#these three are roommates in a Slice of Life AU I created with a friend where almost all of our Undertale OCs live in the same city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minnie--verse · 1 month

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Pen Pals -- A Park Sunghoon Fic

!!PART 3!!

(link to pt. 1) // (link to pt. 2)

Summary: You, Ren, are a college student, taking what you thought would be a normal composition class—until you’re assigned a pen pal with your professor’s second class. What happens when you fall for someone you know… but dont?

pairing: sunghoon x f!reader(ren)

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include possible angst//comfort, slow burn.

general warnings: college students!mc, slow burn, love square, swearing, possible adult content in future chapters.

word count: ~6.7k

!!this is not proof read!!

thank u for reading<3

— — —

Sunny,

It’s nice to hear back from you. I have to admit, your letters have become something I look forward to—they’re a break from the routine, a small moment of connection in an otherwise hectic day.

I read your letter about your art final and your friend. It made me think about how different our paths are, yet how they somehow align in these letters. You’re creating things, bringing art to life, while I’m more the type to observe and analyze. My days are mostly filled with reading, writing, and, if I’m lucky, a bit of quiet in between.

You mentioned how your friend keeps you grounded. I get that. My roommate does the same for me. He’s always trying to push me out of my comfort zone, to see the world from a different angle. I guess you could say he keeps things interesting, even if his methods are a bit... unorthodox.

It’s strange, isn’t it? How we’re connected by these letters, yet know so little about each other. But I think that’s part of what makes this interesting. It’s like we’re sharing pieces of ourselves in a way that we might not with people we see every day.

The snowy night I wrote about—there’s something about snow that makes the world feel quiet, almost like it’s pausing to let you catch your breath. I imagine your art might capture that feeling in some way, the way you described working on your final project. There’s beauty in those moments of stillness, don’t you think?

I’d like to hear more about your art and how you see the world through your creations. And of course, anything else you feel like sharing. It’s nice to have someone to write to, even if we’re just pen pals.

Talk to you later, Snow

— — —

You sit in the corner of the bustling cafeteria, the sounds of chatter and clinking cutlery filling the air around you. It’s lunchtime, but the food on your tray remains untouched as you unfold Snow’s letter, your eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. The cafeteria feels miles away as you begin to read.

His words pull you in, and before you know it, you’ve read the letter twice, maybe three times. There’s something about the way he writes, the way he shares these little slices of his life with you, that makes you feel like you’re getting to know him in a way that’s deeper than just surface-level.

You find yourself lingering on the part about his roommate, imagining what this nameless person might be like. From what Snow described, it sounds like he’s the opposite of Snow—more outgoing, maybe a bit of a troublemaker, but someone who’s trying to bring Snow out of his shell. The dynamic feels familiar in a way, reminding you of your own friendship with Callie.

You take a sip of your drink, mulling over the growing interest you have in these exchanges. It’s not just the content of his letters, but the person behind them—someone thoughtful, introspective, and maybe even a little lonely. You can’t help but wonder what he’s like in person, though you know that’s not something you can just ask. There’s an unspoken rule in these letters, a line neither of you has crossed yet.

As you reread his letter, you feel a warmth spread through you, a comfort in knowing that someone out there is taking the time to write to you, to share a part of themselves. It’s something you hadn’t expected when the assignment started, but now, you find yourself looking forward to each new letter, wondering what Snow will say next.

The cafeteria continues to buzz around you, but for a moment, it’s just you and Snow’s words, connecting across a space that feels more like a bridge than a gap. You feel a strange mix of anticipation and contentment as you fold the letter back into its envelope, carefully tucking it away in your bag.

As you finish your lunch, your thoughts drift to what you’ll write in return. There’s a sense of wanting to share more, to keep this connection going, even if it’s just through ink and paper. Snow’s right—there’s something beautiful about the stillness he described, something you might try to capture in your art.

But there’s also something more you want to share, something lighter, maybe even a bit playful. After all, Snow’s letters have become a small, unexpected joy in your life, and you want to reflect that back to him.

You’re lost in your thoughts, Snow’s letter still lingering in your mind as you take a sip of your drink, when you hear a familiar voice—smooth, quiet, and unmistakably him.

“Ren.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you look up, startled. Standing there, just a few feet from your table, is Sunghoon. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes, and there’s that usual unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, you just blink at him, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

“Sunghoon,” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady as you process the fact that he’s here, in the cafeteria, talking to you. You weren’t expecting to see him again so soon after your library encounter, and definitely not here, now, while you’re still thinking about Snow.

He looks down at the seat across from you, a silent question in his eyes. You nod, and he sits down, placing his tray on the table. He glances at your untouched food, then back at you, his expression still difficult to read.

“You looked… deep in thought,” he says, his voice low and calm. “Something on your mind?”

You feel a slight blush creep up your cheeks as you realize how absorbed you must’ve looked. “Just… a letter,” you say, trying to downplay the significance of it. “I was rereading it.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow slightly, his gaze briefly flicking to your bag where you’ve tucked the letter away. “From a friend?”

You glance at the letter, then back at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s… an assignment for Composition class?”

His eyes widen slightly in recognition, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. “Wait, you’re taking that too? We must be in the opposite classes.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the coincidence, “Oh really? I didn’t think much of it at first, but it’s actually been kind of nice. How about you?”

Sunghoon nods, taking a bite of his lunch before responding. “Same here. I thought it was just a pointless assignment, but it’s not bad.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you remember how skeptical you’d been at the start. “Yeah, I was pretty skeptical too. It seemed like just another thing to do for class. But once I started, it was... different. More personal than I thought.”

He smiles, and you can tell he’s on the same page. “Yeah—it’s easier to talk to someone without the physical interaction.”

“There’s definitely something strange about it,” you agree, your thoughts drifting back to Snow’s letter. “Like, you’re sharing these little pieces of yourself with a complete stranger, and it makes you think about things in a different way.”

Sunghoon nods, looking like he’s considering your words. “Yeah. I guess it’s a nice change. I enjoy being anonymous, and waiting to see what she says.”

You find yourself smiling more, feeling a warmth in the conversation. “Exactly. It’s like a little surprise each time. I’ve started looking forward to it, even if it’s just for the sake of curiosity.”

His eyes briefly flicker to the envelope again, but he quickly looks away, not wanting to pry too much. “So, how’s your pen pal’s writing? Do you find it interesting?”

You think about Snow’s eloquent words and how much they’ve resonated with you. “Yeah, it’s actually quite nice. They’ve been really expressive about their thoughts and experiences. It’s refreshing to read.”

He nods, seeming to understand completely. “Mine’s been pretty good too. I think the anonymity of it makes it easier to open up in a way.”

You both share a moment of silent agreement, appreciating the irony of discussing your pen pals while keeping your own identities hidden. The conversation shifts to more mundane topics—classes, weekend plans, and the usual college life chatter—but there’s a subtle undercurrent of something more meaningful beneath it all.

Sunghoon’s gaze drifts around the bustling cafeteria, “People watching? That seems like a fancy way of saying you’re nosy.”

You roll your eyes, “If you wanna be negative about it then yeah, sure. Nosy. I just like to see what people are up to, you know? Decipher their story.”

Sunghoon looks around the room, scanning the diverse crowd. “Okay, let’s start with that group of friends over by the window.”

You follow his gaze and start to analyze the scene. “Yeah, they look like they’re having a great time. The girl in the red sweater is laughing so hard her glasses are slipping down her nose. She’s clearly the life of the party. The guy next to her in the black hoodie seems to be trying to make a joke, but it’s not landing as well—he’s got that ‘awkward but trying’ look.”

Sunghoon chuckles, clearly enjoying the insight. “How about the couple over by the food counter?”

You glance over and see the couple in question. “Oh, them? The guy seems a bit impatient, like he’s waiting for his food to come faster. Meanwhile, the girl is chatting animatedly with the server, probably trying to make a connection or get a special order. It’s like they’re in their own little world, and he’s just trying to keep up.”

Sunghoon nods, clearly impressed with your detailed observations. “That’s pretty spot-on. What about them, huddled around a laptop?”

You look over and analyze the situation. “They’re working on a group project, I’d say. The girl in the blue scarf seems to be the one taking charge, pointing at the screen with a lot of enthusiasm. The guy next to her is nodding along, but he looks a bit overwhelmed. He’s probably trying to keep up with all the ideas being thrown around

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the process. “I didn’t realize how much you could pick up from just observing. It’s like you’re seeing a whole story unfold without them even knowing you.”

You smile, enjoying the shared activity. “Exactly. It’s fascinating to see how people interact and what little details tell you about their mood or situation. It’s almost like creating a narrative from real life.”

Sunghoon looks at you with an impressed smirk, “You’re an expert at being nosy then, huh?.”

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of satisfaction in sharing this part of yourself. “Yeah, it’s a bit like that. It’s also nice to share it with someone who’s genuinely interested. Makes it even more enjoyable

Sunghoon’s eyes wander around the room again, clearly more engaged in the activity now. “So, do you usually come to the cafeteria to people-watch, or is this a special occasion?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Oh, it’s a regular thing for me. The cafeteria is one of the best spots for it. Lots of different people and interactions to observe.”

You find yourself lingering on Sunghoon’s face for a moment longer than you intend. There’s something about the way he quietly observes the room, his dark eyes taking everything in with a calm, almost unreadable expression. He’s hard to read, but there’s a depth to him that intrigues you.

You quickly glance back down at your finished plate, hoping he didn’t notice you staring. But as the silence stretches, you feel his eyes on you. Sunghoon clears his throat, his voice a little hesitant. “So, uh… what do you see when you look at me? I mean, you’re good at this observing thing, right?”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat at his question. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you try to gather your thoughts, suddenly aware of how close you two are sitting. “Oh, um… well, I guess…”

You look up at him, meeting his gaze, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “Your eyes… they’re really… intense. But not in a scary way. More like… there’s a lot going on behind them, but you don’t really let it show. It’s like… you’re watching the world, but keeping your thoughts to yourself. It’s… I don’t know, they have some kind of mysterious pull to them.”

Sunghoon blinks, clearly caught off guard by your answer. His expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. “Mysterious, huh? I’ve never thought of myself that way.”

You fumble for words—that was fucking weird, Ren—you think, scrambling to fix your words. “I-I mean, not in a bad way! It’s just… you have this kind of… stoic presence, but your eyes say a lot more than you let on. It’s like there’s a whole other side to you that most people don’t see.”

Sunghoon looks down, a faint smile playing on his lips, his cheeks tinged with a slight flush.

You nod, feeling the awkwardness of your own words but also a strange sense of connection. “Sorry that wasn’t what you meant and I am… fucking weird now, huh?”

He looks back at you, his gaze softening. “No, no, no—“ He laughs gently and shakes his head, “It’s… actually kind of nice. I appreciate it, Ren.”

As you both settle in Sunghoon’s apartment, the storm still raging outside, Sunghoon suddenly looks at you with a mix of nervousness and determination. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you why I couldn’t say anything when we bumped into each other at the park. I was just… kind of enthralled by how pretty you were.”

He shakes his head, a slight flush still coloring his cheeks. “I know that sounds a bit stupid, but it’s the truth. I was too caught off guard to say anything, so I probably just looked broody.”

You feel your face heat up at his confession, but you can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. “Honestly, I just thought you were kind of an asshole. Like, you just bumped into me and then stared me down. I had no idea you were, you know… stunned or whatever.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and he looks immediately embarrassed, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off that way. I really wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I just… didn’t know how to react.”

You laugh again, but this time more warmly, seeing how flustered he is. “It’s okay, really. I guess we both misread the situation. I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

Sunghoon nods, still looking a bit embarrassed, but he manages a sheepish smile. “Yeah, me too. I guess I need to work on my reactions a bit. Sorry again for giving off the wrong vibe.”

You wave it off, feeling the tension ease as you smile at him. “No harm done. It’s kind of funny, actually, now that we’re talking about it.”

Sunghoon chuckles, the embarrassment starting to fade. “Yeah, I guess it is. I’m really glad we’re getting to know each other better now, though.”

“Well, now that we’ve both embarrassed ourselves—“ You laugh before a sigh escapes you and you lean back against the booth seat you were in.

Callie was right—which was something you didn’t like to admit very often—but maybe Sunghoon was something you could chase after.

— — —

Snow,

Your last letter caught me off guard—in a good way. It’s not every day someone asks about my life outside of school or my perspective on the world as an artist. It made me realize how rare it is to have someone actually care about those things. So, thank you for that.

Where do I start? Outside of school, I guess I’m pretty much the same person. Art isn’t just something I study—it’s how I see the world. I know that might sound cliché, but it’s true. When I walk through campus, or sit in a coffee shop, or even just people-watch from a bench, I’m always noticing the little details that others might overlook. The way the light hits someone’s hair, the shadows that play on the ground, the fleeting expressions on people’s faces as they pass by. It’s like everything is a potential piece of art, even the most mundane moments. I think that’s why I love being an artist so much. It’s like I have this secret lens that lets me see the beauty in everything, even when the world feels overwhelming.

But that’s not to say it’s always easy. There are days when I feel like I’m carrying the weight of everything I see. It’s like I’m constantly trying to capture moments, to hold onto them before they slip away, but sometimes it’s exhausting. There’s so much emotion in the world, and it can be overwhelming to try and process it all. I guess that’s why I retreat into my art. It’s my way of making sense of everything, of turning the chaos into something tangible.

Outside of that, I’m just a normal college student, trying to navigate life and figure out who I am. I have my close friends, like Callie, who keep me grounded. She’s the type of person who can make me laugh even when I’m stressed out of my mind, which is more often than I’d like to admit. We balance each other out, I think. She’s practical and a bit of a realist, while I’m the one with my head in the clouds, always dreaming and creating. It’s a good dynamic, and I’m grateful to have her in my life.

But enough about me—how about you? You’ve been so thoughtful in your letters, but I feel like I don’t know much about you yet. What do you see when you look at the world? What’s your perspective on life? I’d love to hear more about what makes you, well… you.

Talk to you later—Sunny

— — —

Your days have settled into a comfortable rhythm, a mix of classes, painting, and the occasional coffee break with Callie. Mornings start with you groggily pulling yourself out of bed, the faint light of dawn filtering through your curtains as you get ready for another day of classes. You make sure to grab breakfast, a habit Callie has drilled into you after too many mornings of skipped meals. Then it's off to campus, where you navigate the familiar paths with a sense of routine, waving to acquaintances and exchanging quick hellos with classmates.

Your classes keep you busy—lectures, assignments, and the constant pressure of upcoming exams. But amidst the academic grind, there's a part of your day you look forward to the most: those moments you spend in the library. It started with that first meeting, an accidental collision of schedules and a shared space, but now it’s become something more intentional.

You’ve found yourself meeting Sunghoon regularly in the library, often in that same reserved room where you first actually talked. It’s a quiet, tucked-away corner of campus where you both can focus on your work but also where conversation flows easily between the two of you. At first, it was just studying side by side, exchanging the occasional word or glance, but soon you started talking more—about classes, about life, about the things that matter to you both.

There’s a comfort in his presence, a steadiness that you hadn’t expected from someone who seemed so closed off at first. He listens when you speak, really listens, and when he shares something about himself, it feels like he’s letting you into a part of his world that few others see. The more time you spend together, the more you realize how much you enjoy his company, how much you’ve come to look forward to these meetings.

He’s still a man of few words, but when he does speak, there’s a thoughtfulness to it that you’ve come to appreciate. Sometimes, you catch yourself smiling at something he says, or at the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. And sometimes, when he’s focused on his work, you let yourself wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. It’s a strange kind of closeness that’s developed between you two, one that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And then there are the little things—the way he’ll bring you a coffee if he knows you’ve had a rough day, or the way you’ve started sharing music recommendations, discovering you have more in common than you initially thought. There’s a warmth to your interactions now, a quiet understanding that seems to have grown naturally out of these moments spent together.

You can’t quite put your finger on when it happened, but somewhere along the way, Sunghoon became more than just someone you ran into on campus. He became someone you genuinely care about, someone whose presence you crave more often when you had to wait for another letter. And as you sit across from him in that familiar library room, you find yourself wondering what this connection means, where it might lead, and how much closer the two of you might become.

— — —

Sunny,

I have to admit, after reading your last letter, I found myself looking at the world a little differently. It’s like your words opened up something in me, made me see the beauty in the details that I usually overlook. I guess I never realized how much there is to notice when you really pay attention.

Like yesterday, I was walking through campus, and I saw the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting these long, golden shadows on the ground. The leaves were swaying just enough to make the light dance. It reminded me of the sunny day you talked about in your first letter and then I thought, ‘Sunny would probably paint this,’ Or the way the raindrops gather on the window after a storm, reflecting the outside world in those tiny little beads of water. It’s like the whole world is contained in those drops, you know? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed those things before, not really. But now, it’s all I can see.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, your perspective has kind of... consumed my thoughts. I find myself thinking about what you’d make of the things I see every day—how you’d capture the way a moment feels, or how you’d turn something simple into something profound. It’s like you’ve given me a new lens to look through, and I’m really grateful for that.

Honestly, I’m finding it hard not to think about you every day now. It’s strange, isn’t it? We’ve never even met, but I feel like you’re everywhere. Like, every time I notice something beautiful, you’re the first person I want to tell about it. I’m not sure what that means, but I thought you should know.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well. I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been painting lately—if you’re comfortable sharing, that is. And if there’s anything else on your mind, I’m all ears.

Talk to you later—Snow

— — —

Over the past few weeks, Sunghoon had found himself thinking about Ren more and more. It wasn’t just the time they spent together in the library that lingered in his mind, but the little details of her that had started to etch themselves into his memory. The way her eyes would light up when she talked about something she was passionate about, or how her lips would curl into a soft, almost shy smile whenever he complimented her. He had memorized the way she absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while she studied, or how her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she worked on her assignments. And then there was her laugh—so genuine and infectious that it never failed to make him smile, even on his worst days.

Sunghoon didn’t know when it happened, but Ren had become someone he looked forward to seeing, someone who made him feel understood in a way that was rare for him. There was an ease to their connection that he hadn’t experienced before, a natural rhythm that made their time together feel effortless and comforting. She was someone who could bring out a side of him that he usually kept hidden, and he found himself wanting to share more and more of himself with her.

But then there was Sunny.

Sunny, the anonymous pen pal who had captured his thoughts and inspired his imagination in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Their letters had started off as just another assignment, something he hadn’t expected to matter. But now, every letter from Sunny was something he eagerly awaited. Her words painted vivid pictures in his mind, and he found himself longing to know more about the person behind them. What did she look like when she painted? What emotions played across her face as she captured the world on her canvas? What other poetic visions would she impart next?

The more he read her letters, the more he felt like he was getting a glimpse into her soul, and it was intoxicating. He wanted to know everything about her—her thoughts, her dreams, the way she saw the world. He had even begun to wonder if she might be someone he already knew, someone who had been right in front of him all along. But then, there was Ren, and that complicated things. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being unfair to both of them—this girl he was growing closer to in person, and this mystery pen pal who occupied his thoughts.

Sunghoon found himself caught between two worlds: the real, tangible connection he had with Ren, and the deep, almost ethereal bond he felt with Sunny. And with each passing day, the desire to bridge that gap, to know who Sunny really was, grew stronger. He wanted to understand the person behind the letters, to see if the connection he felt with her words could translate into something real. But as much as he longed to uncover Sunny’s identity, he also feared what that might mean—for him, for Ren, and for whatever delicate balance he had somehow found between the two.

— — —

Snow,

Your last letter made me smile. It’s funny how we’ve never met, yet I feel like you somehow understand how I see the world. When you described the sunlight filtering through the trees and the raindrops on the window, it was like you were speaking my language. It’s incredible how something so simple can become so beautiful when you take the time to notice it, don’t you think?

I’ve been painting a lot lately. After reading your letter about the snowy night, I couldn’t get the image out of my head. There was something so vivid in the way you described it—the quiet, the stillness, the way the world seemed to pause under that blanket of snow. It was like I could feel the cold air on my skin and hear the crunch of the snow beneath my feet, even though I wasn’t there. So, I decided to paint it. I wanted to capture that moment, the way you saw it, and try to put that feeling on canvas.

It wasn’t easy. I think I’ve repainted the sky about a dozen times, trying to get the right shade of twilight, that moment just before the night fully takes over. I wanted the snow to look soft, almost like a memory, with just enough light to see your breath in the air. And the trees... I think they were the hardest part. I wanted them to look both strong and delicate, like they were standing guard over this perfect, fleeting moment in time. I don’t know if I got it exactly right, but I hope it comes close to what you saw that night.

It’s strange, but painting your snow night made me feel closer to you, like I was sharing in that moment with you even though we’re miles apart. It made me realize how much I look forward to your letters, how much they make me think and feel. I’ve found myself wondering what you’re doing at random times during the day, or how you’d describe the things I see. It’s like your words have found a way into my thoughts, and I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s kind of wonderful.

I’m curious, though—do you ever feel that way about my letters? I mean, do you find yourself thinking about what I’ve written or imagining what I might say next? I guess I’m just wondering if this connection is as real for you as it feels for me.

I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been seeing lately, what moments have caught your eye. Maybe they’ll inspire my next painting. And if there’s anything you’re curious about, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m more than happy to share my world with you, piece by piece.

Talk to you later—Sunny.

— — —

You and Sunghoon are sprawled out on the floor of his apartment, the room echoing with your laughter and playful banter. You’re in the middle of a mock wrestling match, both of you grinning like fools as you try to outmaneuver each other. Sunghoon manages to pin you down for a moment, and you let out a loud, exaggerated laugh of defeat.

As the laughter dies down, you both lie there catching your breath, the playful energy giving way to a more relaxed atmosphere. You looked up at him as he held your arms down, his roommate Jake giving the dramatic announcement of Sunghoon’s pin as if it was WWE. Your chest rose and fell with a stagnant smile on your faces, Sunghoon still chuckling softly as he looked down at you. For a brief moment, the world seems to slow down, and you find yourself watching him with a sense of wonder.

His dark hair is a bit tousled from all the antics, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead that makes him look somehow more... real. The way the light from the lamp casts a soft glow on his face, and the way his lips curve into a relaxed smile—it’s all strikingly attractive. You hadn’t really noticed before, but now, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time, in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

You shift your gaze slightly, trying to process what you’re feeling. This isn’t just about appreciating his looks; it’s something deeper, a fluttering sensation in your chest that you can’t quite ignore. You think about the way he listens to you, the way he makes you laugh, and how easy it feels to be around him. There’s a warmth and familiarity that you didn’t expect, but that you’ve come to cherish.

And then, like an unwelcome intrusion, your thoughts drift to Snow. The mysterious pen pal who had captured your imagination with his poetic letters. You remember his descriptions of snowy nights and the way he made you see the world through his eyes. It’s been a constant presence in your mind, a subtle, persistent reminder of another connection that feels just as intense, albeit in a different way.

The contrast between the two is jarring. Sunghoon’s presence is immediate and real, filled with tangible moments and shared laughter. Snow’s presence is ethereal and distant, yet equally compelling, with each letter adding another layer to the intrigue. The two are starting to feel like they’re vying for space in your thoughts and emotions.

You find yourself torn, caught between the easy, tangible connection you’re building with Sunghoon and the poetic, almost dreamlike allure of Snow. It’s confusing, trying to reconcile these two parts of your life and figure out what you truly want. As you look back at Sunghoon, you realize how much you enjoy his company, how much you’re drawn to him, yet Snow’s influence remains a significant part of your emotional landscape.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to clear the fog of conflicting feelings from your mind. Sunghoon lifts a brow and catches your gaze, giving you a curious look.

“You alright, Ren?” he asks, his voice warm and genuine.

You offer him a small, distracted smile, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions inside. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

Sunghoon nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “Well, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

You nod, appreciating the offer. “Thanks, Hoon… I appreciate it.”

As the evening continues, you try to focus on the present, enjoying the time with Sunghoon while grappling with the complexities of your feelings for both him and Snow. It’s a balancing act you’re not entirely sure how to manage, but for now, you’re determined to savor the moments you have with Sunghoon and let the rest sort itself out in time.

— — —

Sunny,

Your letter brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. I was genuinely touched to hear that my description of the snowy night inspired your painting. It’s incredible to think that my words could be transformed into something so beautiful and tangible. I can almost see the scene through your eyes, and it makes me feel as though I’ve been there with you, experiencing it all over again. I hope to see it one day.

I’ve found myself constantly thinking about you and your letters. It’s a strange but wonderful feeling, knowing that someone out there is visualizing the world through such a creative and thoughtful lens. It’s like your perspective has woven itself into my daily thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder about the details of your life, the moments that inspire you to create. Your words have become a significant part of my routine, and I often catch myself daydreaming about what you might describe next.

There’s a warmth in knowing that our correspondence has become such a meaningful part of our lives. I’m always eager to read what you’ve written, to find out what new insights or observations you’ll share. It’s almost as if your letters have a way of drawing me in, making me feel connected to you in a way that’s both surprising and comforting.

I have to admit, there’s something more profound than just admiration growing within me. I’ve started to realize how deeply I’m falling for your words, for the way you express yourself so beautifully and thoughtfully. It’s as though each letter reveals another layer of who you are, and I’m captivated by the depth and sincerity of your reflections.

I’m curious to know more about you—your inspirations, your dreams, and the things that move you. If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear about what drives you to paint, or about the moments that make you pause and reflect. Your letters have become a source of light in my life, and I fall harder with every word you share.

Talk to you later—Snow

— — —

You’re pacing back and forth in the living room, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You’ve been wrestling with your feelings for both Sunghoon and Snow, and it’s starting to drive you a bit mad. You finally collapse onto the couch next to Callie, who is lounging with a stack of notes from Snow spread out in front of her.

"Callie, I need help," you say, your voice tinged with frustration. You’re sprawled out on the couch in your apartment, the remnants of Snow’s letters scattered around you like a chaotic love confetti. Callie is sitting next to you, munching on a snack bowl of pretzels and clearly enjoying the show as you have a mini-meltdown over your feelings for both Snow and Sunghoon.

“Snow’s words are like this beautiful, poetic storm that’s taking over my mind, and then there’s Sunghoon, who’s right here, making me feel seen and loved in a completely different way. How am I supposed to choose between these two worlds?” You bury your face in you’re hands and groan.

Callie raises an eyebrow and picks up one of Snow’s letters, glancing at it with a smirk. “Okay, let’s break this down. So, Snow is basically a walking, talking poem who understands your soul from a distance, and Sunghoon is a real-life guy who makes you laugh and look at you like you’re the only person in the room. Got it.”

“Exactly!” you say, waving your hands around dramatically. “Snow’s letters are this perfect mix of art and mystery. I mean, he’s on campus somewhere, and I don’t even know what he looks like! And then Sunghoon... he’s here, being all cute and attentive, and it’s like I’m falling for him just as much. It’s a mess!”

Callie chuckles and picks up another letter, reading it with exaggerated enthusiasm. “‘Your letters have become a source of light in my life, and I fall harder with every word you share.’ Ugh, Snow, you charmer. And here’s Sunghoon, who knows the way you take your coffee and gives you his coat when you’re cold like a rom-com.”

You groan and flop back against the couch cushions. “I know, right? It’s just that Snow’s letters make me feel like I’m part of this beautiful, poetic world, while Sunghoon’s presence makes everything feel so real and tangible. How do I even begin to balance that?”

Callie puts down the letter and gives you a sympathetic look. “Listen, you don’t have to choose right this second. Snow’s words are wonderful, but they’re just a glimpse into a world that’s still shrouded in mystery. Sunghoon is right here, making you laugh and enjoy life. Maybe the real answer is that you need both worlds for now.”

You sit up, considering her words. “That’s... not the worst idea. But it feels so complicated.”

Callie leans back with a grin. “Complicated is just a fancy word for ‘interesting.’ If you’re enjoying both, then why stress? Snow’s poetry isn’t going anywhere, and Sunghoon’s not going to vanish. Take your time to figure it out.”

— — —

Dear Snow,

I was so touched by your last letter, and I felt compelled to write back and share something with you. I’ve been thinking a lot about how you expressed your feelings, and I realized something incredibly beautiful. Even though you’ve never seen any of my paintings, you seem to understand them so well, as if you’ve seen them in your own way. It’s like you’ve been looking at the same world through my eyes.

Your words have a way of making me feel like you truly see me, and it’s more than just knowing my thoughts or my feelings—it’s as if you’ve grasped the essence of what I try to capture on canvas. When I painted my vision of your snowy night, it wasn’t just about recreating the scene you described. It was about expressing how your words made me feel, how they painted a picture in my mind that felt so vivid and real.

Falling for you, Snow, has been like discovering a new color in my palette—one that resonates deeply with my own heart. The way you describe things, the way you make me think about the world in new ways, it’s all become a part of me. You’ve made me realize that sometimes the connection we build through words can be even more profound than anything we could see or touch.

I can’t wait to continue exploring this journey with you, sharing more of our worlds through our letters, and discovering where this connection takes us. You’ve made me feel seen and understood in a way I didn’t think was possible. Thank you for being such an important part of my life, even from afar.

Talk to you later— Love, Sunny

— — —

Sunghoon burst through the door of his apartment, his face flushed with excitement. He had just received Sunny’s latest letter, and the warmth of her words had him practically skipping with joy. His thoughts were a whirlwind of how perfectly their feelings seemed to align, and he was eager to share his enthusiasm with Jake.

As he walked into his room, he noticed something lying on his bed. It was the jacket Ren had borrowed from him. Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered that Ren had returned it today and briefly wondered if there was anything inside the pockets.

He reached into one of the coat pockets and felt a small, folded piece of paper. Curiosity piqued, he pulled it out and unfolded it, revealing a neatly written note in neat… purple… ink.

— — —

Thank you for the jacket.

—Ren

— — —

ending note —

hehehe!! promised part three!! I’m really enjoying this prompt so I’m literally pumping these out as fast as I can bc even I’m excited for what happens next.

I love you and thank you for reading my little corner of tumblr<3

#college au #college au sunghoon #enha #enha fic #enha sunghoon #enha sunghoon fic #enhypen #enhypen college au #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen park sunghoon #enha park sunghoon #enha park sunghoon fic #enhypen park sunghoon fic

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seokgyuu · 10 months

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MENU - TODAY'S SPECIAL

Lee Heeseung...................................................................…$22 A Korean classic, created in 2001, Lee Heeseung is not just a sight to behold but also a delicious and varied main dish best served with a Cabernet Sauvignon.

currently in the works: meant just for you. ✧ heeseung, jay, sunghoon and you have been friends forever. surviving middle and high school is one thing - first kisses and first loves are easy to overcome. but when college comes around you have to make up your mind about whether one of them might be the one for you. or perhaps... they all are? ✧ heeseung/jay/sunghoon x !female reader / friends to lovers, college!au with middle & high school scenes, angst, smut. (18+)

more soon.

Park Jongseong.............................................................$21 An American born, but Korean grown meal, Park Jongseong comes with a variety of flavours and is best served ice cold or burning hot. Chef's wine recommendation: Merlot.

currently in the works: meant just for you. (tba) ✧ heeseung, jay, sunghoon and you have been friends forever. surviving middle and high school is one thing - first kisses and first loves are easy to overcome. but when college comes around you have to make up your mind about whether one of them might be the one for you. or perhaps... they all are? ✧ heeseung/jay/sunghoon x fem!reader / friends to lovers, college!au with middle & high school scenes, angst, smut. (18+)

never have i ever.... hooked up with a freshman (tba) ✧ being a sophmore you don't really hang out with freshmen anymore (except your darling little brother jungwon) but when a misunderstanding at the first frat party of the year brings one park jay into your life you find yourself wondering if perhaps you should overthink that earlier statement. ✧ jay x fem!reader / strangers to friend(ish) to lovers, reader is older than jay, fluff, smut. (18+)

a fatal love song (tba) ✧ going to a class reunion was one thing - going there not knowing your ex boyfriend would show up a whole different one. jay is more handsome than ever and if it wasn't for your absolute lack of self-respect maybe you wouldn't have lied about dating lee heeseung. ✧ jay x fem!reader / exes to lovers, fake dating (heeseung x fem!reader), fluff

more soon.

Sim Jaeyun.......................................................................... $21 Australian based Sim Jaeyun serves you exquisite and extravagant taste with a pinch of spice. Mostly cooked in Korea, it reaches it full potential when served with a cold Korean beer and a shot of soju.

Park Sunghoon..................................................................…$21 First served in 2002, Park Sunghoon used to be exclusively served frozen, but recently we have begun to serve it hot. A sweet dessert that is going to cause an explosion on your tastebuds.

drawn to you ✧ There is nothing worse than wanting what isn't yours. Sunghoon is your roommates boyfriend. He is also the one thing occupying your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. And never would you have guessed that the feeling is mutual. ✧ sunghoon x fem!reader / cheating as main theme, smut. (18+)

currently in the works: meant just for you. ✧ heeseung, jay, sunghoon and you have been friends forever. surviving middle and high school is one thing - first kisses and first loves are easy to overcome. but when college comes around you have to make up your mind about whether one of them might be the one for you. or perhaps... they all are? ✧ heeseung/jay/sunghoon x fem! reader / friends to lovers, college!au with middle & high school scenes, angst, smut. (18+)

MENU - WEEKLY SPECIALS

To Do: find a boyfriend (on going) UNDECIDED / MULTIPLE LOVE INTERESTS (HYUNG LINE)

GENRE: sm!au, slice of life, comedy, romance, angst, friends to lovers, loser!hyung line basically SYNOPSIS: being single for three and a half years all of your friends are tired of your constant whining. while your girlfriends want you to just get laid, your boy-friends, on the other hand, just think you should pick one of them to date. ignoring them all, you instead decide to try out a dating app to find your match.

#enhypen #masterlist

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counterattacker · 1 year

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Cover for 504 Farm Arrays Lane, a maybe-gonna-be-real comic based on my friend and I's Jolly Co-Op shenanigans! This is a heavily lore noncompliant slice of life/comedy AU. There's a little bit of character info under the cut! (The background patterns and Batfly are borrowed in-game graffiti)

504 Farm Arrays Lane is an apartment building housing slugcats, scavengers, and a single random entirely nonsapient vulture named Victor. Among its residents are the idiots extraordinaire and the stars of this AU: Bogos & Binted!

The Characters

Bogos (Lavender Spearmaster)- A jack of all trades and master of none, Bogos is a complete and utter incomptent idiot who deeply believes himself to not be one. He often attempts new hobbies and tries to create various inventions, which invariably ends in injuries due to critical oversights or overconfidence.

Binted (Green Survivor)- Binted is an ill-tempered Slugcat who was raised by garbage worms and carries a brick with him wherever he goes. He, unlike his roommate Bogos, has fully accepted that he's not terribly smart, and often sabotages Bogos's projects. This, however, usually leads to disaster for Binted more than anything.

Finger (Dark green Slugpup)- Finger is... something. They went to the Rubicon and back again, and are now hunting down Binted to take their revenge for an incident in which he backflipped Finger over the edge of a cliff on purpose. However, they're a 3 month-old slugpup, so there's really not much they can do.

Carrot (Orange Artificer)- Carrot lives in the apartment above Bogos & Binted's with her wife (also an artificer) and three slugpups (named Tax Benefit 1, Oops Forgot To Take Birth Control and Tax Benefit 4). She spends most of her time harassing happy couples and other peoples' slugpups with high explosives.

Spot (Caramel Lizard)- Spot is a stray Lizard who showed up at 504 Farm Arrays Lane. He usually loafs around on the lawn.

#rain world #bogos & binted tag #504 farm arrays lane #spearmaster #artificer #survivor rain world #caramel lizard #slugpup #my art

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kelofmindelan · 10 months

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tagged by @full---ofstarlight and @maryxoliver for this “people you’d like to know better” tag game! ty for the tag :3c

Three Ships:

Jason Grace and Nico di Angelo from the Heroes of Olympus: This is one of those ships that just itches the right part of my brain. Jason Grace is one of my favorite characters ever, and his quest to try and balance his need to be a leader and a protector with his desire to be allowed to be an individual is so interesting to contrast with Nico who by this point is so firmly himself. But Nico has been hurt a lot and assumes he will never be trusted, even as Jason is trying to insist that he is someone who matters to their group and is trusted. So Nico decides to test him - in a dangerous moment, holding something the rest of the group thinks is poison, Nico holds the glass to Jason and says 'How much do you trust me?" And Jason looks him dead in the eye and drinks it no hesitation. Because his own life matters less than showing Nico is worthy of trust. They are sun and shadow, sky and earth, storm and death, they are the golden boy and the outcast. It's a delicious ship and it feeds me.

Fanfic rec: Dungeons and Jason by betsib

Taran and Eilonwy of Llyr from The Chronicles of Prydain: They are everything to me. They are the blueprint. You have friends to lovers, you have battle couple, you have princess and the farm boy, you have two people who genuinely want to find ways to improve themselves in order to be more worthy of the other person while also finding ways to grow together. They argue constantly, but there is so much love under it that is there from the very beginning because both of them are trying to navigate having to learn how to communicate with someone else. They are my ship that I have created a thousand aus for and will test any new au I discover for how well I can fit them into it because if they don't fit I probably don't like it that much.

Fanfic rec: I wrote two oneshots but also anything by Saeriellyn is incredible

Pacifica Northwest and Dipper Pines from Gravity Falls: My friends tease me about loving a sad rich girl and they aren't wrong, so I felt kind of targeted by Pacifica's arc in season 2 of Gravity Falls because it made her so exactly my type. Particularly in the way we start to see her grow out of it. She and Dipper have each seen each other at their worst which means they don't have to worry about the shields anymore and can push each other into growing and unpacking their own traumas and bad habits. But also we start to get all these hints that she can actually relate to him at his nerdiest once she has permission to do so, and I love that he can find someone who can operate at his level while she finds someone who gives her permission to be so much less than perfect and thus actually real.

Fanfic rec: The Worst Neighbor Ever by Proseandsongs

Last Film:

The Hobbit (1977): I found this streaming and was absoltuely delighted to watch it this morning. I have so many fond memories of this movie and it did not disappoint. The animation is wild, Bilbo spends the whole movie throwing massive shade, Gollum looks like an absolute nightmare, and it's a musical the way it should be.

Currently Watching:

My roommate and I are about to finish up Mentopolis on Dimension 20 and I'm losing my mind a little bit over how this season is going. I can't wait to see how it resolves!

My writing shows at the moment are The Great British Bake Off Holiday Specials, The Christmas Cookie Challenge, and my annual rewatch of Midsomer Murders.

Currently Reading:

Nothing really because most of my books are still in boxes and I haven't had the spoons to start unpacking them while I still have that hole in my wall. I'm dipping in and out of this Rick Riordan Presents collection called The Cursed Carnival, but it's my current work book.

Currently Consuming:

I have a bunch of leftover pumpkin pie and I just had a huge slice of that along with some tea called 'Cold Comfort'.

Currently Craving:

A yule log. One of those fancy chocolate swirled sponges with cream in the middle and fancy decorations that is actually made well and that I don't have to attempt to bake myself.

Or a whole bunch of different fancy eclairs. I want to try all the eclairs.

(Yes. I am watching baking shows I want all the things.)

tagging: @aidanchaser @stolenmelody @starrattlerofprydain @bookwyrm-of-the-emerald-star @givemonetatry

#tagged things #actually me

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oddinary4bts · 2 years

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Masterlist

Hi, I’m going to start a masterlist so you can find my fics easily!

Have fun getting lost in everything on here!

BTS ot7:

Life Goes On series:

Here is a collection of fanfics that all take place in the same universe, with all the members falling in love one after the other.

☆summary: Being the biggest boy band in the world can make it hard to find love. But in time, everyone finds the one that they were meant to find, the person that was forever theirs to begin with. Even the Bangtan boys aren’t an exception to that most simple rule of the universe, as they fall in love in the most unexpected places

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: snippets of life, idol!au

☆ series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook:

Sinful Lust

☆summary: in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: 3some!au, slife of life!au, smut, angst

➳ series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Jeon Jungkook

The Forgotten Spaces

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

➳ series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

When the End Comes (The Forgotten Spaces sequel)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, every chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

➳ series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

November Sun

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

➳Complete fic here! please read the warnings before reading this fic.

To Give A Helping Hand

☆summary: you're a fan, untouchable, yet Jungkook finds he's far too attracted to you.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this is pure smut)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

➳Part one here! ➳Part two here!

➳Part three here!

Chasing Cars

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

➳series masterpost

Coffee Stain

☆summary: you grief, and it's the expression of your everlasting love for Jungkook.

☆rating: 18+ (it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief!au, angst

☆warnings: this is a grief!au so it's rough. jungkook died and reader tries to grieve him. lucid dream where she sees him and talks to him again, curses, a lot of crying

➳complete fic

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

1k followers celebration drabbles

Jeon Jungkook:

☆What’s wrong?

☆The Bane of Your Existence

☆The Coincidence of Fate

☆Let Me Kiss Your Mom

☆Happy Birthday

Min Yoongi:

☆The Worst Coworker You’ve Ever Had

Jeong Hoseok:

☆Two Hundred and Nineteen Days

Kim Namjoon:

☆Can I Ask you a Question?

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Stray Kids

Hwang Hyunjin

Always Been You

☆summary: when two estranged best friends meet again at their friends' wedding, an old spark reignites. You swear to yourself that you won't fall for Hyunjin again, until alcohol blurs the line between you two. Is it your fault if you find yourself drowning in the familiarity that is him?

☆genre: best friends to strangers to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst

☆warnings: mention of cheating, Hyunjin be a ghost, alcohol consumption

➳ complete fic

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ateez

Choi San

Love is a Laserquest

☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?

☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope

☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving), face riding

➳ Complete fic

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lesbiangallagher · 3 years

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*holy fuck, it’s GALLAVICH time* 💖🧑🏻‍🦰🧑🏻💖 - if you had an infinite amount of inspiration and time, what would be the Gallavich fic or art you would create? 💖 (& feel free to send this to anyone you like!)

hell yeah i have three ideas swimming in my head lately 🥰

1) i really want to write more hornygaythug slice of life scenes, of the spicy and non-spicy kinds. i want to write more about ian exploring the bdsm life and discovering shit about himself, like in relation to sex hence the “leveling up” thing, i feel like he would make it into a fun little journey as he builds up his confidence with having the control in the bedroom, and mickey…encouraging and being really turned on by ian’s ministrations really lights a fire in ian. like today they explore breathplay, and tomorrow? the world. type beat. like my headcanon is that mickey is his first relationship where the power balance is equal for the first time ever, and ian has a pretty good hold of who he is as a person by the time he meets mickey…yeah i just wanna explore ian’s pov…maybe that’ll be my next task 👀 but yeah i’d like to continue filling in the gaps from the actual blogs with exposition 😈

2. lesbian gallavich catholic school au. listen this one is ambitious BUT a) i was catholic growing up b) i am a lesbian…so who else is better equipped to write this fic? the premise is ian is a good catholic girl, does community service, lives a very humble life, is actually catholic (with the last name gallagher, come on now)…and she’s very canon ian but instead of westpoint…it’s servitude for the Lord our savior…she’s a little repressed and is discovering her sexuality at 18, but keeping it under wraps. she knows she’s into girls but she’s like “as long as i don’t act on it, i’ll be fine” she’s closeted and she figures she will just never date or be in a relationship and that’s ok with her. her family is catholic too but to a lesser degree because ian is the only one who went to the school voluntarily. she likes the routine but feels lonely. she’s very involved with the school to fill a void that god is not filling somehow…

then: enter mickey, a mysterious but very weird girl with a dump truck under her school uniform. mickey’s had a rough life and moved from school to school due to behavioral issues so she’s constantly getting expelled, but she’d never hurt anyone, just acts out for attention, damages school property, and fails every class. she eventually gets expelled from all schools in the area except for one, a catholic boarding school. her brother gets her into the school, pays for tuition and everything just so she won’t get hurt by their dad anymore. she initially thinks the school is stupid but when she moves in, she realizes it’s way nicer than her actual home and her roommate is a godly little freak but her long curly red hair hits the middle of her back nicely, and if mickey squints a little from where she is sitting on her bed, she can see her roommate’s bra straps through the thin white gym shirt and—oh god. leave it to mickey to get a crush on her uptight catholic roommate.

👀👀👀👀

3) ok this is another ambitious one but we are gearing up to write it. trans!mickey southern au. takes place in georgia, modern times.

mckayla and ian were friends as kids. well more like, mandy and ian were friends and mckayla tagged along sometimes. ian was always intrigued by her and always asked her silly little questions as kids do when they are interested in someone…they all grow up together, dancing around, sometimes flirting, mostly not, and just having innocent kid adventures around the town. the milkovich twins were infamous for getting in trouble, but mckayla always took the fall and faced the consequences for them both. she was definitely the black sheep of the family.

one day at the age of 16, mckayla disappears. mandy has no idea where her twin went, this causes her to really lose her way, her family won’t share anything, just that her sister is in a “place that will help her get on the right track again.” mandy believes she ran away and will come back when she’s ready but she is still angry because “how could she leave me here alone??” ian is upset about it too, but life moves on and he vows to work on having a better life, motivating mandy to join him as they get serious about college together, they’ll be the first kids in their families to go to college.

ian is 23 when he moves back to the town. he graduated from college in atlanta, where he has been living since he turned 18. he got a full-time job after graduation that burned him out and his mental health was suffering. his mentality throughout school was “i’ll graduate and get the best highest paying job and live a happy life” …well the first two wishes happened but ian was miserable. he moves back to the town to spend time with family and is starting from scratch again. he has major imposter syndrome, thinks he’s a failure, and is just jaded all around. he gets a job as a counselor at his old high school.

enter mickey, a strange dude that works as a janitor at the school. he has a permanent smile on his face and loves his job more than anything. ian thinks he’s weird, but familiar.

#long post #whoops this got hella long and it’s not letting me do a read more

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pain-somnia · 4 years

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Title: Take Me Now, I’m In Too Far Rating: M (for sexual content) Disclaimer Playlist Art Credit: @inknigella (used with permission) Day’s Notes: I have recently updated this fic on Patreon. It is one of three fics of mine exclusive to Patreon, but here’s a chance to read Part 1 of my “exes as roommates” AU. This fic is dear to me in almost the same way Kingdom For Two is. The fic started as a simple Roommates AU, but then was molded into something else when I decided to add the fact that they were exes. I wanted to write about two people that love each other a lot but growing up and becoming “real” adults made things difficulty. If you would like to give this fic a chance and enjoy Part 1, you can find Part 2 & Part 3 on Patreon. Here is a link to the tag for this fic. I have opened up the $1 tier permanently for access to exclusive fics and early access to publicly posted fics, but I have other tiers with different perks. One of the perks for certain tiers are PDFs that contain exclusive art that will only be found in full on my Patreon (or in some cases Cj’s Patreon). The above banner was created with a preview of one of the many works Ink has provided to help bring my work to life.

I hope you all enjoy the first part of this fic and consider becoming one of my patrons 😊

Part One

She was going to kill Karin. And her stupid boyfriend. She was going to kill Karin and her boyfriend and then take back the armchair she let them have as a moving-in-together gift.

Sakura wasn’t that surprised when Karin told her she was moving out. She had been spending so much time at Suigetsu’s apartment, it was as if she had already moved out months ago. It was only a matter of time before the two of them would officially move in together.

Karin had been considerate and had found her a new roommate before she gave her the news. And although Sakura wasn’t too keen on the idea of living with a stranger—a man at that—she was willing to put up with it for her friend’s happiness.

At least for a few months while she looked for a new place if possible.

Unfortunately for Sakura, she couldn’t set a day to actually meet her new roommate before he was set to move in. Their schedules conflicted most days so Karin went ahead and took care of all of the necessary paperwork and was present when he moved in. With how things had begun, Sakura assumed she wouldn’t meet her new roommate until her day off.

She hadn’t expected to run into him as she was leaving for work at the bakery at three in the morning and he was coming home smelling of booze.

She definitely didn’t expect to see her ex-boyfriend holding a key to her apartment.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sasuke muttered, running a hand through his messy, jet black hair.

“You’re my new roommate?” Sakura scoffed, wringing her hands in the scarf she was attempting to put on on her way out. “How did you not know that I was Karin’s roommate?”

Sasuke looked at her impassively for a moment, as if mulling over what he wanted to say before pushing past her and saying, “I’m going to bed.”

“What? We’re not even going to talk about this?”

“If we start now, you’re going to be late for work,” he called back to her without turning around. “Can’t have that can we?”

Sakura scoffed but couldn’t retort. He was right. If she missed her bus she was going to have to wait for the next one and it would cause her to be late.

She wanted nothing more than to bang on his bedroom door and demand that he come out and speak with her. How could he just go to sleep!?

“We’re talking when I get back!” She shouted, grabbing the front door. Sakura waited but there was no response. She growled in frustration and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

“Have you been taking your anger out on dough again?” Ino commented dryly between page flips of a cake catalogue, pointing out cute designs to the toddler sitting on her lap and cooing.

Sakura rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm and sighed. It was one in the afternoon and she had spent the day busy working on custom orders. At the moment she was sitting through a consultation with her childhood friend who needed to order a birthday cake for her son, Inojin. She had tried to throw herself into baking and packaging orders but now that there was a slow down where it was only her and two of the shop clerks, her mind was free to think about how her ex was now living with her.

“You know how Karin moved out and found me a roommate?”

“Uh-huh, it was kind of unexpected. Isn’t it a little early though? They’ve only been dating for━”

“Sasuke is the roommate she found me.”

“Holy━sorry, honey.” Ino interrupted herself and covered her son’s ears. “Holy shit!”

“I wanted to call her and chew her out but in her defense, she doesn’t know he’s my ex-boyfriend.” Sakura slumped in her seat, took a fork and dug into one of the cake slices she brought out for tasting. “When I did get a chance to talk to her earlier, she said that apparently Suigetsu is best buddies with him and Kiba. Kiba and Sasuke were rooming with their friend Shino but the lease was coming to an end and Shino was moving away for a teaching job and Kiba decided to move in with his fiancée. So━”

“So Sasuke needed a new place quick and conveniently Suigetsu knew a place close enough to his workplace and with someone that desperately needed a new roommate.”

Sakura tossed the fork over her shoulder in defeat and dropped her head into her hands. Ino reached over and patted her arm in a comforting manner.

“I give you guys two weeks.”

“Two weeks for what?” Sakura lifted her head up to narrow her eyes at Ino. “Before we kill each other?”

Ino covered Inojin’s ears one more time and said, “Two weeks before you’re fucking.”

“Ino!” Sakura sat up, looking affronted, hand clutching the front of her apron.

“You guys used to go at it like rabbits,” Ino gave her a sly smile, “and it’s not like you guys broke up because you grew to hate each other.”

“That was years ago, Ino.” Sakura rolled her eyes and pushed the cake slices closer to Inojin. He immediately sank his fingers into the cake and ate from his hands. “He’s probably moved on anyway.”

“It was the stupidest break up.”

“I know it was, but we were so busy and our schedules never aligned. It was frustrating.” Sakura sighed and stared off into space. “It’s been four years…”

Ino took out some wet wipes and cleaned Inojin’s chubby fingers. “So what are you going to do?”

Sakura shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Ino looked at her incredulously. “You’re just going to live with him and not do a thing about it.”

“I didn’t even notice he was there for three days already.” Sakura shrugged again. “And our schedules never sync up. I really don’t think it will be an issue.”

“Unless he brings someone home,” Ino said the words slowly so Sakura couldn’t miss what she was telling her.

“He’s not as insensitive as that.” Sakura crossed her arms in front of her chest. The action was to get as close to hugging herself without actually doing it.

The truth was that the Sasuke she knew wasn’t insensitive. But she didn’t know this Sasuke; a Sasuke that was twenty-five instead of the twenty year old she knew and loved.

The new apartment was a lot closer to the tattoo parlor he worked at than his old place. It was one of the things that sold him on it when Suigetsu mentioned that Karin was moving in with him and leaving her old roomie without. That and the washer and dryer included in the apartment which meant no more paying at a laundromat or to use the communal laundry center.

Sasuke wasn’t too keen on sharing a space with a woman he didn’t know but Karin insisted that his roommate was clean and quiet and that with her work schedule he wouldn’t be running into her except on Sundays when her bakery was closed.

Bakery.

That was the first sign that had him want to put the pen down and walk away. Because baking is what she wanted to do for a living. But what were the odds that Karin was talking about her? There were tons of bakeries in the city and Sakura didn’t own one the last time he checked.

But that was five years ago when she was nineteen and too young. She was still pretty young to be a business owner but with Sakura’s tenacity there was a highly likely chance that she would have her own shop. And wasn’t that one of the reasons she had been saving every penny she could when she started working?

Shaking his head of all of those thoughts, he had signed the documents that would transfer him as the new leasee replacing Karin.

It wasn’t until he was moving in that Sasuke found out who exactly Karin’s roommate had been.

Suigetsu and he were bringing in boxes while Karin gave him a tour of the apartment when he saw the photos on the wall. Anyone could dye their hair pink but what were the odds that another pink haired woman around Karin’s age would have gone to Catholic school for high school and wore the same uniform that Sakura used to prance around in.

“Sakura is pretty sentimental so she has photos all over the apartment,” he distantly heard Karin explain as he examined all of the photos that were lined up in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Come check out the bathroom. It’s pretty big ‘cause the washer and dryer are set up in there. There’s a door to block out that area from the toilet and shower cabin for some privacy. It’s frosted glass but you can’t really see what’s going on on the other side.”

Karin hadn’t been friends with Sakura when the two of them had been dating so he couldn’t fault her for not knowing but Suigetsu did know that Sakura was his ex.

An ex he was still kind of hung up on.

Which is why after work he headed to the bar with Kiba and Tamaki, Kiba’s fiancée. They were supposed to celebrate him finding a new place but after Kiba asked why Suigetsu wasn’t there, Sasuke explained that he was banned from their usual bar for a few weeks because he let him move in with his ex without warning him.

If he was lucky he would never have to run into Sakura while he was living there. Because wasn’t that the cause of their breakup before? With her busy culinary school schedule and apprenticeship and then his work at the parlor running into late at night, they barely saw each other.

So stumbling in slightly drunk and a little high at three in the morning, Sasuke didn’t expect to see her on the other side of the apartment door in the middle of bundling up for the November cold.

Sakura still looked like she did at nineteen but different at the same time. Her face had lost most of the roundness of youth, but her figure was no longer as slim. She was still on the thin side, but unlike Karin who was all sharp edges and harsh angles, Sakura had filled out either with age or from eating one too many of her own cupcakes.

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair before tucking the arm it was attached to behind his head. He was finding it difficult to stay asleep which was all he had planned on doing before work for the day. Sakura had said something about talking later and he had been dreading having to have the conversation. He vaguely recalled saying something snarky about her running late for work. No doubt she would be upset over that.

The conversation was going to happen. But considering he would be gone before she came home from work, who knew when it would actually take place.

If he was lucky, she would wait until they were home and not find him at work like she used to.

When Sasuke first met Sakura she was wearing all of the cliche warning signs.

He was busy sketching when she strolled into the shop. Sasuke was supposed to be manning the reception desk and was likely to get bitched at by his cousin’s best friend for not paying attention.

“Hey,” greeted a cheerful voice.

Looking up from his sketchbook, Sasuke blinked in confusion at what he was seeing. Before him stood two teenage girls wearing the dark green tartan patterned pleated skirt and white button down shirt of a school uniform. The blonde one had a sweater wrapped around her waist but the slightly shorter girl with rose gold hair had a cream colored school cardigan with the school crest emblazoned on the left side of her chest.

“Our Lady of Sorrows is seven blocks,” Sasuke pointed out the door, “that way.”

“We have an appointment.” The blonde girl blew a bubble with her gum and popped it. “The school day also ended like an hour ago, dude.”

Raising an eyebrow, he flipped through the appointment book and asked, “names?”

“Ino Yamanaka and Sakura Haruno,” the girl with the pink hair answered, pointing at the girl that matched the names she gave. “We have an appointment with my cousin Sasori.”

Looking down the schedule log there it was. The new piercer did have an appointment with an Ino and a Sakura.

“Aren’t piercings prohibited at catholic schools?” Sasuke asked, eyeing the uniforms.

“Yeah, but you can’t get caught if you get them where the nuns can’t see them.” The pink haired girl winked at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

“What kind of piercings are you getting then?” He asked, taking out the waiver forms.

“Belly button for Ino.” The blonde girl raised her hand and took her form and filled out the form.

He turned to Sakura and waited for her answer. Her lips turned upwards at the corners in a coy smile.

“Hips.”

Even now, if Sasuke closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory of Sakura swiveling her hips as he thrust up into her, he could see the jewelry twinkling at him as she dipped her hips.

A lot of years had gone by since that first encounter and Sasuke was no longer the shop slave he was during his apprenticeship and Sakura was no longer that rebellious catholic school girl.

It didn’t stop him from wondering if her dermals were still in place or if after all those years her skin rejected the piercings and they had to be removed.

“What’s up with you, kid?” He felt someone ruffle his hair and he swatted at the air. The only one that had the courage to do so was Konan, one of their piercers.

“Nothing,” he replied, sanitizing the tattoo bed before his next client showed up.

“His ex girlfriend found out he lives with her,” Kiba cackled from his work station. Sasuke took his discarded gloves and threw them across the room until they hit him with a smack. “Ow!”

“Why would that be a surprise?” Konan asked. Sasuke made himself busy taking needles to the autoclave to avoid responding.

“She works baker’s hours,” Sasuke heard Kiba responding for him. “They have opposing schedules so Sui’s girlfriend took care of everything.”

“Good luck with that.” Konan went to the reception counter to check the appointment book. She had already moved on from the conversation.

I’m going to need more than luck, Sasuke grumbled inwardly.

Sakura drummed her fingers against her mug, nails clinking against the ceramic. She knew Sasuke wouldn’t get home until late so she called the co-owner of her bakery and asked her to oversee the baking of the everyday goods the following morning.

While Sakura mostly ran the show in the kitchen—Hinata being too soft and gentle to command the staff—she was mostly the cake artist and worked on custom orders. It was a lot more relaxed than the job she had as a pastry chef for the high end hotel in the city, but it still demanded a lot of her time.

She could spend hours of her day just to work on a cake that would still take her three days to make all of the components for it.

It wasn’t until one in the morning that the front door creaked open, keys jingling as they were pulled out of the lock.

“You stayed up.” Sasuke toed his boots off and lined them up next to hers. The leather work boots were of a popular brand so they hadn’t alarmed Sakura despite them being part of Sasuke’s signature look.

Sakura stood up from his seat at the couch and wrapped her oversized cardigan tighter around her body. She hugged herself, feeling exposed in her pajamas. “I said we had to talk.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” Sasuke tossed his keys on the kitchen island. Sakura grabbed them and placed them on a wall hook next to her own set of keys. “I need a place to live, you need a roommate. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Sakura asked, voice soft and slow, urging him to re-examine their situation. When he continued to stare at her impassively, Sakura scoffed.

“I didn’t know you were Karin’s roommate until I was moving in.”

“I know.” Sakura ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. Sasuke wasn’t a liar. At least the Sasuke she knew wasn’t a liar. “I know.”

“So is this the end of the discussion?” Sasuke’s eyes drifted from her to the hallway behind her. It was late and all he wanted was to get to bed. “I don’t really see any problem with us living together. You didn’t even notice that I was here for three days.”

The problem is that I never got over you. “Alright, if there’s no problem then let’s go over the rules.”

“Rules?” Sasuke gave her a blank look.

“Yes, rules. Karin and I had them and now so will we.”

“Okay.” Sasuke crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the island. “What are your rules?”

“Rule number one: no fucking on the couch.”

Sasuke’s eyes went wide and he choked on an inhale. “That’s a rule you guys had or is that one you made for me?”

“That was an actual rule we had.” Sakura shivered in disgust. “Suigetsu has a very pale ass.”

“Yeah, everyone’s seen more of Sui than they’ve ever wanted to.”

“Rule number two: toilet seat needs to be put back down after use.”

“Okay, that’s definitely one you made up for me.” Sasuke stood you straighter and looked her up and down. “Do I get to make rules too?”

“I will consider them.”

“Alright.” Sasuke was silent for a moment as he pondered. “No obnoxious noises such as vacuuming when you know the other is sleeping.”

“That’s reasonable.” Sakura sat down on one of the bar stools at the island and took out her notepad. She took out a pen and wrote down a few lines. “I do my laundry twice a week━Wednesdays and Sundays, usually around noon. Having a schedule kind of helps out ‘cause the laundry room is in the bathroom.”

They went back and forth writing down rules and going over each other’s work schedule. Sakura tapped the pen on the table and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to step on any toes or be misunderstood but she needed to bring up an uncomfortable topic.

“No overnight guests.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow and in a rush to recover Sakura blurted out, “for either of us! At least not without a heads up. I don’t want to be walking around in my underwear and there’s a stranger in my home.”

“Why would you be walking around in your━?”

“I sleep like that sometimes!” Sakura snapped, cheeks heating up. “I wake up to use the bathroom or get water and I’m too drowsy to consider pants.”

“Why do you sleep in your underwear if you get cold easily?” Sasuke’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I come home too tired to change so I just sleep in my underwear.” Sakura stomped her foot. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t judge me!”

“Just remember that I live here now and will see your ass if you decide that pants are too much,” Sasuke yawned, “effort. I’m going to bed now.”

Sakura watched him head to his room with a frown on her face. It wasn’t until she heard the lock on his door click that she let out an exhausted sigh.

Does he have to look cute when he’s sleepy?

“Is this too much for a three year old’s birthday?” Sakura sat back and looked thoughtfully at her sketch with her chin resting on her fist.

Hinata shrugged as she continued to pipe buttercream flowers. “I mean it’s more for Ino, isn't it?”

“God,” Sakura rolled her eyes, “it really is. I’m sure Inojin would be happy with a dinosaur on a cake instead of a dinosaur made out of cake.”

Hinata giggled softly as she continued to make a bouquet out of cupcakes. She was working on cupcakes for a bridal shower. Sakura had helped her with the structure to make it appear that it was suspended in the air and now all she had to do was decorate it.

When Sakura had met Hinata, the young woman wasn’t the best baker. It was an issue of confidence and being unsure if it was the best decision she had made. Upon discovering that Hinata had a few years to become a successful baker or get married to a man her father chose, Sakura took her under her wing and when they were ready they used Hinata’s trust fund to secure a location.

At that point Sakura already had a reputation for her cake sculptures so they lucked out.

Just because Sakura couldn’t be with the person she loved, it didn’t mean she was going to watch someone give up on their dream and marry someone they were forced to.

“So how has Tinder been working out for you?” Sakura drawled as she took out the ingredients she was going to need.

“I prefer Bumble, actually,” Hinata mumbled, face flushing pink. “You know it’s weird describing myself as pleasantly plump. Usually I would just say fat or chubby.”

“But you are pleasantly plump,” Sakura teased her. “And good call on Bumble. Message any guys?”

“I might have,” Hinata muttered under her breath, face turning a dark shade of red.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

“We only met for coffee!” Hinata insisted over Sakura’s laughter. Sakura waved her hand at her and tried to reign in her laughter. It was quiet in the kitchen until Hinata said, “I wouldn’t have minded though. He has such pretty blue eyes.”

Sakura only stopped laughing when Hinata threw buttercream at her face.

The assistants walked in from the front of the shop to find Sakura covered in pink and purple frosting, armed with a piping bag full of green frosting, and Hinata shielding her cupcake sculpture.

Sakura was exhausted by the time she got home. It was one of those rare days where she didn’t get home until late. There was so much math and engineering into creating cake sculptures and trial and error.

She slumped against her apartment door and groaned. She had just unlocked the door but had no energy to push it open.

“You’re almost there, don’t pass out now.” Turning slightly, Sakura mumbled incoherently at the sight of Sasuke holding a take out bag. “Jesus Christ, you’re dead on your feet.”

“Carry me,” Sakura grumbled.

Sighing to himself, Sasuke handed her the bag of takeout and crouched down, scooping her legs up and cradling her. “How the fuck did Karin deal with you? She’s twiggy.”

“Suigetsu was usually around or she’d drag me across the floor.” Sakura opened the bag of food and examined the contents as Sasuke set her down on the couch. “Anything I’d like in here?”

“I thought you would be sleeping, but I have some stuff you could tolerate.” He grabbed two plates and brought them to the coffee table and began to serve her some of his food. “Do you ever take a break?”

“I have a day off tomorrow technically.”

“But you’re going to go to work.” Sasuke shook his head, unruly hair swaying around his face. “Typical.”

And with that Sakura lost all desire to eat despite not having had anything to eat all day except for some bread and tastings.

“Hey, where are you? It’s getting weird just sitting here. I can order right now if you’re nearby.”

“Oh, shoot! Sasuke I’m sorry but I’m still at work.”

“Wasn't today your day off?”

So what if she was a “workaholic?” If she were a man no one would see anything wrong with how much she worked.

She knew that eventually she was going to be faced with reminders of what a shitty girlfriend she had been, but she had hoped that she would be alone as she looked back on all of the mistakes she had made.

Sasuke had forgiven her for the first missed date but once he had been stood up a second, third, fourth, fifth time he stopped making any plans for them.

“I gotta take this coat off,” Sakura mumbled, fumbling with the buttons. Sasuke reached over and helped her get free of her coat and then hung it up on the hooks by the door. If he was going to be this nice for the duration of the time they lived together, the shittier she was going to feel.

“Karin said you owned a bakery. When did that happen?” He handed her a plate full of food, much more food than Sakura would have served herself, but one look from Sasuke had her clamming up and taking the set of chopsticks he placed flat across her palm.

“A few years ago…” Sakura swallowed a bite of dumpling. “It was kind of an accident.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and paused in his chewing. Sakura laughed through her nose and explained to him how she had met Hinata.

She had been working at the same high end hotel she had done her apprenticeship when Hinata had been hired on the spot. The tiny, plump woman was quiet and stuttered when speaking to her coworkers because no one wanted her there.

Hinata had been hired because of her last name—the hotel being owned by the Hyūga family—with no references nor any culinary school training which was required to work at the Michelin star hotel restaurant. Due to the fact they were around the same age and because she was the newest hire, Sakura was tasked with watching over the woman. No one else would take up the responsibility thinking that Hinata would hold them back.

Sakura just couldn’t leave Hinata alone. She reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She helped to train her during her off time and guided her through the French techniques that Sakura had been trained in.

The desire to learn and the drive was there, hidden under the fear of failure.

Sakura moved on to work at a custom cake shop where she could use more of her artistic abilities. Eventually the owner was ready to retire and was willing to sell the store to her.

She wanted to own her shop one day. It was part of her goals but brick and mortar shops were expensive. If it weren’t for Hinata’s trust fund she would never have been able to afford the shop. The two of them had kept in touch and when Sakura found out that Hinata was on her way to quitting being a pastry chef, they made plans to go into business together.

Sasuke listened to her story, never interjecting but nodding at certain intervals and slight facial shifts showing that Sakura still had his attention.

“So what have you been up to?” Sakura asked, digging through the leftover noodles in one of the cartons.

“I still work at the same shop. I moved out a few years ago. Funnily enough it was my mom that was on my case not my dad.”

“Really?” Sakura was genuinely shocked.

When she had last seen Fugaku he wasn’t the biggest supporter of Sasuke’s chosen profession. He had paid for him to go to art school, not to waste his talent working at a tattoo parlor. His mother, Mikoto, was the one that had always been his personal cheerleader.

“I think it was all of the new ink,” Sasuke gestured to his sleeve covered arms, “that really did it for my mom. She always made faces at them and commented about what kind of girl I thought I would be attracting with them.”

I always liked your tattoos. Sakura shrugged and stuffed noodles into her mouth to keep from commenting out loud.

When Sakura was just freshly eighteen and finishing her final year of high school, Sasuke was the exact kind of guy her grandmother had wanted her to stay away from. She had left money behind in her will for Sakura to attend the same school she and Sakura’s mother, Mebuki, had attended.

Our Lady of Sorrows was a Catholic private school that Sakura’s parents wouldn’t have been able to afford without the money her grandmother had left behind. She had probably hoped that Sakura would go to private school, be abstinent, go to college and then medical school and then eventually marry a doctor.

It was too bad that Sakura preferred to be in the kitchen with her father a lot more than she cared for her school. If they had let her stay in public school there may have been a better chance of her focusing on her studies and eventually going to medical school like her grandma had wanted her to. Sakura had been miserable at Our Lady of Sorrows, her only solace being Ino and baking.

And Sasuke.

Sasuke had been the kind of cliché salvation a teenage girl fantasized about. And she still couldn’t believe that at one point in their lives, she had been his.

Ino cut off the boy that usually sat at the desk in front of Sakura and slid into the seat, a manic look in her eyes. “Guess what?”

“I’m not playing this game,” Sakura laughed, completely ignoring the boy that was frowning at Ino.

“Well, fine. Be boring.” Ino huffed, blowing her bangs up and letting them flop back on her face. “But anyway so I was talking to your cousin Sasori━”

“Ino, he’s way too old for you and he’s gay. And you have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not why I was talking to your cousin, Billboard Brow.” Ino flicked Sakura’s forehead. “But anywho. So I went to visit your cousin at that parlor he’s working at now ‘cause I wanna get those piercings you wanted for your birthday━no arguments. They’re on me. We’re going after school.”

“That’s awfully generous of you.” Sakura pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her. “Is Sasori giving you a discount?”

Ino scoffed. “I wish! That miser,” she grumbled. Ino shook her hair out and then smiled slyly at her. “But that’s not even the best part.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Ino was really milking the big surprise. She was too impatient for this and the homeroom teacher would show up soon.

“Remember that mega hottie from the public school at the student showcase down at The Factory Art Center?”

Sakura groaned, dropping her head onto her planner. How could she forget? She was just lucky that he hadn’t seen her run straight into a wall because she had been so distracted. The only good thing that came about that was that Ino met her boyfriend Sai that day. And that the boy hadn’t noticed her accident.

It had been a student showcase for the senior students in the schools in the city and Sakura and Ino attended for extra credit. Sakura had been mindlessly looking at all of the pieces until a tall boy wearing all black with messy hair had caught her eye. She had barely heard Ino call out “Dibs!” before she ran into one of the pillars because she wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking.

Ino had given up chase and did her best friend duties by checking up on Sakura. Luckily for her, a different dark haired boy had seen the whole thing and had come over to help out and Ino got her older boyfriend anyway.

“That was almost a whole year ago. Why must you remind me that I embarrassed myself in front of like, seven different senior classes.”

“Mega hottie works at the parlor your cousin does. He’s an apprentice-slash-shop slave.”

That, Sakura hadn’t expected. She had seen his work and expected him to go off to art school and then maybe come back to The Factory Art Center to be a resident artist or for him to even switch tracks and work at Glass & Iron━he did have some lampwork and some welding work as part of his showcase.

“So what?” Sakura swallowed. The grin on Ino’s face was foreboding.

“So,” Ino reached over and played with the ends of Sakura’s long pink hair, “someone is going to take her cute butt down there and finally meet him.”

“Sakura.”

Sakura blinked at the hand that waved in front of her face. Sasuke looked down at her with concern. She looked just about ready to pass out in her noodles.

“Are you okay? You should probably get to bed.” He would just have to clean up everything on his own. And if she tried to go to work on her day off, he’d call the tiny red terror━Karin or Sakura’s cousin, Sasori━to force her to rest for once.

Sakura rubbed her eye with the back of her little fist and murmured, “I should. Thank you for the food.”

She was so small and tired, Sasuke just wanted to scoop her up and bundle her up in her blankets. But then he remembered that she would be going to her own room and he would be going to his and there were four years between now and when he was hers.

Did she still curl herself inward like a cat when she slept? Bury herself under three blankets that weighed almost as much she did?

He could help her to her room and find out. She was dead on her feet and would probably need him to keep from stumbling and running into a wall. It would be so easy to just curl his arm around her waist, pull her closer to his sturdier frame.

It would be easy, oh so easy. And that’s why Sasuke left her to her own devices.

#sasusaku #ss fanfiction #day!fics

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petrichxxr · 3 years

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fateful coincidence [2] | l.jh

A/N: here I am yet again wondering if people still read the things I write... I started this series a year ago (I think) and finally have gotten around to updating it...

Word Count: 12,552

Genre: chaebol/heir!au, supernatural elements/deal with the devil, slice of life, romance (slow burn/soulmates)

Warnings: reader (fem) x lee jooheon (monsta x) pairing, mature/suggestive themes, language

Summary: Lee Jooheon is a well-known heir to a global hotel conglomerate, and is next in line to take over the family business. You’re a journalist, aspiring for more, but barely managing to pay your own bills at the end of the month. The two of you are from entirely different worlds, yet fate somehow tangles your threads, and Jooheon seems to know an intriguing amount more about you than he lets on.

You’re forgetting things.

Like pockets of memory, it starts off small. Miniscule things throughout the day that slowly progress into more important issues. There are holes, you reach in and grasp for something that you know should be there, but nothing comes out. It’s an irritating feeling—to know that something is misplaced, forgotten, but to be unable to identify what it is. It feels as if it’s only gotten worse since the night of the hotel opening, but a part of you is suddenly aware that it’s been going on for much longer than that.

It’s only after the event, waking up the next day with the taste of alcohol lingering, that you wonder how serious your memory displacement might be—because you realize, waking up, that it’s not even the alcohol that’s making you forget. Yet despite that, you still push everything down. You lock it and the dashing Lee Jooheon away in the depths of your mind, forcefully making yourself forget this one thing. You didn’t have the time to keep constantly turning his words over in your head, attempting to sort through the shrouded mystery that they presented. Not just that, but he was from a completely separate world—even if you allowed yourself time to do just that, he was still untouchable.

Plus, you didn’t want to relive every single detail as you described the event to Kihyun. There were some important factors that could be conveniently left out—he had refused to talk to you for almost three days, annoyed you’d hung up on him and given him the cold shoulder that day. Despite having a job to do. But you were just as irritated in his behavior and lack of thoughtfulness the day of the event when you’d called out of work. He hadn’t bothered to check on you at all, and you had needed to get to your job. It was as simple as that, but he’d taken it out of proportion and was being childish.

His childish behavior had dropped after the three days—after he seemed satisfied he’d gotten whatever point he was attempting to make (there was none) across, and after you got some decent recognition from Minhyuk due to the article you’d written. You tried not to consider the fact that it could have been some of Jooheon’s doing that the piece was performing so well, another thought you pushed out of your mind and locked away.

After the hype of everything between the event and article died down, your daily routine fell back into place. Kihyun was back to his normal blunt best friend act, Minhyuk was as bossy as ever and overworked you, and your daily headaches returned.

The daily headaches. You wonder if it has anything to do with your missing pockets of memory.

“Are you forgetting anything?” Kihyun’s voice suddenly breaks through the slight throbbing just beyond your skull, silencing the thoughts that were just about to make everything worse.

You glance up from your suitcase to see him entering your room, eyes scanning over the piece of paper you’d typed up. A gray cloud of fluff, fondly known to be your cat Silas, expertly weaves his way through Kihyun’s feet. Whenever he did that to you, you’d trip and fall—yet for some reason, he and Kihyun had it down to an art. No matter how much Kihyun multitasked, he was always used to the feline being just underfoot.

Silas breaks apart from Kihyun and trots across your bedroom to you. “Hey, bub.” Smiling, you reach out and give the cat a few chin scratches. Looking up to Kihyun, you add, “I don’t think so. You’ve taken care of him before though, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Kihyun frowns. “Not for this extended length of time, though. Does he get separation anxiety?”

“With how much I work and am away from home, anyway? Doubtful. But who knows, he may miss my presence. Just sleep over here. I have food that’ll go bad and you still have a roommate.”

“True. Hyungwon just sleeps, anyway. It’s not like he’ll really notice I’m gone.” Kihyun lowers the paper of instructions for caring for the flat and Silas while you’re gone on your trip, eyeing you. “Are you going to get that checked out, by the way?”

You practically scramble to lower your hands from your neck, realizing Kihyun had spotted you attempting to massage away some of the pain throbbing at the base of your nape. He was always so watchful, it was almost annoying. You understood the headaches were something to be concerned over, but he didn’t have to nitpick so much.

“It’s not really a work trip, nor a leisure trip. I’ll see if I have time.”

“Still, you’ll be visiting home while you’re there. You may as well fit in a doctor’s appointment,” Kihyun pointed out, giving the paper in his hand a small wave. “Plus, you’re there a little over a week. Family matters to take care of or not, you’ll have plenty of time. Make sure to get some rest, too. Maybe you just need some decent sleep.”

You sigh. “Yes, mother, I’ll try to.”

The sound of Kihyun’s scoff immediately follows, along with his footsteps. Silas, who had been sprawled out on the floor this entire time, scurries away at the sudden weight reverberating across the floor that startles him out of his catnap.

“Anyway, did you forget anything?” Kihyun asks once more, eyeing your open suitcase in front of you.

You glance back at your suitcase, a little haphazard with the contents but sorted and all together nonetheless—you just had to figure out how to make everything fit between your checked and carry on baggage—and shake your head. “No, I think I’m good. If I do forget anything, at least I’m going home. There’s usually spare stuff available, or I can just buy it if it’s something small.”

Kihyun frowns. “You were literally just complaining a few weeks ago about having to spend money on a dress, and now you’re saying you can just buy what you need.”

“Well, I figure if I forget anything, it’ll be something cheap like shampoo,” you cut him a look, rolling your eyes. Not a gown, you want to say. “Anyway, let’s get some sleep. Flight leaves at two in the morning, and I’m sure that’s going to be a lovely time waking up for the both of us.”

If possible, Kihyun’s frown deepens. As quickly as you possibly can without making any mistakes, you finish organizing your belongings between the luggage and close everything up, creating a pile to easily collect upon your departure. Kihyun bids a soft goodnight and makes his way back to the makeshift bed he’d created in your living room. You were already dreading the sixteen hour time difference and having to reset your internal clock for your visit to the States. At least all Kihyun had to do was wake up at an almost-unholy hour of the night to drop you off at the airport, then return to home and bed. You hoped sleep would come easily to you on the plane—because as the lights in your apartment are shut off and you close your eyes, the pounding of your headache seems to increase and rear its ugly head in full force—making sleep almost impossible for the five or six hours ahead of you.

—

Sleep comes, at some point—though not easily. But as long as it took to come, it ends in an even shorter amount of time. When you finally do fall asleep, it feels as though only a few moments pass before your alarm begins to go off. You groan, your head still pounding, and roll over to bury yourself further under your covers. The blaring song of your alarm does nothing to ease the throbbing within your skull, and you wonder how you’re supposed to get into an airplane and make the trip. Will the climb in altitude make your head hurt worse?

It’s Kihyun’s groaning from the other room, followed by his annoyed stomps—that finally wakes you. He silences your phone alarm before abruptly pulling your covers off you, making you groan again.

“Wake up,” Kihyun orders, and you feel your shoulder shoved at. “You don’t want to be late.”

“I don’t want to be at all…” Comes your sleepily mumbled reply.

“We are not having an existential crisis at twelve in the morning. Get up. I will not hesitate to drag you out of bed,” Kihyun warns. “And your apartment floors are wood.”

Letting out a sigh, you push yourself into a sitting position. Giving your eyes a rub, applying a slight pressure in hopes to ward away the throbbing headache, you drop your hands then blink a few times and allow your sight to adjust to the darkness of your bedroom.

“You still have a headache?” You see Kihyun frown in the dark.

“Why are you surprised? It’s a constant thing nowadays,” you sigh once more, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed. “Plus, it took forever to fall asleep. I’ll just sleep on the plane, though. Do you mind packing the car and I’ll get ready?”

You don’t really wait for Kihyun to answer, knowing he’ll do so anyway without you having asked, moving around to collect the clothes you’d set out the evening before and heading to the bathroom. One of Kihyun’s pet peeves was being tardy, and while you lived close enough to the airport that it wasn’t a huge deal to leave a little later—it had been Kihyun’s idea to at least get there an hour and a half earlier than your flight. Which honestly made sense on any normal occasion, but the airport was sure to be a bit on the dead side considering the time of night.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready. Your warm morning shower does nothing to ease the tension in your head—a last ditch effort you had hoped might work. By the time you’ve finished a very shortened version of your morning routine brushing your teeth, drying your hair, and applying your facial care—Kihyun already has the car packed and is pouring some food into Silas’ bowl, before pulling a hoodie on and getting ready himself. You gather the last of your toiletry items that need to be packed, and when the two of you head downstairs and you bid your farewell to your beloved feline, you stuff your toiletry bag into the top zipper of your luggage.

Kihyun was right to urge you to leave earlier rather than later. Despite the distance to the airport, there’s a decent amount of midnight traffic due to it being a weekend. You close your eyes as he drives, the blinding city and street lights glaring against the glass window of the car and burning your pupils and head. Kihyun’s smooth operation of the vehicle makes it easy to doze off a couple of times before you arrive. While the traffic may have been on the heavier side, you still make it early, and with plenty of time to spare.

“Make sure to tell me when you land,” Kihyun orders as he helps pull your bags out of the trunk of the car.

“I will.” You’d be sure not to have a repeat of the hotel opening night, where he hadn’t checked in on you when you’d called out, and out of spite you hadn’t bothered to reach out to him. “Make sure you send me plenty of photos of Silas while I’m gone.”

“He’ll be fine, he’s a cat.”

You jut out your bottom lip into a pout. “That’s not what I said.”

Kihyun scoffs, but reaches up to pat your head gently. “I’ll send you photos. Please try to see if you can get into a doctor while you’re there.”

“You’re going to keep pushing that, aren’t you?”

“As much as I possibly can,” Kihyun lowers his hand to give you a one-armed hug. “I’m going to miss pestering you. I don’t think we’ve been separated for a week since we met in college.”

“You could just say you’re going to miss me like a normal person would.”

“There’s no fun in that though.” Kihyun grins down at you, before nodding towards the entrance to your gate.

Giving a small wave, you gather your luggage and head inside. In total, it takes about thirty minutes to get your bag checked, get yourself checked in for your flight, and to go through security. Just as you’d suspected, the airport is practically dead at this hour and the lines are nonexistent. However, the traffic had been enough to make a dent in the time, and you thankfully don’t have long to wait before they start calling for your gate to board. There’s exactly enough time to grab a quick pastry from a nearby coffee shop that happened to be open before making your way onto the plane when your seat section is called.

You board the plane, stow your carryon in the overhead compartment, and then claim your seat and fasten your seatbelt. Having flown before, you stick your earbuds in your ears—figuring you’ll listen to the flight attendants’ usual spiel when the time came—but more eager to make yourself comfortable and attempt some more sleep as quickly and as soon as possible. Especially since you’d been lucky enough to snag an unclaimed window seat. This meant you were tucked away in your own little back corner, hopefully left alone for the sixteen hours ahead by whoever decided to take up being your seat partner.

Hopefully left alone was too much along the lines of wishful thinking.

As you stare out the window, watching workers move about below in the dark as they load and prep the plane for takeoff—you suddenly feel an uncomfortable tug on the cord of your earbud, before it’s pulled straight from your ear. You can’t help but grimace, feeling the bud tug at one of your many piercings.

“What the hell—”

Just as you speak up, a voice that’s all too familiar asks, simultaneously, “What are you listening to?”

You blanch as you turn in your seat, coming face to face with none other than Lee Jooheon. He quirks a brow at you, tilting his head to the side as he inserts your stolen earbud into his own ear. You can just barely make out the dimple impressions on his cheeks, his mouth pressed into something along the lines of a smile suppressing an amused smirk.

“How—” The word falls from your lips, empty and confused. How, what? You wonder. How did he get here? How was he on the same flight as you? How did he recognize you? Not that you’d chosen to sit too far towards the back, honestly—anyone walking into the plane after just boarding could easily recognize a familiar face with an empty seat next to them. You liked sitting toward the front-middle of planes when traveling; apparently, in this case, that was your downfall.

“Business trip,” Jooheon just shrugs, replying simply. “Why didn’t you ever text me that night?”

You turn away from him, pursing your lips. Text him? You briefly remembered him handing you a business card, though couldn’t remember where it had slipped off to—too many drinks made it difficult to keep track of something that small. He’d only asked for you to notify him you got home safe, anyway, so what was the big deal? His bodyguard that had escorted you home surely passed that bit of info along to him.

Had he—a possible multimillion dollar heir—really expected you to text him, unannounced? And why would he expect such a thing?

Copying his shrug, you glance away from him. “I lost your business card.”

It wasn’t a lie. As much as you wanted to admit, it was easy to forget the business card and it’s whereabouts. It was easy to forget the possibility of texting him as he’d asked. With the alcohol that had coursed through you, it was easy to forget that entire night. That was something that would probably irk him if you did choose to admit it. However, what wasn’t easy to forget were his words that randomly popped into your mind and turned over in your head, playing like a broken record—Do you really not remember me?

That, on the contrary, was something that irked you.

What was there to remember? Had you really forgotten something? It was a question that burned into your mind, day and night, even when you attempted to suppress all thoughts of him. You tried not to allow yourself to think of the events of that day, or him. While the former was fairly easy, there was something about Jooheon himself that made the latter next to impossible. There was no way for you to fight off the burning curiosity he’d created, as much as you tried. You could forget everything but him and his mysterious words.

“Well, we can fix that,” Jooheon’s reply doesn’t miss a beat. Before you even have a chance to react to his words, you feel your unlocked phone slip through your fingers and out of your grasp.

“H-Hey—”

But Jooheon is paying no mind to your protest, and you watch as he swipes out of the Spotify app on your phone to open the dialing screen. His fingers glide across your screen as he inputs his number. He even goes a step further as to open your messages and start a new text to himself—ensuring he also had your number.

As he hands your phone back to you, you frown, feeling your jaw tense. You glance down at the screen briefly, which he’d returned to your playlist, before looking back up at him. What would he do if you blatantly deleted his phone number? A part of you felt spiteful enough to do so just for the mere fact that he had taken your phone without asking and entered his number. It’s fine, I’ll just delete his number after the flight, you decide. Even if he has my number, I can just block him.

Whatever kind of coincidence this was—it was just that. A coincidence. Nothing more would amount after this. It was rather unlucky you were stuck here for sixteen hours with the given circumstances, but you reminded yourself that this wouldn’t be happening again, and to just suffer through it for now. But there was a small part of you that wasn’t quite convinced it was merely just a coincidence, like you hoped… his words from the hotel opening night, like a broken record, continued to replay in your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something missing. Something you really had forgotten.

“I like this song,” Jooheon comments off-hand, and you only hum in response, finally turning away. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t really in the mood to engage him. Maybe he’d only spoken up and said that because you’d been staring for so long, taking your gaze the wrong way. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be completely lacking in common sense. Jooheon doesn’t push for more of a reply out of you, allowing the two of you to sit in silence as the rest of the flight occupants take their seats.

It’s almost more unnerving to sit next to Jooheon without saying anything. During the hotel night, before things had gotten weird with what he’d muttered, you two had been able to freely talk without much difficulty. There was something about his energy that made it almost comfortable, yet invigorating, to be in his presence at that time. But now the invigoration has twisted and warped into an unnerving feeling. For the most part, you feel on edge—yet there’s still a high energy, a curiosity, that sparks between you. While the flight attendants review the usual plane and flying regulations, you find yourself glancing at Jooheon. The music still plays between the two of you, having not reclaimed your earbud and he having not offered to return it.

Despite your better judgement, you’re aware of the way that the wire of the headphones rests against his shoulders, and how in normal, casual clothes—he’s actually quite broad. It’s something you feel like you should have noticed when he was dressed to the nines in a suit, yet so many suit jackets have padding you weren’t actually sure you would have trusted it. But in the simple hoodie he was wearing, you can see the breadth of his shoulders, and you’re positive it’s not because it’s oversized. He looks so simple, the outfit rounded together with some black sweatpants and a white shirt peeking out from underneath the hooded sweatshirt. So simple, and so unlike an heir or someone of his financial status. You try to ignore the fact that your brain keeps yelling at you that he looks good. It’s not important right now—or right ever, actually. Why did your mind feel the need to supply such an observation?

You’re about to pull your gaze away from your attention on Jooheon, when you notice something as you do so—where his hand lays on the armrest, his finger taps incessantly. The tapping seems to pick up speed, even becoming more sporadic, as you feel the plane beneath you pick up speed with the takeoff. For a moment, you lose yourself in the background noise of his tapping—the tiny sound overtaking your senses and demanding your focus, a rhythmic and hypnotic thing. Don’t worry about him, you tell yourself. But there’s a part of your mind that is just too curious.

“Are you okay?” You suddenly ask, dragging your eyes away from his fingers. The action seems to feel as though it takes slower than it should.

“Huh?” Jooheon blinks at you in surprise, having not expected you to acknowledge him for the rest of the flight. It’s then that he realizes what he’s doing, and he stills his hand. “Yeah, fine.”

But when you glance down, you notice the way he grips the armrest instead—forcing his muscles to be still. You think he might start vibrating with the anxiety.

“Are you sure?”

Jooheon nods, though the action is terse. “I just don’t like flying.”

“Don’t you have to do it a lot, though?” You ask, surprised. He was the heir to an international hotel chain. Wasn’t he meant to do a lot of flying? Plus, he could be considered a businessman… the idea of him not liking flying and being used to planes confuses you.

“I—” Jooheon starts, though his words are immediately cut off as the plane picks up, pulling itself off the ground as it officially takes off. Jooheon intakes his breath sharply, the takeoff pushing both of you back against your seats. It’s not a rough takeoff, per se, but you’d definitely had smoother.

Despite that, Jooheon isn’t handling it well. Something within you pulls toward him—an innate need to protect that you can't quite explain. It’s like a little tiny flame, you feel it stir within you and you can’t help but want to feed it. The combination of his intake of breath, and the way his jaw clenches when he closes his eyes, causes you to reach out without thinking—practically prying his hand off the armrest to take hold of it.

You wrap your hand around his, giving a reassuring squeeze.

Jooheon is surprised by the contact—enough so he stills for a moment, opening his eyes to peer down at your hands in curiosity—before he’s caught by surprise by something else. It’s in that moment that your hand folds around his, skin touching skin and your warmth flooding into his system through shared palms—entwining itself around every nerve—that everything stills. The sensation of everything within him simply quieting—the black, reverberating anxiety that shook at his core like a thunderous stormcloud, and the way his stomach twisted with nausea at every jerky movement the plane made. But it wasn’t just that, it was everything from that to standard stresses, a whirlwind of things that needed to be done for work, and the tormenting voices he often had to deal with within his own mind—they all just silence at your touch.

He finds his gaze locked on your hands, confused and curious all at the same time. He’d never had this happen before. Was this something that was supposed to happen? Even if he wanted to, Jooheon feels as though he’s unable to pull away from the warmth there. Like your palms are magnetized, connected, and something he shouldn’t pull apart. There was a warmth just beneath his hand, where his skin met your skin, that he could feel building like a little fire. But instead of overtaking everything in the way that a wildfire might, Jooheon finds the warmth to be soothing. Comforting, like a warm drink that fills you up—or perhaps closer to the sensation of sinking into the warm water of a bathtub. The silence within him is a welcome sensation that he’d personally like to drown himself in, if only to escape reality for just a little bit and stay suspended where he was in that strange sensation of lulled time.

For you, the skin to skin contact with Jooheon is scalding. You immediately feel that electricity you’d felt the night of the hotel opening shoot across every nerve in your body like a cosmos, the tiny flame you’d been curious about flare up with a vengeance. The heat that floods through your system at his contact in places you’d never even imagined—the pit of your stomach, the cavity of your chest, the back of your throat, is parching and suffocating and entirely overwhelming. It overtakes you in such a way that you feel your chest seize up, like you can’t breathe. But for some reason, you hang on to him. You wonder if you’ll start shaking from the sudden pressure that feels as though it’s been placed on your body, hyper-aware of the contact of him.

Yet, for some reason you don’t have the answer to, nor the mind or focus to think about—despite the way his skin contact is scalding, the nerves in your body ignited and burning from his touch—you still find yourself reaching out to him during the flight. It’s almost like it’s instinctual, though you aren’t quite sure how that would even be possible. Every time you notice Jooheon tense or become physically uncomfortable, the incessant tapping of his fingertips against the arm of the seat picking back up—you reach out to him. Your touch stills the anxiety from pouring out of his body in a physical form. It always happens when there’s turbulence, Jooheon seemingly seizing up every time the plane acts up in any way. You find it an odd fear or worry to have, considering he should be someone accustomed to flying so much, but you suppose people don’t get to pick and choose what it is that they’re afraid of.

For a good majority of the flight, Jooheon opts to leave you alone. As much as he has questions and curiosities, and a need to hear your voice, he doesn’t want to push his luck. Every time your hand finds his whenever the turbulence of the plane gets to be too much for him—everything within him stills after a shock of electricity passes through his system from your touch. It’s like that single strike flashes through his system, piercing through every bit of thick, smoky anxiety in its wake. But beyond that touch, Jooheon doesn’t ask or prompt for much more. And as the turbulence settles the longer the sixteen-hour flight drags on, the less Jooheon feels your touch that acts as a solid comfort to him. Instead, he relies more on the music the two of you listen to together. You never ask for the earbud back, and the cord of the shared headphones acts as the main thing linking you together the more time passes.

Jooheon only pushes his luck a little bit every time food or snacks come around. He takes these moments to chat with the stewardess, asking some questions, and pulling you into the conversation with ease. It’s then that you find yourself stuck in small chats with him as he passes you snacks, drinks, or your meal. Luckily, it’s easy conversation that—for the most part—doesn’t push any boundaries, and always has something to do with the food being passed around. Questions like, How does that taste? What’s your favorite food? And barters to trade snacks. They’re interactions that don’t require much of a thought process otherwise, just meaningless words to fill the silence and help pass the time. While most of your interactions with him up until that point had been begrudging, to put kindly, Jooheon couldn’t help but be surprised at how receptive you could actually be.

In between conversation, you spend the flight trying to get some shut-eye in, as you had originally planned—to no avail. You aren’t sure if it’s the presence of Jooheon being so close to you, his flying anxiety, or the sensation and sounds that came with flying that make it difficult to find sleep. From the corner of his eyes, you’re unaware of Jooheon watching you nod off every now and again, unable to ignore the way your head starts to bob or fall back against the seat suddenly. At these times, you barely manage to catch just a few fleeting moments of rest, something you couldn’t quite place your finger on always stirring you back awake.

It’s during one of these brief moments when you stir back awake that you notice Jooheon working on a tablet. At first, you think nothing of it, wanting to go back to sleep—even though you’re almost certain it’s impossible at this point—but, then it dawns on you that Jooheon is focused and quiet, and most importantly: Working, and not bothering you. As much as you hated to admit it, you’d become accustomed to Jooheon pestering you every time you moved even an inch. His silence almost disturbed you.

You blink a few times, blearily at first, refocusing your gaze and quietly straightening in your seat to peek a glance at the tablet. It sits in Jooheon’s lap, propped against one of his knees that he has raised and crossed over the other leg, where he drags the stylus against the screen, moving a specific item back and forth across the piece he’s working on. You can’t tell if he’s being erratic or indecisive. For a moment, though, you stare—studying what you assume to be some sort of pamphlet being put together for a hotel—before a yawn overtakes you.

When the yawn subsides, you shift in your seat, leaning closer to Jooheon. You give his elbow a nudge on the arm rest as you peer further over his shoulder at the tablet. “There’s too much white space.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing when Jooheon startles in surprise at your sudden intrusion into his space—having thought you were asleep still—letting a curse in Korean slip from his mouth under his breath. Cute, you can’t help but think, offering up a sheepish smile as if to apologize when Jooheon turns his head to stare you down, his eyes screaming offense. Jooheon lets out a small sigh, turning away and lifting a hand up to pat his chest and clear his throat—attempting to settle a heart that had almost tried to jump out of his chest.

“I can’t get this layout to work,” Jooheon says as he returns his attention to the tablet in front of him.

You reach over the armrest, and over his arm which holds the tablet, pointing at the screen as you speak. “You should resize these things, and then move this font here, and this image here. You could also do an overlay with a neutral color to offset the layers of this.”

As you point to what you’re talking about, careful not to touch the tablet and accidentally move something, Jooheon watchings your index finger carefully. You don’t notice the way his brows knit in focus, hanging on every word you say and carefully listening to you. You also don’t notice the way that, as you speak, he’ll find himself losing focus for just a split second to allow his eyes to flicker to your face—so close to his as you lean over the armrest—taking a fleeting moment to admire the way you seem so serious and concentrated, your eyes alight with determined focus. Jooheon glances away from you, and back down to the tablet as you speak, feeling the corners of his lips twitch with amusement. This is what you liked doing. It was the part of your job that you liked, and he could tell. A stark contrast to the night of the hotel opening, which just seemed stressful and forced on you.

It’s Jooheon’s turn to shift in his seat, leaning closer to you as he pulls his arm back and puts the tablet on the armrest between the two of you. You feel yourself freeze slightly at the proximity, having been so focused on what you were telling him. He lifts his hand, holding out the stylus to you. You blink, glancing at him and meeting his gaze—brief enough that it makes your chest clench—before glancing at the stylus.

“What?”

“I’m not going to retain any of what you just said. I got a bit of it. You take over.”

“You… want me?” You blink in surprise, glancing at the screen of the tablet, and at him again. “This seems important though. It’s for your work, I could mess it up—”

Jooheon scoffs. “Please, if anything—I’m the one that’ll mess it up. You’re the journalism major here, I’d say you’re much more qualified.”

“Then why are you doing this?” You ask, relenting and taking the stylus from Jooheon.

“We acquired a hotel in Los Angeles a few months back that’s been undergoing renovation—for the line of hotels I introduced at the grand opening the other night. The one in Seoul was built from the ground up, but we’ve slowly been expanding and we took a historic hotel and made it our own,” Jooheon explains, watching as you finally touch the stylus tip to the tablet and begin to work. “Anyway, long explanation shorter—the opening for that and the reintroduction of the new management is soon, but we recently lost our marketing manager. We haven’t been able to find someone else to hire, and we’ve got deadlines to reach. I’ve been trying to help out by taking over half of the job duties from the general manager.”

“That’s very… responsible of you.”

“Well, this whole chain is my responsibility,” Jooheon muses. “So, yeah. But also my best friend is the GM and his ass is getting kicked. Neither of us are any good at this, we’re just good at the business portion of it.”

The conversation falls off there, Jooheon realizing you’re focusing. Hearing he and his general manager were struggling made you feel more pressure, and you can’t help but mentally chastise yourself for stepping in and helping, despite how clearly he had been struggling. Luckily, Jooheon stays close to you as he watches you work, leaning against the armrest. You try not to focus too much on the way your shoulders touch, or the way his scent flows into your space as he delegates a little, giving you technical hotel terminology to include and add in as the pamphlet comes to life on the tablet screen and the white space that had been taking up the majority of the screen before slowly melts away. When he challenges something you do, he allows for you to explain your reasoning behind it and listens carefully as you do so. You find yourself surprised at how well he listens, and how easily it is to compromise with him on certain things.

You two spend a couple of hours working away at the project together before determining it’s finished, Jooheon and yourself both pleased with the outcome. Jooheon is smiling with enough force that his dimples show on his cheeks, and you can’t help but find yourself smiling along with him—his happiness infectious; you’re happy he’s happy, and you’re happy to have helped. Yet even with the happiness, you find your eyes stinging because of staring at a bright screen for so long, and are acutely aware of your beloved ever-present migraine rearing its ugly head even more than it had at the start of the flight. Jooheon takes note of the way you lift a hand to pinch your nose, attempting to suppress the pain throbbing from your skull.

“Get some sleep. I won’t bother you anymore,” Jooheon comments, lifting the tablet up briefly to give it a small wave. “Thanks for your help though.”

“No problem,” you mumble, suppressing yawn. His thank you catches you off-guard, enough so that you lower your hand from the bridge of your nose to blink at him a couple of times. But he’s not paying attention, turning away from you to put the tablet back into a carry-on he’d had stowed underneath the seat ahead of him. You shift in your seat—away from the position which had you closer to him—attempting to make yourself comfortable again as you close your eyes.

Sleep seems like a fever dream to you. Something you’re aware that you’re receiving, but never feeling quite satisfied from it. As if it’s there, but simultaneously not; all a figment of your imagination. You begin to doze almost immediately after closing your eyes, the migraine practically pushing you to do so, because keeping your eyes open hurt too much. The intensity of the migraine doesn’t relent, though, which has you dozing and waking just as you had before you’d begun helping Jooheon with his work. Just as before, you find yourself going in and out of consciousness, nodding off and startling awake when your head begins to bob or tip too far. You sleep in increments—none of it restful.

Jooheon is aware of your restlessness next to him, but he’d promised not to bother you—and he has to remind himself of that. But the way your head tips and bobs makes him feel anxious for you. Especially because he could briefly recall a mention of a constant headache the night of the hotel opening, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the reason sleep wasn’t coming to you easily was because of that. Had you been serious about it? You had a dry sense of humor, which he found quite amusing, but it had him often wondering if what you said was the truth or not at certain times—and did a decent job to keep him on his toes as he attempted to figure out whether you were being serious at times.

He gives in to listening to himself constantly telling himself that he had said he wouldn't bother you, though, after too much time passes watching your head nod as sleep attempts to overtake you. That has got to be uncomfortable on the neck… he thinks to himself, completely giving in when he watches your head fall forward a bit too far. Jooheon reaches out to catch your head, guiding it gently toward his shoulder. As he does so, he sinks lower in his seat just a bit, so your head can rest more comfortably against him. He’s a little disappointed to find that the instant calm and quiet that had overtaken him earlier during the turbulence from your touch doesn’t envelop him warmly again—he is, however, surprised to find that after a few moments pass, you shift in your seat closer to him. When Jooheon glances at you after feeling the movement, he finds you still asleep—thankfully—slumping to the side to lean towards him more comfortably, snuggling against his shoulder.

The way you nuzzle against him has him tensing in surprise—a heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. The action from you and the heat he feels overtake him with a sudden ferocity are familiar. Too familiar. A type of hunger he’d rather not put a name to.

No, Lee Jooheon. Not right now. He clenches his jaw, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly, feeling parched suddenly. It was strange how different actions elicited different reactions, his body responding in such stark contrast to each. As Jooheon turns away, he carefully lifts his hood up and over his head, closing his eyes.

He should sleep, too. There was still quite a bit of flight left.

—

You’re met with silence when you finally wake.

The plane is bustling and alive, a quiet hum of sound that reverberates through the cabin as people speak in hushed tones and get ready for their landing. These sounds all come to you, slowly seeping into your consciousness. Before your body fully wakes—before you begin to tense your muscles and stretch, and a yawn overtakes you while your eyes crack open—your mind wakes first. And you notice something that seems a little off.

Everything is silent.

Your headache is completely gone.

You stay still for a moment, reveling in the odd silence, though your mind is reeling as to why the migraines which had been plaguing you for months were just suddenly gone. The cavity of your skull where your mind rests feels empty, but in an oddly good way. What had changed? What had happened? Was it the ascension in the plane to a higher altitude? Was that even something that could stop chronic migraines?

It almost felt too good to be true, considering your migraines also came hand-in-hand with your pockets of disappearing memory. For all that to just suddenly stop felt too good to be true.

Furrowing your brows, you squeeze your eyes closed tighter. You want to stay here—suspended in silence and the darkness behind your eyelids—forever. There was no ache just beyond your temple that caused nausea; the pain so bad sometimes you felt like you might pass out. There was no ache behind your eyes that typically brought about the stinging sensation of tears, and made the glaring brightness of any sort of light hurt. There was nothing. There was just silence. No thoughts, no suffocating pressure, no pain.

“Are you awake now?” Abruptly, Jooheon’s not-so-welcome, yet familiar, voice breaks through your silence.

Begrudgingly, you open your eyes, blinking a few times to readjust to the light. And then, you blink again, realizing the tilted angle at which you’re resting.

“Sleep well?” The hint of amusement in Jooheon’s voice has you jolting upright—and off his shoulder, where you’d been resting your head. You take a moment to stare ahead, refusing to meet Jooheon’s curious gaze that you can feel burning into you. Silently, you swallow down your nervousness and glance to your side, avoiding his gaze for a moment to stare at his shoulder—your makeshift pillow for who knows how long—then you lift your eyes to meet his.

Without prompting vocally again, Jooheon simply raises an eyebrow.

You almost hate to admit you did sleep well, considering the push and pull you kept experiencing towards Jooheon. There were too many unanswered questions about him, too many things that made you curious and worried at the same time. He was too mysterious. Admitting something like this to him almost felt like you were placing a playing card right in his hand. There was a small part of you that wondered if his presence had anything to do with it, but you immediately pushed that thought out of your mind, writing it off as absolutely absurd. You barely knew him, how would he have any sort of effect on you such as that?

Letting out a sigh, you nod finally in answer.

Jooheon takes the silent answer with a small nod of his own, turning away to gather his belongings which had been at his feet to begin putting in the backpack he had, before pushing it back under the seat before him. “That’s good, you looked like you needed some decent rest.”

“Apparently so. My headache—or rather, migraine—is gone.”

When Jooheon straightens in his seat, he turns to look at you again. “You mentioned once you had a constant headache. Was it that bad?”

You nod. “It would vary. Sometimes it was a headache, sometimes a migraine. Anywhere from manageable to incapacitating, but always constant. It’s been going on for almost three months now, I think?”

“That long?” Jooheon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and the corners of his lips immediately follow in the opposite direction, pulling down into a frown. “You mentioned during our first meeting you were stressed, but that sounds like something more than just stress. Have you been to a doctor?”

“Please, finding the time is too difficult. Don’t start nagging me like Kihyun.” Out of habit, the borderline pushiness of his words has you reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. There’s no headache there to attempt to subside—which has your hand just as quickly falling down from your face. You frown at your palm, studying it. The habit had been built on stress, and as stressful as Jooheon’s miniscule attempt to nag had been, there was no physical representation of that stress like usual.

Maybe Kihyun is the problem, you muse to yourself. He did have a tendency to nag to the extreme. Almost like a mother.

“I’m starting to think Kihyun might be on to something,” Jooheon grumbles from next to you, causing you to lift your gaze from your hand. “You seem to be stubborn, you need someone to nag you, it seems like. You should find the time. Three months almost certainly implies there’s some sort of underlying health concern.”

“My headache is still gone, don’t ruin the moment. If you keep it up, it’s almost certainly going to come back.”

With a scoff, you look away from him and nestle back into your seat. As you do so, an announcement over the intercom notifies everyone aboard the plane of the oncoming landing. Instructions to start preparing for landing by putting away and stowing all belongings follows, and the stewardess over the speaker ends the announcement by asking everyone to return to their seats and begin buckling up.

“Fine. I won’t ruin this moment. But I can’t promise for any future moments,” Jooheon declares. When you glance at him in surprise, he looks over at you with a small dimpled smirk. You end up rolling your eyes—rolling your gaze away from him. How the heck was he so annoying, yet somehow charming?

As if someone hears the word charming cross through your mind—the plane hits a bit of turbulence just before it begins to tip to the side, turning to make a circle to land. It’s a very slight maneuver, almost unnoticeable. In fact, you were so accustomed to flying that you really wouldn’t have noticed it yourself, if not for the fact that Jooheon, next to you, was visibly tensing as he had earlier. His hand, lying on the armrest between you, grips the edge so hard the skin pulls taught and translucent over his knuckles.

Even Jooheon’s unusual fear and his reaction to it, something you had become accustomed to during the flight, was somehow charming.

Wordlessly, you reach out, pushing your hand beneath his where it grips the armrest. It takes a bit of urging before he feels your fingertips pushing against the base of his palm near his wrist, attempting to push your way underneath. When Jooheon does, he glances at you in surprise, lifting his hand just enough for you to slip yours beneath to take hold of him as you had before.

When your palms connect, fingers wrapping around his and him returning the gesture, that scalding feeling from before returns. You knew you’d be burned, touching him—yet for some reason, as you had so many times through the flight already—it was a risk you were willing to take. That same electricity that you’d felt before, and felt from the night of the hotel opening, shoots up your arm from where your palms connect and shoots across every nerve in your body again. This time, though, it feels so much stronger—and now you wonder if the clarity of your migraine being gone is a good thing, or a bad thing. Without the heavy, leaden fog that rests over your mind with the migraine, you’re suddenly aware and feel everything. So much so that the contact this time and the reaction your body has to him makes you flinch in surprise, though very subtly.

Jooheon, of course, takes silent note—his eyes never not watching you curiously.

That electric fire that swarms through you happens in such a brief amount of time that it takes you a few moments of staring at your hand, connected with Jooheon’s, to realize that it at some point quiets down to something more akin to a simmer. Warm, and somehow pleasant. Something like sitting in a window, where sun filters through, your eyes closed against the sunlight that warms the glass and warms you.

You really had to be going crazy, you think. Jooheon was handsome but there was no way you were attracted to him—right?

Meanwhile, the same warmth floods through Jooheon, euphoric and soothing. He draws his eyes away from you, clenching his jaw and trying not to physically react to the fuzzy feeling that overtakes him, filling him up yet again. The welcome silence of everything stopping within him returns. If he isn’t careful, he’s sure he might let out a sigh of contentment that would give everything away. And so, he clenches his jaw a little tighter, pursing his lips.

“You’re going to break the poor armrest,” you say, past a knot that forms in your throat. Your throat feels dry, seizing up again. You feel awkward just holding his hand—especially as you try to make sense of the sudden fire that had built up just as it had before, before slowly dying down into something more manageable. This time, it wasn’t as suffocating. Yet you still felt somehow nervous and small next to him, that unnerving edginess he causes settling over you again. Your body was starting to feel as though it was experiencing whiplash.

A little over sixteen hours spent in his presence was starting to confuse you. Were you still irked by him, yet somehow intrigued? Or were you actually starting to soften up to him? You had to admit that his mysterious riddled words and overly generous actions had made you immediately throw up a wall… but he hadn’t been that bad during this flight. He’d been much more normal, still as charming, but besides taking your phone for himself—he hadn’t pushed any boundaries or said anything weird.

“You’d rather I break your hand, then?” Jooheon retorts good-naturedly, which has you suddenly snorting out a small laugh.

“Please don’t actually break it. I need to return to work after this trip.”

“What are you on this trip for, anyway?” Jooheon wonders, and when you look at him with a frown, he shrugs. “I told you what I’m going to LA for.”

“Family reasons.”

“A vacation, then?”

You shake your head, grimacing at the thought of what awaits you when you land. Although Jooheon has made the flight a little more bearable, despite everything you thought about him prior, a small part of you wishes you hadn’t even boarded the plane back in Seoul. Knowing what you were walking into when the plane landed—you wished for everything that, somehow, you wouldn’t have to. If only you hadn’t been pressured into taking this trip. You wanted to stay suspended here, with your migraine gone and a bit of peace from everything in life and just spend some time not thinking. Not thinking about work, not thinking about family, and not thinking about how much pain you were constantly in. Kihyun had told you to get your migraine checked out while you were near your family doctor, but you wondered when you’d have time for that—wondered how long this peace from the head pain would last. Which is why you wanted to keep it, for as long as possible. It was so nice to have some silence and a break from it all. Soon, you’d be walking back into more pain. Unwillingly so, but that was the outcome, nonetheless.

“It’s not going to feel like a vacation.” Comes your answer, just as the plane lands. It’s at that moment that Jooheon squeezes your hand, the impact of the plane hitting the runway jostling everyone inside just a bit. But there’s something in the way that he gives the squeeze—almost reassuring instead of to comfort himself—that has you staring at your hands, yet again, in silent curiosity.

Jooheon keeps holding your hand up until the plane reaches a complete stop once it pulls up to the jetway. It’s only then that he relinquishes his hold, and the both of you silently gather up the belongings which you’d brought as carry on items onto the plane. Other passengers begin to do the same, standing in their rows and slowly beginning to exit the plane. Jooheon, once he has everything in his backpack he’d brought with him, soon stands in the row you share, turning to glance over his shoulder. As you finish gathering your things into the backpack you’d brought on the plane with you after claiming it from the overhead bin, you look up at him—noticing him searching.

You peek over the top edge of your seat just as Jooheon appears to have found who he was looking for, giving a curt nod of acknowledgement. “I’ll meet you outside,” he says, nodding over his shoulder to signal when they exit the plane. You squint, studying the people, before your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, instantly recognizing the larger built man a few aisles back from you who seems to nod a reply to Jooheon.

“He was here too?” You blurt out, without thinking, memories immediately flashing back to the night you’d been drunk and that man had taken you home. You grimace, sinking down in your seat a bit and hoping he doesn’t see you.

Your outburst causes Jooheon to glance down at you in surprise, lips twitching in amusement at your reaction and the way you attempt to hide yourself. “Of course. Hoseok’s my bodyguard. And kind of an assistant, since he keeps track of all my schedules.”

“Why’d you sit with me instead of the person you came on this trip with?”

Jooheon shrugs. “You’re much more interesting. Plus, I see him every day.”

You frown, but before you can reply, Jooheon reaches down behind you where you sit, backpack on, and gives the hook strap on your bag a tug, urging you to your feet. The two aisles ahead of you move to make their exit, marking it as your turn next. Jooheon turns away as you stand, stepping out of the aisle—and his next action catches you by surprise. He steps out enough to block others from cutting out and ahead, nodding for you to go first. Blinking in surprise, you almost trip as you rush out of the aisle so as to not hold up the line, feeling Jooheon keep close behind you as he follows.

You don’t realize until you’re off the plane that Jooheon has an ulterior motive by letting you exit first. As soon as you’ve cleared the bridge connecting the plane to the terminal gate, and have stepped out into the waiting area, Jooheon steps forward from behind you and slips his hand into your own. He takes a firm hold, tugging you along as he leads you off.

“Hey!” Surprised, you stumble after him, having not even had a chance to figure out what your next step after arrival would be—you’d traveled back in time, and it was almost nine o’clock at night on a Friday in Los Angeles. You needed to figure out a form of transportation home, first and foremost, before things started to close down. “J-Jooheon!”

The sound of his name slows his pace down, and Jooheon glances over his shoulder at you with a quirked brow—but he doesn’t stop walking. “That’s the second time you’ve said my name.”

You frown, staring at him. Had he been counting such a thing? You hadn’t really been aware you’d said his name so little… but you had been avidly avoiding the use of it. You didn’t want to give him too much power by using his name. It was better, you thought, to just keep him as a stranger. That’s what you’d thought the night of the opening ceremony and the nights following where he’d constantly tormented the gaping hole in your memory. Unfortunately, he’d pushed past that boundary line already—something you were well aware of. Lee Jooheon was more like an acquaintance now, and as much as you hated it—it was too late to turn back.

“We’re going to go get food,” he announces when you don’t say anything to his statement, turning away from you to keep leading you on.

You give your hand a tug, attempting to pull it back to yourself. “We don’t need to, though—”

“Nonsense, I’m starving. The plane meals weren't that filling.” Jooheon glances over his shoulder at you again. “And like I said, you’re much more interesting to spend time with. I’m not done doing so yet—as soon as you leave this airport, who knows when I’ll see you again, or if you’ll even use that phone number I put in your cell? LA’s a much bigger city than Seoul, we might not cross paths at all while we’re here.”

“Why does that matter?” You grumble. You wanted to keep things at the acquaintance level.

Jooheon shrugs. “Matters to me. But please, just indulge me for a bit. I’m stuck here for at least a week having to do work. I might not get to see anything outside of a hotel for the entire time.”

You sigh, but give up trying to pull your hand back to you. Jooheon doesn’t free you of his grasp until you’re being seated. As you stop outside the restaurant he’s chosen, you can’t help but stare up at the sign on the wall for the Mexican food eatery, grimacing. Jooheon catches the face you make as you sit across from him—and when your eyes meet as you take your seat, and you realize he’d seen you make the face, you let out another sigh.

“Did we really have to eat here? Airport food is so expensive.”

“It’s quick and convenient. Plus, I’m paying.”

“What?” You shake your head. You already owed him, you didn’t want more added on. “No, definitely not.”

“You’re indulging me, so I’ll be the one to handle the bill.” Jooheon reaches across the table, tapping the menu that had been set down in front of you by the waiter before they had disappeared. After doing so, Jooheon pulls his phone out of his pocket and busies himself with it.

You purse your lips, scanning the limited menu options. The downside to airport food, besides the price, was how little there was to choose from. That being said, it made making a final decision a lot easier and faster. When the waiter comes back around—the two of you being among the very few people sitting to eat at that time of night—you both place your order with ease.

Just as the waiter leaves, Jooheon’s phone rings. He glances at the phone face to see who’s calling, before answering in Korean. While the voice on the other end of the line speaks, you decide to pull your own phone out of your bag that you’d brought with you. Having been dragged away by Jooheon, you hadn’t had a chance to turn your phone off airplane mode. You do so, and then wait for the onslaught of messages to pour through.

“Hey,” Jooheon says from across the table. You glance up from your phone to look at him, just as your finger pushes the little slider to turn airplane mode off. “What does your luggage look like?”

For a moment, you just stare at Jooheon, confused.

“It’s Hoseok, he’s at baggage claim.”

“Oh.” The word falls from your lips slowly as his words settle into your mind, realization dawning on you. That’s right—you’d been dragged away so fast you’d also forgotten about your checked luggage that you had to pick up. “Uh, it’s a larger black suitcase. I have a yellow ribbon tied to it.”

Jooheon nods, repeating the information to Hoseok. As he does so, you overhear him follow up by telling his bodyguard-assistant that the two of you are eating, and apologizing profusely for running off. It’s clear from the tone the conversation takes that Jooheon isn’t going to be let off easy, despite being the boss. You zone out, then, instead returning your focus back to your own phone. But the screen contents are empty when you tap the screen to wake the phone from sleep, unlocking it.

The lack of any sort of notification causes you to frown. Of course, it was past nine now, so you doubted anyone here that was waiting for you to arrive actually cared about you arriving. This entire trip had been a guilt trip, and was an inconvenience for you. You were sure drama would start as soon as you arrived home. It was likely no one had even stayed up to greet you, so why would anyone bother to check and see if your flight had gone well? There had been minimal communication leading up to your departure, anyway.

Doing the math in your head, you count back, figure that it’s a little after one in the afternoon back in Korea. The fact that there was no message from Kihyun, either, was a little deterring—considering it was a weekend in the middle of the afternoon. But then you remembered he had asked you to call him when you landed. Mentally chastising yourself, you open your text messages and send him a quick text, letting him know you’ve landed and were grabbing some food, and would call him a little later.

“You okay?” Jooheon asks, now off the phone. He’d been sitting there quietly for a few moments, watching your expression turn increasingly sour.

Hearing his voice, you startle in surprise—having not even realized he’d gone silent. You fumble with your phone, locking it quickly—slightly guiltily—and pull your gaze back up to him. Not long ago, you’d been trying to get out of eating with him and slip away as fast as you possibly could. But, now you realize it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go.

“Yeah, fine,” you mumble sheepishly.

Jooheon clicks his tongue, reaching for the glass of water the waiter had set on the table when seating the two of you. “That’s a lie,” he says, before taking a drink. “But I won’t press.”

Before you can react to that, wondering how Jooheon would know such a thing was a lie, your waiter returns with your food. The way you can feel your expression instantly lighten on your face, your stomach growling in response to the delectable scent—you realize that’s how Jooheon had known you were lying. Thinking about what you were returning home too had dampened your mood enough that it was visible on your face. But the smell of the expensive, yet delicious-looking, airport food had lightened it back up.

Jooheon smiles softly, watching you, amused at how easily food motivated you seemed to be. He gives a quiet thanks to the waiter before joining you, taking a bite of the tacos that had been ordered. The two of you eat in silence, for the most part. The only questions Jooheon asks are if you like the food, just as he had done on the plane, and how long you’ll be in Los Angeles for. Neither answer illicit much of a further reaction from him, or push him to speak more—and so you finish your shared meal together quite quickly—and thankfully before things get awkward with the staff as the restaurant nears closing time.

You wait by the entrance while Jooheon finishes up paying. As he turns away from the counter, he sticks the receipt he was given in his wallet, before shoving that into the pocket of his sweatpants, walking over to meet you. You offer up a smile as he stops next to you.

“Thanks for the food.” “Thank you for eating with me,” Jooheon replies, returning your smile. He can’t help but take note of how soft, and slightly shy, the way your lips appear to be turned up on your face. It’s cute. Before much more can be said, his phone goes off in his pocket.

The sound makes you a bit jealous, and you watch as Jooheon pulls the device out and studies the name on the screen. He lets out a very long sigh before he answers the phone—and you’re almost surprised it’s in Korean, again.

“I just finished eating,” you hear Jooheon say, and you turn away as he speaks on the phone.

As you do so, you blink, catching sight of something—or rather, someone—peculiar.

“Daniel?” The name falls from your lips with confusion, but with a raised-enough voice that the owner of the name—the person walking towards you—lifts their head in answer, confirming your suspicion.

Jooheon, standing behind you, hears your voice not only against his ears—but he also hears it echo within his phone receiver, as well. Blinking in confusion, he pulls his cell phone away from his ear just enough to stare at it, surprised and confused, before turning around slowly. Jooheon looks at you, first, then lifts his gaze up to see what you’re staring at with such a surprised expression.

“Changkyun.”

You glance over your shoulder at Jooheon, hearing a name fall from his lips that isn’t a question—but rather, a statement. Seeing where Jooheon is staring, you look back.

Daniel—or Changkyun—stops dead in his tracks where he’s walking, the cell phone he’s holding to his ear frozen there. He stares, dumbfounded, looking between you and Jooheon. After a few moments, your name falls from his lips in surprise—out of breath and nostalgic, the familiarity of it hits you like a wave. And then, his next word that follows has you blanching in surprise, looking once again back over your shoulder at Jooheon.

“Uh, hi, Boss.”

Jooheon purses his lips, lowering his phone from his ear and hanging up the call. He shoves the device back into his pocket. “You’re late.”

“S-sorry, you know how LA traffic is.”

“You two know each other?” You blurt, suddenly, just as Daniel nears the two of you, slowly coming to a stop.

“I want to ask the same thing.” As he speaks, Jooheon quirks a brow at you.

“Actually,” Changkyun clears his throat. “Same.”

“This is the best friend-general manager that I was telling you about on the flight, for our LA location,” Jooheon explains, before nodding in your direction. “And she’s my favorite small-time journalist in Seoul.”

Favorite small-time journalist. The words ring in your head, and you’re suddenly propelled back to weeks ago when you had found yourself wondering if Jooheon had a hand in how well your article had been doing. You purse your lips, but decide not to say anything.

It’s Changkyun’s turn to quirk a brow, but you’re too busy turning the rest of Jooheon’s words over in your head to react. It takes a moment before your eyes suddenly widen. Your head snaps up in the direction of Daniel, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and mouth falling open. “You?! A general manager?!”

“Wow, the lack of faith in your incredulous reaction is a testament to your faith in me,” Changkyun mutters, tone dripping with sarcasm. All you do is shake your head, still in disbelief, before looking back at Jooheon.

“We went to high school together,” you reply simply. “And middle school, actually. We’ve been friends since then.”

“Speaking of, why are you back? Are you here for—” Before Changkyun can finish his sentence, you loudly cut him off.

“Oh! Look! Hoseok has the luggage!” And before waiting for either of the men next to you to react, you push past Daniel in a rush, heading towards Jooheon’s bodyguard. Changkyun blinks, surprised, meeting Jooheon’s eyes before looking over his shoulder at you. Jooheon simply shrugs, following after you a little more slowly.

“How are you getting home?” Jooheon asks as he catches back up to you, watching as Hoseok relinquishes your luggage back to your own possession.

You give Hoseok a small thanks, turning back. “I’m just going to call an Uber or Lyft.”

Jooheon frowns, before looking at Changkyun. “How close are you two?”

“Uh… close, I guess? Our families know each other, and we keep in touch, albeit inconsistently because of work.”

“Perfect. Let her borrow your car.”

In unison, you and Changkyun both blurt out, “What?”

“It’s late, and it’s safer. We can just get the Uber. This way you can just head home,” Jooheon explains, matter-of-factly. “And if you two went to school together and your families are familiar with each other, I’m sure you know where to pick your car up.”

“Hey,” you mutter, scowling at Jooheon. “That’s not really for you to decide—”

Changkyun sighs, waving you off. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. He has the right idea. You live like twenty minutes away from here, anyway.”

You frown, wanting to argue further—but you feel Jooheon’s intense gaze on you and figure it probably won’t get you very far. But to just make that decision on his own, without asking… you cut Jooheon a look of annoyance before turning your attention back to Changkyun as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket, pulling the car key off and taking the remaining keys on the ring. He hands it over to you, briefly explaining he’d left the car in the loading port after convincing the attendant outside that he’d only be a short amount of time, urging you should likely go soon so as to not result in his car being towed. You nod, thanking him and giving him a quick hug, before turning to Jooheon.

Lifting Changkyun’s car key menacingly, you glare. “Don’t you dare use this as an excuse to see me and come with him and pick the car up, got it? I appreciate your concern and I’ll accept it this time—but I’m not happy about it.”

And before he can answer, you gather your things and turn on your heel, heading away. You hear Jooheon let out an audible laugh as he watches your retreating figure. He smiles, watching you leave, and waits until you’re out of earshot before turning to Changkyun.

“High school friends, huh? What a coincidence.”

“That’s the girl you’ve been bugging me about?” Changkyun crosses his arms, frowning. “If so, I don’t think coincidence even begins to cover it.”

Jooheon tilts his head to the side, curious.

“She’s the one, right? The failed contract you mentioned?” Changkyun prompts, before letting out a bitter chuckle as Jooheon nods. He shakes his head, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Ha… I can’t even be surprised, with the divorce and all…”

“Divorce?” Jooheon echoes.

Changkyun frowns. “My statement that she dodged earlier. Why she’s back here… her parents are getting a divorce. Long time coming, honestly, and she probably got dragged back into it. There’s… a lot in that household that’s worth escaping, to be honest. Which makes sense why she sought you out.”

“If it makes so much sense, then why’d the contract fail?”

“Do you really not know?” Changkyun wonders, quirking an eyebrow as he levels his gaze with Jooheon’s.

“I’m not here to play guessing games, Changkyun,” Jooheon mutters. “It just happened to be convenient that you showed up to see who I was referring to, and coincidence that you know her and we were on the same flight. But I’ve been venting all this to you for the past few months because I’m at an utter loss as to why the contract would have failed. I’m not all-knowing, despite what people may think. Now that you’ve seen her, I’m assuming you have an answer. So, spill.”

Changkyun smirks, stepping forward to place a hand on Jooheon’s shoulder. “My Lordship… that girl is your soulmate.”

Soulmate.

Before the word even processes, Jooheon is scoffing, to which Changkyun tsks.

“You were human at one point, too. We all have one. Even you, the King of Hell,” Changkyun chastises. “I’m guessing you probably can’t see it, or you would’ve caught on much sooner—but her aura, it reads totally differently when she’s next to you in comparison to when she was walking away. It’s quite interesting to see this in person, I’ve only ever heard of it happening a few times through sources.”

Jooheon frowns, studying Changkyun’s face for any sign of a lie. Soulmate. Another person with which one had a natural affinity and deeper connection toward. The connection was often instantaneous and natural—and strong enough that one would feel themselves drawn to that other person in every single way while simultaneously bringing about a sense of peace and calm. Jooheon wanted to scoff again. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in them. He’d seen the magic at work for others. But, for himself?

And yet, so many things made sense. His anxiety eased when near you. The entire plane trip, everything had been calm. A sort of calm he’d never experienced before. Just as much as things had been calm, though, every touch had set ablaze his nerve endings. He hadn’t experienced such a nervousness in someone else’s presence in years.

What an ironic twist of fate this had to be—the universe was definitely playing games with him, now. He was well aware he’d pissed off many higher powers over the years… but to do this to him? Send him his own soulmate, on a silver platter, begging to make a contract with the Devil? Begging for release? Begging to forget?

To forget…

Jooheon blinks, realization dawning on him—the migraines you’d mentioned. He lets out an audible groan, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Of course that would be a side effect. While he had never had a contract fail in the past, unless a soul really wasn’t set on release—a broken contract could amount to many side effects, some more serious than others. In most cases, Jooheon had witnessed the failed cases simply go insane. But since your request had been so definite and simple, it made sense that it would backfire with a physical manifestation like this.

That’s why she doesn’t remember me.

“Changkyun, I need a drink,” Jooheon mutters, brushing past both him and Hoseok. The two share a look, and Changkyun stares after Jooheon in confusion, before trailing after in a hurry.

#jooheon fanfic #monsta x fanfic #mx fanfic #jooheon scenarios

18 notes · View notes

rose-lord-of-simps · 4 years

Text

AO3 fics

This is a list of AO3 fics I find and need a place to save so I can read them later! I’d save them in a file on my phone but my phone hates me and quite frankly, I don’t blame it.

Note: I also take fic finding requests! I can’t help you find specific fics but if there is a ship here you aren’t interested in or don’t ship but you want a fic for, let me know what genre you want and the ship or x reader and I’ll find it for you! Genres include fluff, romantic, spicy, angst!

Some of the descriptions are the actual descriptions from the fics, however some are just notes I made about them myself. NONE OF THESE ARE MINE AND I AM NOT TAKING CREDIT FOR THEM!

This is mostly just for me but I figured I’d post it so I can create a link for it on my page instead of going through my drafts to look for it.

Guide: ☘️ not completed 🍀 completed ❌ not read ✔️ read 🌶 spicy 🌹 romance 🌵angst 🌼 fluff

If you think an emoji on a fic should be changed, just let me know! I DID NOT PUT ANY TRIGGER WARNING IN THE DESCRIPTIONS! If I think there is something trigger or know there is I will tell you to read the tags and notes but if you read one of these with a mislabeled emojis or you think a 🌵 should be added, please let me know.

On the last day of every month I go through and update the info of if it is completed and how many chapters there are. Because of this some of the info may be wrong as you read this post.

Solangelo

A World Alone

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

10 chapters and part of a Series

🌼🌹 Nico was ready to propose - now he just needed to figure out how. He convinces Will to celebrate Hanukkah for the first time in years. The problem is, Nico doesn't know anything about Hanukkah.

The Ballad of Landon Creek

Completed ☘️ Read not all the way

22/32 updated 2021-03-05 left off on 16

🌵🌹🌼Doctor Will Solace had lived in the secluded Oregon town of Ladon Creek for a year when a mysterious stranger arrived and turned his world upside down.

PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS AND NOTES!

Kiribaku

A series of coincidental meetings

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters - left off on 3

🌼 Exactly what the title says

Coat/Jacket

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter but part of a series!

🌼 Eijirou wakes up cold, alone, and worried. What hidden truths will he find when he seeks out his boyfriend?

Axis

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter but part of a series!

🌵 Ochako recieves a letter from Bakugo she never wanted.

Not Kiribaku centered but includes Kiribaku

And your name for the order is

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 Coffee shop AU where Kirishima is the only one who enjoys taking Bakugo’s order

Tell me the truth (even if it hurts)

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters - left off on 3

🌵 little not much 🌹/🌼 Kirishima gets hit with a truth quirk but he isn’t the one telling the truth

Tell me Whatever

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 mostly, Bakugo gets hit with a quirk and it becomes impossible to be lied to, and Kirishima is so very open

Bien Cuit

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

7/10 updated on 2021-02-12 left off on 1?

🌼🌹 “It’s the best cafe in town! You gotta try it!!” Kirishima exclaimed. “What’s the worse that can happen?” Kirishima asked. Bakugou should have fucking known better than to trust that Shitty Hair for a simple coffee recommendation.

Or : Bakugou Katsuki accidentally ends up in a cafe meet-cute with Deku’s former number one ride-or-die, Uraraka Ochako, and they catch feelings.

Fireflies

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵🌹 romance and angst, soulmate AU!

Dis-ease

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

2 Chapters and part of a series left off on chapter 1

🌼Kirishima is sick and Bakugo takes care of him

I Missed You

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌼 After a long mission, Bakugou and Kirishima talk on their couch, some sweet things are said, and their friends walk in on them making out.

5 Times Bakugou Katsuki was soft for Kirishima Eijirou and the 1 Time Everyone Found Out

Completed ☘️ Read not done yet

2/6 Chapters updated on 2021-01-19 left off on 2

🌼 Sunflowers, daisies, and a discussion about bubbles.

Light it up like dynamight

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 Kirishima had a mission: to discover Bakugou’s favourite band. After all, he had a Christmas gift to buy.

Or, alternatively, in which best bros Kirishima and Bakugou go to a concert and they end the day being more than bros.

Valentine- a Kiribaku fluffshot

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌹🌼 Happy valentine's day! Well, it's not not so happy for Katsuki, who's finally decided to confess to Eijirou. Much due to Mina's pushiness, he decided to confess through cliched Valentine's chocolates. Although he's nervous and doubtful, a good deal of hope sits buried in Katsuki's chest. But what will happen when the Bakusquad hangs out on Valentine's Day and someone notices the chocolates?

We don’t have to be ordinary

Completed 🍀 Read unfinished

8/8 chapters left off on 5

🌵🌹🌼 A Footloose AU that nobody asked for, but I'm certainly providing.

Sounds a little strange for someone who’s never watched footloose- BUT IT’S SO GOOD I PROMISE!

Gotta KiriBaku Them All

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

Eijiro Kirishima is a eighteen year old rock trainer in a world full of Pokemon. His childhood best friend Denki Kaminari travels with him to different regions. One fateful day they decide to enlist in a charity tournament at Lumiose City in Kalos. Who will they meet and what challenges will they face? Follow the boys as they make new friends and battle their way through the competition!

Im unsure how to emoji label this one so please read the tags and notes!

Bakugou and his Journal

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

1/2 chapters updated 2021-02-07

🌼🌵? (Unsure how to emoji label this) Bakugou’s journal.

Shinkami

Clashing Colors

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters

🌼One month into classes at UA and shinso is being transferred into class 1-A, a small problem being that kaminari has started to have feelings for him and just to his luck, kaminari has been chosen to help shinso move into his new dorm.

(Obviously) They’re Married

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

6 chapters

🌹🌼mostly, Where Kaminari meets Shinso’s dads. But he doesn’t know who they are. Erasermic family!

5 + 1 Things : Kamishin

Completed 🍀 Read ?

1 Chapter

🌼🌵 5 times Kaminari was too loud for Shinso, 1 time he was too quite. Warning: language and brief mention of homophobia

Let me Scream

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵🌼 Mina made Hitoshi drop an extremely personal note before reading it out loud with Denki present. Denki got mad at Hitoshi for the first time. A while later, he angrily opens up and tells Hitoshi why.

Or Hitoshi and Denki have their first argument as a couple.

You Make It Feel Like Christmas

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌼Kaminari and Shinsou spend their first Christmas together. Shinsou's never really celebrated Christmas and Kaminari is determined to give him a real Christmas

Catch Me

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

5 Chapters

🌼(but read the tags!) Shinsou and Kaminari meet by chance their first year of high school and spend one whirlwind day together that changes the trajectory of their entire lives. Three years later, after maintaining a long distance friendship, they are roommates, nearly through their first year at the University of Osaka. They are forever on the edge of something beyond friendship, but never quite able to take the leap of faith for fear of tainting their memories of that one, perfect day. That is, until Kaminari gets blackout drunk in a night of frustration and Shinsou won't let it go.

Pizza n Fries

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

3/? Chapters updated 2021-03-10 left off on 2

🌼 So here Kaminari sits, the most popular boy in school, alone, idly poking at his school lunch,, pizza. How the school managed to screw up pizza was beyond him, but at the same time he was once given a single slice of soggy bread for lunch. Just as he was about to get up to throw his plate in the trash, it's entire existence disgusted him, a deep voice sounded in, "school lunches am I right?"

We’ll Hold You When the Sky Falls Down

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌹🌼This is a Kaminari x Jirou x Shinsou fic! Soulmate AU where you can write on your arm and it appears on your partner’s arm!

Denki Who is Not His Boyfriend

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌶(a little bit) PLEASE READ THE RAGS OF THIS ONE AND THE NOTES

Kaminari Denki’s Very Strange Day

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 All hail Denki Kaminari, newly initiated drinker of respect women juice, matchmaker extraordinaire. Alternately, Shinsou Hitoshi simultaneously has the worst and best day of his life.

Tododeku

How did I not Know?

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵 Aizawa is concerned when Todoroki starts to fall behind in class but dismissed it as the boy needing a break and that he would be fine when he came back to the dorms after a weekend of being at home. He never would've thought how wrong he was and how one weekend would reveal a lifetime of secrets about the Todoroki household. Though he just wished that the two teens would have been spared from the crossfire that is Endeavor.

Not Tododeku centric but they’re together

The Prince and the Painter

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

1/? Chapters updated 2021-01-30

🌵🌹🌼 Prince Shoto Todoroki is next in line for the Alterian throne. His father rules the Kingdom with an iron fist, giving Shoto no choice but to obey his every order. He is overworked, depressed, and utterly miserable. That is until he meets Izuku Midoriya, an avant-garde painter who starts to bring the color back into his dull life. But what happens when they start to fall in love with each other? Shoto is a Prince, and Izuku is just a painter, surely this cannot end well!

(Basically a royal AU! Lots of angst, family drama, and of course fluffy love. Enjoy!)

Of Flowers and Tattoos

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter and part of a series!

Shouto owns a tattoo parlor. Izuku owns a flower shop. Love (unsurprisingly) happens.

Property Of Prince Shotou Todoroki

Completed 🍀 Read not finished

9 chapters left off on 4

🌵🌹🌶little bit of Bakugou x Midoriya, prince Todoroki x peasant Deku AU! PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND NOTES!

Lady in Red

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 Izuku’s mother refuses to tell him who her Valentine’s date is. Tododeku isn’t the main ship but it’s still included so it’s going here.

Something That I Want

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼🌵(lightly) TANGLED AU ITS SO GOOD OH MY GOSH-

The Cupid Quirk

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

23/23 chapters updated 2021-04-08

🌹🌼 During an attack at school, Midoriya gets hit by a quirk that leaves him infatuated with the first person he sees, which just so happens to be Todoroki Shouto. Due to an unfortunate side effect of the quirk, Midoriya breaks out into a horrible fever whenever they’re separated for too long, so Todoroki accepts the responsibility of caring for him until the quirk wears off. Problem is, Todoroki sort of, kind of, maybe likes Midoriya as more than just a friend, which makes the whole situation just a little awkward for him.

THIS IS AN AMAZING FIC AND I LOVE IT. You’re not gonna regret this read.

Erasermic

So They Follow in Our Footsteps

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

1/2 chapters 2021-01-22 part of a series!

🌵🌼 Eventually, Aizawa thinks, he’s going to figure Shinsou out. He’s gonna figure out what it means to tote around a kid through the zombie apocalypse like a Chanel bag, and what it means to get truly, murderously pissed when they’re threatened.

Zombie apocalypse AU! So- Apocolypse AU’s aren’t my thing so I don’t know why I have this one saved and I’m probably not going to read it, however I found a link for it on tumblr in the Erasermic tag so that’s where it’s going! ALSO READ THE NOTES OF THE CHAPTER!

Miritama

Glowing

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter and part of a series

🌼 Kirishima asks Tamaki about Mirio.

Of Octopus Balls and Contract Flaws

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌼 Tamaki really had to be careful about what he said out loud sometimes, or else a simple frustrated phrase such as "I would sell my soul for some decent takoyaki" could easily be taking out of context.

Purple Haze

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter and part of a series!

🌹🌼Tamaki wants to know Mirio’s colour. “What’s your color? I wanna know, I wanna know.”

Burst of Sunlight

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌹🌼🌵(possibly) In the aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai raid, Tamaki looks after Mirio. One-shot. Soft Miritama

Summertime:Miritama

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌼 Amajiki Tamaki had always preferred the winter, until Mirio came along. Tamaki tells the story of him and Mirio by following their memories through the course of many summers.

Grossly Incandescent

Complete 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

Mirio thinks, perhaps, his journey to find his own sun has found just the right path. Tamaki just do what he's supposed to and ring the bell. Their paths may just merge into one. OR Mirio knows incandescence when he sees it, but it's a bit harder to prove that to Tamaki if he's just going to hide under his hood all day!

Star Spots

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌹🌼 mirio looks so sad, beneath the surface, and tamaki wants to say something, but doesn't know what's best for his best friend. what do you do, what do you say, when your best friend lost something so important to them? or, a series of scenes where tamaki and mirio spend their time in each others company, make confessions, and make it through to the other side.

Moments of Peace

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter and part of a series

🌹🌼Mirio wakes up way too early, and he takes a moment to appreciate the love of his life

The “Almost” Perfect Nest

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼Omega Tamaki likes to take comfort in the nests he creates to have Mirio's alpha scent around. He finds blankets and clothes that smell likes Mirio and throws them all into one big pile. So what happens the day he can't find a specific hoodie that belongs to Mirio? He loses it.

Love Confessions are Hard for Idiots

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼Mirio wants to confess.

Todoroki x Kaminari

Denki’s Life Essentials:Memes, food, and Shouto

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

Denki tries to explain what memes are to Shouto and accidentally falls in love.

Hawks x Reader

Amans Avaritia

Completed ☘️ Read not all the way

3/? Chapters updated on 2021-01-05 left off on chapter 3

🌵🌹When the Prince of the feathered-folk Kingdom, Hawks, threatens to declare war on your kingdom, you’re forced to make the worst and best decision of your life.

Let’s Chase the Sun

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

19/? Updated on 2021-02-22

(I unsure what emojis to use) Your whole life you had been sheltered away from the real world, but you weren’t exactly alone in that aspect. You just had less freedom than him. Now, however, you would take him as a chance to live life the way you wanted to. Who cares about the consequences after all? Life isn’t easy, though, and that’s something you’ll have to learn, even with a capable hero at your side. Because to be honest, being with him is the biggest problem of all.

Im unsure what emojis to use so PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS and the NOTES in the first chapter!

Writers

Born Dead

MHA ship writer, mostly Kiribaku I believe

Multi-Ship

Totally Definetly Legit Leaked BNHA Valentine’s Day Light Novel Spoilers

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 I honestly have no idea how to describe this, some Momo x Todoroki, and Kiribaku

If you don’t take this friendship, I will shove it up your ass

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

3/? Chapters updated 2021-01-31 left off on 2

🌼crack fic, no one ship specific, super funny!

The Todoroki In-Laws

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

13/13 COMPLETED and part of a series!

🌼crack fic Over 10 years after the fight against the Paranormal Liberation Front, Rumi, aka the part-time hero Miruko and the proud wife of one Todoroki Fuyumi, decides it would be an awesome idea to create a groupchat with the significant others of the other Todoroki siblings. Maybe things would be easier if its members weren’t two Pro Heroes, a former one and a rehabilitated villain, but… Honestly, where’s the fun in that?

Part 2 coming soon... there’s more...

36 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 8 months

Text

Sprout | knj | one

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au, non!idol au → strangers to enemies (mostly one sided) to friends to lovers

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: mature

Word count: 3.7K

Warnings: Reader is morally grey; she’s being petty and bratty. There’s some immature pranks and vandalism. Yeah, she’s on a warpath. Otherwise this chapter is pretty tame 😛

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Author’s note(1): this ended up being a mini series! After I wrote Friendcation I really wanted to write something shorter… So here it is! I really hope you like it 💜

Taglist: @svnbangtansworld

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there 🙂

Your heart thrives in the lush embrace of your garden, where your love for nurturing life transcends the ordinary.

It's not merely about gardening; it's an intimate rendezvous with nature's heartbeat. The simple act of plunging your hands into the soil becomes a euphoric ritual, a tactile communion that not only exhilarates your senses but also serves as a conduit to a world where each seed, leaf, and root tells a captivating story of growth and vitality.

The intimate dance with the earth, the sheer joy that courses through you as you feel the soil's gritty embrace, transcends mere gardening; it's a symphony of life, a celebration of your role as both creator and nurturer.

Cultivating new life from the humble seed is a profound joy that resonates deeply within you. The enchantment unfolds as you witness the delicate emergence of sprouts, each one a testament to the potential contained within a tiny seed.

It's a captivating journey, from the tentative first leaves unfurling to the triumphant bloom of fruits and vegetables, a tangible manifestation of the joy and sustenance your hands have meticulously cultivated for both you and your roommate to savor.

As the radiant embrace of summer envelops your world, an effusion of life bursts forth, a vibrant bloom unfurling its tendrils both in your garden and within the sanctuary of your greenhouse.

The greenhouse burgeons with a dazzling array of life—a cornucopia of tomatoes, watermelons, peppers, and cucumbers that stretches every inch of its confines. The air is thick with the heady scent of ripening fruit, and the vibrant hues of red, green, and orange create a kaleidoscopic mosaic that beckons exploration.

In your garden, three majestic raised beds stand like regal sentinels, cradling a treasure trove of nature's bounty. Within their elevated embrace, a symphony of flavors and colors converges, boasting a diverse ensemble that includes the earthy allure of onions, the crisp sweetness of carrots, the robust presence of pumpkins, the delicate charm of strawberries, the verdant allure of spinach, and an array of captivating salads.

Each bed is a symphony of flavors and textures, a carefully orchestrated composition that invites both the eye and the palate to revel in the diverse tapestry of life thriving under your attentive care.

Your garden isn't just a source of pride; it's a living masterpiece, a testament to your dedication and nurturing touch. This verdant haven, bathed in the hues of your hard work, transcends mere admiration; it's your sanctuary, a sacred retreat where the stresses of the world dissolve.

Each leaf, every bloom, whispers tales of resilience and growth, creating an intimate haven where you find solace and restoration.

In the embrace of nature's symphony, your garden becomes more than soil and seeds—it's a living, breathing refuge, a space where you not only cultivate plants but also cultivate peace and tranquility for your soul to flourish.

Within the heart of your greenhouse, nestled amidst the thriving foliage, is a cozy sanctuary—an inviting lounge set with a round table and two chairs. This intimate corner is not just a seating arrangement; it's a haven where friendship blossoms. Here, you and your friends can unwind, enveloped by the lush greenery, engaging in heartfelt conversations over steaming cups of tea or coffee.

In the heart of your greenhouse, you stand amidst the verdant symphony, hands adorned with the earth's rich embrace—fertile soil clinging to your fingertips, a testament to the alchemy of growth you orchestrate. Here, amidst the fragrant dance of botanical life, you sow the promise of winter greenery. This isn't your inaugural venture into nurturing winter blooms; it's a sequel to a tale that unfolded with delight last year.

The memory of vibrant winter greens thriving under your care lingers, a testament to the harmony you crafted within these walls. Driven by the echo of past success and an insatiable love for the seasonal metamorphosis, you embark on this green journey once more.

Within the expansive embrace of your bountiful garden, nature's generosity unfolds, providing an abundant harvest of fruits and vegetables that not only sustains you and your roommate but also extends its benevolent reach to your cherished neighbors.

Which makes you think of the dear Kims—Kim Seokjin and his wife—embarking on a journey to a larger home, carving out space for their expanding family, tugs at the strings of your heart. While you understand the practicality of their move, a somber melancholy settles within you, for they have not just been neighbors; they have been the epitome of kindness and warmth.

With an earnest yearning, you cling to the hope that your incoming neighbor will show kindness, sweetness, and warmth akin to the cherished friendship you shared with the departing Kims.

He doesn’t.

The day has arrived when your neighbor, Seokjin, faces the bittersweet necessity of moving. The street is lined with colossal trucks, a tangible representation of the imminent change. As tears trace their silent path down your cheeks, you refuse to let the sorrow eclipse the spirit of friendship.

Despite the weight of emotions, you join forces with Jungkook, your steadfast roommate, to transform the process into a collective effort. Together, you navigate the labyrinth of memories, carrying not just boxes but the shared history of laughter, shared moments, and the neighborly bonds that have woven through the fabric of your days.

As the reality of parting sets in, the ache of missing Seokjin and his pregnant wife becomes a weight on your heart. Determined to express the depth of your sentiment, you envelop them in tight, lingering hugs, the warmth of your embrace carrying unspoken words of friendship and well-wishes. Amidst the bittersweet farewells, you articulate your genuine hopes for their future, weaving a promise of staying connected. With each heartfelt word, you convey that the physical distance won't sever the ties of friendship.

In a world where genuine connections with neighbors are as rare as finding hidden gems, you've recognized the preciousness of Seokjin and his wife. Their sweetness and kindness have forged a bond that transcends the typical neighborly exchanges. Their generosity extends beyond mere pleasantries—during a challenging chapter in your life, when the looming shadows of unemployment threatened your stability, it was their unwavering support that illuminated your path.

Together, you navigated the uncertainty, and Seokjin suggested his friend Jungkook as a roommate to help you financially, and Jungkook has since become an integral part of your life as a steadfast and cherished roommate.

Undoubtedly, the Kims have not just been neighbors but pillars of unwavering support and kindness, surpassing any expectations one might have for ideal neighbors.

In the wake of the Kims' departure, their once-vibrant house now stands silent, a poignant reminder of the cherished moments shared. However, your curiosity, like an invisible magnet, draws you to the window. From your vantage point, you observe with a mix of intrigue and anticipation as a moving truck sidles up next to their now-empty abode. You almost feel like a creep as you watch them unload furniture and boxes.

Whispers in the neighborhood had reached your ears—an intriguing coincidence as a man, bearing the surname 'Kim,' was poised to become your new neighbor. The town's gossip mill hummed with speculation, but you tuned out the rest, your focus fixated on the serendipitous arrival of this mysterious Kim.

Jungkook ambles over, his sudden presence jolting you against the window, prompting an involuntary jump. With a teasing grin, he questions your clandestine observation, his laughter echoing through the room. “Why are you lurking?” he jests, enjoying the playful spectacle of your eye roll in response.

“I’m observing.” You declare with matter-of-fact precision, and in response, Jungkook simply offers a contemplative ‘hm.’

Throughout the day, the elusive presence of the new neighbor has been a captivating enigma, a puzzle you've been diligently attempting to unravel. Despite your earnest efforts, the quest for a mere glimpse has proven elusive.

“I'm just curious to get a read on the new guy,” you confess, drawing out your words with a touch of playful mystery. As you gracefully step away from the window, the allure of the unknown lingering in the air, you head into the kitchen with purpose.

You fetch the kettle and begin to boil some water for tea.

“Just give the guy some space to settle in, and when the time is right, you can whip up those mouthwatering cookies of yours and give him a warm welcome to the neighborhood,” Jungkook suggests, trailing after you into the kitchen. He deftly retrieves two mugs from the overhead cabinets, placing them in anticipation of the soon-to-be-boiling kettle.

Rummaging through the tea stash, you unearth aromatic sachets—one for yourself and another for Jungkook—and delicately place them into the waiting mugs. As the kettle sings its final crescendo, you pour the steaming water into the mugs, initiating the alchemical process that transforms the humble leaves into an elixir of warmth.

The synchronicity between you and Jungkook is seamless, a finely tuned rhythm born out of the years you've spent living together. Perhaps it's the invisible thread of familiarity that binds you, a connection so deep that you can effortlessly complete each other's sentences, the unspoken language of friendship. He’s much more than a roommate; you love him like a brother, an annoying little brother, even though you’re the same age.

“Good idea! The legendary triple chocolate cookies?” you propose, your eyes lighting up with the prospect of sweet indulgence. Holding your tea mug, you savor the warmth of the liquid against your lips, a comforting ritual that transcends seasons—you're an unapologetic tea enthusiast, even in the heat of summer.

“Absolutely! Hell yeah!” Jungkook exclaims, his enthusiasm echoing through the room like a burst of unbridled joy. As he eagerly recalls the memory of the last batch you made, his words become a vivid homage to the culinary masterpiece, the taste still lingering on his tongue like a cherished melody.

Throughout the entire weekend, the symphony of your new neighbor's move has reverberated, a lively crescendo of sound that paints the air with the vibrant hues of laughter and camaraderie. His entourage of friends, a boisterous ensemble, fills the atmosphere with the clatter of unloading boxes and the rhythmic shuffle of furniture being transported from the truck.

Yet, despite the lively spectacle of your new neighbor's move, his actual presence remains an elusive mystery. The air is thick with anticipation as questions swirl within your mind: Is he old? Is he your age? Does he possess the warmth and kindness that endeared Seokjin and his wife to your heart? Your curiosity becomes a cascade of inquiries, a mental carousel that you acknowledge is just you being noisy.

Up to this point, the sole revelation about your new neighbor is his knack for creating quite the noise. The symphony of sounds, though vibrant in its own way, becomes a stark contrast to the familiar warmth and silence that once emanated from Seokjin and his wife's abode.

Damn you miss Seokjin and his wife.

While the awareness of ongoing move-in activities tempers your expectations for noise, an unexplainable discomfort begins to settle in. The amalgamation of unfamiliar sounds, even in the midst of anticipated relocation clamor, manages to irk you.

And you haven’t even met the guy yet.

Several days have elapsed, it appeared that your new neighbor had completed the arduous task of settling in. A glimmer of hope fluttered, suggesting that the relentless clamor would finally recede. Yet, to your dismay, a new auditory storm emerged—his penchant for playing music at an astonishing volume became the unforeseen soundtrack to your days.

“I already hate him, Guk,” you declare with a melodramatic sulk, dramatically flopping down onto the couch beside Jungkook.

He swivels his head in your direction, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before erupting into a hearty laugh. “Come on, it’s just music. How bad can it get?”

After a patient wait, the oven radiates a palpable heat, reaching the optimal temperature to host the transformation of dough into decadence. With a sense of anticipation, you carefully place the trays laden with the promise of triple chocolate cookies into the fiery embrace of the oven.

Despite the less-than-ideal introduction to your new neighbor, marred by his thunderous music and a symphony of questionable sounds that you'd rather not contemplate—, there's a resolute yearning within you to extend an olive branch.

Fueled by the desire for neighborly harmony, you're determined to overcome the initial discord and approach him with a peace offering, a genuine gesture to welcome him into the neighborhood, hoping to mend the dissonant notes that currently define your thoughts about him.

Just as the first tray of cookies begins its enchanting transformation in the oven, your ‘girl boss’ playlist providing a lively backdrop, the symphony is abruptly punctuated by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass echoing from outside.

A sudden chill races down your spine, the shivers intensified by the ominous realization that the shattering sound emanates from the vicinity of your garden. Locking eyes with Jungkook, a silent exchange of concern, you swiftly transition from baking bliss to a sprinting guardian of your sanctuary.

The urgency in your steps amplifies the suspense, as you dash outside, propelled by a blend of curiosity and trepidation, determined to unveil the source of the disruptive crash that disrupted the tranquil rhythm of your day.

Shards of glass glisten like misplaced stars in the grass, guiding your gaze to a seemingly innocent purple ball. However, your eyes transform into metaphorical daggers as they lock onto the source of the havoc, revealing a telltale hole in the once-pristine surface of your beloved greenhouse.

A surge of anger courses through your veins, a visceral reaction to the shattered tranquility mirrored in the glass strewn across the grass. While distant voices from your neighbor try to penetrate your consciousness, your focus remains ensnared by the chaos within the greenhouse—the fractured plants and the disarrayed remnants of what was once a sanctuary.

Navigating the shards with cautious steps, you venture into the greenhouse, the air heavy with a sense of apprehension and loss. As you survey the wreckage, the toll becomes painfully clear—fragments of tomatoes, cucumbers, and watermelons lay strewn, their promise of abundance now reduced to a heartbreaking scene of destruction.

An inferno of rage surges through your veins, akin to liquid fire or molten lava, an elemental force consuming reason and calm. The greenhouse, once a sanctuary, now stands as a testament to the havoc wrought—its structural integrity compromised, and the once-vibrant plants broken and battered.

Your gaze fixes on the offending purple ball, and in a sudden revelation, the realization lands like a forceful blow—it's a sinister gift from your new neighbor. A surge of fury engulfs you, a tempest that ignites within, transforming your blood into a boiling cauldron of rage until the world before your eyes is tainted with a visceral shade of red.

Driven by an uncontrollable wave of anger, you storm outside, seizing the ominous purple ball with a fierce determination. Each step to your new neighbor is punctuated by the rhythmic thud of your stampede, a declaration of intent that resonates with your frustration.

Amidst the clash of emotions, a figure emerges—a man with disheveled silver hair hurtling toward you, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, a young child at his side.

The ball gripped tightly in your hand becomes both a weapon and a question mark as you confront the silver-haired man. The fury in your voice is palpable, a tempest churning within each word as you demand answers. “What is this?” you seethe, elevating the purple sphere as a visual indictment, challenging him to reckon with the consequences of his actions.

“A ball?” he responds with a nervous chuckle, his hand seeking solace through the disheveled landscape of silver hair at the back of his head. Beside him, a little boy, no older than six, clings to his leg with a grip that speaks of both innocence and trepidation.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” you begin, the words laden with a potent mix of frustration and mounting anger. The simmering emotions rise like a tide within you, unleashing a renewed flood of resentment that threatens to engulf your entire being.

“I'm so sorry about the ball. We didn't mean to throw it over the fence—” the man starts to apologize, but your tolerance for explanations dwindles to nothing. You cut him off with an air of absolute dismissal, leaving no room for excuses or justifications.

“You shattered my greenhouse!” you roar in frustration, the anger propelling the ball from your hand towards him. In a deft move, he catches it effortlessly against his chest, the tension in the air palpable.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mea—” he begins, but you cut through his attempt to explain with a dismissive wave.

“I don't care! You should be mindful of other people's property. I had plants in there that are now broken and useless,” you declare, your voice stern and scolding. The words emerge like a verbal reprimand, each syllable charged with the weight of your anger. As you speak, the intensity manifests physically, your breaths becoming huffs of air, mirroring the turbulent emotions that still churn within you.

You observe the man's persistent attempts at apology, and the child clings even tighter to his sturdy thigh, as if seeking refuge in the face of the storm brewing in front of him.

“Fuck you. Don't let it happen again,” you spit, the words laden with an unrelenting edge. You observe him swiftly cover the child's ears, shielding innocence from the raw exchange. Just as you pivot to leave, a tense silence lingering, he finds his voice once more.

Observing him withdraw his hands from the child's ears, he takes a measured step in your direction. “Look, lady,” he begins, his tone a blend of frustration and assertion, “I already apologized. There's no reason to be so crude, especially not in front of a kid.”

Your gaze swiftly traverses them from head to toe, a brusque assessment. “Like I give a shit,” you retort with a dismissive snort.

“Joon, why is the lady mad?” inquires the boy, casting a curious glance at your neighbor.

“Well, we ruined her greenhouse, which we've already apologized for. Now I'm starting to think she's just stuck up and has a stick up her ass,” your neighbor explains in a composed tone to the child, who simply gapes at the blunt choice of words.

The audacity of his words hits you like an unexpected blow. Stuck up? The incredulity courses through you as you grapple with the absurdity of the accusation. Him, the one who shattered your pride and joy, casting you as the haughty one?

“Well, fuck you!” you scream in frustration, punctuating the sentiment with a defiant middle finger. With a final act of rebellion, you storm away, retreating back into your house, your fury a palpable force propelling your every step.

Gasping for breath, you stumble inside, a disheveled embodiment of raw emotion. Jungkook gazes at you, confusion etched on his face as he questions, “What happened?”

In a huff, you explain, “Piece of shit neighbor broke my greenhouse,” the words tumble out, each syllable a testament to the frustration gripping you. With a perfunctory motion, you snatch the tray from Jungkook, who had kindly retrieved it from the oven when the cookies were ready.

Now, the sweet aroma of accomplishment is tainted, and the once-desired treats feel like a bitter offering. You contemplate discarding them, convinced your neighbor doesn't deserve the indulgence born from your hard work and nurturing care.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook queries with genuine concern, his worry palpable in the furrow of his brows and the earnest tone of his voice. Clutching the tray, you navigate towards the trash can, your actions leaving an air of uncertainty hanging between you two.

“Throwing them out?” you retort, the words a sharp echo in the air as you lock eyes with Jungkook.

“Don't! I'll eat them,” Jungkook pleads, motioning for you to spare the tray from its impending fate in the trash.

A flicker of reluctance dances in your eyes, but the prospect of salvaging the cookies prevails. After all, it would be a shame to let them go to waste merely because your neighbor is a piece of shit

Despite Jungkook's plea for you to set aside your fury and accept the apology from your new neighbor, the ember of resentment within you refuses to be extinguished.

For reasons unknown, a bitter taste lingers within you, refusing to let go. The turmoil is inexplicable, but the remnants of resentment persist. He didn't just break your greenhouse; he shattered a piece of your sanctuary. Now, held together with a temporary tapestry of plastic, the wounded structure serves as a constant reminder, a tangible testament to the disruption that's not easily brushed aside.

Not to mention the plants that withered away that fateful day. Yes, they perished under the weight of the intrusion, and no, you refuse to consider it as mere drama, as Jungkook suggested.

Anger bubbles within you, a volatile force demanding retribution. In the crucible of resentment, a calculated decision takes root: to do the only thing that feels just—sabotage some of his. An eye for an eye, the ancient adage whispers in your mind.

Thus, you find yourself meticulously gluing his mailbox together, rendering it an inoperable shell that denies him the simple act of receiving mail or opening the damn thing!

A sense of self-satisfaction courses through you as you observe him from the vantage point of your living room window, wrestling with his unyielding mailbox, frustration etched across his face.

A laugh of vindication escapes your lips as you revel in his futile struggle. His bewildered gaze sweeps the surroundings, a clear sign that he fails to comprehend what's wrong with his once-functional mailbox. Frustration etches lines on his face before he concedes, retreating back into the confines of his home.

Jungkook sidles up next to you, a quizzical expression on his face. “Is that your handiwork?” he inquires, pointing towards your neighbor's now dysfunctional mailbox.

A chuckle escapes your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You're being childish and mean,” he reproaches, shaking his head in disapproval of your actions. A chuckle escapes him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I bet you like him,” he remarks with a knowing smile, strolling past you.

You gape at him, disbelief etched across your face. No. No such thing. “I fucking hate him, and he deserves it,” you retort vehemently, the raw intensity in your voice emphasizing the depth of your disdain.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 4 years

Text

Sunsets

“Redemption, my Love” Chapter 7 is not up yet.... My apologies. Enjoy this oneshot instead! Cursed Tv 2020 Cross posted to Ao3 here Lancewain Rated T for suggestive themes. FLUFF, so much Fluff and Flirting Modern College AU: Roommates ) my deepest apologies to anyone who read this pre proof read. I have edited it now. :) )

Lancelot and Gawain have been roommates for almost four years. The problem is they both like one another and neither is able to admit it. Until one night, one very domestic night, the teasing and flirting comes to a head, and all because Lancelot took a nap in an unlikely location. @lorenzoxfrancesco I hope this tides you over for a bit friend. :) Enjoy. Inspired by this post.

Gawain came home to the small apartment he shared with Lancelot. They had met in the first week of classes their freshman year and had shared several of their general courses since then, until this semester. For the last three years they have shared their living space, study habits, eating habits, and everyday life. They had cohabited the same space, with minimal disturbances despite being strangers when they moved in together. Certainly, they fought on occasion but it was never about anything to major, well except that one time, but they had sorted it rather quickly. Neither truly capable of staying angry at the other. It had been over a boy. More specifically about the lack of notice regarding a boy coming home with Gawain on game night, for purposes other than games.

Today Gawain is running a little bit later than normal. It isn’t a big deal, it is Lancelot’s night to cook, so if the man was hungry he would have cooked and left him some. Besides, not only had his last class gone long, but he had decided to pick up some of the groceries he knew they needed. Unlocking the door he steps into warm air and a dimly lit room. Toeing off his shoes he pads into the common space towards the kitchen, casually avoiding Lancelots work space and easel. The kitchen is empty, and the space does not smell of food. Lancelot had not cooked then. A quick glance at the stove clock tells him that it isn’t actually nearly as late as he believed it was. The winter weather was throwing off his internal clock again. It was just past sundown, and it felt much later than half past four in the evening. Setting the groceries on the counter he acknowledged none of them were perishable and could wait to be put away.

The absence of Lancelot is acute and he decides to check his room. It is unusual, especially on his night to cook, for him to be absent. He leaves the small kitchen and heads down the hall towards the rooms, and notes that his door is slightly ajar. He can’t remember if he left it that way or not, but it doesn’t particularly matter, if Lancelot had needed something he would have had the freedom to retrieve it. It was something that they had spoken about when they created their boundaries initially and adjusted them as they grew in their relationship. He ignores it and walks to the end of the hall and knocks gently on Lancelot's door. When he gets no answer he cautiously opens it, to find an empty room. Shrugging he returns to the kitchen and begins to put away the groceries from before. Then he will shower and make something for himself. It’s possible too, that Lancelot went out for ingredients or some such necessity.

When he opens his door what he sees causes him to stop short. The streetlight is casting the faintest orange glow through his window and onto his bed. And there, curled on his side is Lance in the fetal position, wearing his oversized sweater and purple skull covered socks, peacefully asleep. He smiles, it is the most adorable thing he has seen in a very long time. Lancelot's hair is down and unkept sprawling across his face and onto the blankets beneath him. Slowly he steps into the dark room, careful not to disturb his roommate. Hypercautiously he sits on the edge of the bed and thoughtfully brushes stray hair from Lancelot's face. He looks undisturbed and calm like this. Mouth slightly agape as he breathes in and out in a steady rhythm. The worry lines that come with final exams erased from his features under the sweet caress of sleep. His muscles relaxed and pliant as he shifts subtly closer to Gawain’s ghosting touch. He doesn’t know how long he sits there watching Lancelot, but he knows it is far longer than a friend perhaps should. Of course that comes as no surprise to him. He wishes they were more than friends, but neither had asked, and perhaps it was safer to remain in this domestic life they had than to fall into something labeled and full of expectations and preconceived notions.

Finally, he rises and moves towards his dresser for a change of clothing, he has no idea how much time has gone by, only that he still needs to shower and eat something before he makes another decision. Casting a final gaze on his sleeping friend he leaves the room, door slightly ajar and showers. He loses track of time again and finds himself dwelling on what it would be like to have Lance in his bed regularly. To be able to view him in such peace anytime he wanted, and not just through a snatched moment, that the other is unaware of. When he finally leaves the bathroom dressed in a pair of surprisingly comfortable leggings, (He had thought they would be and he was correct) he scrubs at his head hair with a towel and drapes it around his shoulders to catch any remnants of dripping water. Stepping into the hall he shivers a touch, Lancelot likes to keep the apartment a touch on the chilly side, which isn’t an issue at all, except for right after he gets out of a near scalding hot shower.

The hall light is on, and it hadn’t been, which means Lancelot must be awake now. He is determined not to say anything. There isn’t a point in bringing it up is there? Lancelot would likely just get embarrassed and go hide in his room, or in the shadowy depths of his comfy clothes, and impossibly large hood. He heads in the direction of the kitchen regardless, he hasn’t spoken to Lancelot in ages, or at least it feels like and whatever it is he has decided to cook tonight smells delicious. Garlic bread, his brain supplies, which means spaghetti. Simple, easy, a good “sorry I fell asleep and now I'm panicking to make something because I bet you're starving and it was my day to cook” food. Not that Gawain would have minded taking it on. Lancelot had been busy this week, finishing multiple art projects, writing a speech on his favorite era of art history, and studying for his theology exam. Infact, he was half tempted to tell the man to go lay back down and let him take over, but he would need a shirt for that and he was already in the dining room.

“Spaghetti with your homemade Garlic butter?” He asks innocently. Lancelot glances up at him, the barest flick of his eyes and then back at what he is doing, preparing meatballs. And there it is. Lancelot looks back up, meets his eyes and then casually takes in the entire sight of him. Face flushing just a bit, but it could be the steam from the noodle water. He watches the bob of his throat as he swallows. He assumes the other is attempting to formulate a thought but short circuiting, so he takes the moment to study bare arms and a pale throat, and the way messy black curls cling to the side of his face, cascading loose from a hastily thrown up bun. Lancelot has ditched his sweatshirt to cook and is wearing only a tank top, the tattoo consisting of swirls and runes he doesn’t understand standing out brilliantly on his shoulder and cascading to his elbow. It wasn’t often he got to see this. It was a work of art, part of Lancelot's heritage and closely guarded. It was nearly impossible to look away as his eyes followed each swoop and dive, broad stroke and fine line as they moved in turn with the muscles beneath.

"Those are not basketball shorts." Grits out his roommate, eyes still staring below his navel. He has dropped the meatball he was making and turned slightly to take Gawain in better. Grinning he laughs,

“They certainly are not. Thought I would change it up tonight. Korin said they were comfortable so I thought ‘what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.’” Lancelot finally looks up at him and licks his lip.

“ Are they?” Oh, he sounds like he’s choking on air. Lancelot towels his hands and takes a long drink from his water bottle.

“So far, Yes. Do you want help?”

“With?” Lancelot looks lost in the kitchen, which is really unfortunate it is one of his areas of magnificents. He watches as he casts his eyes anywhere but at Gawain.

“The balls.”

“The - Uh, no I uh, I’m good. Thanks.” The paler man says swallowing and pointedly starting the blender to puree the tomatoes into a sauce, cheeks unmistakably flushed now. When the noise ceases he watches as the liquid is poured into a saucepan and a mixture of spices is added along with roasted garlic and sautéed onion, stirred aggressively and left to heat. He chuckles when Lancelot stills as he walks to the fridge and grabs the carton of milk. Leaning against the counter he watches as Lance finishes preparing the meatballs and lets his eyes linger as he bends to put them in the oven. Then at his hands as he strains the noodles. He takes a long draw of milk straight from the carton and Lancelot turns to him, raises an eyebrow as they make eye contact and abruptly turns away instead of chewing him out like normal. Smirking to himself he wonders how far he can push Lancleot tonight without giving him a heart attack. He knows the attraction is mutual, unspoken but unmistakable.

“Did you have a good nap.” The knife comes to a halt against the cutting board. Lancelot grips the carrot hard enough to turn his knuckles white and pointedly stirs the sauce with his other hand before picking up the knife and turning the rest of the carrot into bits for the salad.

“Yes.” The mumble is almost lost among the clicking of the knife against the board. Gawain reaches for a slice of the now cooled Garlic bread, from his spot out of the way, and receives a well aimed smack to the knuckles with the flat of the blade. He locks eyes with Lancelot who is glaring.

“Do not ruin your appetite.” Lancelot hisses, eyes fierce.

“I don’t think that's possible where you're involved.” He sets the milk down and steps into Lancelot's space, and picks up the piece of bread he had intended to steal. Neither of them move.

“How come you napped in my room. I don’t mind. Not even a little, but I am curious.” He takes a bite of the bread and loses his train of thought, “oh god, can Lancelot cook” he had made the bread earlier in the week. Lancelot looks away from him and that stings a little but mostly it’s cute, the way the pink has not receded at all but is progressively turning redder and spreading to his ears and onto his neck. They are close enough to touch if Lance took a step forward. Instead he takes two steps back and Gawain reciprocates, taking another long gulp of milk from the jug as Lancelot checks the meatballs. The oven is set to broil so they shouldn’t take much longer. He can almost see the cogs turning as he carries the salad and plate of warm bread to the table. Then the Pasta, still in the pot with a large fork, and the sauce in its pan with a ladle.

“I was watching the sunset. I can’t see it from my room.” Lancelot finally answers as he retrieves the meatballs from the oven and places them in a bowl to be taken to the table. Gawain stares at him for a moment,

“And you were comfortable enough to fall asleep?”

“Mmm... I got lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking?” Lancelot eyes him a moment then walks over and leans into his space, opening the cupboard to his right and removing two plates.

“Many things. Be a dear and bring the salad dressing and Parmesan cheese.” He watches as Lancelot turns and all but saunters to the dining table with the bowl of meatballs, two plates and their silverware. Blinking he kicks himself for standing there dumbly while Lancelot waits at the table. He puts the milk away and does as he was asked. When he finally joins him at the table he folds the towel over the back of the chair and they eat in silence, but god’s he’s going to die if he keeps catching the dark haired man looking at him like that.

“What are you thinking now?” He manages around a bite of pasta.

“That I felt safe.”

“I don’t think I am following Lance.” Setting his fork down he makes purposeful eye contact. Seriousness seeping into what had been a very flirtatious evening.

“I feel asleep in your bed, because I felt safe.” Lancelot looks away from him, and takes a drink of his water. He hadn’t expected that. What is he supposed to say? Slowly he takes another bite of his food, he suddenly feels so uncertain. Finally, for lack of anything better to say,

“I’m glad,” he whispers and avoids making eye contact.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I Gawain?” Asks the man beside him, voice small and fragile in his ears.

“Not uncomfortable, thoughtful. I don’t know what the proper response to that is.” He answers honestly and meets blue eyes.

“I don’t know either. But I wanted you to know that anyways.” Lancelot smiles softly and returns his focus to his food.

They lapse back into silence as they finish their meal and clean up in synchronized routine. When the food has been put away, the counters wiped up and the dishes done, all in companionable silence, Gawain feels the need to speak again.

“If my teasing went too far earlier, I apologize.” He shrugs and picks up the damp towel to be put away properly. Lancelot snuggles back into the security of his oversized sweatshirt and turns to look at him.

“You didn’t. I, I thought it was sweet. I would have spoken up. But, Gawain,” he stands still as the other approaches him, “ Were you teasing me, or flirting with me?” He feels the flush creep up his chest and onto his face, Lancelot is suddenly very close and his eyes are so very blue and earnest. On instinct he reaches up and brushes curls behind his ears, knuckles barely dragging across the others cheekbones in the process, and he leans into it.

“Flirting, I was definitely flirting and teasing. Both. It was both.”

“Good,” Lancelot whispers, catching his hand, he lets it still and does not pull away as plump lips turn towards it and kiss his wrist. “Watch the sunset with me tomorrow:”

He nods dumbly. He will happily watch the sunset with Lancelot whenever, wherever, and however, the other man asks him to.

#Cursed TV 2020 #Fanfiction #Lancewain #Lancelot #The Weeping Monk #Gawain #The Green Knight #Roomates #College AU #domesticity #Sunsets #Fluff #So much Fluff #Flirting #So much Flirting #moments of seriousness #Rated T for suggestive themes

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aloera · 3 years

Note

The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

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creampuffqueen · 4 years

Text

Deep in the Heart of Texas - One

a/n: So, because I have zero self control, I went and wrote the first chapter of the ToG southern AU I was talking about. I did this instead of doing online school, so I’d appreciate some feedback! I’ll probably continue this, but you know, support is nice. I think it’s also important to note that Aelin would absolutely rock a southern accent. So would Aedion. It would be so hot. Just... imagine it.

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is ready for the best summer of her life. She’s home from college for the summer, and so are all of her friends. Even her cousin is on a break from the military. Everything is set up to be perfect. Until... her mother decides to let the son of an old family friend stay with them while he grieves the loss of a loved one. And Aelin is not going to let a party pooper ruin her summer.

Rowan Whitethorn has just suffered the biggest loss of his life: the death of his long-time girlfriend, Lyria. His family is sick of him moping around his tiny New York apartment, so they ship him down south for the summer. The last thing Rowan wants is to spend his vacation in Nowhereville, Texas, but he has little choice. Not to mention, the only people his age seem to hate him. How on earth is he going to survive 3 months of this?

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is living the high life. She’s sitting in a chair outside in her backyard, beer in one hand, barbeque in the other. Her dog, Fleetfoot, is perched at her feet, just waiting for some scraps.

“So, little cuz,” Aedion says, sitting beside her. He reaches over to grab one of the ribs from her plate, but Aelin quickly slaps him away. “How was your junior year at A&M?”

“Pretty good.” Aelin concedes. She finishes off the rib she was eating and passes the bone to Fleetfoot, who immediately jumps to gnaw on it.

“How about you two?” Aedion addresses Aelin’s best friends and roommates, Lysandra and Elide.

“At least you two only have one more year.” Lysandra groans. “Next year I have to focus on getting into vet school.”

“You’ll make it, Lys.” Aelin assures her. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“I still have to get into medical school.” Yrene sighs from her own seat. “And Nehemia, you’ve got to get into law school.” Their other friend nods and rolls her eyes.

“And this is why I’m just getting a business degree.” Aelin chuckles. “Four years and I’m out.”

It’s so good to see her friends again. They’ve known each other since high school, but only Lys and Elide stayed back home in Texas for school. Nehemia got accepted into Harvard, which they all saw coming. Yrene managed to get herself all the way up to Washington State. As for Ansel and Nesryn, they moved out too, scholarships taking them far, far away.

Aelin missed her friends. It’s so good to have them back. And Aedion, too. By some miracle or another, he’s managed to have a break over the summer. His next deployment isn’t until September.

When Aelin pulls herself from her thoughts, her plate of ribs is noticeably smaller. And her cousin has the tell-tale stain of barbeque sauce on his chin.

“You prick.” Aelin sighs.

“You weren’t eating them!” Aedion laughs. “I’m not letting good barbeque go to waste.”

Aelin, being the mature adult she is, just sticks her tongue out at her cousin until he laughs so hard he chokes. She stands up and takes her plate, smacking him on the back as she does. Aedion just glares.

“I need more food. Any of y’all coming with?” Nehemia and Yrene take their plates and follow Aelin up to the long table where the food is being served.

Aelin’s parents are sitting in camp chairs nearby, laughing. Evalin has a margarita in hand, while Rhoe’s got a beer. When they approach, suddenly all three girls find themselves pulled into a conversation.

“Are y’all having fun?” Evalin asks, smiling.

“Definitely.” Nehemia laughs, ever the polite one. “Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs. Galathynius.”

“Oh, of course.” Evalin gushes. “I couldn’t just throw a welcome home party for my daughter without inviting all her friends, now could I?”

Aelin attempts to shrug off her mother, but it’s no use. Evalin Galathynius has perfected her Southern charm, and of course Nehemia and Yrene are defenseless against it.

So her friends and mother chat, about life, college, relationships. Evalin even gets Yrene to confess she’s been keeping a long-distance boyfriend, and Aelin is pissed that her friend didn’t tell her first.

But she gets more food; barbeque, mostly, but she heaps some beans and a roll on as well.

“Save some room for banana pudding!” Her mother warns.

“Mom, I will always have room for banana pudding.” Aelin grins. Finally realizing that they don’t have any food on their plate, Nehemia and Yrene pull themselves away and pile their plates high.

By the time they get back to their group of chairs, Aedion has managed to down two whole beers. Ansel and Lysandra are arguing, (or flirting, Aelin can never tell), and Elide is scratching Fleetfoot’s ears as the dog chews on another rib bone.

“Mom’s bringing out the desserts soon.” Aelin alerts her friends. Lys perks up at her words, glancing back towards the house, where all the food is.

“Please tell me she made banana pudding.” Elide groans. “I haven’t eaten it in like, years. Your mom always made the best.”

“Okay, but your mom makes really good butter cake.” Aelin laughs. “I mean, it’s got enough fat to give you diabetes with one slice, but that’s a problem for another day.”

“Mom didn’t make any for the party, though.” Elide pouts.

Before Aelin can respond, three kids crash into their circle, laughing wildly. It’s Evangeline, Lysandra’s little sister, along with Hollin and Terrin, the younger brothers of Dorian and Chaol. Who, for the record, Aelin didn’t know were invited.

“Sorry!” Evie chirps. She stands up again and runs off, the younger boys chasing after her. Fleetfoot, done with her bone, jumps up and dashes after them with a bark.

Lys just rolls her eyes. “Kids.”

Beside her, Nesryn nods in agreement. “Kids.” Aelin spots Nesryn’s older sister, Delara, with the rest of her very large family. Delara has a baby on her hip, while the other three helions run circles around their mother’s feet. Nesryn’s younger cousins soon join in, creating a whirlwind of small children. Aelin has to look away; they’re making her dizzy.

This time Nehemia joins in, a huff of laughter on her lips. “Kids.” She points to her two little brothers, antagonizing Rhoe Galathynius by the house, likely begging for dessert to come out sooner.

“Well, as nice as this is, I don’t have any siblings, so I cannot relate. Sorry to burst your bubble.” Aelin’s comment gets a laugh from all around their circle, and soon everyone is back to eating food.

“Look! The pudding’s out!” Aedion shouts, and all the college-aged kids drop everything and sprint to the house, shoving each other out of the way. Nobody is getting between Aelin and her banana pudding.

“Hey! Slow your roll!” Evalin scolds. “There’s enough pudding for everyone. As long as you only take a small scoop. Aedion, I’m talking to you.” She fixes her nephew with a stare, and Aedion winces.

“Yes ma’am.” They all chorus. Satisfied with their manners, Evalin serves them all dessert.

She’s in the middle of scooping out Aelin’s portion when Rhoe appears, holding her phone. “Honey, someone’s calling.”

“I know how to use a phone, Rhoe.” Evalin sighs. She scoops Aelin a little bit more pudding and then takes her phone, letting her husband go on dessert-serving duty.

Aelin links arms with Elide, the two of them grinning madly before plopping down right there, next to the dessert, digging in with their spoons.

The rest of their friends are soon to follow, and Aelin doesn’t miss how Lysandra chooses to sit a little bit closer to Aedion than is probably socially acceptable.

She chooses to ignore it, however, and instead focuses on interrogating Yrene.

“How long have you had a secret boyfriend for?” She demands.

“When I came home for Christmas.” Yrene laughs. “We went to the Havilliards’ party and I met him there.

The Havilliards, some of the most prominent people in their little cluster of small towns, have a reputation to battle even the Galathyniuses. And the Ytgers, for that matter. Their parties attract attention from all over, which was how Aelin’s friend group met each other.

Aelin and Elide had grown up practically as sisters, though Elide lived one school district over, in the neighboring town of Perranth. Orynth was the largest city in their area of South Texas, holding a whopping 10,000 people.

That was whopping to Aelin, at least. Elide’s town, Perranth, had around 8,000, with Rifthold nearby being 9,000. All the other towns that their friends lived in had even less than that, the smallest being Caraverre, Lysandra’s town, with barely 1,000 people.

The Havilliards, being the socialites of tiny Rifthold, have parties all the damn time. They even let their eldest son, Dorian, host wild gatherings of drunken teenagers.

Aelin and Elide, barely seventeen, had managed to sneak into one of these elusive parties. They’d met Lys, Nesryn, Ansel, Nehemia, and Yrene, although the last girl was only there because her friends dragged her there and then abandoned her. Some friends, they were.

“Okay, that doesn’t give us any clue as to who he is.” Lys points out, pointing her spoon at Yrene. “Everyone and their cousin goes to the Havilliards’ parties.”

“Chaol Westfall.” Yrene giggles. Aelin nearly spits out her banana pudding.

“Him?!” She yelps. Yrene’s laughter turns hysterical.

“Yes! Chaol Westfall is my boyfriend.”

“He’s here, though.” Ansel adds. “Why aren’t you over there with him?”

“Because I missed y’all.” Yrene says. “I haven’t seen y’all since summer last year. None of you came home for Christmas.”

“Too busy.” Aelin, Elide, and Lysandra say in unison. Yrene rolls her eyes.

Other people come for dessert, and Aelin scoots away as one of Nesryn’s nieces tries to peek over her shoulder. Delara scolds her and drags her away, and the whole group bursts into laughter.

Aelin looks up, seeing her father still serving. That’s strange, where is Evalin?

She sees her mother, standing on the porch of the house, hand over her mouth. Something’s wrong. Evalin’s porcelain face is ashen, the color drained from her cheeks. Aelin thinks she can see tears.

Before anyone can ask what she’s looking at, Aelin’s jumping up and rushing to her mother, bounding up the steps two at a time. She nearly crashes into her uncle’s rocking chair, but stops at the last second. Evalin hardly looks up.

“Of course. Of course he can stay here. For as long as he needs. Yes, please, send him my love. I’m so sorry.” Aelin catches Evalin’s eye, who holds up a finger, gesturing for her to wait.

When she finally hangs up, she just lets out a long sigh, putting the phone on the porch railing.

“Do you remember the Whitethorns, Aelin?”

The question catches her off guard, but Aelin nods, anyway. “I do. Sellene and Enda, mostly. And… there was another one, right?”

Evalin just hangs her head. “Yes. Rowan, that’s the other one. Poor boy, his girlfriend just died in a car accident.”

Now it’s Aelin’s turn to put her hands to her mouth. “Oh Lord.” She hardly remembers the Whitethorns, just that she met them a few times when she was young. She remembers that Enda and Sellene were nice and would play with her, while Rowan hung back, always saying mean things to her. She remembers Aedion beating him up one time, too.

Still, just because he was rude to five-year-old Aelin doesn’t mean he deserved this tragedy.

“If you call Mrs. Whitethorn again, please tell her I’m so sorry for their loss.” Poor Rowan.

“Well, here’s the thing, Aelin.” At Evalin’s tone of voice, Aelin knows she’s about to say something she won’t like. “Mrs. Whitethorn is very worried for him. They’re so busy up there, you know, they don’t always have time to check in on him. So… she asked if we would let Rowan stay down here for a bit.”

“Mama!” Aelin sighs. “I feel bad for the guy, but that doesn’t mean he has to come and live with us! All of my friends are down here! I don’t want him ruining my summer vacation.”

“Don’t you start sassin’ me, young lady.” Evalin snaps, her accent coming out in full force. “How can you be so heartless? Rowan is grieving.”

Aelin feels like a kid again, getting sent to her room for giving her mother attitude. So she relents before she gets embarrassed in front of the entire town of Orynth. And then some.

But she’s in a pissy mood, now. Of course she feels bad for him, but not that bad. Not bad enough to let him stay in her house over the summer. For all she knows, Aedion could be deployed all next summer. Lysandra might not be able to come home, being to busy getting ready for vet school. This could very well be their last summer together.

And Aelin Galathynius will not let Rowan Whitethorn ruin her summer.

~~~~

Rowan Whitethorn steps out of the Uber, taking in the sight of the small town. He’s flown into Houston, Texas from Doranelle, New York, and it’s cost him a stupid amount of money to get a car to take him all the way down here. They don’t even have taxis in this god-forsaken state.

Though, to be fair, it’s partially his own fault. His flight had gotten moved up, and he’d forgotten to text Evalin Galathynius the new time after she insisted she’d pick him up from the airport.

As the Uber pulls away, Rowan takes a long minute to glance around. He’d seen the sign as they’d driven in, had nearly felt his eyes bulge out of his head when he saw ‘Population: 10,000’.

He fingers the strap of his backpack, taking in the scenery. He’s in what must be a public park, but why anyone is outside is beyond him. It is so fucking hot outside.

However, the park is full. A pair of mothers with strollers, chatting as they walk along the park trail. Kids play on a playground in the distance. And a couple, seated at one of the picnic tables, have their hands clasped.

Rowan looks away at that.

There wasn’t any place he could go, or that his parents could ship him off to, where he could just forget about Lyria. She’d been the love of his life. When he had a bit more money saved up he was going to ask her to marry him. He wanted to start a family with her.

And it seems like she haunts him, because no matter where he looks there is something that reminds him of her.

Rowan sighs deeply, starting to walk. He needs to be away from this place, with so many… people. And he needs to get inside somewhere, away from the oppressive heat. How anybody manages to live in this weather is beyond him, being born and raised in New York.

He observes the town as he walks, taking in the architecture, the style. It looks fairly modern, save for the houses. The houses all look like miniature versions of that house from Gone with the Wind. The movie, of course. He didn’t bother to pick up the book.

This tiny town seems as if it’s been permanently frozen in time… in the Civil War era.

Rowan goes back to walking, searching for a store or something where he can step inside for a minute, pull out his phone, and turn on Google Maps. However, as he approaches the little chain of shops, he’s stopped by a slightly older woman.

“Are you visiting someone, dear?” She asks, smiling broadly.

“Uh, yeah.” He replies awkwardly. Why is she talking to him? Back in New York, it’s pretty much every man for himself. You find your own way or you don’t. Nobody ever offers help.

“Where are you headed?” She’s still smiling, and that puts Rowan on edge.

“Um, I’m looking for… Evalin Galathynius? Do you know her?”

The woman’s face lights up. “Oh, yes, I know her. You’re gonna want to walk down that street right there, then take a left at the blue house, keep going until you reach the small park, then-”

Rowan doesn’t know what to say. Her instructions drone on, and he just can’t pay attention that long. He’ll just take out his phone when the lady leaves.

“You got all that, sweetie?” Rowan jolts back to the present.

“Yeah, thanks.” She smiles, and keeps walking. Rowan lets out a sigh, and pulls out his phone, plugging in the address to Google Maps.

Fifteen minutes of walking. Rowan looks up, at the sun beating down on him. This is going to suck, isn’t it?

~~~~

Rowan holds a scowl as he finally makes it to the Galathynius house. Carrying both a backpack and dragging along a suitcase in the sweltering Texas heat is not doing good things for him.

He’d also gotten lost multiple times, even with the help of Google Maps, meaning he’d nearly doubled his walking time. All he wants to do now is to go inside somewhere they have some goddamn air conditioning.

Rowan drags his suitcase up the porch steps, nearly panting. He’d sweated through his shirt, which had only added to the awful heat.

There isn’t a doorbell; or not one he can see, anyway, so he knocks on the front door, hard.

He hears a muffled “I’ll get it!” before the door swings open to reveal a young woman, golden hair tied up in a messy bun.

Her expression turns suddenly sour as she takes him in, her turquoise eyes glaring. “Are you Rowan?”

“Yeah.” He says. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, but my flight got pushed up.”

“That’s what I thought. You weren't supposed to get here until this evening.” She sighs and opens the door. “Come inside.”

Rowan does so gladly, smiling as the cool air kissed his sticky skin. “Is your mom home? You look too young to be Mrs. Galathynius.”

“My name is Aelin.” She says. She doesn’t offer her hand to shake, just keeps walking further inside. “Do you want me to show you your room?”

“Sure.” Rowan follows Aelin through the house, marvelling at how… large it is. And, he’d noticed as he’d approached, it was on a massive piece of land, as well.

Aelin walks quickly through the house, pointing out a few things like the kitchen, dining room, living room. They come upon a large staircase, and she bounds up them. Rowan sighs and goes to dragging his suitcase upstairs.

Aelin even has the audacity to look annoyed at him for being so slow. Rowan resists the urge to snap at her. He’s exhausted, and just wants to lay down somewhere and sleep.

Aelin leads him down a long hallway, and points to one of the doors. “That’s your room. And the bathroom’s right there.” She gestures to another door across the hall. “All the other rooms are occupied right now, so no snooping.”

Rowan doesn’t answer, just nods. Stepping inside the room, he can’t help but notice how big it is. Just like this entire house, it’s giant. He’s got a four-poster bed, plush carpet on the floor, a dresser, and a closet. It’s more luxurious than anything he’s ever had.

He doesn’t bother to unload his stuff. Sleep is pulling at him, making his eyes heavy. So he quickly pulls off his sweaty shirt and collapses on the bed, sinking into the mattress.

He’s gone quickly, but right before he falls asleep, one last thought materializes in his head.

Lyria would have loved it here.

#throne of glass #tog #sarah j maas #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #lysandra ennar #elide lochan #yrene towers #nehemia ytger #ansel of briarcliff #nesryn faliq #galathynius family #chaol westfall #dorian havilliard #tog southern au

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petrichorismydrug · 5 years

Text

RUBATOSIS | JJK | Pt 2

Pairings: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff, minor angst (this can change) | Roommates, coffee shop, soulmates AU | Latina OC

Word count: 2.5+k

Sumary: It started with a small hold of his hand, then it was just easy to hold his hand because for some weird and unknown reason it fit perfectly with yours.

A/N: This part wa written with me half asleep, so I will edit this later

This chapter contains one (1) phrase in spanish, and maybe I will edit this later cause I think I switched the POV but its almost midnight and I'm most sleep than awake.... but the idea didn't leaved me so I need to write this.

The writters block is finally over!!!!

Hope you like. Lots of love

Pt 1 | Pt2 |

[NOW]

“You know, it’s really unfair to realize that romance was created by corporations to prey in losers who thing buying nice things will make somebody love them, when in reality it’s not. That is why I don’t support all this gift giving thing that happens on valentine’s day or B-days. So, I don’t want any of you buying me unnecessary things”

The new ones in this group of friends were surprised, they even had theirs presents ready for valentine’s day; it was in three days. The older ones knew that you actually loved presents although you really did think that it was unnecessary to spend money in something useless when they can easily give you a used t-shirt or hoodie, normally you give them hints when saying things like, ‘that’s cool’ when something catches your attention from their wardrobe. A long time ago you stopped saying ‘that will look amazing on me’ but they still saw the words on your eyes when something catches your attention.

“It is already ‘That’s 70’s show’ time of the year?” said Jin while grabbing another slice of pizza. Yoongi was looking at the ceiling for answers, Hobi pressed his lips making his dimples appear and Joon just shake his head.

“I think I already told you, Hyde is a bad influence” Namjoon spoke while reaching for his soda.

“If you want to call someone a bad influence, that is Kelso. Hyde is beautiful, don’t you dare say something bad about him with your dirty mouth in my presence” Joonie looked offended for a big moment there, and when his jaw did the thing, she knew she almost fucked up “Sorry, you know...”

“He cheated on Jackie” he stabbed back at you, both holding each other stare, the old ones knew this was getting on a dangerous war line. It was not a good day for both and your fights, the real ones usually end bad. On the other hand, the young ones were already lost on fighting the idea of returning the presents or not. Jungkook started to sweat cold.

“How very dare you?” her voice trembles a little, Hyde was your sunshine, your emotional support character

“He did” matter of fact his voice sounded back, in a low tone.

“The writers just did him dirty because he was too good for the show and people started to like him more than the other guys” Joon just shrugged “and for your information, he is much better than Ross Geller, he is a person with and obsession”

“How can I say no, when you are right?”

“You see. I have good eye for characters, I mean, I love Chandler.”

Namjoon scoffed “Everyone loves Chandler.” After a long pause, with the air thick, and everybody nervous except for Jin that was still eating his slice of pizza unbothered; you broke the silence, just to give a message to Joon.

“Sabes que te quiero y eres un tonto, ¿verdad?” a smile made his face to shine and his deep nice dimples appeared. How can you fight with this one? He is the nicest that always try to protect you. Your one and only giant that was there to fight your dragons. Your moon to your dark nights. The hot to your shot. The landscape to your big picture. The plane to your dream travel. He was always there, and you don’t see your life without him. A brother from another mother.

“What she said?” Jimin asked softly to Yoongi, who was still looking for answers on the roof; after a couple of seconds he grabbed his fake wise man beard.

“That he’s an idiot and she hate us all” as fast as the light travels four cousins flew across the living room to where Yoongi was seated, making a mess of popcorn in the floor paired with some complain noises from him. “Fork! That was uncalled for”

“You are going to clean all that as punishment” You said, privilege of living here, you can sometimes order around, and your cute friends would obey you. Sometimes. Even though this time he was asking for doing some house cleaning with all his bad behavior, and by bad behavior I mean, he is being a liar, what he knows is forbidden in this household.

“You are the ones that made this mess, I’m the victim here, why would I?”

“You broke rule number one” Jungkook spoke, standing up taking some empty glasses to refill them with soda in the kitchen. Everyone just laughed at that, because it was true and Yoongi was shook, you could just tell that by his face, but he laughed too.

Looking at Jungkook walk away you were immediately attracted to follow him as if he was like some weird and strong magnet, because you know, maybe he needs help with something. Clearly that was the only reason. Clearly. Before even realizing what, you were doing you were walking behind him.

“Need a hand?” He saw you leaning to the counter near him, but he shook his head with a smile pasted on his face. How could someone so tall look so cute and huggable. He was serving the drinks and mumble some words, but you couldn’t make out any. “You said something?”

“No!”

“Okay? No need to scream here.”

“I didn’t scream, just talked with enthusiasm” you just laughed at his pink cheeks and red ears, but you would not say that to him. Its not polite. But you know what, lets forget about that, you were distracted by how his hair was starting to cover his eyes and it started to be a dangerous future without going back. His coconut hair was like a safe point, but this new him with a new pierced ear started to haunt your days, more because he lived with you.

Reaching for his hair you spoke again “You urgently need a haircut” the softness of his hair was a new sensation to your hands, but it was so nice. There was no way you were using the same shampoo and your hair needed extra care and treatments. Was he made on a lab? Even his eyelashes were longer than yours, or any women you know.

“Ah… maybe, but I’m saving money, I’m going to let it grow for another month, probably two” two months, the words echoed in your head, two months without a cut? That was too much. Because this person in front of you was unique but adding long hair… you were not ready for that path in your life.

“I can cut it for you, if you want” you say still grabbing some strands of hair, Jungkook looked at the ceiling and then at you, the stars that shared the space in the black of his eyes always amazed you, -stars, that was the only option for that shine in his eyes, the light in the kitchen wasn’t even that bright, probably he actually was a robot, normal eyes can’t shine like that- “what..? I don’t know what that look means”

“You want to cut my hair?” his tone could be mistaken for a mockery but was a nervous one with a smile at the end. It's just so much to say, but you misunderstood.

“Well, its not as if I want it’s just that I wanted to help, but forget I say it” you were not offended, but there was this feeling in your chest, maybe shame, not sure you can’t put a finger on it but was a weird chest pressure. The quick and most easy escape was just going back to the living room, it was your want and decision, but the hand in your hand kept you in place. Leaning his head to your hand working on his hair.

“You will not chop my head off?”

“I’m not doing it”

“No! do it, please” if you wanted to name an animal that fully described Jungkook you were sure he was a bunny, but now you were concerned cause you could practically see the bunny in him but also a puppy. A bunny with puppy eyes, that was unfair… he was unfair. He started to notice you can’t say no to him, and the worst part? Even though you knew that too, you still say yes to him.

A big huff leaved your mouth “Alright, I’ll do it. But I don’t want any regrets later.

“Never” his smile was bigger, how so?

“When you want to do it? Let’s set a date”

“Now?”

“You are crazy, we have people over, we can’t”

“Why not?” he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer, not hugging you but close enough for you to have troubles breathing. Why he always smells so nice and baby like?

“Because… because, because Jeon…” a hand in his chest made it worst for you, that was a note for future reference, not that you will go around touching him or something. But it was hard to ever consider that when he flicks his hand to the back of his neck; such gestures make one fall in love madly. Hold on, what was that? The noise of someone cleaning his throat made you both look at the source of the noise, that happens to be Jin. This saved you from a talk with yourself that you surely were not ready to have.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“No” you cut any word that Jungkook wanted to say and took a step away from him cleaning the inexistent crumps on your clothes. “Just talking”

“About what?” that alarmed you, the look on Jin face told you he was there a long enough to misunderstand this conversation you were having.

“He wants me to cut his hair”

“Ah” Jin relaxed but for some reason his posture started to take a defensive one “she is actually good at it, she did an amazing job at my last haircut”

“You cut his hair?” that was one of the two questions Jungkook wanted to ask you, because ‘you go to his apartment alone?’ was the other and Jin never comes here for you to do that.

“Yes, since a long time actually. When was the first? When I moved here?”

“No, remember that time Namjoon told you I was really mad at that person that chopped out my bangs? Then you volunteered, it was when we meet, like a month into the friendship.”

“Oh right, and that person being you because alcohol do weird thing to you. Please don’t even do that again, its damn hard to fix your hair with that length.”

“Still handsome.”

“I never said anything about your looks”

“So, he is handsome?” the tone of indignation in Jungkook voice was astonish, why was he like that?

“Yes, he is”

“Yes, I am” you both said, you in a normal voice while Jin had an offended one. His pouty mouth was so cute. Why were your friends so damn handsome?

“What’s up with this bickering?” Namjoon entered the kitchen followed with the other 4 guests of the night.

“He doubted my handsome face” Jin yelled, he was not a narcissist, but he knew well he was handsome, you all knew. They all are sinfully handsome. Maybe you did well in your previous life to be in the same room with seven specimens like them.

“Oh! You are handsome dear” Hobi said, patting his back.

“Yes, even Y/N couldn’t help but fall in love with him in the past” Yoongi apported an unnecessary fact of your life, making you and Jungkook to open your eyes as big as you could, if it was a competition Jungkook would have won. Even though the reason why you did it was for different causes.

“Hey! I’m not going around telling your crushes! If this is a revenge for you cleaning, you will be banned for movie night”

“It’s not revenges, I didn’t know we were not allowed to tell this, is in the public domain, the one involved knows, what’s wrong with the kids knowing?”

“So, you dated?” Jimin said with a cute and curious smile, you can’t get mad at him. But the air was thick, and everyone noticed.

“Umm… no, Brandon, that bastard…” Jin said lowly

“Who is Brandon?” Tae asked, munching a slice of pizza

“No, his name is Bradney, it’s my fairy”

“Your what?!” Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook screamed making you all to wince.

“My fairy… I, we all have a soulmate. So, we all have a fairy, the one that brings the things our soulmates lost. I’m not the only one knowing this, right?” When they nodded you continued “My soulmate didn’t let me” you pointed between Jin and you “let’s keep it that way”

“You know your soulmate?” Jimin asked what Jungkook was struggling to say, but the words didn’t find the way out of his mouth.

“No”

“What is the problem? Maybe you never meet him or her” the words Tae said were true, everyone knew them, they were people that knew his soulmate, and nothing happened, some never meet, and nothing changed their life.

“Its… It’s a he, but…” when you looked at Jin, he and all the old ones knew this was your limit for this topic, cause you really liked Jin, and Jin liked you back, but this was so hard cause you can’t turn back time, you had your chance and you decided to say no to it. You don’t regret it, but still, there is this weird feeling when this is the topic.

“Maybe we should get going guys, it’s getting late” The sunshine to your life saved you with his most brilliant voice and smile that made his eyes disappear. Luckily everyone takes the hint and didn’t asked further. Your chest was aching a littler and the release of air was making you to conscious of the lack of breathing you were making. A hand in your back bring you to earth again. It was your moon.

“You okay? You want me to call Sunmi?”

“I’m okay, really. If I need something, I will call her myself.” then a figure was behind Joonie

“I am sorry, I, you know I don’t have a filter when I’m with y’all” Yoongi apologized

“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t do it on purpose” you hugged him tightly “Still you need to clean” a grunt leaved him, but he actually made a mistake then.

In less than half an hour everyone leaved with small talk and vibrant goodbyes; lots of hugs were given. Yoongi actually cleaned, in a weird way that you almost stepped and did it yourself but at the end he did a good and decent job. You were just taking the trash out of the bin to take it out of the apartment in the morning when you leave for work. Jungkook was fixing the cushions, making them look fluffy by hitting them with more energy than needed, but if it was his way of doing it, you were more than happy to let him enjoy his time with them.

“So” he broke the silence “Tomorrow?”

“What is happening tomorrow?”

“I am setting a date for my haircut”

“Oh right. Yes, I can tomorrow.”

“It’s a date then” he bunny smiled, and it was the most adorable thing, you are sure you are never getting tired of it.

#batgtan scenario #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jjk #jungkook x reader

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