped around you, you can finally rest.
-
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lazywriters-blog · 3 months
Text
Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.
Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.
Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.
Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.
So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.
Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.
Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.
He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.
He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.
He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.
He might resort to desperate measures.
So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.
But something is still holding her back.
"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.
"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.
"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."
"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.
"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.
Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.
"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.
"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.
She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.
But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.
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rageserenity · 6 months
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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arienotari · 9 months
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
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jnnul · 1 year
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a/n: oh my god. it's finished. i've finally written all of her. i genuinely don't know how to explain the relief i feel right now. it feels strange writing this after writing and healing myself through writing this. i hope that anyone in college who's feeling the way y/n or jaehyun did knows that you can and will grow from it. heartbreak is inevitable and so is growth. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
word count: 20k
tags: college au!, frat boy!jaehyun x girlboss!y/n, honestly it just a dissertation about modern love and how people nowadays love each other, there's a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also explicit mentions of oral sex, uhhh foreplay and sex
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HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.
because if it wasn't for his dick, which you were sure is just as perfect as the rest of his stupid self, you wouldn't be awake at inhumane hours, listening to your friend recount their sexcapades.
"oh my god, and then he did this thing with his tongue and i swear, i'm literally never going to be able to have oral again. he's fucking ruined me. i'm genuinely going to just make every guy i fuck put a jaehyun mask on from now onwards just to recreate it," sia yoo, unfortunately one of your best friends, quips dreamily. she yelps when roseanne park, your roommate and singular other voice of reason, throws a pillow at her.
"you sound like a fucking psycho. as in needs to be checked to a mental facility psycho. as in if i hadn't heard worse when you got with johnny suh, i'd be calling the cops right now psycho," roseanne says and easily ducks when sia winds up to throw the pillow back at her. fatima khan, sia's roommate and mother friend extraordinaire, pouts sympathetically with sia as the two of them turn to you as if you would fall on their side.
"sia, baby, honey, love and light of my life - i'm really sorry but i'm with rosie on this one," you say and sia puts on the most theatrical frown you she possibly could before she cocks her head curiously.
"rosie's got a reason for judging jaehyun since she doesn't even like men all that much. what's your excuse, y/n? you like men, judging by the way you were getting railed to next week by that freshie park seonghwa. you've never gotten dicked down by jaehyun."
you're half-tempted so tell sia that it's not fucking weird that you got with seonghwa, considering the fact that you're only a sophomore yourself but you're even more tempted to remind her that even though you were no stranger to a good time, you never recount your stories.
in fact, the only reason why the other three (well, you suppose rosie would know regardless given that you literally live with her) know about your sex life is because you choose to tell them whenever you felt like it. and usually, it was more than three days after the encounter.
you loved your friends, you really did - and sia was notorious for getting into one night stand rehash sessions at ungodly hours, so this was nothing new - but for some reason, every time jaehyun's name came up in the conversation, your skin would prickle with irritation.
maybe it was the fact that every single person around you seemed to be infatuated with him. or the fact that he was just so effortlessly good at capturing the attention of everyone in the room, no matter where he was.
or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you knew that if you looked too closely into the deep end, you'd fall right in with no life jacket. and jaehyun was an endless ocean.
+++
maybe you had given jaehyun too much credit, you lament. maybe jung jaehyun's as deep as a fucking kiddie pool. you know you're wrong because you were in the same english literature class and the man had been published because the professor liked his prose so much, she had submitted it to a literary journal.
and they had accepted it.
but as you stare at him across the lecture hall, burning holes into the poor guy's skull, you sure think he's stupid. because there was no way in fresh hell that jung jaehyun was in an introduction to east asia class. as a south korean.
people begin settling into their seats as you mull over the possibility that jaehyun had fucked so much, his brain had fallen out through his dick. from the stories of his more than above average size, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility.
just as you're send a very judgmental text to fatima, who was supposed to be taking the class with you but had had to switch last minute when one of her major required classes opened up, jaehyun gets out of his seat to stand at the front of the room, next to the professor.
you realize belatedly that the people jaehyun had been so animatedly speaking to were none other than bambam and ten - two people who most definitely were in this class. and of course, they had chosen this class over all the others because oh my god, jung jaehyun is the uta for this class.
in hindsight, it makes sense, given that jaehyun is a east asian studies minor and a stellar fucking student. but it doesn't make the text you were about to send fatima any less humiliating as you realize your attempts to undermine his character were desperately failing. you try to backtrack on your phone, deleting the winding paragraph you were about to send her when your thumb slips, accidentally sending a half written message.
you: jaehyun is fucking
you're sure the statement will be true within the next couple hours (the jung bed at the nct frat never seemed to stay empty for too long - and that was just from orientation week last week) but it felt almost blasphemous that you would send a text so crude to your friend when you insisted that you couldn't stand his guts.
or what lay between them, really.
three gray dots appear on your screen as you half-heartedly listen to your professor drone on about how he went to china, became a changed man, and now taught about the wonders of east asia and its exoticism. his name was paul but the class could refer to him by his 'enlightened name' - lao ma. even jaehyun rolls his eyes behind the professor's back as all of the asian kids in the classroom begin to eye each other warily.
if this class wasn't so easy, you're sure the population would've shrunk to a quarter its size based on the weirdness of the professor on its own. or maybe not, if it meant that people got to stare at jaehyun's gorgeous face for an hour and a half every monday morning.
mommy tima 🤍: honey, i think whatever sia's got going is contagious. mommy tima 🤍: aren't you the one who hates him? mommy tima 🤍: he really lives in your mind rent free, huh.
you scoff under your breath as you type furiously, vaguely registering that you definitely need to check the syllabus for this class later because you have not been listening to a word the professor has said this whole time.
you: first sia's got cooties or a raging std that's what she's got going you: second he's my fucking uta you: as in i am going to be forced to see his face for an entire semester mommy tima 🤍: drop the class then, babe. you: can't this is too good for my gpa & the prof's a freak you: it's a gpa cushion and a circus in one go
you tuck your phone away when you see that jaehyun is coming up the aisle on your side with a packet while the professor is on the other aisle on the other side with the same packet to hand out. jaehyun probably wouldn't care that you had your phone out during lecture (syllabus week was just an excuse for college kids to get drunk during school days anyway) but it was the principle of the thing.
"here you go - oh, it's stuck together," jaehyun says as he stops at where you're sitting. his tongue slips out as he thumbs at the packet to give you one instead of three and suddenly, your treacherous brain takes you back to sia's rambling the night before.
and then he did this thing with his tongue...
you're shaken back to reality when you realize that you're staring at a blank wall, with a pink packet in front of you, and jaehyun has already reached the back of the classroom.
fuck. shit. bitch.
jaehyun had seen you stare at his stupidly handsome face and then some. he was your ta. oh my god, what if he docked points on some test because he thought you were the creepy stalker type.
damn you, sia yoo, you curse in your head.
+++
"damn you, sia yoo!" you yell over the blaring music that's so loud, you can feel the vibrations in your skull. there absolutely no reason you should be caught dead in a frat on the friday of syllabus week but sia had made it her mission to make sure you had a going out rate of at least 80% this school year, given that you were prone to trying to skip out on weekends out last year.
not that you didn't like going out - you actually really liked going out with your friends. you just took a little more inertia to get to the energy levels of actually going on.
sia just nods at you lazily as she bounces to the beat of another shitty remix of 'what you came for' by calvin harris and rihanna. you never understood why frats always found the worst remixes of classic party bangers but anything flew after you had enough alcohol in your system so the music would recede to the depths of your mind in a couple cups of whatever the fuck this drink was.
especially since you were a full sunshine drunk; whenever you were drunk, you became the life of the party and would always be found in the center of the room, regardless of the music. sia was a flirty drunk and you really couldn't remember the last time sia actually spent the entire weekend in her own bed. props to her stamina, honestly.
rosie was a mix of you and sia in that she would become so much more bubbly but the second she found someone she wanted to spend the night with, she went after them with no hesitation.
fatima usually played the role of sober mommy when you all went out. although she was never one to miss out on a good time, when she did get drunk, she much preferred it to be within the confines of the four walls that she shared with her roommate and the people she trusted the most - you, rosie, and sia.
which is why when rosie abandons you for her on again, off again fuck buddy (miyeon cho) and her fuck buddy (yugyeom kim), you're not surprised at all.
"that's going to be an interesting story in the morning," you say, nodding to where rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom are all heading upstairs together. fatima nudges you to look at sia, where she's pressed up against none other than johnny suh (or the love of her life, prior to jaehyun, apparently).
"that's going to be an interesting story in the afternoon," fatima counters. you turn to her with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question the timing. "i don't think i've ever heard of a girl leaving johnny's bed before 3 o'clock the next afternoon."
your jaw hangs in shock as you watch your friend wrap her arms around the tall man's neck, whispering something into his ear when he bends down to kiss her collarbone.
"are all of the nct boys secretly porn stars or something? how can they all be that good in bed?" you gape, waving at sia when she turns around to wink at you and fatima as her and johnny are bustling out of the door, undoubtedly to the nct frat house.
"they test us as part of rushing," says a low, velvety voice behind you. a hot rush of shame runs up your spine for two reasons: a) you were able to recognize jung jaehyun just from his voice and b) he heard you gossiping about his frat brothers' sexual prowess.
you exchange a look with fatima before whipping around to meet jaehyun eye to eye. he's wearing a plain black t-shirt and lightwash distressed jeans but he might as well be wearing designer trash bags for all you care. what you do care about, unfortunately, is the almost slutty way his v-neck dips to show off the beginnings of the planes of his chest.
you feel no better than a victorian man and it takes fatima a poorly concealed cough to break you out of your thoughts. fuck, you'd done it again. you really needed to stop getting caught up in jung jaehyun's pretty face. and body. and that stupid smile.
"haha. very funny. sounds like something straight out of a cheesy porno sponsored by viagra or something," you say, rolling your eyes. smooth. very smooth. normally, you like to think that you're proficient in the witty banter department but something about this boy made you almost feel dumb about your comebacks.
jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, and you're distinctly made aware that even with platform sneakers on, jaehyun is a good head taller than you when you have to look upwards to notice the motion. "you seem to be well versed, y/n. you make it a habit to stay up to date?"
you flush at the thinly veiled euphemism at your x-rated movie watching habits before clearing your throat. "i'm more of a fan of practical study, really. i am a scientist, after all."
you're aware that fatima has slipped away from you to talk to another friend, park jeonghwa, and also the fact that you are slowly beginning your descent into drunkenness but you can't seem to bring yourself to find the caution in it all. it's just jaehyun, after all.
jaehyun hums, bringing the solo cup in his hand to his lips to take a swig. "you're a biomedical engineering major, aren't you?"
you balk at that. "wait, wait. you know my name and my major?"
jaehyun nods slowly, seemingly stumbling for a moment before he gains his self-confidence once more. "you don't know mine?"
"you're literally my ta. i know you're an east asian studies minor and your name because you told the class," you say, recovering quickly. it was a really good thing you were a quick thinker because you were lying through your teeth.
you knew jaehyun's name, minor, and even major (computer science) because of his notorious reputation, not because he was your ta. but the last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of asserting his popularity on campus.
"anyway. what was that you were saying about 'practical study'?" jaehyun's eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the cramped basement you were in and you had a feeling that if you were any more inebriated, you'd be diving headfirst into jung jaehyun's bed as long as he looked at you like that.
but fortunately (unfortunately?) you're sober enough to make mostly intelligent decisions - which just means that you're not going to jump headfirst. maybe feet first but not headfirst.
"wouldn't you like to know," you sing-song, leaning into jaehyun's body enough to smell the mix of woody pine, fresh water, and vodka that seems to emanate from him. jaehyun watches you as you lean over him to grab another solo cup from the assortment that some lower ranked frat brother had been forced into bartending.
you down the entire drink in two swigs, patting away the stray stream of alcohol that had dripped down onto your chest. you don't notice the way jaehyun's eyes follow your hand down its descent to your chest. but you finally feel like your element, and in a moment of sheer idiocy and liquid courage, you enter the growing throng of bodies behind you, beckoning jaehyun to follow you.
you're not 100% sure what you want from him, honestly. you want to have a good time, and you're sure you'll have one with or without him. but something about the way jaehyun follows you like a puppy into the mess of people makes you feel like a zap of electricity has hit your body.
and if you're being completely honest with yourself (as you usually only are with ethanol in your system), you really didn't hate jaehyun. you had no qualms with him as a person, even if you hated the consequences that came with a night with him.
it's when you're in the middle of the crowd, with jaehyun looking at you with those hooded eyes and hands tucked into his pockets when you realize what you want from jaehyun jung.
you want him to desire you the way that his mere presence makes people desire him.
so you do what you do best and just let go. it's ric flair drip by metro boomin that's playing - a song that's definitely not the one to get down to. but the bass fills you up in a way that never hits the same outside of a sweaty frat basement so you can't even bring yourself to care.
"i'm tryna fuck you and your bestie," you sing along with the near hundred people surrounding you. jaehyun is still looking at you with an eyebrow sitting higher and an appraising expression; something that somehow manages to get under your skin.
in a moment of passion, you manage to hook your fingers into one of jaehyun's belt loops, pulling him closer to you. you're aware that you've painted yourself to be jaehyun's next conquest if the way that the girls next to you look upset means anything, but you couldn't care less.
especially when you're this close to the bane of your existence. the song switches to something a little more what you need (under the influence by chris brown) and you look up at jaehyun through your lashes and in that moment, jaehyun knows what you're offering him through your gaze.
a challenge.
+++
jaehyun never really meant to take on the role of nct's resident whore. in fact, jaehyun had been planning on doing the exact opposite when he came to college.
although it was unbelievable now, jaehyun jung had originally just been a very strange, nerdy, and sweet boy. he never got up to much trouble, kept to himself most of the time, and was known for...nothing, really. he was sweet and bubbly but he wasn't exactly running with the popular crowd.
in fact, jaehyun was kinda forgotten all throughout his schooling. it was easy to forget about jaehyun, as though he were some visage in a dream that everyone shared.
it hurt.
so when jaehyun finally hit his growth spurt in senior year, started going to the gym, and his voice no longer cracked every other sentence, he felt like a whole new person. like he was finally the main character in his own life.
it felt so fucking good to look at the same girls who had smiled at him pitifully and have them melting under a single wink. the summer between high school and college had been wild, with more stories than jaehyun could really even care to keep track of.
but when college began, jaehyun was fully intending to return to flying under the radar with his new upgrade in personality, appearance, and wardrobe. with a face like his, however, doing so was about as easy as trying to pass professor yoon's intro to bio class - nearly impossible.
slowly but surely, jaehyun morphed back into the personality he had adopted that summer and surprisingly, it wasn't as foreign as he thought. he was still a good student and wasn't a stranger to having to skip out on hanging out with his friends to study.
but having a new girl in his bed every other day? that was definitely new. a new revelation, but a welcome one nonetheless.
and in that, jaehyun was used to people using all sorts of tactics to get with him. playing hard to get, with coy smiles and flirtatious winks. or the bold ones, who told him straight up that they wanted to spend the night with him. even the downright horrifying ones who tried to pretend like they were blackout drunk in hopes that that would 'attract' him. spoiler alert? it didn't.
jaehyun originally thought you were of the 'hard to get' caliber. the type of girl to say that she wasn't like other girls and that's why he should get with her instead. so initially, when he approached you at the party after seeing you in his class, he was mentally preparing himself for the whole pick me speech.
but it was something about the way you looked at him.
it was like two halves of your mind were battling against each other. on one hand, you looked like you wanted to fax jaehyun straight into the fiery pits of hell with high speed shipping. on the other, it also seemed like you wanted nothing more than to ride him until the sun came up. mixed with a little bit of curiosity, confusion, and downright anger with yourself for all the emotions, you looked like the perfect cocktail of firebrand that jaehyun couldn't help but become intrigued by.
so when you were laughingly talking to your best friend (jaehyun's frat brother kun was half in love with fatima, which meant that jaehyun was more than well acquainted with her) about him and frat brothers, he took it to be the opportunity he needed.
and when you're looking at him like this, daring him to make a move, almost as if to make your mind fall one way or another about drawing a conclusion on him, what is jaehyun to do but to make good on the challenge you've offered?
he watches you for a moment more, trying to commit the memory of what you look like when you're this carefree and happy, before taking the micro-step it takes to get so close he can smell the citrus and apple cider that you seem to always smell like.
"i promise you i can fuck you better than johnny," jaehyun says, a corner of his lips tilted up as your eyes flutter the closer he draws.
"johnny's your 'bestie'?" you say, and jaehyun can tell that the last threads of your resolve are starting to snap by the way that your hand is now pressed against his chest.
"that's what you're curious about right now? the dynamics of the nct frat brothers?" jaehyun asks but he knows that this back and forth is exactly you need right now; the time to decide if you can take the plunge. or if jaehyun's worth your time tonight.
"as i mentioned, i'm a scientist," you say, and even as your voice stays stable, your fingers seem to leave burning trails against jaehyun's skin as they dip and feed into crevices of jaehyun's body that he didn't even know existed.
"hmm," jaehyun manages to eke out when your fingers lace into his hair. he's not sure how you manage to find every single sensitive spot he has but he's fairly impressed by the way you catch his breath hitching as you work your other hand up as well.
"hmm? cat got your tongue, jaehyun?" you say, making sure that jaehyun looks straight into your eyes as you lean impossibly closer. "you know that sia's with johnny right now, right? girls talk - especially with your best friends. which means that if you can't make good on your promise, i will find out."
jaehyun feels like he's sweating like a pig but thankfully, you don't notice, too busy making him sweat. he clears his throat once, and then twice to make sure that his voice doesn't give out.
"that right?" he says, and you roll your eyes, letting go of him and stepping back. you seem to appraise him for a moment (and jaehyun is unnaturally nervous about what you will decide) before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. you only pause to flag down fatima, who takes one look at your intertwined hands, and waves the two of you away.
jaehyun blushes like a schoolgirl at the way fatima flashes him a catty smile.
"i swear to god, jaehyun, if you're all talk and no game - or if you're gonna sit still and look pretty the whole time - i will literally blue ball you. i don't do pillow princes," you throw over your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the nct frat. jaehyun knows for a fact that the nct frat will not be a quiet place tonight by the number of dresses and pants he sees in the foyer and leading the way up the stairs.
he says nothing, even as you're quite nearly storming up the stairs with a certain level of urgency, almost as though if you were to slow down and think about just exactly what you're doing, you'd turn around and leave right now.
jaehyun definitely can't let that happen.
so the second that he gets you into his bedroom (he had to rock, paper, scissors with doyoung to get the room tonight), he shuts the door and locks it behind him. he turns around to see you looking between the two beds, as if trying to guess which one was jaehyun's.
he mentally pats himself on the back when he sees the fresh sheets on the bed. reaching where you stand in less than a stride, jaehyun turns you so that you're facing his bed, and you squirm to turn to meet his eyes even as his hands are on your waist.
"what is with your hands?" you ask harshly and jaehyun blinks as he looks down.
"what do you mean? they're on your waist," jaehyun says softly, and once again, he's hit with a wave of citrus and apple cider. you simper at him, grabbing his wrist and moving it incriminatingly downwards.
"what am i? a virgin? put them somewhere useful." you whisper the last part and it's as though jaehyun has just woken up.
"you know," jaehyun begins, sliding his other hand downwards to sit comfortably on the curve of your ass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were trying to rile me up. i wonder..."
he doesn't finish his thought, instead pulling you close so that your hips are pressed against his. he can hear the gasp that you're desperately trying to conceal, coughing uselessly to the side. a devilish smirk grows on jaehyun's lips and for the first time in a long time, you're sure you're going to be up all night.
+++
you were, in fact, trying to rile him up. you had heard all the rumors about jaehyun and johnny, about how one night with them was like one night in heaven. hell, you'd had first hand accounts from sia yoo about exactly what it's like to be in bed with either of them - multiple times.
so when jaehyun had fronted with such a cautious attitude when he realized what you wanted, you were almost offended. if you wanted to take control and fuck a man's brains out, you could do that with anyone. why would you fight against your own mind this much to get with him?
but seonghwa park. changkyun im. even kun qian, before you discovered he was head over heels for fatima. jung jaehyun.
these were all people who put you in your place. the way you wanted to be. it just seemed as though jaehyun might've needed a little more persuasion to get there.
so yes, you were riling him up. was that such a crime?
by the way jaehyun's looking at you right now, his breath hot and heavy on your neck and his eyes dark with a feeling that you can't describe but resonates with you on a deeper, more primal level.
"you know, after you got with kun, he wouldn't shut up about it for a week," jaehyun says, pressing kisses down your neck, pausing when he reaches your breastbone. he eyes your corset top with a discerning eye before reaching behind you to pull the lace strings that were precariously holding your top for a week.
"yeah?" you ask, threading your fingers through jaehyun's thick hair as he makes quick work of your top, leaving it pooled on the floor as his lips find your chest as though he couldn't be physically parted from it.
"yeah. even after he met fatima, he said that you were the best he's ever had - that's a big reputation to live up to when you're in nct," jaehyun says, his voice breathy and deep as he walks you backwards so that the back of your knees hit the frame of his bed.
"hmm. what can i say? i know what i want and what i want is usually lots of fun," you say, letting jaehyun unzip your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off when jaehyun moves too slowly.
"i know. god, after knowing that you and kun were going at it, i swear everyone was jerking off in their room for an hour. even winwin wanted to go for you today. you're an unpredictable woman; no one knows where and when you're going to show up to one of the parties so everyone has to take their chances when they get them," jaehyun says, tugging his shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind him carelessly.
you nearly melt when you see jaehyun's uncovered top, eyeing each and every hard ridge of his body, reaching out to touch him. his chest is almost soothingly warm as your fingers memorize each and every aspect of the planes of his chest, almost worried that they might disappear if you let go.
jaehyun looks at you amusingly as he lets your fingers dance across his body, focusing on tugging your panties off to discard them where he's sure he's going to have to search for them later on.
you pout when you see the difference in clothing but jaehyun just gently pushes you backwards so that your back is against his bed, leaving your pussy exposed in away that makes you feel absolutely mortified. you move to gain some level of privacy back but jaehyun is too fast, gripping onto your thighs incriminatingly as he raises an eyebrow.
"don't think that i'm soft just because i'm being nice to you now, pretty girl. i know you don't like to listen but don't hide from me. i will not let you have any fun if you try to hide from me," jaehyun says, his voice dropping a full octave. you suppress the shiver that runs through your body (and that simultaneously delights jaehyun) as you nod softly.
he seems satisfied by the way your body melts and rewards you for your submission by licking a wet strip up your pussy, one hand snaking up to touch your nipple while the other one keeps your thighs open.
jaehyun is slow at first, exploring each and every hidden crevice of your body but as he feels you get wetter and wetter, he can't seem to stay soft for too long. he continues to press his lips against yours but the moment you try to grind your hips against his lips, he pulls away, his tongue darting out to taste your essence on him.
you almost whine at the loss of his hot mouth on your pussy, and you're embarrassed to realize that in front of jaehyun jung, you are no better than your best friend in falling in love with the way he moves.
"you're not going to cum from my tongue, baby," jaehyun says, practically ripping the belt out from where it was caging his jeans. "especially when i know that your pussy is magic."
"you say that, jaehyun, but you're being so fucking soft. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're in love with me," you snort, trying to catch your breath. jaehyun freezes from where his boxers are hanging so low on his hips, you can see the muscles in his pelvis tense angrily as he looks at you dangerously.
"my fucking bad for making sure you're wet enough to take me," jaehyun whispers, pulling close to you. his eyes turn even darker than usual and a small spark of excitement ignites in your chest when you realize that you've finally reached it - jaehyun's breaking point.
"sounds like you're scared, jaehyun. you know what? you know why kun was so good? because he wasn't scared. he wasn't scared to fuck me like he was trying to break the bed," you retort, and saying kun's name is when jaehyun finally snaps. he tears his boxers off as he pushes you so that you're further up on his bed.
"y/n, i'm not fucking joking around. if you want me to stop, say it now. just say the word, and i'll pretend like this never happened. because i swear to every god in existence, if you let me, i'll ruin every other man for you," jaehyun says and his knuckles turn white from how hard his clenching his fingers to keep himself from pouncing. the thought is almost cute if you weren't desperate to be fucked into next week.
"if i wanted you to stop, i wouldn't have said kun's name, would i?"
that's all it takes. no sooner do the words leave your mouth, jaehyun's on top of you, every inch of his body fighting to claim yours. he's not sure what it is about being with a bratty girl but every time a girl tries to challenge him, jaehyun can feel his excitement grow as his mind runs wild with ways to prove you wrong.
and with a girl as beautiful and sexy as you? he was going to have the time of his life.
time of his life he does.
+++
when jaehyun wakes up, he's almost happy. almost because he has bruises on his hips from how hard he had pounded into you, a litter of hickeys across his chest, and freshly washed hair from when you had enticed him into taking a shower with you.
inevitably, it led to another hour in the shower that jaehyun had spent having his soul sucked out from his dick, eating you out under the shower, and seeing you cum twice just from his tongue.
if only he had woken up with you still in his bed, jaehyun would've actually been happy.
realistically, jaehyun had no clue what he was expecting. after taking a shower, it had taken you a total of five minutes to fall asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but jaehyun's oversized t-shirt and your panties.
there was no pillowtalk, no heart to hearts, nothing. no discussions of having whatever happened last night happening again. no trying to get to know each other better.
not that you had ever been obligated to do so. if anything, jaehyun was far more obligated to do so, after practically declaring that he had wanted to get with you since last semester - which he had been completely serious about.
but with his reputation, regardless of what he had said last night, jaehyun's almost 100% sure that you would've disappeared by the morning.
he's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the bright pink post-it note on his neatly folded shirt on his desk in the corner of the room.
9.5/10. if you see sia, tell her she was right about your tongue. see you in intro to east asia on monday.
jaehyun's half disappointed and half happy. disappointed because you'd never left your number or anything and happy because at least he knew that you weren't going to completely avoid him whenever you ran into each other next.
he shakes his head as he folds the post-it note and throws it in the trash can next to his desk.
jaehyun jung may not have started college with the intention of becoming the resident fuckboy but he still had a reputation to maintain. he had fucked countless women over his time at sm university and he had no intention of falling for any of them.
he was not about to get soft-hearted or soft-dicked by a girl he was with once.
even if she was really good in bed. like really really good. like good enough to make him think about the other boys she's been with and if they'd made you feel as good as he did.
fuck. her. which jaehyun had already done. which meant that he needed to move onto the next step of the day before his head exploded with all of the implications flying around in his mind about their relation to each other (nonexistent) and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking of you (you weren't).
he pads out of his room, passing doyoung on the way out, who claps him on the back and says, "you finally got with y/n?" jaehyun doesn't know how doyoung knows but it strikes him that neither of you are very subtle people and you had caused quite the scene leaving with him last night.
similar reactions are offered to him by everyone he passes. he's not really sure how many of the boys you've been with but jaehyun can feel his street cred go up by at least a decameter with the way some of these pledges are looking at him.
in fact, everyone is looking at him with a new look of respect in their eyes until he reaches the kitchen, where yoo sia and johnny are sitting, practically eye-fucking.
jaehyun was very used to seeing johnny's friends in the kitchen the next day, neither of them ready to really say goodbye each other yet but for some reason, knowing that sia was your best friend and seeing her with johnny sets jaehyun's stomach into a series of knots that he was sure he was going to have to unravel when he had his head on straight.
"she already left?" sia says, finally breaking her stare from johnny's. jaehyun shrugs, digging around the fridge to see if they had any coffee. they didn't (none that wasn't expired anyway) so he has to settle for a caprisun.
"she had somewhere to be," jaehyun says. he wants to ask sia if it's normal for you to leave that early. it can't be if sia seems surprised that you'd left before the clock struck ten. what did that mean? what does that say about jaehyun? oh god. what if you hated it. what if you hated it so much that you didn't want to spend a second longer with jaehyun.
he cringes as he locks eyes with another shiny eyed pledge (jaehyun thinks his name is jungwoo) and tries to shake his head to clear any and all thoughts of you. he was pussydrunk. that was the only explanation. he just needed to dick down someone else and then he would get over whatever little infatuation thing he had going on.
"really? hmm..." sia says finally. jaehyun turns to see her looking right at him and suddenly, he's transported back to the previous weekend, when sia had been wrapped up in his sheets.
+++
"why did you start fucking around like this?" sia had asked, her chest still heaving from their previous illicit activities as she wraps herself tighter in jaehyun's sheets. jaehyun pauses for a moment as he catches his breath, pulling on his boxers as he thinks. he throws the shirt that sia's grabbing at, still not sure how to piece together his thoughts.
or why he wants to tell sia the truth. maybe it's because no one's ever asked about it before, but jaehyun feels strangely vulnerable as sia watches as he clambers back into his bed, her expression pensive and uncharacteristically wise.
"i don't know," jaehyun says honestly, laying over the covers as he feels his face grow hotter under sia's unrelenting stare. "i think it's because i wanted to know what it felt like. to know what it felt like to be wanted for a night instead of just being in the sidelines as the guy with the potential. just the guy that people brought along as the friend of the hot guys that kept him around."
sia doesn't say anything, instead turning so that she was lying on her back. jaehyun turns to look at her, to see if he could decipher some level of understanding from her silence. really, he knows that he should feel embarrassed about confessing his insecurities to a girl that he's hooked up with two or three times but he can't bring himself to for some reason.
maybe it's because he knows that she wouldn't say anything about it to anyone. or because he knows that she's head over heels for johnny, whether she'd admit it or not. or maybe it's just because for the first time, someone had asked something about jaehyun just to get to know him as a person, rather than trying to get him in their bed.
not that he really minded that - it just made him feel like it was all a lot more transactional than he was used to. he had been a romantic once upon a time. when you grew up with the nickname of 'valentine boy', it would have been stranger if he didn't have some sense of romance.
but jaehyun's penchant for romance disappeared almost just as soon as he realized that no one else was yearning for a pure type of love like he was.
and yet, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. turns out that jaehyun's a very adaptable man. if he wouldn't find love in this decade, then perhaps it would be lust that he would have to settle for.
"then again," he begins, gaze darting over to where sia had slipped on his t-shirt as she tiredly begins to settle down in his bed once more. "isn't that what everyone is doing nowadays? looking for a warm body for the night, instead of a genuine connection?"
sia snorts at that, turning so that she was facing jaehyun now. "don't tell me that you're one of the boomer types. the ones who always go around peacocking about how they were born in the wrong generation and that they're one of the 'good guys'. i might actually leave right now if you are."
"no, no i'm not. well. maybe a little bit. but i don't know why that's so bad to be honest," jaehyun acquiesces finally. sia rolls her eyes, but even she goes quiet for a moment. once again, jaehyun's reminded that this is sia yoo - a girl who routinely wakes up in someone else's sheets every saturday (although it was johnny's more often than not) and as sexist as it was, someone who carried a reputation for it. even jaehyun was surprised to find that she was such a deep conversationalist.
of course, he mentally berates himself soon after but he can't help the thought. for him, sia was just the girl he would get with a couple times. a good time. the fact that that's the only role she fulfilled in his mind made him feel disgusting inside out as he waits for her response, vowing that he would work to change his mindset. or maybe just change personalities altogether. ick.
"you know one of my best friends? y/n? the one who got with kun before he decided to go clean for fatima?" sia says with a careful tone. jaehyun nods, not trusting that he wouldn't say something dumb after his sudden realization of his flawed thinking.
"this is something she always says but it's honestly pretty simple: love is however you want to define it. humans spend so much trying to find labels and definitions for things that just might not have or need them. for such an advanced species, we spend so much time concerned about how to put a feeling into a box or how to classify a thought instead of rejoicing in the fact that we had such a beautiful feeling in the first place."
"for people in this generation, the old school love is hard to find because they've got so many other types of love that weren't allowed back when old school love was big. it's a different type of freedom to love someone on the weekends but never to fall in love with them. maybe we're just romanticizing hookup culture but who's to say that we can't? maybe we're all more romantic than we want to admit. maybe when we fall into the sheets with someone we barely know, we're looking for a fragment of love to satiate our heart in ways we didn't know it needed."
jaehyun doesn't know what to say to that so he just pulls her closer to him and she lets him, throwing her leg over his as they fall asleep, closer to each other than they had ever been.
+++
you're not sure what had compelled you to leave so quickly that morning. you usually like to get the boys who sleep with to at least cook you breakfast before you left (for compensation of being terrible in bed, if the situation so called for it) but for some reason, every instinct in your body had pulled you to leave.
you had waken up at nearly 5 in the morning, a mere two and a half hours after the two of you had fallen asleep, gathered your clothes, and were about to leave when you turn to look at jaehyun, still snoring away peacefully, his arm crossing his body to rest on the empty space next to him that you had occupied previously.
you had a feeling that you're going to lament leaving this early after psychoanalyzing why you were leaving so early later in the day but for now, if your gut was telling you to leave, you were going to heed the precautions.
but even as you're about to leave, you find yourself turning to jaehyun's desk, sparse but somehow still a little messy as you rummage for a post-it note and a pen to write with. you grin to yourself when you find yourself successful (and endearing somehow that jaehyun has bright pink post-it notes).
you pass a brother on the way out (undoubtedly a freshman who had received the short stick of the duties tonight) but you wave him off when he offers to walk you home. dangerous? most definitely. but you really needed the time and space to yourself and the short, almost ten minute walk back to your apartment would offer some enlightenment.
spoiler alert: it didn't. no matter how hard you wracked your brain to come up with some version of a logical explanation, you realized that there was just simply no way to do so.
and something about that frustrated you. you knew it wasn't a big deal. jaehyun was just a hook-up. a one night stand. and yet...something wasn't fitting right in your mind. so you start to think in the only way you know how, collecting all of the pieces of information you did have.
a) you just had sex - mind-blowing sex with jaehyun. he was everything you expected and more when it came to a sexual partner. b) you didn't develop feelings for him. sex comes fifth on the list of things you subconsciously (or now consciously, since you've spoken it into existence) have when looking for a potential boyfriend. first comes personality, then intelligence, then ambition, then looks, and then sex. you didn't even have a conversation long enough to figure out if jaehyun had more than three brain cells to piece together. c) jaehyun jung had confessed that he had wanted to get with you since last semester. did he mean with you-r body or with you?
you shake your head as if to physically shake the irrational thoughts in your mind out and press your id against the scanner at the entrance of your apartment building, rubbing your fingers against your temples as you get into the elevator to reach your apartment.
unlocking the door to your (empty) apartment, you decide to shelf the thoughts for some time when your head wasn't pounding and collapse on your bed, thanking the lords you'd had the sense to take a shower at jaehyun's.
and the last thing you remember is the smell of jaehyun's shampoo in your hair as you drift into blissful, dreamless sleep.
+++
you're not surprised to feel a weight on your bed when you wake up the next morning. you blearily open your eyes to make out sia's general figure, rosie and fatima undoubtedly chatting quietly in the kitchen.
you vaguely piece together something about fatima having kun over but him sleeping on the couch and you try to push down the guilt that creeps up into your brain as you realize that you had left fatima alone at the party. a party where all of you knew a lot of people (and the outcome was just as everyone had thought it would be) but the principle of the matter stung nonetheless.
you push aside the thought - along with the idea that you should probably apologize to fatima when the cottony feeling in your mouth started to subside - in favor of looking at sia, who is strangely quiet as she watches you gather yourself. for her boisterous personality, sia yoo could see through anyone to the extent of theorized telepathy so you don't even bother trying to hide anything from her.
although, it really is hard to take her seriously when she's got hickey's littered across her neck. well. you suppose you don't look much better at the moment.
"you left before 10 o'clock," sia says simply. you don't pretend to not understand what she means as you nod, pushing yourself up on your bed as fatima and rosie also enter, rosie handing you a glass of water.
"i know," you say softly. "but i want to hear about everyone else's nights right now. i just don't know that i'm in the right headspace to think about why i left so early - i'm not even sure i know why i left so early."
sia says nothing for a moment, watching your face, almost as if she were trying to read your very essence. but she relents, reaching out to hold your hand briefly before completely switching up, speaking animatedly about her very adventurous night, leaving you to simmer in your thoughts.
had sia always been this smart? probably. who's to say that she wasn't, after all?
turns out that sia and johnny were actually going to go on a date on wednesday, after realizing that their chemistry extended further out of the bedroom than either of them had expected. sia was through the roof, obviously, given that she had been thirsting over johnny (although more in a sexual sense than anything else) for so long.
rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom also worked a lot better than any of them had thought so you were sure that you were going to lose your roommate to the other '97 liners more often for the foreseeable future.
fatima was the only one who had a pg night, with kun coming over to her apartment and just chilling together the whole night, eventually having him sleep over since he was too tired to walk back to the apartment that he lived out (it was on the other side of campus, given that he moved out of the nct house pretty late into the semester last year).
"speaking of kun, when are you guys gonna make it official? i mean after this year, you guys are going to only have one year together before you guys graduate," you say, bunching your comforter before letting go. it felt weird saying that. especially in regards to your friends. theoretically, you had all the time in the world together.
but all the time in the world wasn't enough when it came to these girls.
fatima sighs before getting up, wringing her hands together as she thinks. "i don't know. i mean kun's graduating a year early so i really only have this year left. i - i know how much he likes me. i know that he wants to do this right way. go the whole nine yards."
"but...?" rosie says, elongating the syllables as you and sia look at her patiently. fatima shakes her head, getting up to walk around the room, six paces enough to take her from one side of your room to the other.
"i just don't know. kun's great and honestly, i really think that's the one. or at least one of the ones for me. but i just don't know if my parents would be okay with it. i mean my parents are great! they give me so much freedom and honestly, i'm really thankful that my parents allowed me to find religious and spiritual freedom on my own, without ever trying to shove it down my throat."
"but at the same time...how can i betray their trust in me by dating someone who is so far from my religion? like. kun is a great guy but he's not muslim. and sure, i don't follow a lot of the stricter things in islam but i - i have god in my heart. and i don't know that god would want me to start a family that doesn't follow islam. especially since i can see that in my future with kun and kun - i don't know that i could ask kun to convert to another religion for me."
the room is silent for a little bit after fatima finishes, with her collapsing in your bed next to you. rosie and sia exchange a look with each other, and then you, as they both decide to leave the room, leaving you to console fatima.
you were always the most philosophical one out of the bunch anyway.
"look, fatima, i can't pretend to know what it's like to have that kind of mental burden and i really can't understand what it's like to think about the future and be concerned about the impact on the world you might create. i read about something the other day though - did you know that kun means 'manifesting' or 'believing' in arabic?" fatima looks at you with disbelief written all over her face, shaking her head.
"how did you know that?" she asks and you just shrug, nodding at the 'islam for dummies' book you had bought in hopes of understanding a little bit more about one of your closest friend's religion.
"that's not the point. but fatima, you are the single kindest, most beautiful person i know. and i have faith that you will choose what's right for you, not what's right for the people around you because you know better than everyone that the only person who can judge you is god. and no one - no one - on this earth has the right to take that peace away from you."
fatima is silent before wrapping you in her arms, the soft material of her hoodie comforting you and lulling you back into a sleep that's dreamless and calm.
+++
jaehyun doesn't know what to expect when he walks into intro to east asia on monday. should he say hi? wave? start a conversation? should he acknowledge that he spent the better part of his weekend wondering if he would lose his fuckboy status if someone realized just how down bad he was for you?
probably anything but the last one was a good idea.
jaehyun was not in a good state of mind. he was a hot 19 year old man with a near perfect gpa (a whopping 3.98 only because he got a singular a-), a not so terrible set of dimples, and a killer body. and yet he was walking around like how he had been prior to his enlightening summer.
it's almost freeing but also humiliating to think that one night in bed was enough to make him start an entire philosophy but that was where jaehyun was at so who was he to question anything, really?
in fact, jaehyun is so caught up in what he would name his new branch of philosophy (loserism, with a lot of inspiration from zeno) that he doesn't even realize that you've already walked past him and taken your seat.
third row, first seat. you're putting your bag down next to your chair, pulling out your laptop, tossing your hair over your shoulder when it falls in your face. jaehyun tears his eyes away, knowing that this was not a good look for him.
if jaehyun really wanted to pursue you, which he was sure was where all of his jumbled emotions were eventually going to lead him anyway, he knew for a fact that you weren't going to be interested in having to take the lead. especially if jaehyun wasn't even sure that you were interested in the possibility.
but that's a struggle for another day. what was it that stephanie laurens said? that all women want sometimes is a little old-fashioned loving?
that was, in fact, the opposite of what sia had said you were really into but jaehyun had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't mind handing the reigns over in the decision making process portion of a relationship, or the courtship, if your time together this weekend alluded to anything.
jaehyun almost misses the beginning of the lecture, where professor ma (no one actually calls him that besides himself) was going into some of his favorite places to stay during his time in china. and while missing any portion of professor ma's lecture was of no crime, he also almost misses the way that you're looking straight at him, faking a yawn when jaehyun finally locks eyes with you.
professor ma was known for giving stellar recommendation letters (which was why johnny had coerced jaehyun into ta'ing for his class in the first place) but he was such a pain in the ass.
jaehyun has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees your exaggerated gestures to show how boring you were finding the professor's lecture to be, pulling himself together in time for him to finally be able to take a seat in the back of the classroom, professor ma having asked him to take attendance for the some two hundred students in the classroom. by hand.
he almost drops the piece of paper that you slide into his hand, subtly slipping it into the pocket of his basketball shorts as makes his way up the flight of stairs to the tenth row, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, in a rush to open the delicate piece of paper in his hands.
there's only three words on the piece of paper and a series of dashes and yet jaehyun knows that this is all he needs. this is all the signal he needs to know that he wasn't imagining the chemistry or the tension between the two of you. and fuck what anyone said about his 'reputation'; it was jaehyun's turn - the old jaehyun's turn - to get the chance to experience the relationship he had always been dreaming of.
he rereads the little piece of paper before smiling and tucking it into his pocket again.
earn the rest. 9__-___-____.
+++
johnny suh is getting whiplash from his best friend's actions.
one day, he's asking sia yoo if her best friend usually leaves her one night stands by the time they wake up. then he's throwing said one night stand's notes into the trash can before leaving for some frat meeting or another.
the next day, he's carrying another note from the same one night stand he can't seem to get out of his head.
jaehyun doesn't tell johnny anything. he really doesn't need to at this point. johnny suh is a senior in college and he's pretty much seen it all. he's also the vice president of a frat - which means that even if he didn't have all the experience that he did just because of his seniority, he definitely seen it because of the sheer number of stupid decisions frat brothers will find themselves making when they think they're going to either a) get drunk b) get high c) get their dick wet.
johnny knows it's all in good fun (fun that he's definitely not opposed to) but jaehyun's always been a little bit of an enigma when it came to all of it. he was good at the drinking and alright at the getting high and absolutely fan-fucking-tastic at the getting his dick wet.
it was the goddamn dimples. everyone always fell for the dimples.
and sure, while jaehyun had had crushes before (johnny could read his little like no other), they'd always been fueled by the hormonal rush of adrenaline and testosterone pumping through his veins. in fact, johnny's not sure that jaehyun had had a proper crush on anyone at college after getting fucked over in high school, where johnny had also gone to with jaehyun.
not that johnny had really known jaehyun. he was quieter and kept to himself more then. didn't really hang out in the same crowd as johnny.
he knows that's not necessarily true. johnny had, truthfully, just completely overlooked jaehyun. like a lot of girls had until jaehyun had finally started to grow into his features.
but johnny knows jaehyun now and he also knows that if jaehyun had never met gianna lee, jaehyun wouldn't have ever dove headfirst into the deep end of shitfuckery and sleeping around with every breathing body in sight.
cliché story of course. college boy becomes a fuckboy after having his heart broken by a girl in high school. johnny's almost 100% positive that sia's shoved at least two or three novels like those in johnny's face, with the same exact plot.
but what is life but a series of clichés after all. and honestly, did it even matter? it was real. it happened to jaehyun. that was all. end of story.
so johnny doesn't even say a word when he sees the post-it note in jaehyun's trash can. he's silent as he watches sia and jaehyun talk and jaehyun fall into a period of overthinking (and jaehyun knows he's overthinking too because johnny can see him shake his head even as he continues to stare at the 'people' tab of intro to east asia).
and johnny finally decides to break his silence when he sees jaehyun with a new post-it note, although this time it was a much more tame blue post-it, and a pensive look.
jaehyun slips it to johnny to read as they're sitting at the local starbucks, with johnny filling out some paperwork for the job he was signed on for as soon as the school year ended and jaehyun studying for the organic chemistry exam he had coming up the next week.
he doesn't say anything when he passes the note but johnny can see him sideye-ing him to catch his reaction and it's all he can do to keep from letting a little smile slip through.
he hands the piece of paper back, watching as jaehyun immediately stuffs it into his backpack, and for some reason, he's really not sure what to say. if sia were here, she would know exactly what to say, and how to say it. she had a way of saying things that were a little too straightforward to feel good but also obviously coming from a generally good place.
it was one of the reasons why johnny had thought it would be a good idea to make it official with her. sia yoo was nothing like what johnny had thought - and the thought simultaneously frightens him and comforts him.
"you plan on asking her out on a date?" johnny says lightly, sliding his laptop over to pretend to look at his phone casually. in actuality, he's typing furiously to sia (one of the few people that johnny trusted or consulted when it came to advice giving) about what was happening.
johnny is not very surprised when sia's gray bubble appears, disappears, and then appears again only to say, "yeah, i know."
he waits for a more elaborate response. or even a more sia-like response but the more that he talks to her, the more johnny is learning that sia is more unpredictable than she really seems to be.
and sia yoo seems to be completely out of the box.
johnny shakes his head, as if to physically get rid of the thoughts of her from his head, unsure why he was thinking of her when he was supposed to be helping out one of his boys.
"yeah. i think so? i don't know. i mean we had a good time and we definitely have chemistry. but we literally just had one night in bed and that's it." jaehyun furrows his eyebrows as he realizes that's not just it. "well, there is the fact that kun was walking around singing her praises. and i know that fatima wouldn't be friends with kun or y/n if she wasn't sure they're both good people. not to mention the fact that i've always thought she's kinda hot. but it's always been superficial. even us spending the night together was really nothing more than finding each other hot or trying to figure out if the talk around town was real or not."
johnny takes a sip of his americano as he lets jaehyun's words sink into his own mind. jaehyun rests his heads on his arms crossed in front of him and johnny knows exactly the set of thoughts that's running through jaehyun's mind because they were the same as johnny's when he had decided to ask sia out on a date.
is it worth it? is it worth possibly getting my heart strung up on someone again just to face the possibility of breaking it again?
so johnny offers the only advice that he really has.
"talk to roseanne. girls' fiercest protectors are their friends and something tells me that talking to her will make you fall on one side or the other."
+++
the next time that jaehyun sees roseanne is a complete coincidence. he really only meant to say hi to one of his homies, yugyeom, on the way out of the library and hadn't expected to run into roseanne or miyeon at all. especially not a singular day after johnny had suggested that he seek her out in the first place.
he watches as yugyeom thumbs the rip in miyeon's jeans as he continues to talk to jaehyun about something jeongguk had done the previous weekend. and then he sees miyeon press a kiss to roseanne's cheek as she gets up to fill up her water bottle.
jaehyun didn't think he would understand that dynamic at all but whatever floated their boat. who was he to judge? he had watched the barbie movie and was still having a crisis about his masculinity and was actively searching out his one night stand's (were you still just his one night stand?) roommate and best friend to fix it. to be fair, he didn't really fully understand the barbie movie, to the chagrin of doyoung's girlfriend nairobi but that was besides the point.
yeah. jaehyun was really in no position to speak. wow he had a lot of things to work on internally. the more he talked to the women in his life, the more he was realizing this. again. not the point.
roseanne takes one look at his face and then exchanges a look with miyeon and then yugyeom before standing up and walking towards the exit, looking at jaehyun questioningly when she realizes that jaehyun hasn't moved an inch. jaehyun hurriedly bids yugyeom and miyeon goodbye as he rushes after her.
the two of them linger outside of the library and roseanne just raises an eyebrow as she appraises jaehyun. and for some reason, jaehyun stands up straighter, and she just sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.
"let me guess. 'who makes people work for their number? what is this? sprinkle sprinkle type of stuff?' or maybe 'this is kinda cringey, isn't it?' or just a sweet and simple 'what the actual fuck?'" roseanne says nonchalantly, listing out each possible question jaehyun could have come to ask.
"would it make me a bad man if i said yes to all of the above?" jaehyun asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. roseanne shrugs, crossing her arms across her chest.
"not really. i don't think so at least. it's a fair set of questions that even i asked her the first time a guy came up to me asking who the fuck my roommate thought she was," roseanne says. she takes sees the look of confusion on jaehyun's face as she continues, "you're definitely not the first person to ask me that but you are of a selective few. y/n usually doesn't let people get this far in the first place. and secondly, she doesn't really tell us much about people she's interested in until much later."
"she's a strange person, if i'm being honest with you. there's just something about her that makes her so captivating and invisible at the same time. she'll capture the attention of everyone in the room but if you talk to her, she'll make you feel like her best friend. she seems like an open book, and an even more open friend. and you feel so close to her within a conversation and then you end the conversation, you realize that even as she spoke, she revealed nothing about herself."
"i'm her best friend and i could tell you very confidently that i didn't know a single thing about her truly until recently. it made me frustrated at first. like i was a shitty friend or something. but the closer to her i got, the more i realized that she's always been a great friend but no one's been a great friend to her. she's very selective with the people she associates with - not just people she lets herself be seen with but people she confides in."
"this whole thing is a defense mechanism. she'd be caught dead before she'd ever admit it but she just hasn't been loved in the way that she's loved and now she's more guarded for it. i'll tell you this jaehyun, but if you want to give up, do it now. she says she's just going to give you her number if you earn it but once you get all 10 digits, know that she's gonna give you her heart."
"it seems like i'm violating girl code by telling you all this but like i said, even if you were to ask y/n, she would say the same thing. not in so many words but still. like i said. she's an open book and a closed heart. she knows you're gonna ask me and so she only tells me something that she would be okay with you hearing."
jaehyun, who had been listening quietly and patiently the whole time, cuts in with a quiet voice. "isn't it exhausting to live like that?"
roseanne looks at him strangely, as though she was truly seeing him for the first time. jaehyun doesn't know if he's offended or relieved that she'd done what he'd done to sia - made assumptions based on his appearance. he lands on neutral. it's human nature, to try and make proper guesses about who's gonna act like what.
the ancient art of preventing heartbreak, jaehyun supposes.
"maybe. i don't think so though. it's gotta be a different level of relief knowing that no one's gonna talk shit about you because a) no one knows you well enough to do that or b) because you're so careful with who you trust that you know they'd never betray you or even c) they can only talk about what you put out into the world. it's why censorship is so effective. people can only talk about what they know. there's few people who will ignore what they see to find what they can't see tangibly."
"are all of y/n's friends secretly poets or something? why the hell are you guys all speaking cryptically like you're all freemasons or some shit like that. i can't tell if i find it cringey or cool," jaehyun says, cocking his head.
roseanne lets out a real, full bellied laugh at that, clutching her stomach as chuckles escape her. jaehyun's not sure what he's said that's so funny but he knows for a fact that she's not laughing with him, but at him.
"why is it cringey, jaehyun? why would it be cool? it's just what it is. we're just girls. you'll see us at the party next weekend, drinking our weight in alcohol. we'll have the conversations about makeup and dresses and having fun and our future and our past. there's nothing like freemasonry, i promise. it's just so amusing to see men get alarmed by the thoughts that girls have been wrestling with since they've been twelve. the duality of man, i guess," roseanne says finally, once she's caught her breath.
jaehyun doesn't know how to respond to that so he elects to save the remaining tatters of his dignity by just not responding at all. if there's one thing he's learned about you, it's that you surround yourself by women who are not hesitant about putting him in his place. and he's oddly thankful for it.
"i have one last question. well, two last questions, actually," jaehyun says when he sees roseanne turning around to head back inside, still wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.
roseanne turns, a knowing glint in her eyes even before jaehyun asks his question.
"how many guys have talked to you? and what's the highest number anyone's ever gotten to?"
roseanne is silent and just as the silence begins to turn awkward, she promptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away. she opens the door to the library before she seemingly changes her mind and looks back at jaehyun.
"two guys have talked to me. you're gonna have to ask fatima about the second question though. and jaehyun? the next number is 6."
96_-___-____.
+++
jaehyun finds fatima not soon after his conversation with roseanne. he's sitting in the nct house, watching johnny pace back and forth in his room, trying to figure out if what he was wearing was too casual for a date to a bowling alley.
it was way too formal, in jaehyun's opinion. but he was just going to wait for johnny to finish panicking (even if he would never admit that he was, in fact, panicking) to figure that out on his own. seriously though, who wore a button down and slacks to a bowling alley?
then again, he was going on a date with sia yoo so really, anything was fairplay when it came to that girl. she was a whirlwind of literally everything that could possibly go into a human being. she was a maximalist to the fullest, seizing every opportunity she could to make good memories, pressing forward with a sense of perfect clarity and sobriety that most people would be scared of.
the type of girl who was the main character of any story that she would feature in. sia was the type of person that people who trip and fall over themselves trying to have a good time with that she practically promised. she walked around with fairy dust in her fingers and a strange sense of wisdom that felt like she could read you like a book within a singular meeting with her.
jaehyun knows that she's the most intimidating out of all of the girls. out of you, roseanne, fatima, and sia, she was hands down the most frightening because even though she could read everyone else, no one could really read her.
then there was roseanne. she was the wet dream of every girl alive - the reason why straight girls lamented that they were straight and still falling a little bit in love with her. she was hot, flirtatious to the extent of making everyone wonder what they were when she gave them even a split second of attention, and so incredibly full of life. it doesn't surprise jaehyun that she had become exclusive with miyeon and yugyeom. for some reason, he feels like she just wouldn't have been able to settle for liking one person at once.
she was a little too much for just one person to be able to handle. she was like the human personification of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving, woody cologne smelling wattpad trope. jaehyun understands her appeal all too well.
and then there was fatima. she was kind, sweet, kept to herself, and always offered a helping hand to those around her. jaehyun understood why kun had fallen so hard for her within two minutes of meeting her. she had an air about her that made you feel like she was someone who truly cared about you, even if you didn't know her and she didn't know you all that well. she was the type of girl who was always forgotten in the novels about warriors and princesses. the girl who was often reduced to nothing more than the main character's best friend.
until you met a girl like her in real life. fatima was still a little forgotten, and jaehyun knew that. guys often overlooked her in favor of her 'hotter' or 'wilder' friends, which is admittedly what jaehyun had thought at first. but she was just so genuine and clearheaded. she protected her peace in a way that was so unusual for young, college-going students. not to say that sia, roseanne, or you weren't genuine or anything like that. but fatima was the type of girl that jaehyun knew was perfect for kun. the girl that he could go home and know that no matter what he had done in his past, she would love him all the same.
and there was you. smart, strangely private, and a series of contradictions housed within one heart. jaehyun wracks his brain, trying to gather everything that he knew about you and yet, he comes up empty.
frustratingly empty.
jaehyun vaguely registers the fact that johnny has finally changed and is getting ready to go. he knows that he should say something about how johnny should just be himself and that sia liking him is completely up to her, regardless of what johnny were to do. but when he locks eyes with johnny, he realizes that johnny already knows.
so jaehyun just claps him on the back as he heads back to his room, his mind spinning as he tries to think of everything that he knows about you. and he draws a blank every fucking time.
he knows superficial things about you. maybe it's because he doesn't know you like he knows your friends. he hasn't talked to you as much as he's talked to them. but how does he not know you? he's been wanting to get with you for so long. he wanted more than just your body. he wanted your charm and your appeal.
was it just your body? is that all it was? is that all jaehyun wanted? somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to believe that. he doesn't want that for himself. logically, he knows that gianna's impact on his life shouldn't be extending this far. he knows that he shouldn't want or have to fight himself this hard but you're not making it much easier for him.
when was the last time jaehyun wanted to get to know such an enigma of a girl? gianna lee. and he wants nothing to do with a girl like that ever again.
and yet, here he is. falling into the same trap all over again.
jaehyun's so caught up in his own thoughts, feeling himself starting to spiral when he bumps in fatima and kun, who are equally caught up in a conversation with each other.
"oh, my bad," jaehyun mumbles, ready for fatima to brush past him but she doesn't, looking at jaehyun and then kun.
"hey man, we're headed back to my place. why don't you come back with us?" kun offers, and jaehyun just nods blankly, as he starts to follow them out of the nct house. kun stops at the entrance where he picks up a textbook from yuta, who had been borrowing it for the last week, before the three of them make their way out.
"how are you, jaehyun?" fatima asks with a sweet smile as they pile into kun's car. somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to give her a generic, insincere answer.
"i'm...okay. i'm just okay. confused but okay," jaehyun says and fatima seems alright with this answer. kun pulls out of the 'driveway' of the frat house, exchanging in a quiet conversation with fatima about what they were planning on eating for the night, leaving jaehyun to simmer in his thoughts.
gianna lee. there was a name that he thought about almost every day and never all at the same time. the girl who had made him and broke him. the girl that jaehyun had trusted with his heart and made him regret ever doing that.
the girl who had been the first love of his life.
+++
gianna was a year younger than him. smart, so incredibly sweet, and yet someone that no one could confidently say that they knew. she was the type of girl who could slip under the radar as easily as her friends seemed to always stay on top of.
she ran in the same circle as jaehyun had in senior year, right when jaehyun was beginning to blossom into the man that he was today. she had always been kind to him, if not a little withdrawn, even when he was a skinny boy with proportions that absolutely did not seem to match each other.
jaehyun didn't even know her well enough for her to break his heart, honestly. jaehyun had liked her even before having a proper conversation with her. he knew how left out she felt in her own body. even though he couldn't imagine a more gorgeous girl, he knew that she didn't feel that way about herself.
he knew that she always compared herself to her friends. her well-accomplished, 'main character' best friends who were the talk of the school. and her. no matter how intelligent or kind or put together she was, no one really looked at her the way that jaehyun did. she knew it.
even jaehyun couldn't place why he liked her so much. maybe it was the fact that he was somehow comforted that a girl with so much beauty could feel the same way as him. maybe it was the fact that she had always held the same smile for him, regardless of what he looked like. or maybe it was even the fact that one time, she had held his hand as she pulled him across the street, running to catch up with their friends who had already crossed.
jaehyun just remembers looking at her dyed cherry red hair falling into her eyes as she laughs, pulling him forward to where the rest of their friends were standing. and as he breathes in the smoke in the air and the raspberry scent of her perfume, he just knows that he really, truly likes gianna lee.
gianna lee doesn't like him the way that he likes her. he knows that. logically, jaehyun knows that his feelings are truly unfounded. he really has no reason to like gianna the way that he does. and yet, there's a part of him that holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll turn around with those big eyes and upturned lips and say that she likes him the way that he likes her.
so he continues to look at her first when he makes the friend group laugh. he always slips her a napkin when he's getting one for himself when they're out getting milkshakes. he offers to help her with apush when she's stressing about a test the next week.
the closer he gets to her, the more jaehyun realizes that really, she was nothing like the image of her he had conjured in his head. she was every bit sweet as he had thought but she was argumentative, competitive, and all too obsessed with perfection. she always needed to be right in an argument, always had to win, and always had to make sure that she looked flawless doing so.
jaehyun doesn't realize it, of course. he's so obsessed with his glazed over façade of her that he just continues to let her win the arguments even when he knows that she's wrong. and she lets him wrap his arms around her when she gets an 89% on her test.
he lets her walk all over him and she lets him act on his feelings.
it was a toxic, parasitic relationship that neither of them were truly happy in. when gianna asked him out, jaehyun hadn't felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach. he felt like he had won a prize at a marathon. like he'd won a medal.
gianna wasn't a medal. she was a flawed, beautiful human being - every bit gorgeous and horrible as jaehyun and every other human being was. but jaehyun had won, hadn't he?
he hadn't. and it took so long for him to realize that by the time he'd realized that gianna had really only taken to him out of pity, he was so far in his own head that he didn't know how to leave her.
eventually, the summer before college rolled around and gianna had taken it upon herself to do the nasty deed of breaking up with him. it had been an amicable split, as far as their friends were concerned.
but none of them had ever truly either of their friends. so what did they know?
what did they know about gianna finding comfort in her ex's arms? what did they know about her grades slipping at the end of the school year? what did they know about her having to excuse herself at a meeting for her internship to sob in the bathroom as she realized the true fallacy in the way she had acted? what did they know about the way she had to reconstruct herself bottom up? nothing.
what did they know about jaehyun spending every other night with a different girl, trying to ease the ache in his heart? what did they know about the obscene number of hours at the gym, not sure how to combat the sudden numbness after girl after girl? what did they know about the fact that jaehyun could not physically stand the smell of raspberries anymore? absolutely nothing.
no one knew anything until jaehyun had finally come to college. it was once he joined the frat and met guys who were so alike and different from him at the same time that he finally opened up about gianna.
only to doyoung, kun, and johnny but people nonetheless. everyone had gone through something similar - while for some it happened at college or back home, they all knew the pain. some of them were more in the fault than others but pain is pain and a paper cut bleeds the same red as a gunshot wound.
which is why when kun sits him down on the couch and fatima hands him a cup of iced tea to save them all from the sweltering heat as august makes a last stand against september's winds, jaehyun spills everything.
gianna. his past. his insecurities. everything. he knows he shouldn't. logically, fatima had nothing stopping her from going and telling everything that jaehyun had told her to you, but for some reason, jaehyun thinks that she won't.
she doesn't.
+++
fatima knows that jaehyun was going to talk to her about something like this. it seemed that all of the nct boys came with some level of trauma like this. she wasn't sure what it was about every single boy she had met in college (although, granted, they were either her friends' conquests or kun's friends - a very interesting group of very intertwined boys) having their hearts getting ripped to shreds. sometimes it was of their own volition but they all seemed to be some level of hurt either way.
so when jaehyun spills his heart out on kun's carpeted floors, she's ready with a well-rehearsed speech. he's one of six boys she'd already had this same exact conversation with (kun has a bad habit of picking up strays) but when he looks at her with such raw anguish in his eyes, she falters.
she looks to kun, who's looking at her with the same question that she knows jaehyun is asking.
"how do you know when to choose between your head and your heart? because my heart is so fucking scared of getting attached to someone again. but my head knows that i can't push everyone away because i'm scared."
fatima is quiet, searching for the right words. she's about to say something when kun speaks up, looking determinedly at fatima.
"you learn to choose you. instead of choosing between your head and your heart, just choose yourself. at the end of the day, you and y/n are good people who aren't trying to hurt each other. you're both trying not to get hurt. and honestly, maybe you'll realize that you both are better off as friends along the way. maybe you just realize that you don't want to be with someone right now. or maybe you find someone who makes you feel like you're safe and loved when you're around them, whether you're in love with them or not." fatima looks at kun with a soft smile, reaching out to hold his hand gently.
"you have to choose yourself, jaehyun. trust me. the more you start thinking about what is best for the people around you instead of thinking for yourself, you'll look back fifteen, twenty years down the road and see everyone but yourself in your life. don't do something because gianna and how she made you feel. don't let your past define your future," fatima says, and jaehyun can feel the tears prick his eyes. he blinks determinedly, trying to make them disappear but when kun sits on one side of him and fatima on the other, he starts losing his battle against his emotions, finally letting himself mourn the innocence he had once had.
he buries his head into fatima's shoulder and for some reason, he feels as though kun and fatima would be amazing parents. because jaehyun doesn't remember the last time that he had felt this safe in an embrace.
"and jaehyun? the furthest anyone has ever gotten is five numbers. you're at three. it's your call from here. do what you want, not what you think you need to do." fatima taps his shoulder gently and lets him cry for as long as he needs to.
963-___-____.
+++
jaehyun gets the next number from you. after his conversation with fatima, he's sure that if he wants to go any further than this, he needed to talk to you first.
it's strange. he's earning your number but it feels like jaehyun's somehow earning himself back. and when he finds you again, he knows that you can tell.
even johnny could tell. when he had come back from his (successful) date with sia, the first thing he had said was, "wow. you look so...light."
jaehyun hadn't said anything but 'thank you' but it was enough.
johnny had just smiled at him and recounted the date, stating that he was going to ask her to go on another date this saturday night. jaehyun doesn't mention the fact that nct is throwing that night because johnny already knows.
and honestly, sia is a junior and johnny is a senior. they've been to their fair share of parties. one party being missed wouldn't be life changing for them. but skipping a party as the vice president of a frat and a girl who was sought after as a sweetheart for six frats meant something nonetheless.
he hadn't expected that they were to get that serious that quickly but it was a refreshing change. even fatima and kun were starting about talking about talking to fatima's parents to get their blessing for their relationship. her dilemma was no secret and it seemed that the conversation between the three of them had served to help them through their own issues as well.
there was just something in the air, jaehyun had supposed. august turned to september in the week that jaehyun had wrestled with himself, eventually leading to seeking you out.
it had been at the nct party, actually. you were standing with some of your acquaintances, all of your friends having dispersed to do what they were going to do. jaehyun had been on the other side of the room, convincing bambam that it was most definitely not a good idea to try and pursue soyeon jeon if he wanted to make sure that he woke up with all his limbs intact the next morning.
you had met his eye, raising an eyebrow before continuing your conversation, all thoughts of him seemingly out of your mind. jaehyun looks between bambam (who has gone from trying to get with soyeon to jumping into the pool) (that pool had not been cleaned in a full six months) and you. he just finds jungwoo, one of the pledges, and hands him a very drunk bambam.
"do not let him do anything dumb. i'm counting on you pledge," jaehyun called out over his shoulder as he weaves through people to get to you.
"jaehyun! hey! long time no see," hailey whitfield says, throwing herself in jaehyun's arms. jaehyun looks at you, where you're staring straight at where hailey's body ends and his arms begin. jaehyun tries to push her off of him. once upon a time, jaehyun would've been behind happy about getting with her again - she was so good with her mouth. but now, he has no intentions of giving you the wrong impression.
at least until he has a proper conversation with you so that you knew where he stood with you. and where you stood with him.
"hey hailey, sorry i've gotta get to my friend," he says, not even looking at her as he pushes off of her, resuming his threading through the crowd to where you're standing. you look at him, unimpressed, but jaehyun knows you well enough to know that three numbers are enough to make you feel a certain way if jaehyun was fooling around with other girls.
which he hasn't been. not a single night. jaehyun jung's bed has been empty for an entire two weeks, something that doyoung and nairobi have been taking full advantage of.
even some of jaehyun's friends had started asking if he was having problems or something but he had brushed them off. he definitely wasn't having problems, if hailey whitfield was any indication. but he felt like it would be doing you dirty if he had someone in his bed while he was talking to your friends about you.
so he hadn't.
he knows you know. he knows that you know he's talked to sia, roseanne, and fatima. he'd figured that you'd find out either through them or just by him. he can tell by the look in your eyes that you've read him thoroughly.
so he really doesn't feel bad about pulling you away from your friends, taking you upstairs to his room. finally, doyoung had promised that they would go back to nairobi's place on the condition that jaehyun made sure that no one would try to fuck on his bed. he promised, knowing that the only person who'd be coming up here would be him. he needed to talk to you tonight. if he knew anything it was that.
but once you're sitting on his bed, watching him pace back and forward, he's lost everything he's been wanting to say. where does he even start? with gianna? with the questions he has for you? with the number? where does he begin?
jaehyun looks at you, where you're watching him with a small smile on your face and suddenly, it doesn't matter where he begins. you'll listen to it all. he knows that much.
"why do you want me to work for your number?" jaehyun asks. you look at him curiously, tilting your head as you piece together an answer.
"are you sure you don't know the answer to that question?" you say, folding your legs so that you're sitting criss cross on the navy covers.
"i do. but i want to hear it from you, y/n. you know what all your friends say about you? that they didn't properly know you until a full year of friendship with you. but they said that you never lie. so i want you to tell me," jaehyun says, chest heaving by the end of his ramble. his eyes turn soft as he watches you become more and more solemn and he steps forward, sitting down on his desk chair and swiveling it over so that he was sitting directly across from you.
you pause for a moment, searching for the words before saying anything. "i've never been in a relationship before. so i don't have the trauma that could come from something like that. but i know what it's like to lose your heart to someone. and i know that it hurts. i want to be loved in the way that i never thought i could be. so the number thing is just an excuse for me to get to the point where i won't feel guilty about liking someone."
you shrug, smiling but not allowing the smile to reach your eyes. "it's a good way to make sure that the guy knows what he's getting into either way."
jaehyun nods at that. he knew that much. it feels different hearing it from you though. when you're the one saying it, jaehyun knows that it's real. raw. not coming from people trying to protect you because they know that you're far too soft to truly come at him guns blazing.
somehow, he likes it. he likes that you're much softer than you seem. that you're a lot more vulnerable than you come off as. and for some reason, jaehyun hopes that you never perfect the art of becoming standoffish.
"hmm. you've never been in a relationship before?" jaehyun says finally and you nod, shrugging once more. a shadow of bittersweet nostalgia crosses your face before you're back to your soft smile and guarded yet curious eyes.
"nope. part of it was on me; i've got high standards, if you can't tell. and the other part was that i've always wanted someone who fascinates me. of course, i wasn't all that appealing to men because i spent so much time trying to beat them at the only thing they were good at - ego-boosting themselves but they weren't interesting. none of them were people i really wanted to get to know," you say, unfolding your legs.
jaehyun likes the fact that the tips of your toes are the only part of your feet that touch the ground from how far back you're sitting on the bed. in an act of boldness, jaehyun moves forward to sit next to you, right where you're sitting. his feet are flat on the floor, he realizes.
he doesn't know why he's noticing things like this but he is and something about that frustrates him, frightens him, and tugs at his heartstrings altogether.
"you're heartbroken, aren't you? boys like you always seem to be a little hurt," you say, tossing the words into the air like rose petals. they're recklessly thrown but they're somehow beautiful in the way that blackened roses are always beautiful.
"yeah. i was. i think i will always mourn who i was before that. i was so naïve. but i'm not him anymore. and i think i'm realizing that i'm actually okay with that." jaehyun says the words just as carelessly as you do but once they're out in the open, he realizes that he's being completely honest. he turns to you with a strange look though.
"boys like me?"
you smile and nod at him. "boys like you."
you stand up, walking to where jaehyun has a corkboard with a shitload of scraps and photos from the past two years. you don't mention the fact that none of the memories that he has on the board date from before senior year. you don't need to.
"boys like you who've never been loved completely. boys who think that they need to listen to what the world says about how they should be acting or thinking. boys who are hopeless romantics but what would the world say if they knew that these boys just wanted a little bit of love? what would they say if they were looking for warmth in an empty and cold bed?"
jaehyun hates that you're right. it's the college boy tragedy. condemned to never be able to completely heal from one bad experience and then always breaking hearts to collect enough pieces to build themselves a new one.
he didn't want to end like that. even if it wasn't with you, he was ready to grow past it. he didn't want to end as a heartbreaker.
"boys like me...and you like a boy like me?" jaehyun asks. he doesn't know why he does. this is the first proper conversation you've had with him when both of you are decidedly sober. you want to deflect the question but if he's being honest, that's a sign for you to be just as honest.
"i don't know. from what my friends say, and what i know about you as a person in class, i know you mean well. and honestly, i've always just been the type of person to like someone past things like the books they read or the way they dress," you say, still looking at the memories jaehyun's pieced together over the years on this board. "i feel something around you. and i don't know you well enough to know that i like you as someone more than a friend but i'd like to at least have the chance to get that far."
that's all jaehyun needs. he gets another number that night.
+++
jaehyun waits for you outside of intro to east asia, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to make it out of the classroom. you're the last one to leave, knowing that technically, you and jaehyun weren't allowed to see each other while he was your ta.
jaehyun had never really pegged you as someone with so much respect for the rules but you had argued that it was mostly about the principle.
he'd learned a lot about you that last weekend. you and him had stayed up all night, talking about nothing and everything under the sun until the sun itself rose, eventually falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and conversations.
he learned that while you didn't like the rules, you often followed them as long as they followed your own moral code. that you would die for your friends and that had landed you in many bad friendships when people would use that to their advantage before you'd met your friends in college. he learned that you were super close with your family, and that they were quite literally the best friends that you could always rely on.
and he learned that you wanted to see him again. on a date. sometime soon. so with no real way of communicating with you outside of social media (and he somehow felt like sliding into your dm's was corny and somewhat of a copout), here he was. waiting outside of the classroom like he was ripped straight from a 1950's romance movie. he even had the letterman jacket on to boot.
"oh my god, you scared me," you say, pressing a hand to your chest as you quite nearly bump into jaehyun. he smiles, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders as the two of you start walking.
"you knew i was waiting for you outside, didn't you?" he says, pushing the side door open to walk towards the parking lot, where he's convinced kun to let him borrow his car for the day.
"yeah but i didn't think you would be literally outside the door," you murmur, checking your phone to see the rest of your day's schedule. you had purposefully blocked off three hours of your schedule to hang out with jaehyun, which you were sure to regret later on when your organic chemistry class kicked your ass. but that was a later issue.
"well, i couldn't text you where i was so i figured i'd wait in plain sight," jaehyun retorts, opening the passenger door for you without a word. huh. that was the first time a man has ever done that for you. and jaehyun did it as though it were second nature - like it was a given.
you don't know why something so small means so much to you but you're alright with it. you're alright with just appreciating it.
"that's fair," you say. another number's on the tip of your tongue as you watch him get into the driver's seat but jaehyun beats you to the punch.
"don't give me a number. not yet," jaehyun says. "not that i don't want one. but i just...me waiting outside your classroom or opening your door isn't enough for a number. even if i don't get all ten, you've got to up your standards."
you don't know what to say to that so you don't say anything, turning on the music and letting the melody of chemtrails under the country club by lana del ray fill the rainy september afternoon sky.
+++
when jaehyun pulls up to a run down diner, you're pleasantly surprised. although you're not much of a sucker for romantic places, the fact that jaehyun is somehow makes you happy. it makes you happy that he still sees the beauty in places like these. and when you look over at him, dimples threatening to show as he breathes in the air of misty fog and the smell of milkshakes and burgers, you're so tempted to kiss him.
so you lean over, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes once jaehyun has parked.
"can i kiss you?" you ask, mere inches from his lips. jaehyun just looks at you, and from this close, you realize just how beautiful his eyes are. they're dark, darker than anyone else's that you know. and yet, it feels like you could fall in and never regret it.
"please."
it's all you need. and it's all he needs because as soon as word slips from his lips, he's pressing forward, his lips against yours. he's soft, you register vaguely. nothing like last time. nothing like how he'd kissed you like he could think of nothing but absolutely ruining you.
jaehyun is soft. like the feeling of slipping a cold hand into someone's warm jacket pocket. he kisses you like he's scared of ruining you. ruining this. and you're absolutely addicted to the feeling.
the feeling of knowing that he could just claim you instead of trying his best to claim your heart. no matter how fucked up it was that you were even thinking that someone could 'claim' you. he wasn't like that and you could work with that.
he pulls away from you, eyes still closed as he sits against the drivers seat, his head against the headrest. you watch him, a silly and childish smile on your face - although you're not really sure why it's there in the first place. but who are you to knock anything?
there aren't many words to exchange as the two of you make your way into the diner. jaehyun had opened your car door again. this time, you just offer him your hand and you're strangely alright with just how safe you feel with his hand locked in yours.
the diner seems as though time has frozen still here.
and everything about the date seems the same. it feels as though time has frozen still - almost as though the two of you are in a little bubble with no one but each other. it's a feeling you haven't experienced in a while. a feeling you don't think you've ever had because of a boy.
it feels...almost scarily comfortable. it doesn't feel as though there are fireworks exploding for every word that jaehyun says. but it does feel as though that there's a hot mug of cocoa that's been handed to you on a cold winter night. and that feeling, the feeling of warmth spreading through every corner of your body, is the feeling that you know is good for you.
so you listen to him, watch him speak animatedly about basketball or a book he read, chin resting in your palm as you find yourself falling deeper and deeper.
jaehyun gets two numbers that day.
+++
it doesn't take much longer for jaehyun to get the rest of the numbers. soon enough, you're more than happy just to spend time with him the way that you spend time with your friends. you feel as though you've made a good friend out of someone you'd thought that you wouldn't even be able to get along with.
"you know, when i first met you, even before i knew you, i really didn't like you," you say, taking a sip out of your latte. the seasons have changed, fall giving way to winter. the november air bites your skin every time someone opens the door to the tiny café the two of you were sitting in.
jaehyun smiles, nodding as he leans back in his chair. "i know. i could tell by the look in your eyes."
"the look in my eyes?"
"yeah. the one that said that you wanted to get to know me. to figure out my deal even if you didn't necessarily want to find out for sure. kind of like you wanted to be the one that said 'aha!' at the end of a movie, even though you weren't sure of the ending at all."
you look at jaehyun for a moment before laughing, shaking your head as you laugh. "you're even starting to talk like me now."
jaehyun pauses before he nods, smiling with you. "yeah, i know. you've rubbed off on me in a lot of ways."
"i've improved your music taste, that's for sure," you snort, taking another sip out of your latte. "i still can't believe you didn't like ric flair drip when we met."
"it's not that i didn't like it and it's still not that i like it now. but i guess i just have a good memory associated with it now so it's growing on me," jaehyun says. your eyebrows furrow as you try to recollect what good memory he could possibly be referring to.
"oh my god. the night that we met! i was trying to get in your pants with ric flair drip," you say incredulously, shivering when someone opens and closes the door once more. jaehyun hands you his hoodie, leaving his arm extended silently when you protest.
you don't know why you still bother trying to protest with him when you knew you were going to lose. you put the sweater on as jaehyun starts talking, letting the scent of clean water and pine trees swaddle you softly.
"honestly, i think i was more than you that night," jaehyun says, as he looks at you with an incriminating twinkle in his eyes. "that was around the time that even taeyong said that he wanted to see if kun's vivid descriptions were true or not. and i wasn't about to let him get the opportunity to get to you before i did. i don't know why. i felt almost protective over you. but not in a good way. in the type of way where i wanted to show you how good i could make you feel - more than anyone could even begin to think of making you feel."
the previously cold café begins to become a lot hotter than you were feeling before, clearing your throat as you try to let the moment pass.
"how did we even get here?" you say, fanning yourself delicately. the move only serves to work against you when you fan yourself so that the scent of his cologne on his hoodie only gets stronger in your mind.
jaehyun leans back, letting you switch the conversation. he'd bring it up to you later in the night, anyway. besides, for someone who puts on such a strong front, it's honestly a little fun to see you squirm at the slightest implications from jaehyun.
"but, uh, jaehyun. i've been meaning to ask you something for a while," you begin, fidgeting with the wrapper of the straw in front of you. jaehyun tilts his head as if to question what you have to say as he waits patiently.
"what are we?"
now jaehyun is truly confused. was the past month of going on dates not clear enough? jaehyun wasn't going on dates with anyone else. oh my god. were you going on dates with other men? is that why you're asking.
"i thought we were dating?" jaehyun says, phrasing his sentence more like a question than a statement. "i mean i'm not talking to anyone else and i kinda assumed that since i'd gotten all ten numbers, neither were you."
you hum, unable to stop the silly smile on your face.
"good. that's just what i was thinking too."
+++
honestly, everything about jaehyun jung is appealing to you. from the way that he engulfs you in a hug when you're up late studying. or the way that he convinces you that you have a virus on your laptop just so that he could spend more time with you 'fixing' your laptop for you. or the way that he sits with you and your friends, patiently listening and offering advice wherever he can (or honestly, is just allowed to speak).
you're so glad to see him like this. as your boyfriend of four and a half months (you hadn't let him make it official until he was no longer your ta), you've seen him grow in ways that you'd never thought. jaehyun was every inch the stupid, naïve fuckboy you'd thought him to be in the beginning. and he was also every inch the hopeless romantic with a little too much love to give for a scarred heart.
so you heal together. you help each other when you quite literally can't handle the pain and together, you grow. he's more confident. not just in the way that he looks - but the way that he speaks around people. the way that he educates himself. the way that he communicates how he feels.
and he helps you everyday. he shows you what it feels like to be loved the way you love others. he shows you that you are worth the princess treatment. and most importantly for you, he loves the people around you the way you love the people around you.
kun and fatima find their happy ending. fatima had spoken to her parents and while they took some time to warm up to kun, his soft demeanor and the way that he loved fatima so completely and sincerely eventually won them over. fatima even met kun's parents with equal success, although kun's mother kept asking when fatima and kun would get married.
(their wedding was already in the works by both fatima's mother and kun's mother. you were beyond elated to go to both the traditional muslim ceremony and the traditional chinese ceremonies.)
johnny and sia ended up going out on a couple more dates before realizing that they probably just weren't meant to be a couple. they loved each other as friends and were probably always going to hold a special place in each other's lives but it just wouldn't be as each other's significant others. johnny was already starting to retreat from the frat boy lifestyle after meeting a girl at the library one day. and sia had finally met someone who could handle her crazy personality with a sweet smile, bringing her back down to reality whenever she went a little...too lively. you're looking forward to meeting him over summer, where the four of you and your friends were going on a vacation together.
roseanne, yugyeom, and miyeon still haven't put a label on their relationship. but you've caught roseanne falling asleep in yugyeom's arms more than once (one too many times than rosie cares to admit) so you figure that it's a good thing that they've all found each other. as unconventional as their relationship might be, they all mesh together so well that you can't even find it in yourself to question it. all's fair in love and war.
jaehyun and you frequent the diner as a favorite date night spot to visit, although you're upset to hear that they're remodeling the entire establishment for favor of a new, more 'modern' atmosphere. although how modern a diner could get was a little bit of a strange notion. but as people change, so do the winds.
and when you walk into the diner the next semester, hand in hand with jaehyun, you're a little comforted to see that diner is now a speakeasy (in true 1970s fashion) with three words written in blinding rhinestones against the velvet background. of course.
ric flair drip.
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I do adore illness/bedrest unintentional weight gain honestly.
Imagine a thin sporty gal, top of her university’s athletics until one day she breaks her leg, oh no! What a horrible accident, and looks like it will take a few months to heal completely. Which means mandatory bed rest and no playing or exercising that whole time. Of course, people are apologetic and bring her plenty of treats to cheer her up- sugary candies, cakes and cookies, and homemade hearty meals to encourage her to heal up quick. Only, without much else to do and with so much food it quickly starts to have a very different effect…
After the first month of eating and lying in bed she has a little pooch of a stomach, but reassures herself it’s nothing to worry about. That’s normal on bed rest, right? And she can work it off easily once she’s back in action, she just needs to watch her diet better from now on. Only… she doesn’t. Food is a great distraction from the boredom she’s facing, and she discovers just how fun it is to relax, kick back and binge-watch tv. All while eating plenty of snacks, of course.
By the time her leg has healed she’s gained almost a whopping 50 pounds, coating her frame and making her every step jiggle. Her coach assures her over the whispers and stares of her former teammates that she just needs to get back on a regular diet and exercise and she’ll be ready to jump back in in no time.
But she didn’t, so she doesn’t. No matter how hard she tries she can’t seem to make the diet stick, and her disused muscles protest at the attempts to get them back into shape. The allure of sitting back and stuffing her face instead is just to tempting and so most days she does just that. Worse still is the payout from her fancy university for the injury, giving her enough money to not have to worry about getting back to her job as an athlete… or any job really.
Time passes and she gives up trying to stop herself, realizing this new way of life is just so much more fulfilling and pleasurable to her than anything else she could be doing. She’s over 300 pounds now, old clothes ripped to tatters as she spends her fortune on endless takeout delivered directly to her door. She’s constantly horny, too, the pig she’s let herself become turning her on more than she ever felt possible.
She quietly dropped out from her university 100 pounds ago, not interested in the judgmental stares and whispers of the people she once worked so hard to impress. She doesn’t need them now, doesn’t need anything but fat and grease and sugar and the specialty wands she bought to help pleasure herself at every opportunity. She’s slid fully into hedonism, uninterested in the outside world and instead prepared to spend the rest of her life in an endless cycle of bliss.
Just a few short years ago she was famous, a skinny bombshell with a toned body the envy of anyone. Now she’s approaching 500 pounds, sweating and moaning and belching as she stuffs herself knowing she only wants to get even fatter. All because of a broken leg.
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hypewinter · 1 year
Text
At first Danny had been overjoyed to hear that Ellie had finally settled down. But then he realized the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with was absolute scum. He was a raging alcoholic without a stable job and even worse, the asshole had managed to get Ellie hooked on drugs.
Danny had tried to get her to leave him. But she kept on insisting that he wasn't that bad, that he had his good moments. Every time she talked about that man it sickened Danny but he never pushed her too much for fear of Ellie cutting off all contact with him.
Now, as he busted down the door to her apartment, Danny regretted not dragging Ellie back to the Infinite Realms when he had the chance. She had stopped communicating with him a few days ago and panic had overtook him. If he found out that bastard had done something to her, he'd unleash endless suffering the likes of which would make even Pariah Dark cower in fear.
As Danny made his way into the apartment, he found himself experiencing the one thing he dreaded the most. Ellie lay on the floor motionless, a needle beside her. He was too late. No. No no no. Why hadn't he tried harder to convince her? Why hadn't he forced her to move out ages ago. Danny cradled Ellie's body as a silent sob escaped him. Why hadn't he.... His thoughts were interrupted by shuffling coming from the corner.
Danny looked up to see a small boy, sitting in the corner, his legs pulled up to his chest as he watched him. The boy's eyes were hollow and lifeless. And he was so tiny and boney, a gust of wind could have blown him away. What was a child doing here? Was this... was this Ellie's kid? She had never mentioned having a son. Then again, as time had dragged on, she mentioned less and less about her life. It's quite possible she had a son and never elected to mention it to Danny (the very thought that she would keep something like that away from him was too painful to bear).
Danny stared at the boy who looked at him with abject terror. He didn't even need to ask why the kid looked like he was bracing himself. He knew exactly who had instilled such trauma into him. Resolve settled into his heart as he realized it didn't matter whether this was Ellie's kid or not. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He was taking the boy with him.
----
Or Ellie is Catherine Todd and Danny takes Jason in.
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bucketsofmonsters · 8 months
Text
Deep Water - Part 2
cw: the ocean, talk of being drowned, loss of a sibling, more tags to be added as the story continues
merman x fem reader
Word count: 4k
read on ao3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
You weren’t sure how long you sat there, drying off under the morning sun. It was easier than getting up and doing what you came here to do. But eventually, the rocks under you began to dig into your skin through your clothes and the warmth of the sun and your drying clothes stiffening from the salt in the water made you restless. You had to get up, to go somewhere. 
The dock was the last place you wanted to be. It held a horrible ending and an even worse beginning. 
But everywhere else in this new, unforgiving place seemed worse. At least you knew what was waiting for you on that dock. However horrible it was, it held something you understood. 
And so you got up on stiff legs and stretched, fighting against pins and needles to walk towards the moment you’d fought to get to, the moment you’d been dreading more than anything. 
The ground beneath you shifted from unstable stones to steady, aging wood, vibrating with the steps of dozens of people rushing around you. 
It was just as hectic as the dock you had left from. There it had been a boon, the exact thing you had used to sneak onto that accursed ship. 
You appreciated it here too. With dozens of people that had a thousand things to do, you felt invisible. No one had time to gawk at you, to ask if you belonged there. They didn’t have time to care. 
You watched them as they passed and couldn’t help but wonder how many of them knew Isobel. How many of them greeted her with a smile every morning? How many people looked forward to seeing her every day?
You imagined it was many of them. She’d always had that effect on people. 
But she wouldn’t any longer. And you were left to struggle to fill the hole she’d left behind.
That was why you were here. The pretense was that it was for her funeral arrangements, contacting the only family she’d ever told anyone about while she was still here. But really, you were here to take her place, replace her in the job she’d carved out for herself. They’d said as much in the letter, that they’d found her a shocking loss and you were welcome to pick up where she’d left off. 
It was said more tactfully, of course, with much more focus on her coming to arrange the funeral for her dearly missed sister. However, they all knew it would hardly be a lavish affair, just whatever would be paid for by the church. She could mourn her sister just as easily back home as she could here. But a job, that was enough to have her hiding on a cargo ship. 
Isobel has been an inventory taker, keeping the sailors honest, a job that probably would have been aided by you not being caught as a stowaway, but you weren’t particularly worried. They’d barely gotten a good look at you in the dark and even if they did, it had been for just a moment. With any luck, they wouldn’t dock here again, had left while she was sleeping on a quiet little island with a typically deadly monster.
The more you thought back on the last day, the less it made sense to you. It all felt fast and addled. Everything in you wanted to think you’d hallucinated it. If it weren’t for the fact that you were still standing here, alive, you’d be convinced you’d had. 
And then you saw the last thing you wanted to see. You saw a ship that was sickeningly familiar. You didn’t recognize any of the men’s faces. You hadn’t had any real chances to see them, other than through holes in your hiding place and in your panic in the endless rain. 
They looked like normal men. If they weren’t standing on that awful ship, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart from anyone else. 
It felt wrong. 
Something in you didn’t expect them to look like average men. In your head, they were monsters, the evil visible on their faces. 
Your eyes darted over them, your mind trying to catalog as many of their faces as possible. The idea of seeing one of them someday and not recognizing them, of just seeing them the same way you’d see anyone else, sent a bolt of panic through you. You needed to know them, you couldn’t let yourself be caught off guard. 
And then one of them locked eyes with you and you froze, unable to move, to run, to do anything without outing yourself. You knew that there was no way he knew who you were and yet somehow you were convinced that he knew, that exactly who you were was written all over your face. 
He started walking towards you while you stood frozen. You willed your feet to move, tried to tell yourself there was nothing strange about just walking away, but some instinct deep inside of you screamed that if you moved he would know, that it would be just as obvious as turning around and running. 
He greeted you with a smile and you felt a bile rise in your throat, fighting to keep the terror off of your face. 
“You’re Isobel’s sister, aren’t you?” he asked, oblivious to the disgust and fear settling inside you. “You look just like her. Maybe a bit more nervous, but I never met her on her first day.” He chuckled as he spoke and you wanted to hit him, to run, to do anything. How could he just stand here and talk to you? How could he not know, not sense it somehow? “You’ll do just fine. I’m sure it all runs in the family, you’ll pick it up in no time. It is a shame what happened to the lass.”
“It was,” you said, your voice sounding stunted to your ears. 
“Aye. Well, just take the run of our ship for me, let’s get everything sorted as soon as possible.”
You tried to shuffle off, refusing to meet his eye. “I haven’t even started working here yet.”
“It doesn’t really matter, you just need to make it official. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it you get paid. We’re all rooting for you, you know. God knows we’ve heard enough about you, Isobel’s brave, clever little sister.”
As he spoke, he laid a hand on your shoulder, one that you were sure was meant to be reassuring. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was one of the people who threw you overboard, if those hands were one of the ones squeezing your wrists so tight you had just begun to see the bruises. 
You agreed quickly, more in a rush to get away from him than anything. You knew you weren’t in any real danger but still, being anywhere near that cursed ship made you feel queasy. 
You boarded the ship, knees feeling weak as soon as your feet hit the deck. 
You hurried below deck as fast as you could, knowing you were doing a very poor job of looking unaffected by the whole ordeal. You quickly found yourself in the same room you’d hidden in. You saw your shawl stuck behind the heavy boxes, sitting, abandoned and smashed, against the wall.  
You weren’t taking inventory of anything while you were down there, with no means with which to do so or any idea of what you were looking for. You didn’t really know what you were doing. It was a difficult job to do without guidance but you knew they didn’t really want you to do it. All they wanted was the stamp of approval that they were sure meant little, the one that you did not have the authority to give. 
If you’d had the ability, you just might have given it, although not for the reason he’d imagined. You just wanted them gone, considering risking a job you needed badly just to get them away from you. 
Maybe you’d feel different when you left the ship, when you were no longer being faced with reminders of what had happened.
It seemed too calm like this. Like surely some signs of your struggle and terror should be strewn around the room. The only thing that even marked your existence was that abandoned shawl, barely visible behind crates that were stacked high. 
You stood down there, listening to the sound of boots on the deck above in the familiar room until they got more and more distant. Finally, with no idea how long you’d been standing down there, the echoing footfalls largely dissipated and you peeked your head out the door, set on slipping away. 
As you did, slinking off the skip back onto the dock, working to get lost in the crowd before any of the other sailors could spot you as you fled, you heard the sounds of shouting surrounding you. 
You turned to see severed fishing nets held in the hands of deeply upset sailors. 
It was hard to make out exactly what they were saying but you caught wind of cursing at sea monsters amidst accusations that some ravenous creature has chewed through their nets for the easy prey. 
Despite the frustrated cursing at sharks and monsters, you thought that, at least to your untrained eye, they didn’t look like they’d been chewed through. The cuts were too neat for that. Instead, they looked like they’d been cut, cleanly and meticulously. 
“You know what I think,” someone said, and it took a moment for you to realize that the voice was speaking to you. You turned to see a man, one of the younger ones here, leaning conspiratorially into your side. “I think they’re getting cut on the rocks.”
You hummed noncommittally.
The man didn’t seem to mind your lack of response. “A group of piss-poor sailors, can’t even miss something that doesn’t move.”
That managed to earn a quiet chuckle from you. 
He turned, really taking you in for the first time. “Hold on, you’re new, aren’t you?”
You nodded, sparing him a glance before your eyes darted back to the upset men and their shredded net. 
He was a rather ordinary boy, a medium brown hair, lightened from long hours of working in the sun, dark eyes, and freckles creeping up his cheeks. He seemed altogether more interested in you than you were in him but then again, you were the newcomer here. 
You should probably be friendlier, make nice with him. He looked like he worked here so you imagined you’d be seeing a lot of him.  
He stuck his hand out, having to back away from you a little to create enough space between you for a handshake. 
You took his hand and he gave it a quick shake, his hand warm and rough. 
“I’m Finn. Are you taking Izzy’s job? I should’ve guessed, you look just like her.”
You shrunk a bit at the comment. You didn’t think it was true, not in the ways that counted. You saw so little of yourself in her. 
But this man couldn’t know that, couldn’t know anything about you really. You hadn’t so much as spoken a word to him. 
“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, your voice coming out quieter than you’d meant it, a breathiness sneaking its way into your tone. 
He gave you a big, bright smile. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. Has anyone helped you or have you just been milling about? Your first day here and we’ve already failed you. What would poor Izzy think?”
You gave him a halfhearted smile as he spoke, in no mood to hypothesize about what your dead sister would think of you now. 
Finn didn’t mind, taking your hand in his once more and leading you through the crowd of people towards a building to the side of the dock, just barely on dry land. 
He turned to you, another brilliant smile plastered across his face. “Here you are, ma’am, they’ll be able to take care of you in here. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early. If no one else offers to show you the ropes, come find me, alright?”
You offered him a smile that you hoped was even half as big and genuine as his seemed to be. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
With a stilted little bow in parting, he walked away, leaving you with nothing to do but enter the building. 
It was a small building, with not much room for anything inside. Most of the space was taken up by boxes and papers, with one lone desk against the back wall. An older man was sitting at it, hair looking overgrown and unkempt, streaks of gray working their way through it. He had a rather severe look about him, eyes sharp and pointed. He was reading something carefully as you entered. 
His head jerked up to see you and it hit you suddenly that you should have knocked. 
“I’m Isobel’s sister,” you blurted out. “You sent word to my family that she passed, you said if I hurried here I could take her place?”
Recognition flashed in his eyes and he settled back in his chair, eyes darting up and down to fully take you in. “Ah yes. Shame, that. She was a hard worker. Begged me for the job for days, swore she’d do anything to keep this dock running, that we’d never find a better worker. Smile on her face the whole time.” There was something unspoken in his gaze as he looked at you, a quiet challenge asking if you’d do the same. “And they sent you?”
You decided not to mention that really, there was no they. Your family was an independent people.  Frankly, you hadn’t even known whether Isobel was alive or dead between the letters you got maybe once a year, if you were lucky. That’s what you’d thought that awful letter was, written on the same stationary she used. You imagine she borrowed it from whoever had written of her death. Or stolen it. You liked to imagine she’d stolen it, the little bit of extra danger she would have gone through to write to you leaving a warm feeling in your chest. 
“They did,” you said, with the sweetest smile you could muster. 
“Good. And you can read, we know that. How’s your attention to detail?”
“Immaculate, sir,” you said, straightening your back as you spoke. “I will be just as good as she was, I swear it.”
It was a lie, but it was one you could stomach. 
“Good. I’m taking a chance on you, you know. But then again, I was taking a chance on her and anyone who works on this dock will tell you she was the finest worker we ever had.”
You smiled, and this time you meant it. “I’m sure she was.”
“Now, down to business,” he said as he shuffled some of the many papers on his desk around. “We’ve had some issues before, people fudging numbers, sneaking off with pieces of shipments. We have a reputation to uphold. If anything happens with any of them, it's on your head. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now what was special about your sister is she took the inventories in the ships without being largely despised like some of the others before her were. My advice? Play nice. Those men out there can make your life real easy or real hard. They’ll be nice to you, you’re pretty like she was. Try to keep it that way. Just don’t let anything they say go to your head. You report to me every morning and every night. Any questions?”
You shook your head. “No sir.”
He gave you a firm nod and then you were onto paperwork, setting up matters of payments and of reporting in. You took careful note of everything that he said, intent on getting this right. You had no other choice. 
By the time you managed to get out of there, everything signed and squared away, the sun had begun to fall below the horizon. The docks were quieting, although they were far from empty. People bustled around in the orange light of the dusk. 
The glowing sky reflected in the waves, shining back up at you from below. And amidst the reflections of auburn light and a dusting of clouds was a face, shaggy blonde hair framing cheeks with white scales reflecting the fading sun. 
Just the top of his head was peeking above the surface, everything below his nose still under the water. His eyes were staring right up at you, watching you patiently. 
You frantically looked around, making sure no one on the almost empty dock had noticed him. 
“Shoo. Go away,” you hissed down at him when you ensured the coast was clear. 
He splashed water up at you, wetting the bottom of your skirts. 
Your eyes widened and you did your best not to yell. “You cannot be here, you need to leave.”
He stayed put exactly where he was, staring incessantly up at you. 
His message was clear. He wasn’t going anywhere.
You paced off the dock, running over to the shore to try and pull him away from the lights and the people on the dock. The shore was largely abandoned, at least at this time of night. 
His tail snaked across the surface of the water as he swam away, following after you and disappearing faster under shallow water than you were comfortable with, ideas of what else could be lurking under the surface flicking through your mind.
You weren’t sure when a siren following you had managed to land firmly in the non-threatening part of your mind but it had, his alien appearance nothing other than vaguely alarming in the presence of sailors who did not feel as nonchalantly towards him as you did.
“What are you doing here?” you hissed when you both managed to make it to the shore and you stared down at him, disapprovingly. 
He was clearly built for deep water, shifting uncomfortably in the shallows, and yet here he was. 
He shrugged, staring at you from the water, eyes only leaving yours to flick down to your wet skirts. If you hadn’t been so set on getting him away from here, you would’ve scolded him. 
“Do you want something from me?” you asked, trying to get some sort of answer out of him, like you just had to ask the right question to be able to send him away. “Look, there’s safer ways to call in a favor. It’s not that I don’t want to help, I just don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Don’t want anything,” he said with a huff. “Not now anyways.”
“Then why are you here?” you asked, a sense of desperation bleeding into your voice. He’d saved you, if you got him killed now you’d never be able to live with yourself. It was out of the question. You needed to get him to leave. 
He did not want to see reason. “None of your business.”
You sat on the shore, rubbing your temples as you lowered yourself closer to his level. “Okay. Sure, that’s fine. You know what? As long as you’re here I might as well ask. What’s your name?”
He paused, looking to the side for a moment before responding. “Simon”
“Is that true?”
He shrugged. “It’s a name.”
You stared incredulously at him for a moment before he decided it was time to try again. "Peter.”
This did not aid in your confusion. “What?”
“You didn’t seem to like the last one.”
“Do you not have a name?”
“Not your kind,” he said, his nose scrunching a little as he did. 
“What kind then?” you prompted. 
He shrugged. “Our kind.”
You sighed, frustration bubbling up inside of you. “Okay, well where’d you get Simon from?”
“Heard it.”
“Where?” 
“From people.”
“What people?” you asked, feeling a little like a child who’d just learned the word why. It wasn’t really your fault though. If he’d simply answer a question properly he’d be freed from this endless barrage of questions. 
“The ones on the ships.”
“Why were you…” The realities of sirens and ships flashed through your mind and you decided that you should probably end that line of questioning. You shook your head, set on getting back on task. “You’ve got to at least talk to me. Are you here for a reason?”
He shrugged again, nose drifting back below the water as he sunk down into the shallows.
“Look, they won’t take kindly to you if they see you. We can set something up, somewhere where you can contact me so you don’t have to put yourself in danger to see me. We can find a nice abandoned section of the shore, I’ll visit every day so if you need to talk to me, you can.”
He shook his head. “I can find you.”
“I know you can, but you really shouldn’t.”
“We will meet here at dusk,” he said, gesturing to the little slice of shore you were on now, the same one he’d left you at the night before. “And also when I want to, I will find you. 
“Look… Simon? Is that what you want to go with?”
He shrugged noncommittally, eyes flitting towards the dock.
You sighed. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”
He shook his head, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
You groaned. “Fine. That’s fine. Get yourself killed if you want to, I don’t care.”
That knocked the smug look off his face, and he said hesitantly, with a bit of a pout in his voice, “You do care.”
“Not if you don’t want to listen. Why would I care if you won’t listen?”
He studied your face for a moment before a determined look set itself onto his face, saying with more certainty this time, “You do care.”
He turned and disappeared under the water before you could respond. 
And then you were alone on the cold shore. 
You sighed as you settled against the rocks, where you’d be spending the night you supposed. It was no worse than anywhere else you could think of in this city you knew so little about. 
You had nowhere to stay, no money to get yourself a room. If you’d had it, you would’ve spent it on fare for a ship to get yourself here. 
Or maybe you wouldn’t have. Maybe you would have been set in your ways, convinced you could just sneak on and save your money for where it would really count. Maybe things would have turned out exactly as they did. 
As you leaned back onto the rocky shore where you’d be spending the rest of your night, you tried to put the spiraling thoughts of what might have been out of your head. 
You stared up at the stars, already forgoing any thought of sleep. It wouldn’t be safe to sleep here anyway. Hopefully you could figure some sleeping arrangements out in the coming days. Keeping on like this might drive you mad. 
But for now, there was nothing to be done, no use worrying over it. All that was left was to wait til morning. 
519 notes · View notes
babybluewoso · 28 days
Text
Second chances in extra time (alessia russo x williamson!reader)
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(note: for the sake of this story please just pretend Alessia didn't signed up with man u)
The chill of the autumn morning lingered in the air as Y/N Williamson stepped onto the training pitch at London Colney. The familiar sights and sounds of the Arsenal Women’s training ground greeted her like an old friend, but today, there was an unfamiliar tension hanging over her.
It had been years since Y/N had last seen Alessia Russo, but the memories of their time together were still as vivid as ever. They had grown up together, two football-loving kids in a small town, inseparable in every way. Y/N had been taller, stronger even then, but Alessia had always been the fierce, determined one. They balanced each other out perfectly. And somewhere along the line, between endless matches in the park and stolen moments under the stars, they had fallen in love.
But then Alessia had been offered a scholarship to play football in the United States, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that neither of them could ignore. They had tried to make it work, promising each other that distance wouldn’t change anything, but reality had other plans. The calls became less frequent, the texts shorter, and eventually, they had drifted apart. The breakup had been mutual, but the pain was anything but.
Y/N had stayed in England, following in her sister Leah’s footsteps to play for Arsenal. She had grown stronger, taller, and more skilled, but with each passing year, she had also become more reserved. The bubbly, carefree girl she had once been was now a quiet, introspective woman. She had learned to keep her emotions close, sharing her deepest thoughts only with her sister.
Leah had been her rock through everything, always there to support her, even when it meant holding her hand through the pain of losing Alessia. And now, after all these years, Alessia Russo was back, having signed with Arsenal. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread at the thought of seeing her again.
But when the day finally came, and Y/N saw Alessia for the first time on the pitch, it wasn’t the reunion she had imagined. Alessia was still as beautiful as ever, with her piercing blue eyes and golden hair, but there was a hardness to her now, a coldness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.
“Look who it is,” Alessia said as she approached Y/N, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The famous Williamson sister. I see you’ve bulked up a bit.”
Y/N’s heart sank at the harsh tone. She had expected awkwardness, maybe even a little tension, but not outright hostility. She forced a smile, hoping to defuse the situation. “It’s good to see you again, Less.”
Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t let it show. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, at pretending that nothing could hurt her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Whatever,” Alessia muttered, brushing past her without another word.
Y/N watched her walk away, her chest tight with a mix of sadness and confusion. She didn’t understand why Alessia was acting this way. She had hoped that time would have healed the wounds between them, that they could at least be civil, but it seemed that Alessia was still holding onto the pain of their past.
------------
As the weeks went by, Alessia’s attitude toward Y/N didn’t improve. In fact, it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Every time Y/N tried to talk to her, Alessia would respond with a snide comment or a dismissive remark. She would criticize Y/N’s performance on the pitch, belittle her efforts, and make cutting remarks about her appearance. It was like Alessia was determined to push Y/N away, to make her feel as worthless as possible.
And it was working. Y/N, who was usually so strong, found herself retreating further and further into her shell. She stopped trying to engage with Alessia, opting instead to stay quiet and avoid her whenever possible. She focused on her training, throwing herself into every drill, every exercise, hoping to drown out the pain with physical exertion.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loss that gnawed at her heart. She missed the Alessia she had once known—the girl who had loved her fiercely and unapologetically. The girl who had made her feel like she was enough, just as she was. But that Alessia was gone, replaced by someone who seemed to hate her.
Leah noticed the change in her sister almost immediately. She had always been protective of Y/N, and seeing her so withdrawn, so defeated, broke her heart. Leah knew that something needed to be done, but she wasn’t sure how to fix the situation. She couldn’t force Alessia to be kind, and she couldn’t make Y/N stand up for herself if she didn’t want to.
But Leah wasn’t one to give up easily. She had always been a leader, on and off the pitch, and she was determined to find a way to help her sister. She started talking to the other players, those who had been around long enough to see the change in Y/N, and together, they came up with a plan.
---------------
One evening after training, Leah gathered a small group of players in the locker room—Beth Mead, Kim Little, Vivianne Miedema, and Katie McCabe. They were the core of the team, the ones who had seen Y/N grow into the player she was today, and they all cared deeply for her.
“Alright, we need to talk,” Leah began, her voice serious. “It’s about Y/N and Alessia.”
Beth nodded, leaning back against the bench. “Yeah, I’ve noticed the tension between them. It’s like walking on eggshells whenever they’re in the same room.”
“Exactly,” Leah agreed. “And Y/N isn’t handling it well. She’s pulling away, and that’s not like her. She’s always been so open, so loving, but now… I don’t know. She’s just not herself.”
“She’s hurting,” Kim said softly. “And it’s clear that Alessia is the cause of it. But why? What happened between them?”
Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They were together, a long time ago, before Alessia went to the States. They were childhood sweethearts, but the distance… it tore them apart. And now, I think Alessia is still in love with Y/N, but she’s angry. Angry that she still cares, angry that Y/N is here, and maybe even angry that Y/N has moved on—or at least, she thinks she has.”
“So what do we do?” Vivianne asked, crossing her arms. “We can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Y/N deserves better.”
Leah smiled, her eyes glinting with determination. “We’re going to bring them back together. We’re going to remind Alessia why she fell in love with Y/N in the first place, and show Y/N that Alessia’s anger isn’t really about her—it’s about the love she’s trying to deny.”
The others nodded in agreement, their minds already working on the details of the plan. It wouldn’t be easy, but they were determined to help Y/N and Alessia find their way back to each other. They had both suffered enough, and it was time for them to heal.
------------
The first step of the plan was simple: get Y/N and Alessia alone together, away from the pitch, away from the team, and in an environment where they couldn’t avoid talking to each other. Leah suggested a team bonding night at the pub, something they hadn’t done in a while. It was the perfect excuse to get everyone together, and with a little nudging, she convinced Y/N and Alessia to come along.
The pub was cozy, with low lighting and warm wooden furnishings. The team gathered around a large table, drinks in hand, and for a while, the atmosphere was light and cheerful. Y/N sat at one end of the table, nursing her drink and trying her best to stay engaged in the conversation, but her eyes kept drifting toward Alessia, who was sitting at the other end, looking just as uncomfortable.
Leah watched them both carefully, waiting for the right moment. When the conversation lulled, she leaned forward, catching Alessia’s eye. “Hey, Less, why don’t you and Y/N go grab another round for us? I think we’re running low.”
Alessia’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a cool nod. “Sure,” she said, standing up and glancing at Y/N. “You coming?”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but she nodded and stood up as well. “Yeah, okay.”
They walked to the bar together in silence, the tension between them almost palpable. Y/N could feel Alessia’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, unsure of what to say. She hated this—hated the awkwardness, the distance, the way Alessia made her feel like she was walking on eggshells.
As they reached the bar, Y/N cleared her throat, finally gathering the courage to speak. “Alessia, I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. I never wanted things to be like this between us.”
Alessia didn’t respond right away. She stared at the bartender as he poured their drinks, her jaw clenched tightly. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and laced with bitterness. “You didn’t do anything, Y/N. That’s the problem.”
Y/N blinked, taken aback by the harshness of her words. “What do you mean?”
Alessia let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You didn’t fight for me. When I left, you just… let me go. Like I didn’t matter.”
Y/N’s heart clenched at the accusation, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. Y/N’s throat tightened, a lump of guilt rising as Alessia’s words settled in. “I… I didn’t know what to do, Less. You had this amazing opportunity, and I thought—” She struggled to find her voice, every word feeling like a fragile confession. “I thought letting you go was the right thing.”
Alessia’s eyes flashed with anger as she spun to face Y/N. “The right thing? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Leaving everything behind, leaving you behind? You didn’t even try to stop me. You just stood there, like I didn’t mean anything to you.”
Y/N’s stomach dropped at the accusation, and for the first time, she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, refusing to let Alessia see her cry. “That’s not true, Alessia. You meant everything to me. You still do. I thought… I thought I was being selfless by not holding you back.”
Alessia’s gaze softened, just for a moment, but the anger quickly returned, a shield against the pain. “You should’ve fought for me,” she repeated, her voice breaking just enough to reveal the hurt underneath. “But you didn’t.”
Y/N stood there, frozen, feeling the weight of her past decisions crushing down on her. She had always been strong, always held herself together, but Alessia’s words cut deeper than anything she’d ever felt on the pitch. She had failed her—not by letting her go, but by not realizing how much Alessia had needed her to fight.
“I didn’t know how to,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I was scared of losing you… scared of making the wrong choice. I thought you wanted to be free, and I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t follow your dreams.”
Alessia’s eyes softened again, but this time, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she looked at Y/N for a long moment, the anger slowly draining from her expression. “I wanted you to come with me, Y/N. I would’ve given up everything to stay with you if you had asked. But you never did.”
Y/N’s heart shattered at the revelation, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek before she could stop it. “I didn’t know, Less. I didn’t know you felt that way. I was stupid, and I was scared, and I thought you were better off without me.”
Alessia sighed, the frustration finally ebbing away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. “I wasn’t better off without you. I’ve spent years trying to forget about you, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried.”
Y/N looked down at her hands, her chest aching with regret. “I never stopped thinking about you either. Not once.”
The silence between them was heavy, but this time, it wasn’t filled with anger or resentment. It was filled with the weight of everything they hadn’t said, of all the time they had lost. Y/N wanted to reach out, to take Alessia’s hand, but she didn’t know if she had the right anymore.
But Alessia was the one who made the first move. She sighed and, for the first time since they’d been reunited, the edge in her voice softened. “Y/N… it’s not all your fault. We both made mistakes.”
Y/N looked up, her heart pounding. “Does that mean…?”
Alessia glanced at her, something unspoken hanging in the air between them. “I don’t know what it means. But maybe… we don’t have to keep hurting each other.”
Y/N’s breath caught. This was the first glimmer of hope she’d felt in weeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, Less. I never did.”
Alessia gave her a small, tired smile. “I know.”
The bartender slid their drinks across the counter, and Alessia picked them up. As she handed one to Y/N, her fingers brushed against Y/N’s, sending a jolt of electricity through her. For a moment, their eyes met, and Y/N saw something there that she hadn’t seen in a long time: the flicker of the girl she used to know, the one who had loved her.
They returned to the table in silence, but this time, the tension between them was different. It wasn’t the suffocating weight of anger and regret—it was something softer, something that felt like the first step toward healing.
-------------------
Over the next few days, Y/N and Alessia didn’t talk much, but the harsh comments and cold stares stopped. Alessia seemed to be struggling with her own emotions, and Y/N gave her the space she needed. But Leah, ever the protective sister, wasn’t content to let things linger in awkward silence.
“We’re making progress,” Leah said, gathering the core group again in the locker room after practice. “But we need to do more. They’re clearly not going to talk unless we push them together.”
Katie McCabe grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Well, we’re a team. We can get creative. Maybe they need a little… forced bonding time.”
Beth raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we lock them in a room together until they sort things out?”
Katie shrugged. “Not a bad idea, is it?”
Leah laughed. “Let’s not go that far. But I do think we need to create a situation where they can’t just avoid each other.”
“Like what?” Vivianne asked.
“Like a team dinner, maybe,” Leah suggested. “Somewhere casual, low pressure. We can make sure they’re sitting next to each other. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll come up with something more drastic.”
The group nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with mischief. It wasn’t often that they got to play matchmaker, and they were determined to see it through.
That weekend, the team gathered at a cozy Italian restaurant in central London, the kind of place with candlelit tables and soft music in the background. Leah had made the seating arrangements, ensuring that Y/N and Alessia were placed right next to each other.
Y/N felt her heart rate spike as she took her seat beside Alessia, but Alessia didn’t seem as tense as before. In fact, she even managed a small smile when their eyes met. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give Y/N a flicker of hope.
As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed easily around the table. The team laughed, joked, and shared stories, and slowly, Y/N felt the tension between her and Alessia begin to melt away. At one point, Alessia leaned over and whispered something about one of the other players, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even herself.
For the first time in a long time, it felt easy. Natural. Like maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.
After dinner, as the team spilled out onto the street, Leah nudged Y/N gently. “Walk Alessia home,” she whispered.
Y/N hesitated, but Leah gave her a reassuring smile. “Go on. It’s time.”
Y/N swallowed her nerves and turned to Alessia. “Hey, do you want some company on the way home?”
Alessia looked surprised for a moment, but then she nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”
They walked in comfortable silence through the quiet London streets, the cool night air brushing against their skin. Y/N’s heart raced with every step, but she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until they reached Alessia’s building that she finally spoke.
“I’ve missed you,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.
Alessia paused, her keys in hand, and looked up at Y/N. Her expression softened, and for a moment, Y/N saw the girl she had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“I’ve missed you too,” Alessia admitted quietly.
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Y/N took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “Do you think… we could try again?”
Alessia’s eyes searched Y/N’s face for a long moment, as if weighing her options. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. I think we can.”
And with that, the distance between them melted away. Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Alessia, pulling her close. It felt like coming home.
--------------
From that moment on, things between Y/N and Alessia began to heal. The bitterness and anger faded, replaced by the love that had always been there, buried beneath the hurt. They took things slow, rebuilding the trust they had lost, but it wasn’t long before they were back to where they had once been—laughing, teasing, and loving each other with the same intensity as before.
And this time, Y/N wasn’t going to let Alessia go. Not again.
The rest of the team watched their relationship blossom with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that they had played a small part in bringing them back together. Leah, in particular, was overjoyed to see her sister happy again, and she made sure to remind Y/N every chance she got that family—and love—was worth fighting for.
And so, as the seasons changed and the matches came and went, Y/N and Alessia faced every challenge together. They were stronger, not just as teammates, but as partners, and they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.
Because this time, they weren’t letting go.
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pokechbi · 1 year
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“I bled for you, dear. You are mine now.”
WHEWWIEEE this one’s a bit different than my usual ones. Hope you all enjoy! 💗
As always, EVERY single interaction is so so greatly appreciated!!
- (Obsessive/Psychotic) König x fem reader
- 18+ MDNI !!!
- CW: blood, SH
- Not my usual smut, pt 2 with more smut is otw!
💗💗
Maybe it was your eyes. Everyone always told you that your eyes were the most expressive part of you. Or maybe it was your hair. The way it hung loosely around your shoulders, sinuously curly and sticking to your forehead when you sweat. Or was it your body? The way your clothes fit snugly against your curves, accentuating the parts of yourself you tried hiding the most. You didn’t know what it was about you that captivated him so badly. That made him like you. That made him utterly infatuated with you. 
His failed attempts at subtlety rang through your mind at the end of your work days, your brain swirling with possibilities and hopeless, endless cycles of painful obsessions. His behavior was unhealthy. Obsessive. One of a stalker. But you found yourself thinking of him at night, your mind being your worst enemy. You knew he wasn’t right in the head. He wasn’t right at all. No one in his line of work could be. His hands were bathed in the blood of more men than you could ever comprehend. His mind was filled with constant thoughts of death, battle, fighting, killing. He was a beast of a man, physically and mentally incapable of compassion. In no way was he made for any kind of lasting relationship. And you knew that. Yet, as your fingers made their way between your legs at night, thoughts of him on the battlefield slashing, stabbing, shooting, strangling, penetrated your mind like a train in a tunnel too small. 
You’d see him at least twice a week in the infirmary. You’d stitched his mysterious wounds countless times, your flesh burning with every feathery brush of your hands against his skin. Like a snail to salt. You knew it was wrong. You knew as a mandated reporter, you were legally required to report any suspicion of self harm. But you didn’t. And you felt as if you were betraying your very existence to cater to the psychotic needs of the man who you knew had a few screws missing for your own selfish desires. He never spoke much. Just sat there, looming over your small frame, causing your breathing to heave and your hands to tremor. He made you tense. You made him tense. The palpable tension between you just a ticking time bomb, ready to impale any passersby with the sharp shrapnel of his infatuation with you. 
It seemed that every time he came to you, his wounds got worse. But they started small. Harmless. A gash in his porcelain flesh, just a few gauzes needed to stop the bleeding in order for it to heal itself. And as many times as you lied to yourself, thinking: maybe it was from training. Maybe he’d lost control of his knife, accidentally cutting himself or mishandling it. And deep down, you knew it wasn’t. You knew he had been purposely hurting himself. Just to see you. To you, it was charming. Fascinating. And it shouldn’t have been. Every cell in your body screamed for it not to get to you. But you saw his harming himself a certain kind of devotion to you. A showing of his ultimate loyalty to you, even though you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to each other outside of medical talk. 
He’d been acting this way for months now. Too afraid to approach you with his feelings directly, but not afraid to leave you with constant, subtle reminders of his existence. The smell of him left on the sheet of the hospital bed. The boot scuffs on the floor, yet to be mopped up by housekeeping.  The idea of him hurting himself just to come sit on the hard, too-small bed just to see you, conjured a feeling in you that made you nauseous. His behavior was sickening. It truly was. And you knew, with every visit how his wounds got worse, bloodier, deeper…it was only a matter of time. 
He sat on the bed, staring down at you through his sniper hood with his arms limp at his sides as you worked on them. His gaze burned a hole through your head, searing any incoming distracting thoughts with thoughts of him. What he must have looked like under that mask. What his skin felt like. What kind of sounds he would make when he fucked. How dangerously big his cock was. And no matter how hard you fought those thoughts with every fiber of your being, the wetness between your legs was a telltale sign. He had you. He needed you. And like a moth to a lamp, you found yourself secretly chasing that high that plagued your senses every time he was near. 
Your mind was hyper aware of his every move, every breath. The tension in the room constricts you, making you feel as if the air thickened with his very presence. Your skin burned with every graze of his, the hairs on your arms standing to attention. Before you even made it into the room, you knew he was there. Waiting. Stalking your every step until you made it into the room with him. And before you entered, the fuzz on your neck stood erect. Your gut sensing danger, a predator with nothing but sexually malicious intent awaiting your arrival. 
This was your last straw. There had to be a way for this to end. For the never ending silent fight, the vicious cycle of wanting him, hating him, being disgusted by him, being turned on by his very stance. You were almost done stitching him, your gloves bathed in his dark, thick blood. He never so much as winced as you secured the sutures, dabbing the wound with disinfectant. You rolled back in your chair, tossing your gloves onto the rolling metal tray beside you. And as always, he hopped off the bed, looming over you with a steady foot and a half above you as you briefed him on how to clean his wound. But before he could hastily make his way back to his quarters to do God knows what, you absentmindedly grabbed his bicep. He tensed under your touch, never turning to meet your face. Your throat dries painfully as you try to speak, your delicate hands and freshly done nails begging to dig themselves into his scarred skin as he fucked you in a frenzy of predatory sexual hunger. 
“König.” You manage to release. Your voice was practically a squeak, making you feel smaller under him than you already were. As if you needed to feed into his nauseating predatorial instinct even more. You cleared your throat, approaching him. With every step you took, his presence sucked away each and every atom of oxygen from you. A pitiless, dangerous black hole that threatened to drain the life from you with its bare hands. 
“What are you doing to yourself?” You ask, your voice breaking and cracking. You hated showing him that you were weak. That you were ready to be pounced at, mercilessly eviscerated. And in all honesty, you liked that you were. It was shameful. The way he stood, unspeaking and nauseatingly smug at your worry made you want to drop to your knees and get yourself off on his boots while he watched you shamefully. You wanted him to humiliate you. To degrade every ounce of dignity in you and then more. 
“I know this isn’t from training, sir.” You say, running your thumb gently over his fresh sutures. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your mouth and tongue suddenly dry and coarse. You pressed into the matter further, just wanting to beat at his chest until he spoke. Hating him for forcing you to care about him. You were done with this game. The cat and mouse facade that masked the filthy desires swirling between the two of you. He turned to face you slowly, craning your neck to look at his eyes. The egoistic smile in his eyes, the one he made no effort to hide behind his mask. 
“Little maus…” Although his voice was gentle, it still boomed through your eardrums. His German accent wet and thick on his tongue. You keep your grip on his arm, as if the feeling of your skin against his would keep your feet on the ground. “Can’t you see? I do it for you.” He lets out a sigh, reaching a hand up to graze your cheek. “I bleed for you, schatz.” He stepped closer to you, speaking as if it were completely obvious that he sliced himself, made himself gush impossible amounts, just for you. And a part of you always knew. You were always aware, always aware how it turned you on that such a man would do such things for a woman like you. 
He looked down at his arm, your grip tightening and fingertips pressing into his stitches. He lets out a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering closed as you absentmindedly dug your fingers into his gash. You stared at him, dumbfounded. You feel warmth pool under your fingertips, glancing down at his now bleeding flesh. 
“Fuck! I-I’m so sorry. Let me get some-”
“Harder.” He reaches forward hastily, grabbing your arm and stopping you in your tracks. Your lips hang agape, your face growing hot and your breathing growing heavier. He pulls at your arm, bringing you towards him. The room suddenly felt much smaller, threatening to crush you in its walls. The concept of what he wanted you to do made you woozy, your stomach queasy with disgust. But a deep part of you was fascinated by it, a sleeping beauty kissed awake by the nauseatingly beautiful devotion he showed to you. To want to please you. To show you how ready he was to drop dead. Just for you. Even if it were by the woman he loved most. 
You stare between his eyes, noticing how his gaze grew softer as you pressed your fingers into his bleeding flesh. He cried out, a disgusting mixture of pain and pleasure lacing his moans. You stepped closer to him, ignoring the feeling of his hot blood trickling down your wrist. You move your thumb around his stitches as you approach his chest, slowly running your hands up his muscles. You stopped below the hem of his mask, twirling it in your fingers. His hand shot up to your wrist, squeezing it with a force you could only describe as starved. Without words, he moves your hand to his stomach. You feel the muscles under his shirt flex as he guides your hand down his abdomen. You don’t think before you do it, but nothing in that moment could’ve stopped you from giving him exactly what he needed. He bled for you. Sliced himself wide open for you. He showed his devotion for you the only way he knew how. By shedding his own blood. Just for you. 
You work on his belt buckle, the warm blood weeping from his arm now trickling down to your elbow. As you got his pants open, you noticed it. He was already hard. Practically throbbing for your touch. His breathing grew strained, his head dipping down. You felt a smile twitch on your lips. The world around you seemed to be gone, and it was only you and him in this distasteful moment. You, him, his twitching cock and his bleeding arm.  As you took the tip of him into your hand, the warmth of his blood grew hotter as you pressed your thumb deeper into the gash. You stroke him, while simultaneously pushing your thumb forward, eliciting the pained and pleasured moans from the gigantic man before you. 
You see him look down, your small hands seeming smaller in comparison to the length and thickness of his dick. He reaches an ungloved hand towards yours, wrapping his large hand over yours. He guides your strokes, the combined warmth of his length and blood traveling through your body and settling in your core. He continued using your hand to jerk himself as his body twitched and slumped, knees bending slightly. You smile, no longer trying to fight the disgusting feelings that plagued your mind. You liked it. You shouldn’t have. But you did. The nausea that rose from your stomach only fueled you more, squeezing his cock harder as he continued stroking himself with your hand. 
“Harder, my love. Bitte, ich mache alles. Mach es härter.” (Please, I’ll do anything. Do it harder.) He breathed, his body jerking with painful bliss. You do as he asked, pressing your thumb into his weeping flesh harder. You weren’t concerned how much he was bleeding now, only getting him to come. This was an irreversible, irresponsible decision. You crossed a line with him, and a deep part of you knew. You fought the looming dread that threatened to ruin the moment. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you. And in some twisted, cruel way, you didn’t mind. It was dangerous. It was far beyond recovery. There was no way in hell he was letting you go without dying first. And your newfound sick, twisted desires catered to his very agenda. 
“F-fuck…I’m gonna…” His hand painfully squeezed yours, your fingers incapable of moving under his grip. You felt his cock twitch as you continued digging your thumb into his wound, the warmth of his blood bathing one hand, while the heat of his hot cum wetly coated the other. He lets out a string of moans and whines, his grip weakening over your hand. He breathes heavily into the air, your thumb releasing from his flesh. You let go of his cock, both your hands coated in the liquids that came from his soul. In some gruesome, macabre way, you enjoyed it. Loved it, even. The newfound feelings swirled through your mind and made your lips curl into absentminded grin. 
The sound of his belt buckle seemed to bring you back down to earth, causing you to rush to the sink and throw the faucet on. You washed your hands, looking down at your arm, now coated in blood. All of your feelings hit you all at once, feeling a strong nausea bubble in your stomach. Before you knew it, you were heaving into the sink, your knees wobbly and threatening to give out under you. You didn’t know why you threw up. You’d seen all kinds of gore, been covered in blood countless times. But this was something else. Something damaging. The looming dread growing darker over your head. You hear König shuffle, approaching you from behind. You feel his large hand caress your back, a soft gesture that did nothing to comfort you from the cold, dark things you’d just done. 
“I’m afraid I’ll need some new stitches, dear.” He says, a smile evident in his voice. You nodded your head, feeling airy as you stood up from the sink. You didn’t know what you would do now, the clarity hitting you like a truck. There was no escaping this. No escaping him. You sat him down again, resuturing his wound. 
“This cannot happen again, König.” You say sternly, hastily finishing his stitches and cleaning his arm with disinfectant. You stand from your chair, hands on your hips as you pace the room. He stood from the bed, walking over to you. Before you could squeak another word out, his hands were cupping both of your cheeks, your neck craning up to meet his gaze. 
“It can…and it will, schatz.” He says, a soft tremor in his voice. And in an effort to combat your fears of him, he swiftly throws the mask off of his head, hishelmet clattering to the floor. You look at him, lips parted. His strong jaw was lined with a dirty blonde stubble, his lips perfectly shaped balanced with the rest of his face. His nose sat crookedly between his eyes, permanently misshapen from breaking it so many times. His eyes, strong and grey, bored into your soul as if he was looking into every possible detail there was to know about you. He dipped his head down, pulling your face towards his as he crashed his lips into yours. You moan into the kiss, his hands keeping your head still as he forces you to keep your lips stuck to his. 
He parts from the kiss, looking between your eyes with a deceivingly soft gaze. He leaves you in a stupor as he bends to pick his mask up off the floor, slipping his helmet on over his head. You stand dumbfounded, tears welling in your eyes as you scramble to handle your newfound feelings. 
“I bled for you, dear. You are mine now.”
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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 3 months
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𓅨 Eros: Chapter Seven
Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…
Warnings: Nothing Explicit, Nudity, Language.
To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.
Word Count: ~2.1k
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The grand throne room of the Dreaming is shrouded in an atmosphere of unease. The usually calm and composed Morpheus sits on his intricately carved throne, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the marble in aggravation. His queen has vanished without a trace, and an uncharacteristic worry clouds his thoughts.
Lucienne, the loyal librarian, stands nearby, her face reflecting the same concern, and Matthew perches on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, his dark eyes flickering with anxiety.
“My lord, it has been two days,” Lucienne begins softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “We have searched every corner of the Dreaming. There is no sign of her.”
Morpheus’ usually serene blue eyes are stormy with frustration and fear. “She cannot simply have disappeared, Lucienne. We are bound together. There must be something we are missing.”
Matthew ruffles his feathers, shifting uneasily. “Boss, you don’t think it’s some kind of magic, do you? Someone messing with the Dreaming? Or worse, with her?”
Morpheus’ gaze hardens, and he looks down at Matthew, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought. “If she has been taken by magic, then the perpetrator will know the full extent of my wrath. But we must consider every possibility.”
Lucienne nods, stepping closer. “Perhaps we should review her last known whereabouts. Was there anything unusual in her behavior recently? Any disturbances in the Dreaming that could have indicated a threat?”
Morpheus’ mind races through the events of the past days. He has been preoccupied with the duties of the Dreaming, but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. “She mentioned feeling restless,” he admits. “She often spoke of her desire to walk in the Waking World.”
Matthew tilts his head. “Actually, boss, there was something. Just before she disappeared, she went to check out the Ocean of Dreams. There was a storm, and she thought something was wrong. She dove in to investigate.”
Morpheus’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and anger flashing across his face. “Why was I not informed of this sooner, Matthew?”
The raven flinches slightly, his feathers ruffling. “I’m sorry, boss. She told me to go get Lucienne, and by the time I got back, she was already gone and never came back up. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at the ocean after she disappeared.”
Lucienne looks thoughtful. “The Ocean of Dreams is a powerful and ancient part of your realm, my lord. If she went into it and encountered something unexpected...”
Morpheus stands abruptly, his robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. “Then she may be trapped within its depths or worse. I must go there myself.”
Lucienne nods. “I will continue searching the archives for any records of disturbances in the Ocean of Dreams. There may be something we’ve overlooked.”
Morpheus turns to Matthew. “You will gather the ravens. I want them scouring the Dreaming and the Waking World for any sign of her. Leave no stone unturned.”
Matthew nods, taking off to carry out his task. Lucienne bows and quickly departs for the library, her mind already racing through the possible texts she will need to consult. Left alone in the vast throne room, Morpheus lets out a slow breath. His connection with his queen, so strong and vibrant, is eerily silent. He cannot sense her anywhere, and that absence gnaws at him.
As he strides out of the throne room, determination etched into his features, he reaches out with his senses, feeling the vast expanse of the Dreaming. He will dive into the Ocean of Dreams himself if necessary. The thought of her being trapped, alone, fills him with a fear he rarely acknowledges.
With every step, he resolves to uncover the mystery of her disappearance, to bring her back to his side where she belongs. He will not rest until his queen is safe once more. Morpheus arrives at the shores of the Ocean of Dreams, the usually tranquil waters now churning with an undercurrent of unease. He stands at the edge, his eyes scanning the horizon, feeling the pull of the ocean's ancient magic. He will find her, no matter the cost.
Taking a deep breath, he wades into the water, letting its cold embrace wash over him. As he dives deeper, the currents grow stronger and more aggressive, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. He reaches out with his mind, seeking any trace of her presence, any clue that could lead him to her.
The depths of the Ocean of Dreams are vast and mysterious, but Morpheus is relentless. He will search every corner, face every danger, to bring his queen back. His love for her is deeper and more powerful than any magic, and he will not rest until she is safely in his arms once more.
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Morpheus paces the floor of your shared chambers, the ethereal light casting long shadows across the room. His normally composed demeanor is shattered by the torment of not knowing where you are. He has scoured the Dreaming, reached into every nook and cranny of his realm, and found nothing. Even the Ocean of Dreams has turned up nothing! His thoughts race as he considers who could have caused your disappearance. His anger simmers beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.
His mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, but none seem plausible. You are powerful, and the protections around the Dreaming are impenetrable. It would take formidable magic to whisk you away without a trace. He stops his pacing and runs a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a flicker of a memory—your wedding, the joy in your eyes, the warmth of your touch. He had asked you whatever you wished for, he would give you… you had told him that all you wished for, was him, and he had only fallen deeper in love with you.
He is about to turn to make another round of the room when a shimmering light appears, and you are suddenly standing in your shared bedchambers. You are naked as the day you were born with wide round eyes and shock plastered across your features. Morpheus should have been staring at the state you are in—love marks covering your body and evidence of lovemaking thoroughly coating your thighs—but memories flood his mind like a rampant tidal wave.
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You wake with your face buried in a pillow smelling of marjoram and flowers. Feeling like your entire body is one big ache, you struggle to roll over onto your back and blow the hair out of your face. You blink a few times, making sure that you do, in fact, still have legs, before trying to roll to the edge of the bed. Son of a—
“This is ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself, feeling embarrassed that you are this sore from copious sex alone. Oneiros certainly has a healthy appetite for the indulgences of the flesh. You wouldn’t complain though, you haven’t seen that catastrophic glower of sadness and devastation upon his face in days. Job well done, you suppose. But you really need a bath... you glance down at your thighs and cringe. Your combined releases are smeared all over your discolored thighs, and when you stand up, you all but moan out loud when you feel it dripping from you.
“Bath, definitely need a bath,” you grimace, nearly waddling forward on what feels like newborn legs. Mustering up the strength, you take careful steps, teetering around on sore muscles. But as you make it to the center of the room, a flash of electricity runs along your skin, and your vision goes black. Floundering for a few seconds, you force yourself to remain calm until your vision returns moments later… but you are certainly not in the same place as you were a second ago.
Blinking away black dots, your eyes go round the moment you spot Morpheus standing not far from you, frozen where he stands. He looks disheveled and ill, paler than you have ever seen him. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved.
“Morpheus?” you question in a small voice, your voice cracking a little from soreness and the shock of the sudden change in surroundings. Morpheus remains still, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had thought he would never see you again, feared the worst had befallen you. The sight of you standing before him, albeit disheveled and confused, is like a caress to his tortured soul.
How many weeks has he spent looking for you after you disappeared from his bed into thin air? Endless. It was impossible to understand your sudden disappearance from Athens. He had wallowed in misery and despair, the absence of your presence weighing heavily on his heart until he ultimately moved on.
“αστέρι μου,” his voice is raw with emotion, his usual composure shattered in the wake of your sudden return. Your brain connects what is going on in his head. He is remembering you. His gaze drops to your body, and you shift as a flush crawls up your neck.
“In my defense, you seduced me first,” you softly mutter, not seeing the raging jealousy flashing through silver-blue eyes. You think, perhaps, that he would be angry at you for having sex with his past self, and he would certainly have every right to be so… but that is not what is running through his mind. All Morpheus can think about is how Oneiros has indulged in your body and repeatedly filled you with his seed. Jealousy rears its ugly head all the while the Endless can’t help but feel an intense lust for you. He wants to reclaim you from Oneiros. Right. Now.
Your heart pounds in your chest as Morpheus takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness. Then, in an instant, he is on you. His lips crash against yours in aggressive possession as a hand buries itself into your mussed hair. You can feel the intensity of his need in the way he kisses you, a mix of hunger and desperation that sends shivers down your spine.
You instinctively grab onto his shoulders, not quite expecting this aggressive onslaught but also not wanting to fight it. His kiss is raw, unfettered, a testament to the depth of his feelings. As your minds meld once more, you can feel the mixture of relief, desire, and possessiveness radiating from him in waves.
His hands move from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer. The hard lines of his muscular body press against you, reminding you of the intense passion the two of you have shared. The desperation in his kiss becomes more apparent and your own desire stirs within you. The realization dawns on you that he is trying to reclaim you from Oneiros. The clothes have to go.
“Clothes,” you barely manage to eke out between tongue-tying kisses that leave you feeling drunk. His lips never leave yours as Morpheus dissolves his clothing from his body and pulls you against his naked flesh. As he envelops your body in his strong embrace, your skin tingles with the sensation of his warm, bare skin against yours. His touch is electric, a mixture of tenderness and urgency that brings forth a whirlwind of emotions.
His hands roam over your curves, tracing every line, every contour, sending a storm of desire coursing through your veins. Each touch, each kiss, is a claim, a valid reaffirmation that you belong to him. The memory of Oneiros fades into oblivion as Morpheus' deep, silken voice whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
"You are mine, and only mine," he growls, his eyes burning with possession and an intense desire to make you his own once again. It is a claim that reverberates through your very soul, leaving you breathless and completely under his control.
“For as long as you shall want me,” you return, raising your hands to cup his face. His eyes flare with intensity, fueled by the raw desire that courses through his body. He knows that his claim to you is unmistakable, yet he can't help but feel the reassurance in your words. “But I do have to ask…”
Morpheus’s eyes glow as he waits for you to air your question.
“Are you jealous?” You watch as his expression twists with a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and, yes, jealousy. It is an emotion he has kept well-hidden, but seeing it now, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
"You think I would be jealous?" he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous.”
Well, shit.
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Date Published: 6/12/24
Last Edit: 6/11/24
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daenysx · 5 months
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hii, rockstar!reader here, i just love the way you wrote them!!! can i request more pretty please? maybe reader is too sick to perform and has to postpone a show she was really looking foward to? and james tries to cheer her up?
thank you for requesting, i hope you like this one too!! (if you wanna check the first fic i wrote for bodyguard!james x rockstar!reader, it's here, but this is not really a second part so you can read them separately)
bodyguard!james potter x rockstar!reader ♡
"james, i have to."
"tell me your reasons without coughing and i will accept, sweetheart."
this is the third time you try to leave your bed. james disagrees, you act like you can run to the stage and sing your songs like you always do, but well- you can't. you can't even form two sentences without your throat bothering you, endless coughs and teardrops complete the sickness trio.
you are sad, your body hurts and not being on the same side with james doesn't help. you put your head back to your pillow, your eyes are begging to be closed. it's so hard, being betrayed by your own body when you have somewhere else to be.
james stands next to your bed, he has his usual attire. he bends down, reaches the same level as your face. you look at him with sad eyes, hoping he'll do something. he takes your hand in his hand, gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.
"i'm really sorry." james says. "i know how much you wanted to play here."
you can't help a tear rolling down on your cheek. it makes your breathing even harder, you sit up to get some air in your lungs. james is on his knees next to your bed, he wanders a soft hand on your back.
"please, don't cry." he says, he sounds really really upset. "you'll make yourself worse, calm down, angel."
"i hate being sick." you say. he gives you a smile that says he knows. he's your bodyguard, he is always ready to protect you. it's difficult for him to see you unwell when he can't do anything about it.
"okay." james starts, voice determined. he rubs a gentle thumb on your tears to dry them. you are focused on his touch and for a moment you forget what you are doing. "we both should be calm if we want you better as soon as possible."
you nod. he's helping, you should do your part. you can't lift your body from bed but you can at least show him you care about his words.
"you need to eat something before taking your medications." he says as he helps you lie down. "anything you want? we can order soup."
he walks through the room to get the meds doctor gave you. he is moving quickly, thinking quickly like it's an operation for saving you from bad guys. he brings you a clean, thin tank top to change into, you manage to wear it without making it hard for james. he opens the window only for a few minutes to get you some fresh air, fixes your sheets without moving you too much. in these 5 minutes after he offers you food, he fixes the entire room for you without even trying too hard.
when he finally finishes the little things on the list he has on his mind, he finally comes next to you. you motion for him to sit, sadness lingers in your eyes but you do feel better. "thank you, james." you say quietly. "you don't have to-"
"come on, sweetheart." he cuts your sentence with a small smile. "you know i'm not doing all of these only because i'm your bodyguard."
you nod, he holds your hand. he looks at you like you're gonna break, like you are someone precious. he pushes your hair back with his free hand, you can see his gentle eyes through his glasses.
"my voice is terrible." you say, just to change the topic. "it doesn't even feel like my voice."
"there's no way i'd ever think your voice is terrible. you'll be better soon, i promise." he says, he means every word. "you'll have a show here one day."
you try to stay strong. you can handle it. if james says you'll be better, then you have to believe him. you give his fingers a weak squeeze. "so you think my voice is cool?" you ask, james relaxes finally when he hears the teasing tone.
"you now have the deep, scratchy voice of a rockstar, angel. you can give me a little concert after you finish your soup, if you want."
you nod, your mind is too tired and foggy from sickness. james tells you a few soup options after that, and you go with your usual choice. he orders it for you, gives you a cool glass of water when you wait for the food.
your throat finally feels a bit better, you realize it when you wake up from the nap you took after your soup and medications. you can at least swallow without hurting. james is fast asleep on the chair he carried next to your bed, his hand still holds yours. you don't move to let him sleep more, it's uncomfortable for him but he once told you he can sleep at anywhere in any position so you trust his word.
you try to go back to sleep, looking at your hero. you can't help but stroking the back of his hand with you thumb. "do you feel better?" james whispers, already awake but still in his sleeping position.
"yes." you whisper back. "you can sleep next to me if you want. i promise i won't cough on you."
he moves under the darkness of your room. he got rid of his jacket hours ago and he quickly settles down on your bed after he puts his glasses on your nightstand. he's more brave when it's dark, you realize. you like this new progress.
he pulls you to his arms, his chest becomes your new pillow. he holds you closer, until your breathing goes normal. "you can cough anytime you want, angel. i have a good immune system."
you smile against his chest. it's the best sleep you had in weeks when you finally close your eyes.
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