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#(Only to look back later and still notice mistakes falling out of the text rip)
keepermcge · 5 years
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Wishlist 
- More WOFF Char’s/Anon’s
- Lann healing people
- Also him buffing people and or using offensive spells 
- Lann playing with peoples hair/vice versa
- Lann having/getting a parental figure/older sibling 
- Someone giving him a pet 
- Someone holding him and telling him it’ll be okay! 
- Just anyone loving Lann! 
- Giving him compliments 
- Giving him piggyback rides
- Loving him! 
#;wishlist#(I know some of these things have happened! Or have happened and my slow ass hasn’t gotten around to it but I feel like idk#things can stay on a wishlist I feel like it’s okay/qualified?? I mean these wishlists are mostly just for funsises anyway you#know what I mean for me at least I mean yes I scream about Lann deserving love andgood thing and nice things! And! Love! But it’s only cuz#its true! He’s treated like doo doo in the game and I’m waiting for a canon apology coming from Reynn And Maybe Tama! Serafie’s cool! She’s#the best one in my book! But you know esp Reynn cuz like! Bruh we all know what imma say I say it a million times everyday she’s just too#cruel there there’s my rant summed up!)#(RL wishlist tho more Lann merch for my kid I’ll keep finding ways until! But! I just offical Lann merch! And too not be so damm tired all#the time so I can do my damm hobbies instead of passing out and sleeping the rest the day after work I gotta million things I wanna#write a million games I wanna play and a million anime movies to watch and I’ve only made a slight dent in the last one so rip)#(Only successful hobby is being able to love my kid cuz I can do that anywhere getting pissed at how they treat him in my head at work mm)#(One of my OG wishlist things is that he wants a pet like real OG and two years and six months later honk yeah my mind hasn’t changed)#(Nah legit tho this isn’t anything serious it’s funsies I love writing my kid regardless if I’ll ever write some of this and or get around#to it omg fukin hate being so#tired all the time#doesn’t help the longer I exist the more I write and somehow five hours to write one thing? Okay)#(Well no more like thirty to an 1 hour but the editing? Oof#esp when you accidentally fall asleep during it and then no I don’t trust half asleep me back to the drawing board 4 more times!)#(Only to look back later and still notice mistakes falling out of the text rip)#(I think of my og day’s of being fast enough to reply a shitton and then I remember I didn’t do the school I should’ve and wrote way less an#d oh god if I’m doo doo now I was like hell doo doo then slow af but prefer now writing more and editing more or you know knowing more about#editing now even if I still don’t get it and! No longer being afraid to speak my mind! Ahh 2019 been kinda shit but also the year I#attached my dropped balls fuk imma speak my opinion idc! If I’m the only one  Lann deserves better thanks)#(Geez dunno when this turned into a life story post but ehh what’s new for me I always go off)#(Anyway I’ll edit this whenever I think of things! But!)#(Seri tho 2019 not that greT but I love it cuz I got the balls and then I could finally justtalk about a lot that I wanted to that#couldn't without my balls I mean I’m just one insignificant person in the world anyway fuk it and I know people who love Lann like me maybe#it’s not a lot! But! And I know some! Who feel the same! Like Pacifica! So yeah I said Iwas the protect Lann squad leader for way before I#spoke up but now I’m really feeling that! Even ifit’s unnofical af! Leader of the protect Lann squad)
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devildomdisaster · 3 years
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Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.
So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.
So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).
I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it
I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.
Comfort spell gone wrong
Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.
“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.
“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.
Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”
Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.
No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.
Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.
Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.
So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.
You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…
Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.
When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.
“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”
“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”
Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.
Lucifer:
All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?
He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.
“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”
His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”
You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”
“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”
Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.
Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.
He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.
Mammon:
Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.
How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?
Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.
“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”
Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.
He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.
There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.
You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.
Levi:
He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.
He feels frozen
Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.
You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.
Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.
He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.
A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”
He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.
He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.
Satan:
Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?
Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.
When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.
He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.
Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”
He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.
Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.
Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.
Asmo:
As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.
You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.
This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.
He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.
Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.
Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.
“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.
“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”
After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.
Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.
Beel:
At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.
Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.
But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.
And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.
When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.
Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.
You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.
“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.
Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.
Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”
Belphie:
Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”
Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.
Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.
After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.
He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.
“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”
He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.
He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.
He wants to comfort you so bad.
To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.
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goggles-mcgee · 3 years
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Revolt Of The Akuma [Commission for @miner249er]
As the title says, this is a commission for @miner249er
Summary: There’s only so much a person can take and Marinette is almost certain she has reached that point. What with Lila and her seemingly never-ending lies, Adrien and his nonexistent spine, Chat and his stubbornness, Hawkmoth and his akumas, Paris and their expectations, it’s all too much. She’s going to snap sooner or later. At least she has Luka and Kagami on her side, right? Right?
[Contains: Class Salt, Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir Salt, Lila Rossi Salt, Angst, Misunderstandings, Slight Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng Salt, Slight Tikki Salt, Akumanette]
It was rare for her to be surrounded by quiet, even more so to need that blanket of security that quietness can give, and yet here she was. The pink of her room had never seemed more faded or dull even with the lights on. Realistically she knew it was not quiet, her home was never quiet, there was always the bustle of business from the bakery downstairs, the sound of traffic outside, usually the sound of music coming from her phone or computer, and as always the chatter from her Kwami. Though Tikki’s words at the moment sounded like they were being spoken from above water whereas Marinette was under said water, deep under. Her eyes glanced at the mess she had made around her, the pictures of past friends as she’s come to understand all too well these past couple of months, to the torn and destroyed gifts she had given them returned to her solely for the sake of making her heart wrench painfully beneath her skin, from there to the piles of used tissues thrown about during her silent cries, and finally to the thing that had hurt the most and had been sitting in her lap, limp, shredded, basically lifeless, her sketchbook. The sight caused Marinette’s heart to clench in pain once more and she could feel tears pool her eyes yet again, but she forced them to stay, she was tired of crying. 
Noise flooded back to her almost making her flinch. There was the soft ding of the bell from the bakery’s door downstairs signaling a customer’s arrival or departure, there were the car engines and the horns beeping, peoples soft voices floating in, and of course Tikki’s worried voice. Everything in her yearned for the quietness but she knew she had to deal with everything eventually and eventually meant now, so she didn’t worry her parents if they came to check on her at any point. If they even noticed her mood change from lunch, she thought bitterly and felt immediate guilt at the thought. 
“Marinette…”
“Tikki.”
“Were you listening to me?” Tikki asked, and even though she knew Tikki wasn’t saying it in an admonishing tone, the girl couldn’t help the tiny wince she gave in return as she finally stood up and picked up the tissue piles. Truthfully she hadn’t but she could guess what the kwami had been saying. It was the same thing every time something happened between her and her class. That, they would come around, they were just acting out of misplaced trust and love, they would realize their mistakes and come back to Marinette and everything would go back to normal, but she had to get a handle on her feelings in the meantime so she wouldn’t be akumatized. No that wasn’t right. So that Ladybug wouldn’t be akumatized, but how could she after the day she had?
Lila made good on her promise. Marinette didn’t have a friend left in her class, maybe not all of them thought her the awful bully that Lila painted her out to be, but they  didn’t stand up for her, they didn’t talk to her in or out of class, and they wouldn’t meet her eye when she desperately looked around for at least one supportive pair of eyes. It had never been this bad with Chloe. At least with Chloe she knew what she was getting into, she knew the brand of teasing and insults that Chloe Bourgeois used, and she knew that people were scared to stand up to her, but even then they would still flash each other a look of comfort, a look of strength. Those looks let all of them know they weren’t alone, that others saw them struggling, saw them hurting, and were offering comfort.  Things truly were simpler then. Lila was something more than Chloe, more than any other bully she had ever seen or encountered. She had a silver-tongue that just seemed to gain more power the more she used it. Her lies were outlandish at this point and yet, no one saw it, no one but Marinette and maybe others outside her class but she wasn’t. The awful truth of it all was that Marinette had no one.
Sure Adrien had said he would be there for her, but that had been the biggest lie Marinette had ever been told, even with Lila spouting nonsense like knowing Jagged Stone because she saved his ‘kitten.’ She was always prepared for Lila to lie, could count on it, and she had become accustomed to her friends falling for the lies, but she had thought she had at least one person by her side. That had quickly been disproven again and again, and it felt like parts of her heart chipped away every time it happened. Adrien, once considered the love of her life, did nothing to ease her aching heart. There were no comforting hugs or even a hand on her shoulder to let her know that she wasn’t alone in the class of sheep. There were no glances shared between the two to let her know that he was just as fed up with Lila’s lies as she. Most importantly, and the one that hurt the most, there were no texts or calls or even letters that offered her any amount of support. That’s not to say he never texted her, but when he did it was never about anything important, it was always mundane and dare she say superficial, and sometimes, sometimes he texted her about her situation but it was never anything helpful, if anything they made her feel worse. They were always about how she was “provoking” Lila and, “what happened to taking the high road Marinette?” At first they had made her cry, she wasn’t provoking Lila, Lila was provoking her, how had Adrien not seen that? Sadness grew into anger, blinding anger, anger that caused her to rip every poster down, change her computer background with such force she nearly broke the mouse, and gave away every planned gift for every occasion, and afterwards all she felt was numb. In the beginning the numbness scared her, but it grew on her like a second skin, it protected her sometimes so she welcomed it. 
“Marinette!” Again she was wrenched from her thoughts by the yell of her kwami’s voice. 
It took her a couple of seconds to focus, “Yes, Tikki?”
“I lost you again. Where were you?” Tikki asked softly as she flew closer to Marinette’s face. 
“Sorry. Nowhere,” Everywhere, ”just thinking.” An apology and a half answer, when was the last time she actually told someone how she was feeling without holding back? Too long, her mind supplied. 
“...About today?”
“In a way.”
“Oh Marinette, things will start to get better, don’t let today get to you.” Don’t let it get to Ladybug.
“I know Tikki.” Hollow words, but they were expected, she even threw in a small smile, it was the most she could manage. It was the response of habit she gave, even to her parents, though she had the feeling they wouldn’t notice even if she did show some of her real feelings, some of her hurt. They were just so busy with the bakery sometimes that Marinette couldn’t help but feel that their attention to her was more obligation than anything else, and wow, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of everything? They had even forgotten to ask how her day was today, and though she wasn’t going to tell them, it still would have brought her some comfort to know they cared or pretended to care. At this point she would take what she could get. Today had been another rough one, but it had started out like her new normal, she would go to school and be ignored by her classmates or get glares and sneers that she in turn would ignore. Then she would go to her locker and put the bare minimum of her belongings in, that she prayed would not be destroyed (“improved”) or stolen, she did her best to boobytrap anything of importance like she did her diary since having a lock on her locker was supposedly unheard of at this school. After that was class itself where she expected her seat to be sticky or wet with something but she took to bringing wet cloths and paper towels with her since this was so common. ‘Just harmless pranks.’ Mme Bustier claimed when she first went to talk with her about the behavior. Honestly she didn’t know what she had been expecting when she went to her teacher for help, but she was not going to make that useless of a mistake again. What followed though was weird, she still found rude little notes but none of her classmates went out of their way to glare at her, or make snide comments about her, she wasn’t even tripped if they walked too close to her. To some people it would mean a break, but it only put her more on edge, like something bigger was coming, because Lila was acting strange. 
She hadn’t spouted one lie about Marinette, she still lied, just nothing about Marinette, which was odd. Though Marinette pushed it from her mind in order to get some help from Mme Mendeleiev for her homework packet that was due tomorrow. Some problems were proving difficult and she knew the teacher was more than willing to help students out if they went to her, so that’s exactly what Marinette did for lunch time. She even brought a packed lunch so she could eat and work with the teacher so they had more time, it was actually rather nice. Mme Mendeleiev, though stern and strict, was a real teacher. She wanted her students to learn and Marinette yearned for that, she yearned to be one of her pupils. There was a part of her that thought that maybe the teacher wanted that as well. It was an impossible thought, she tried to transfer once, it hadn’t ended well for her. Lila spun it around when she had heard, claimed Marinette was doing it to abandon them and leave them without a class president. Oh how she spun her web of deceit and claimed Marinette was doing it for attention, to get back at the class for not believing her ‘lies.’ Of course the class and Mme Bustier believed her, because why wouldn’t they? Then Mme Bustier went behind her back and spoke to Principal Damocles and whatever they spoke about resulted in her staying in the class no matter what she tried or whatever papers she managed to get her parents to sign that would allow her a class transfer. She was stuck in the class. In her prison.
After lunch is when everything had blown up, and some twisted part of Marinette was thankful it happened sooner rather than later. Lila had made a show of holding something, some papers that looked destroyed, to her chest and “crying.” If you could call over the top whimpering crying. Marinette didn’t have to prepare herself since she had been prepared all day for something to happen when Lila and her herd of sheep came to her and yelled at her for ruining Lila’s homework and something about writing something on her locker too? She just didn’t care anymore, she still claimed her innocence and that there was no way she could have done it, but no one was listening and Adrien was just standing there frowning at her in disappointment and all she could think was, right back at you boy. Mme Bustier joined in and Marinette just stood there as the teacher of course fell for whatever scheme Lila cooked up and then held back a sigh when said teacher started to lecture her there in the hallway for everyone to see. Of course they had to make a spectacle of it, of course they did. Damocles decided to join in and Marinette thought it was for sure going to be another expulsion, some part of her hoped for it. She knew that was bad but she was just so freaking tired of dealing with it all, but to her surprise Mme Mendeleiev was her knight in shining lab coat so to say.
“Marinette didn’t do it. She was with me the entire lunch period so unless she managed to defy all laws of physics and was in two or three places at once I would say she’s being framed.” Mme Mendeleiev’s voice had commanded attention and even Lila couldn’t spin it around to keep Marinette in trouble. Even her classmates had stopped their incessant murmuring. 
“But Lila said she saw her running away from her locker!” Kim had yelled in return. It spoke of Mme Bustier’s character and control of her class that she hadn’t even attempted to reprimand Kim for raising his voice to another teacher. 
Marinette saw Mme Mendeleiev give Mme Bustier a look that had the younger teacher trying to reign in her rowdy class after they had all been yelling their own affirmations that yes, that was what Lila had said. “Then either Mlle Rossi needs to get her eyes checked or she saw someone else, or she’s lying.”
“Demeter! I’m sure Lila didn’t mean for this...little misunderstanding to happen. I'm sure she saw someone who looked like Marinette.” Mme Bustier had tried to reason. 
“If I’m not mistaken Caline, this is not the first time this has happened to Marinette. Her being accused of something in this school and getting punished unjustly with no proof. Forgive me, or not, but I’m not going to overlook this like you. Those are serious accusations to throw at someone. It would be wrong not to investigate. Right, Damocles?” No one spoke throughout Mme Medeleiev’s little speech but Marinette saw the glare Lila was giving the teacher and Marinette was tempted to tell Mendeleiev to just drop it.
“Er, yes, of course.” Principal Damocles had stuttered out. How he had managed to be a principal Marinette would never know. Once upon a time she had thought him an awkward but good guy all around, but that was not the case anymore.
“I suspect we call Mlle Rossi’s mother to speak about this. I’m sure she would love to know that her daughter is being...if not bullied then the start of being bullied. Then we will gather students who match Marinette’s description. It’s not much but it’s the best we got. I’ll go take pictures of the locker in question.”
“Oh-Oh we really don’t have to do that. I’m sure it really is all a misunderstanding! I wouldn’t want to bother my mother!” Lila had desperately claimed. 
“How is this a misunderstanding Mlle Rossi? Please explain. Because from where we teachers stand this is clearly bullying and we will not tolerate that at this school.” Mme Mendeleiev said with such authority, one would think she was the principal. 
Somehow, Marinette didn’t know how, but Lila had talked her way out of having to have her mother called to the school even though Mme Mendeleiev had strongly insisted to Principal Damocles that they call her and have a sit down with her over her daughter’s wellbeing and school life. Though she honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing had been done. It was Damocles after all. Lila probably said it would be best not to disturb her very busy, very important, diplomat mother and Damocles with his nonexistent spine folded. Though with all the wrong type of attention the incident had brought for the lying vixen Marinette had a relatively “relaxed” rest of her day. No one outright apologized for just blaming her for destroying another person’s work and defacing public property with no proof but at least they didn’t glare at her or make snide remarks for the rest of the day. Adrien even managed not to give her one of his lectures at the end of the day which was a big welcome on Marinette’s end. She could only deal with him being on his high-horse and looking down on her for so long and more often than not she wouldn’t even argue back she would just end the conversation with,*“Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre.” 
The day had started to look up for her and she was going to strike the iron while it was hot so to say. Her steps felt lighter. It’s like Mme Mendeleiv’s belief in her gave her invincibility for the day and she found herself actually looking forward to seeing Luka and Kagami at the end of the school day since she would finally have something good to share rather than her usual bouquet of gloom. The sun seemed brighter when she remembered that fencing practice was cancelled that day due to M D’Argencourt having some appointment to go to and a substitute couldn’t be found so the fencing club students had the day off. Marinette had excitedly texted Kagami that they should meet up after school and hang out earlier than the trio had planned since the girl had more free time. Kagami had agreed but said she would meet Marinette at her house as she had some things to take care of there at the school that she wanted to finish up before they met up. Of course Marinette had agreed without question, Kagami liked things to be in order before she had her free time and Marinette understood that. Now, Marinette didn’t remember what she had forgotten, but she knew she had forgotten something in her locker and had rushed from her home to grab it, not wanting her luck to run out for the day. She didn’t know why but since she was back at the school she felt the need to go talk with Mme Medeleiev and thank her once more for what she had done that day for Marinette. Whether the teacher knew it or not, she had given Marinette some hope back.
So she was going to do just that when she had heard familiar voices. Luka and Kagami? Kagami she could understand but why had Luka been there? He was supposed to meet them at Marinette’s house so she was immensely confused to hear his soft voice echo the halls. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her then and she had followed its call. She had not expected to find the scene she had stumbled upon, and the way her heart lurched with such pain. You would think I’d be used to it by now. Her eyes watered as she watched Kagami and Luka, her closest and only friends sitting with Lila and looking at her with such concern and half hugging her to give her comfort. She couldn’t hear what was being said but she would wager it was about her, she saw the disapproving frowns both Luka and Kagami gave in response to whatever Lila had said and all Marinette could think was, I’ve lost them too. She took them from me too. Before she knew it she had ran back home, to her room and had, well, she wasn’t too sure to be completely honest. It all went by in a blur, but she did remember texting Kagami and Luka and saying she wasn’t feeling well and maybe they could hang out together tomorrow, despite knowing Luka would have band practice and Kagami would have fencing practice. Then threw her phone onto her chaise and looked at her pictures of her friends she still had on her walls, she thought of the gifts she had given and all she had felt was this white hot rage and sadness that consumed her. 
She heard, more than felt the ripping and smashing of the things that reminded her of a past she could never get back. Marinette was done listening to Tikki in that moment, and she was done believing she had anyone on her side like she thought she did. Kagami and Luka, they both held little pieces of what was left of her heart and she could feel those pieces breaking with every thing she destroyed. Now here she sat in the aftermath of her destruction and she didn’t even feel satisfied. A small part of her still felt hurt, she was sure she had to have made noise, quite a bit of it, and yet neither of her parents had checked on her. It was just another drop added to her already too-full cup. 
“I’m sure it wasn’t what it looked like, Marinette.” Tikki chirped as she flew to Marinette’s sink and back with a wet cloth in her hand to help Marinette clean her face.
“What?”
“Luka and Kagami.” Tikki said their names so simply, “I’m sure it wasn’t what you’re thinking. You’ll see! We have to see them for patrol tonight. I’m sure you can ask them subtly about it as a concerned hero of Paris.”
The only concerned hero. Her mind bitterly spat out without warning. The thought almost made her wince in shock at the venom that came from it. Though she found herself not apologetic in the least, Chat had been proving himself to be unreliable. At first she had brushed off his behavior as his usual antics and she had been beating herself over the head about it everyday it seemed like. He became more aggressive in his flirting and really that’s what it was, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t some misguided persistence, it wasn’t just him being a “boy”, he became aggressive in his affection for her. He started asking her on more and more dates, bringing her more and more gifts and each time she rejected him, reminding him they had work to do, or she had plans, or that his timing was not the best, or of course that she had feelings for someone else, he started “punishing” her and Paris as a result. He would refuse to help, sometimes he wouldn’t show up to a battle at all, he would only call to ask her if she had come to her senses and realized she loved him and when she wouldn’t give him the answer he wanted he would hang up and the battle would be a lonely one. She had tried to get Master Fu to do something about it but he had brushed it off much like she had in the beginning. Seemed like he still had faith in the cat, Marinette wished she could say the same but it would be a lie, besides she had kind of announced she no longer trusted Chat to help her since she gave Luka and Kagami their individual Miraculous back but to permanently use to help her defend the city. So instead of Ladybug and Chat Noir defending Paris, it was Ladybug, Viperion and Ryuuko. 
“I think I want to go out a little early Tikki. Maybe the fresh air and time out will do me some good.” Marinette said with forced cheer as she stood and stretched her arms high above her head. 
“I think that’s a good idea Marinette!” Tikki chirped as she zipped through the air to hover at Marinette’s shoulder and she couldn’t help but chuckle. With a quick saying of the magic words and one transformation later, Marinette was out slinging from rooftop to rooftop. There was no destination in mind just yet, she just wanted to simply be for a while. Everything finally felt okay and she was ready to actually head to the top of the Eiffel Tower to wait for Luka and Kagami as their hero forms so they could start actual patrol when she heard their voices. It sounded like they were trying to keep quiet about something. She didn’t want to pry but it was late and if they were out this late as their civilian selves she had a duty to them to make sure they were okay. With a quick swing she was at the Château Edmond de Rothschild where the voices seemed to come from, it was supposed to be not accessible to the public, so why were they there? 
A quick peek was all it took to understand why and Marinette had to stop herself from making any noise, whether it be a sob or a scream or a gasp. She couldn’t risk it if what she was seeing was real, but there it was right in front of her. Luka and Kagami were sitting in their hero forms holding a charm of some kind between them and they both had the sickening violet glow of Hawkmoth around their eyes. They didn’t seem angry or sad, or even like they were being akumatized so she wasn’t really sure what was going on but she was going to put an end to it. Now.
“Yes Hawkmoth. Ladybug trusts us completely, we are doing our part.” Kagami said.
“But...Chat Noir has yet to show up. That has helped us get closer to Ladybug yes, but it means we don’t know where the Black Cat Miraculous is for you.” Luka had added on and it was another stab to Marinette’s heart. They, her most trusted allies, her friends, her maybe something more’s, were working with...oh god she was going to be sick. She had to get out of there. She didn’t know how long she had swung but at some point she hadn’t been thinking about where her yoyo should attach itself and she fell down into a garden. No, she couldn’t identify the garden because she couldn’t see past the tears. Marinette didn’t know how long she laid there crying but she quickly took off her earrings and just as soon as she did Tikki zipped out.
“Marinette…”
“You said things would get better Tikki. How? How is this supposed to get better? Luka and Kagami...they are...they’re working for HIM!” She screamed and she didn’t care who heard, she was tired of suffering in silence. 
“I’m sure it wasn't-”
“What? What, it looked like?....I’m done. I’m done sacrificing everything for this city. Sacrificing my feelings. I need to feel Tikki!” Without waiting for a response, Marinette threw the earrings and ran further into the park. She sobbed as loud and she had wanted to, needed to, and she couldn’t stop. She collapsed yet again, this time in a patch of butterfly bushes, though she hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t noticed, there was an akuma flying her way, but by the time she heard the tell-tale sign of the flap of its wings it was too late. The thing had already morphed with something on her person and all she could do was gasp.
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Gabriel Agreste couldn’t help the tiny shout of joy he let out because finally, finally he had managed to snag his masterpiece. She had evaded him for so long, her will over her emotions had always seemed so iron strong but finally, Marinette Dupain Cheng was akumatized, and she was going to be the one to get him the Miraculi he craved. He could feel it. He turned to brag to his swarm of butterflies seeing how Nathalie wasn’t in the lair but when he did so he paused. All his butterflies were gone. Honestly he had to just stand and stare because where could they have gone? And why hadn’t he noticed or heard them leave? 
No matter. The important thing was that he had Marinette Dupain Cheng under his control and it was going to be glorious. She would make quite the spectacle for Ladybug and, well, the heroes and Chat Noir when she appeared tomorrow. Victory was close, he could practically taste it.
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Wang Fu had made many mistakes in his life and he regretted every single one, but this one, this one was causing him the most pain. Marinette, the girl he had chosen to be Paris’s pillar of hope, the girl he had seen as a granddaughter, the girl he had failed to protect when she needed him, was in danger. He had been sleeping when Tikki had come flying into his shop wailing about Marinette. At first he and Wayzz couldn’t understand her, when she managed to calm down some she gave him some of the most devastating news he had ever received. Marinette Dupain Cheng had given up the mantle of Ladybug and had been akumatized. He had been desperate to know why and know why Tikki looked so guilty because surely it could not be her fault. Then the kwami had spilled everything, she told of the situation at school, the situation with Chat Noir, with Adrien that he himself had thought was nothing more than him being a stubborn boy, and she had told him how even she believed her user was somehow something more than human and would be able to handle it all. She had been angry at Marinette for throwing her away but had realized that it wasn’t her fault and had tried to find the girl to talk to her but by the time she had found her...it had been too late. So here he sat after calling Chat Noir to his shop and hoping the young hero...no, the young boy, would show.
“Master Fu?” Adrien asked softly as he entered the shop, it was almost easy to believe that the young boy wasn’t wayward and that Fu hadn’t made yet another mistake.
“In here Adrien.”
“Uh, what’s the matter Master Fu? You never call me Adrien. You said this was about Ladybug. Did she...Did she say something to you?” Near the end it was easy to see now the hidden anger the boy held, why hadn’t he seen it?
“No. This is something...far worse I’m afraid. Ladybug has been…”
“Ladybug has been defeated.” Tikki finished for him. 
He watched as Adrien’s eyes widened and he gaped at Tikki, he looked as though he didn’t want to believe it. Fu wanted to yell at the boy. He had no right to stand there and act like he cared about Marinette. “That is not all. A young girl has been akumatized and I fear she may be the strongest akuma Hawkmoth has ever made.”
“What do you mean Ladybug has been defeated!? Defeated by who!?” 
“By the akuma,” Fu lied, though was it really a lie?
“What akuma?”
“Not what. Who. The akuma is Marinette Dupain Cheng and from what Tikki and Ladybug have told me...Hawkmoth has been wanting to akumatize her for a long time. Whatever sent her to his side...I’ve met the girl. She is a kind soul and to know that he has her under his control...Adrien. You have to stop her. After that...after that is when you and I will sit down and have another talk, but in the meantime find Mlle Dupain Cheng and help her.” Fu pleaded, and he couldn’t help the tear that escaped. 
The emotion seemed to hit Adrien, though it didn’t seem to be the only thing. “Marinette is the akuma? How?”
“I think you know the answer to that Agreste.” Tikki answered with a glare from where she was being held by Plagg who honestly looked like he wanted to scratch his owner's eyes out.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t have time for this. Adrien, just please, go and find her. Help her.” Fu watched as Adrien had left, it was almost morning now and he had work to do as well. He had to retrieve the Snake and Dragon Miraculi before their current users handed them off to Hawkmoth, as he doubted they would help in the fight to save Marinette, and he didn’t trust them enough to let them try.
“We’ll get her back Tikki. We will.”
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Adrien was not having a good morning, he had spent the early hours of it searching for his friend and coming up empty, and the more he came out with nothing the easier it was to be frustrated. Though it seemed like frustration was something to be shared in the Agreste home since his father also seemed to be irritable that morning. More than that, he and Nathalie seemed off and they were the most put together people he knew. Them being off, threw him off, thankfully he was still at school on time, which is too say he wasn’t his usual early self, but he was there a couple minutes before the bell would ring which gave him a very small window of time to search for Marinette before class began. Though he’s not entirely sure she would even show up at school if she was an akuma but where else would she go? She had a problem with Lila and Lila was at school so the answer had to be there right? God he hoped so.
The bell was about to ring though so he ran back to class after searching the locker rooms and barely made it to his seat when the bell did ring. Marinette wasn’t there. But she was going to show up, he just knew it. She had to. Lila was the source of her anger probably, even if it was childish, she would come to settle the score and that’s when he would swoop in and save the day. Then maybe just maybe, Ladybug would finally see that they were meant to be and realize how amazing he was. The thought had made him smile, almost losing himself in the daydream, that is until he saw a familiar pair of pink pants enter the room. He was at immediate attention and was alert because Marinette...didn’t look like an akuma. She looked like normal herself, but she was an akuma right? So why didn’t she look like one?
“Marinette. Late again?” Mme Bustier asked even though it was obvious.
“I won’t be long Caline.” Marinette replied and her voice...it was just off. Yes it was Marinette but at the same time it wasn’t.
“Marinette! You will speak to me respectfully or I will have no choice but to-”
“To what? Tell me to be a better example? I’m tired Caline, I’m tired of being your doll that you dress up and play pretend with. I’m not a doll, and I’m not a teacher’s assistant, though it seems like that’s what you believe me to be seeing as you push me to do your job. Constantly, so don’t even try to deny it. It’s the teacher’s job to placate their students and make sure that their classroom environment is a healthy one. You allow bullies to reign free from punishment and in turn punish the victims. Do you ever get tired of being the indirect cause of akumas? Because really how many of your students have been akumatized and you have the gall to say you’re a great teacher, everyone’s favorite teacher no less.” Everyone in the room was dead silent. This wasn’t Marinette at all, but before anyone could say anything the akuma continued, though they didn’t know she was an akuma and Adrien so badly wanted to shout it out to warn everybody.
“Then there is all of you sheep. I had the absolute displeasure of once being your friend, but I realized you were never my friends to begin with. If you were you wouldn’t have believed lies over me.”
“Is this really what this is about Girl?” Alya shouted.
“Alya, it seems like you want me to start with you. You claim to be a journalist, a seeker of the truth, but that is the biggest lie you have ever sold yourself beside Ladybug’s best friend over there. You are a hypocrite. You say you are a defender against bullies and villains. Well you Alya Cesaire are one of the biggest bullies by association I know. You turned your back on me. On the truth. You refused to open your eyes and see what was truly there. You became a bully and enjoyed it. You took pleasure in everything you did to make me miserable alongside Lila. Well congratulations Rena Rouge you have been outfoxed and it isn’t because of some sapotis or illusions. I was wrong to ever trust you.”
Everyone watched as Alya grew pale and just sat there with her mouth agape. “Nino, Kim, Alix, Ivan. You became destroyers rather than the protectors of the weak you boasted about to make yourselves feel better. Well guess what Nino? There’s no shell to protect you from the truth! You are a bully, bigger than Chloe! Because instead of not doing anything like you had last time I was bullied for years on end, this time you partook in the “merriment.” Kim. How I ever trusted you with anything is beyond me. You know in China to call a child a monkey is a great compliment, to call you anything similar would be a great disrespect. How you held the title of the monkey king...I’ll never understand it. Alix, you always liked to believe you were as fast as a rabbit both in mind and body, well the rabbit is dead. Your time will never come again I’ll see to it. Your most prized possession, your watch, I helped you restore it after it had been broken and I even gave it back to you but that was a mistake on my part as you never deserved it in the first place. Ivan, who helped you during Stoneheart? Who? Oh that’s right it was me? I helped you see you weren’t that monster but I was wrong. I was very wrong.” The words were cruel and Adrien didn’t know where all this anger was coming from. Lila was the target right? Shouldn’t she only be going after her, not their friends? He had to sneak out and transform, he didn’t know where her item was but he would find it and put an end to all this unnecessary hurt.
“Oh Adrien, where do you think you’re going? You’re at the top of my list.”
“Your list?” He asked as though he hadn’t been caught trying to get out of his seat.
“Yes. The list of people who have wronged me. The list of people who have turned me into the current me. The list of people I hate. Sorry, but not sorry If you can’t handle hearing how imperfect you are but you will listen to what I have to say.”
Adrien didn’t understand why everyone gasped but he was hurt to hear that Marinette hated him. No it had to be the akuma’s influence, it just had to be. “I’m sorry you feel that way Marinette.”
Marinette walked up to him and took both his hands in hers, it would have been a sweet gesture if it weren’t for the added pressure. “Save it. I don’t want your superficial pity. You Adrien Agreste are the biggest liar I know next to Lila. You knew she was lying. You knew she was lying from the start seeing how Ladybug told you herself that Lila and her were not friends. Oh yeah I know about that, in the park, or how about when Lila was akumatized to be the Chameleon, which by the way Lila very unoriginal and I’m fairly certain you were akumatized on purpose but hey what proof do I have right? And she pretended to be you because she didn’t like what you had to say about her lying. Yet you still didn’t tell your so called friends about her, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself! I learned that the hard way. I believed you when you said we were in this together and that if we both knew then that was enough and that we should take the moral highroad. What a joke! I am truly disgusted with myself for ever thinking I was in love with you.”
What!?
_____________________________________________________________
Luka couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he and Kagami had rushed to Marinette’s class after they had each gotten a call from her mother asking if either one of them had seen Marinette. Apparently they went up to her room and realized she was missing but thought maybe she had told them she was spending the night at Alya’s and they maybe just hadn’t heard but when they had called her and texted her with no response they had gotten worried. More so when she hadn’t shown up that morning. Luka had immediately felt his heart drop. Marinette was, well, she was his melody and to think that something could have happened to her, it made him get on his bike and search as many places as he could think of. It seemed like Kagami had the same idea because he ran into her and her car before they decided it would be better to search together. He felt awful about her cancelling their plans yesterday but figured she just genuinely wasn’t feeling well. Luka was beating himself over the head because obviously that wasn’t the case. 
Maybe if him and Kagami hadn’t been so focused on helping get evidence that Lila was a liar and who Hawkmoth could be they wouldn’t be in this mess, but they had done all that for Marinette. They had seen what Lila had done to her and Kagami had been the one to say she didn’t trust Lila and proposed they help Marinette expose her for the lying weasel she was. Luka had been all for it, even if they had to pretend to be nice. When they found out that Lila actually didn’t like Ladybug well, that had been a shock but they had played into it. Both he and Kagami had acted like they too despised the superheroine and finally they saw Lila, the real Lila, or at least a small glimpse of her. She believed they really didn’t like Marinette and Ladybug, she believed they were her spies on Marinette, and then she admitted something that genuinely made Luka sick to his stomach.
Lila was working with Hawkmoth. And she wanted them to help them and join their “team.”
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was more evidence against Lila Ross and it was a way to help Ladybug who had seemed like she was being spread thin thanks to that no good Chat. So him and Kagami agreed to help. Then Ladybug asked them to be permanent heroes. They told Hawkmoth in order to gain trust from him and he had seemed pleased. Fake working with him was disgusting but him and Kagami felt like they were getting close to figuring out who he could be or what his ultimate goal was, but one thing was for certain and that was, for some odd unexplainable reason, Hawkmoth wanted to akumatize Marinette. He wanted Luka and Kagami to help, they had been hoping to unmask him before it came to that, but hearing Marinette now and seeing her...that was not Marinette. Hawkmoth succeeded somehow. Because that in there was an akuma and it was breaking Luka’s heart, more so when he realized it had way more information about people and the Miraculi than anyone would other than Ladybug herself. 
“Luka...that’s.” Kagami had never sounded so lost.
“I know. Marinette was, is, Ladybug.”
“What do we do?”
“We save her. And...and we tell her the truth.”
They were ready, they were opening their mouths to say their separate transformation phrases when a window in the classroom broke. They turned to look inside to see if it was Marinette running out and finally showing an akuma form, but all they saw was a green blur and Marinette leisurely following after the blur out of the school to the park outside. Of course they followed, but when they went to transform they both realized, their respective Miraculous was gone. What did they do now?
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Fu had done it. He had retrieved the Dragon and Snake Miraculous, with help from Tikki as she took them from their holders as he caused a distraction as Jade Turtle. It was never easy to hold his transformation but he had done it for the short while he had to. That was one, kind of two, problems out of the way, now all he had to do was wait for Adrien to save Marinette. “He will do it”
“He will, Master.” Tikki muttered from his shoulder as Wayzz nodded his agreement from Fu’s other shoulder.
“I doubt it.” Fu nearly fell with how he stumbled back at what had landed in front of him. It was Marinette but also not. He didn’t want to call her an akuma because even that felt like a wrong description. She felt like something else entirely, looked it too. She wore some armor like that of a knight over what appeared to be a black body suit, but one made of light. Her freckles seemed more like stars and if he looked closer each star was unique, and almost seemed to resemble every past akuma
“Marinette...what...what are you?”
“A protector, the Protector.” Marinette answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
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As soon as Marinette felt the akuma merge with her, because truly it felt like it merged with her and not an object, she felt so much. She could feel the butterfly feel her pain, her anger, could feel it soak up her negativity. She in turn could feel its pain and anger, its sadness too. Her heart filled with so much empathy. Then it was like the voice of the butterfly doubled, then tripled, then there were too many voices to be heard but Marinette understood. She felt their pain because it was the same as hers. All of them had been used, all of them together had put their trust in people they shouldn’t have. Though she had no way to see it, Marinette just knew she was covered in butterflies because she refused to call them akumas, they were victims just as she was, just as Paris was too, to Hawkmoth.
They told her they wouldn’t let him harm her. That they would protect her. That was the moment that Marinette felt that she and them were one and she vowed to protect them just as they vowed to protect her. She accepted them, she let them and her truly become one, because at that moment they were her only friends, her only family, and she was going to protect them from their abuser. They sung her praises, they gave her strength, they whispered a name and place. Their former owner. She listened and she heard and Marinette followed where they led. The closer they got to the Agreste Mansion, the louder the cries of Nooroo she could hear, could feel. She vowed she would protect him as well. He was her family, her friend too, just like the butterflies. A part of her felt like she should have been surprised that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth and that so, Nathaniel Sancoeur was most likely Mayura, but really she just felt anger. Gabriel and Nathalie were to face justice. Her justice.
They would pay for their crimes against Paris, and their abuse of the Miraculi, kwami, and butterflies. She was the Protector and nothing would stand in her way.
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“I don’t wish to fight you, but I see you believe me to be an akuma. I’m not. I don’t expect you to believe me but it’s the truth. I am merely the Protector now. As a sign of good faith,” Marinette, or Protector held out a hand to Fu, one he was reluctant to reach out for. “Here.”
It seemed like she caught on to his hesitation because Marinette threw whatever had been in her hand to him. Tikki and Wayzz had quickly helped catch them and when he saw what Marinette had tossed him he felt faint. Whether it was from relief or fear he didn’t know. Marinette had given him the Peacock and Cat Miraculi. “And what of the Butterfly Miraculous?”
“I’m keeping it. You couldn't protect it, so I will in your place. Nooroo and I decided it is what is best.” At the mention of the kwami, said kwami fly out into the open to sit in Marinette’s open palm.
“Marinette I can’t let you do that.”
“We’re not asking permission.” Nooroo stated as he nuzzled Marinette’s thumb that was caressing his head. “Marinette and I have suffered at the hands of Paris long enough.”
“This was merely me wanting to say goodbye face to face. Don’t come looking for me Fu.” 
Fu could only watch at Marinette, Nooroo, and a swarm of white akumas jumped away from him and his kwami. He didn’t know what else he could do. He was too old to run after her, and he didn’t have anyone he could trust with a Miraculous with to send after her. So he just watched as Marinette continued to get smaller and smaller in his vision, until she was gone. Though she asked not to be looked for, he would do it, because Marinette deserved to be found and talked some sense into. When he found her, an apology didn’t feel good enough, but he would give her the biggest most heartfelt apology. She was a kind soul, and truly deserved none of this.
______________________________________________________
It was chaos. Tom and Sabine had closed the bakery but it was still filled with people, only it was Marinette’s class and Luka and Kagami. They didn’t dare call this class their daughter’s friends after they finally learned what had really been happening at the school. Luka and Kagami had told them everything and Sabine, Sabine sobbed and had called out for her baby girl till her voice was hoarse. What had they done to her baby girl? But they apologized to them, they said they were tricked. It felt more like they were trying to trick them, but nonetheless they needed help figuring out where Marinette could be and they were offering to help. Tom said it was out of guilt and had wanted to kick them out but Sabine convinced him it would be more manpower to help with the search. Truth was, they were just as guilty, they hadn’t realized something was wrong with their daughter until she was missing. 
Adrien had come in with his arm in a cast, when they asked what happened, the class claimed it was Marinette when she was an akuma. Adrien hadn’t denied it, in fact he looked angry, every time Marinette was mentioned he would frown, and Tom had been so so close to just tossing the boy out, but they heard the kids gossiping and saying that someone had broken into the Agreste Mansion and had beaten Gabriel and his assistant pretty badly. When asked about it Adrien would get really quiet but would confirm that his father and Nathalie were in the hospital due to injuries. He looked a mess.
Luka and Kagami though,...those two looked worse. They looked as though someone had ripped out their hearts. They were there physically, helping wherever they could and however they could, but one glance and you could tell they weren’t there in spirit. It was awful. Paris was celebrating the supposed defeat and disappearance of Hawkmoth and Mayura, but how could Tom and Sabine join in the merriment when they couldn’t share that joy with their pride and joy? The guilt of being so busy had never hit them so hard, but they vowed that once they found Marinette, they would do everything in their power to make it up to her.
____________________________________________________________
It was quiet, actually it was more like her ears were ringing so loud that it was impossible to hear anything. Her body collapsed from exhaustion, she couldn’t travel any further but she felt the distance. It felt safe. She felt safe and maybe that’s why her body just kind of shut itself down, maybe that’s why when the butterflies and Nooroo prodded at her mind if she was willing to give up the akuma and drop the transformation and which she did, that didn’t mean that Marinette wasn’t going to fight to stay conscious even if it was a losing battle. But she was so tired and she could feel Nooroo reassuring her that they were safe and that? That was enough for her. She quickly slipped into unconsciousness and for once didn’t fear the possibility of nightmares, because she knew when she woke up she wouldn’t be back in Paris anymore. Though with falling unconscious she did fail to introduce herself to those who found her, right away.
“I’m telling you guys I saw something wash up on the beach from my house!” A boy said as he and his friends made their way down the beach.
“Yeah? Last time you said that and dragged us here it was just a piece of driftwood.” Another boy piped in with a point of his finger.
“And you claimed it was a real mermaid this time.” His twin sister added.
“Guys be nice I’m sure it’s an actual real mermaid this time.” A girl laughed as she walked ahead to walk side by side with the first boy. 
“Actually there are many documents of mermaids you know.” The third boy of the group said matter-of-factly.
“Any of them driftwood mermaids?” the fourth boy of the group asked with a laugh.
“Ha ha ha, very funny. But I’m telling you I really saw...someone. Oh my gods.” The first boy had started before he actually did see the slumped form of Marinette just lying there. 
*Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre Translation: No one is as deaf as the one who does not want to listen.
501 notes · View notes
ura-writes · 3 years
Text
Trampolinist
Summary - You’re a player who jumps from server to server, often revisiting several and always trying to find access to new ones. When a victorious game of duos Skywars on Hypixel wins you an invitation to one of the most famous yet exclusive servers in the community, you find a world you never knew existed, allies you’re not certain you can trust, and enemies that may not be just that. Oh, yeah, and an anarchist piglin hybrid.
(c!technoblade/server jumper!reader)
Basic warnings: minor blood, swearing, light threats
A/N - hello! I decided to start this series as a result of a sporadic idea at midnight after quite an odd dream. Some information you might need:
A few select people can jump servers without using portals, and you (the reader) are one of them.
Some servers are public and some require invites. Hypixel and a lot of the other bigger servers are public, while SMPs such as the Dream SMP are private and require an invite.
Jumpers, as they are commonly referred to throughout the series, still require an invite to private servers, though some have figured out loopholes to this process and actively exploit it, earning the title of “Crashers”. You have figured it out but don’t use the ability.
The rating for this series is 14-15+, most likely including minor to graphic descriptions of blood/injuries, violence, swearing, minor manipulation and death.
There are select groups of people who hate Jumpers and actively try to perma-kill them or get them source-banned from servers, leaving them stuck in single player and isolation.
From the author:
This will be in second person.
There will be no use of Y/N or (Y/N) or anything along those lines. I understand some people use them as a descriptor, but in my opinion, it looks a bit messy/choppy.
Feel free to criticize, though don’t be super harsh.
Also gl free to point out spelling mistakes.
I love love LOVE feedback! Gimme it! Please! /lh /gen
Anyway, those are the basics that you need to know! For now, at least… hehe.
Enjoy the first part!
-ura
——
The familiar particles signalling a personal portal opening in the lobby sends a few people scattering, but most just move to the side, though there are a fair few that stay to watch the person step out of the rip in reality.
The person stumbles out, cursing the deities to high heaven, brushing dirt and sweat and even a bug off of their face, certainly looking a bit worse for wear.
This was certainly not what the audience was expecting. They were expecting a prim, proper or at least somewhat distinguished person to step out of the actively sparking spiral, as most Jumpers are that way, even just a bit.
Nope.
“What are you looking at?”
The people step back a bit, noticing the sword the person clutches in their hand.
That person is you.
“Fuck off, would you? You probably see Jumpers on the daily! Fuckin’ annoying.” you grumble, sheathing the sword at your side. “Fuck… is this Hypixel?”
With a cursory sweep of the attire of the people surrounding you and buildings towering over everyone, you determine that yes, it is, in fact, Hypixel.
Of course, that may have also been the big-ass sign in the sky with the server’s name on it. That too.
With a sigh and a wave of your hand, you pull your inventory up. The typical “please place your personal belongings in a safe place before playing a match, otherwise they may be wiped.” message pops up when you do. You huff, wave your fingers to dismiss the text. Not like you’ve been here a hundred thousand times or anything like that.
The Netherite blade at your side, your armor and any sentimental belongings you have on you go straight into your enderchest, categorized in one of the shulker boxes designated specifically for this purpose.
As you walk along, trying to sort your inventory out (fortunately the server provides a free repair and replace to anyone’s clothing, as yours are beaten pretty much beyond self-help), deciding what match you might want to play, the crowd that was surrounding you quickly scurries off with a few screams.
A quick glance upwards catches your gaze on a red and white nametag.
Huh. Don’t see those often.
Whispers of the name you can’t quite see from where you stand rapidly reach your ears, ringing with slight familiarity.
Dream.
Odd. The masked man doesn’t often come onto public servers, mainly sticking to his own private server, named after him. The Dream SMP. How egotistical.
Without another glance towards the fan-people, you select a game idly. The blue text pops up in front of you, confirming your want to play the match.
Skywars Duos.
Before you know it, you’re whisked off to the arena, a bit dizzy from your landing, but fine nonetheless. The timer for the start slowly counts down, ticking slowly as people pop into existence with increasing frequency.
A presence behind you alerts you to your teammate. You nod at them just as the beeping of the final ten seconds counts down.
After a few repeated sessions, most being losses, you decide on one more match before you head to a tavern for the night, preferably one with a view.
This time you’re the second one to arrive. And for once, you take a longer look at your teammate.
He’s the guy everyone was freaking out about a few hours earlier… what was his name again? Dr-something. Or was it a Tr-something? Ah, who knows. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s good. You don’t bother to look at his nametag; he’s probably just some hotshot who thinks he’s all that.
“Not going to freak out?” he asks you. You snort at the question, shaking your head with a glance at the timer.
“Just here to kick ass.”
“Fair enough,” he replies. “You any good?”
A laugh from you echoes as the beeping of the countdown starts.
“We’ll see.”
The barrier below you drops, sending you hurtling to the floating island below. You quickly hit the ground, rolling into a crouch while your teammate raids the chest beside you, tossing a few bits of armor and a stone axe as well as a golden apple, which you catch and nod gratefully.
The hood on his head drops when another player attempts to take him out of the game. He ducks, barely avoiding the glimmer of the enchanted sword, sweeping her legs out from under her. The enemy player narrowly rolls out of the way with her shield being knocked out of her hands into the dark blue void below the floating island.
She curses loudly as his axe lands beside her head, kicking it to the side.
In that moment, you shove her hard off of the crumbling stone, jabbing your axe in her shoulder for final measure. Her falling figure flashes red with the loss of hearts, and eventually, she disintegrates into dust, the announcement of her tag being eliminated in the chat making you smirk.
“Well, you are good.”
You send him a smirk and collect the spoils of your kill, mostly a few potions and the iron blade, tossing a few of the former to your teammate and splashing a speed potion on yourself.
With practiced movements you begin to build to the middle islands, your teammate throwing the occasional snowball at any approaching enemy players, even knocking one off their bridge. The message of their death rings in the chat, being the fifth elimination.
The chests there contain better loot, even a diamond sword and chestplate, a strength II potion and a Power I bow with fifteen arrows. You take the bow and chestplate (with permission from your teammate, who gladly takes the sword and potion) and book it to the center chests, almost laughing at the amount of snowballs and arrows lying there.
“Well, I’m not complaining,” you muse.
You hear a yell of your tag, quickly spinning around to block the swing of an enchanted axe, their teammate quickly turning to gang up on you after finishing off another person.
Great. You’re fighting two people now.
Swing, duck, dodge, swipe, duck, swipe, block—shit, you got stabbed! Two hearts disappear from your health bar, sending a flurry of curses flying from your lips.
But luckily, your teammate is fast enough to eliminate the weaker of the two.
The tables turn.
The clash of blades, splash of potions and grunts of pain quickly move to the edge of the center island. It’s two verses one now, and the three of you are the last competitors in the match.
Block the swing, return the blow, duck, block, dodge—
A sudden stab in your shoulder alerts you to an arrow stuck in the skin there, slowly depleting your health.
It’s merely a distraction.
The enemy player barrels into you, sending you stumbling backwards right at the edge of crumbling gravel.
Poison becomes your downfall.
The smack of another half heart.
As one last resort, you grip onto the block with one hand, the other dangling with your bow into the void. Gritting your teeth, you do your damndest to drag yourself up, the poison wreaking havoc through your body and strength.
Shit. I’m not going to survive this, am I?
The one-handed grip on your bow tightens, nocked arrow slipping between your dirt-covered fingers.
You make a decision.
Just as the enemy player comes over, smirking but low on health, you let go of the block, drawing your arrow back as you fall into the void.
The broadhead meets its mark just in time, signalling a victory with a dragon appearing underneath you right before you hit the death line. A sigh of relief escapes your lips; you direct the dragon upwards with a rush of gratefulness soaring through your body. Respawning isn’t a pleasant process.
Twenty or so seconds later, you appear back in the lobby with your teammate at your side. The lobby is nearly empty, only a few people milling around, most having traveled elsewhere or checked into a tavern or hotel.
“You’re good. We could use you on our side.”
“ ‘We’?”
Two other figures appear out of seemingly nowhere, one wearing white-rimmed black sunglasses with a blue hoodie, the other a bandana and a white hoodie with flames on the front of it.
Your fingers twitch at your sides, calling up a portal in your mind, ready to dash through it at the slightest hint of a threat. Sparks form by your palms, their signature color drawing the leader’s attention.
“Calm down. I have no interest in killing you.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” you retort. “Three versus one isn’t exactly fair y’know.” The sparks grow brighter; though they are primarily used to call up portals, they can deal quite a blow to anyone who forcefully comes into contact with them.
Dream (you now read off his nametag, getting sick of referring to him by random aliases) extends a hand in front of his body. Something hovers in it, glowing a soft white and reading something you can’t quite make out.
“It’s not going to kill you.”
Bandanna laughs at that.
“Reassuring,” you snap, taking a closer look at it.
Invitation: Dream SMP
Active?: Yes
Expires: Never
Taken aback, you sputter out a few jumbled sentences before asking why they’d invite you of all people. Sure, you may be okay at Skywars, but that doesn’t warrant an invitation to literally the most exclusive server in the network.
“Uh—what?”
You take a quick glance at the two others, noting their tags are red and white as well, reading Sapnap and Georgenotfound.
“You don’t have to accept.” Dream steps forward to set the glowing orb in your hands. “Just know that we picked you for a very good reason.
How… interesting.
“Is it ‘cause I’m an inactive Crasher?”
The three stiffen at the moniker used for the infamous Jumpers, the ones who figure out ways around the system, the lines of fate that make up the different servers, finding loopholes that not even the best Mender can. They exploit them, gaining almost god-like abilities on the server only to wreak absolute anarchy on the infrastructure until the admin can step in, if they haven’t been eliminated from the system or perma-killed already.
From what little you know about the Dream SMP, you know the admin is a god of sorts, mostly staying out of the way but occasionally fixing matters that need it. Otherwise they stay… wherever gods stay.
“No,” George pipes up. You note his accent, odd and slightly out of place, but not unpleasant. “You being a Jumper does help, however.”
You’ve heard of elusive servers where Jumpers have access to a lot of power and near-unlimited resources, though no one can quite figure out why. Those servers are typically entirely anarchy.
“Yeah, sure.” But you clutch the invitation closer to your person anyway. It glows a bit brighter at the increased contact.
“Think on it.”
Those words echo through your mind throughout the rest of the night, in your bed, subconsciously in your dreams and into the next morning.
It’s no easy decision. You know you’ll be dragged into all sorts of politics, conflict and battles unlike the Skywars ones you usually find yourself dealing with.
Your hand grips the glowing ball a bit tighter, reading the same three statements engraved on it repeatedly until the words are branded into your mind.
And then it disappears.
“Invitation accepted.”
205 notes · View notes
scriptaed · 3 years
Text
bygones of the sun. 09 (m)
Tumblr media
genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au
pairing: reader x hoseok;
length: 5.5k;
synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.
Moonlight bellows in the background of the warm, golden-lit room—crashing and seceding, crashing and seceding, repeatedly colliding against the jagged rocks by the cliff like tidal waves out at sea in the deep sway of the black night. Under the hypnosis of the jet-black skies absent of the charming twinkling of the stars, you had somehow stumbled through the retreat to your room. You aren’t exactly sure what you had seen—and perhaps, out of consideration for your well-being, you simply don’t want to nor need to comprehend your sightings—but the glutinous image of the broken boy sticks to your chest akin to a dark secret weighing heavy on a sinner’s heart.
And somehow, amidst the long night looming ahead of you, the spur of emotions sweeps you before the door of his room.
Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat and whisper hesitantly next to the wooden frame, “...Hoseok?”
In the red-carpeted hall where dozens of fellow camp attendees rest until the next sunrise, you stand there wondering if Jimin had mistyped the captain’s room number on the emergency flyers. The overwhelming guilt of having pushed Hoseok to his breaking point, albeit unknowingly, had forced the heavy footsteps of yours to this very spot, but now that you’re faced with silence as an answer, you figure perhaps it isn’t in your fate to confront him tonight; it would be the easier way out, at least, for irrationality had bewitched you and plans on what to even say were the last things on your mind… until now.
Subconsciously, your knuckles meet the cold wax finish of his door once again.
One knock, two knocks, and alas, a sigh.
Your hands drop to your sides in defeat, despite regretting your rash decision which had brought you here in the first place. You glimpse around to ensure that the coast was clear, and when the last sigh escapes your lips and the balls of your feet pivot to your left, only then does the door swing wide open.
“What do you want?”
Whirling around, you find Hoseok standing aside where one arm leans against the door frame and the other hides behind the door, clutching the gold handle. As you gaze at him in silence, too taken aback to make your next move, Hoseok stands there, heavy-lidded and jaws clenched, disgruntled by your late night appearance.
The uninviting glare of his elicits the uncomfortable shift in place of your footsteps. It’s a rare moment for goosebumps to rise and chest to constrict when in the presence of someone as playful and flirtatious as Hoseok, but the sudden cold mien of his persona now conveys to you that you’re not welcome here tonight.
“I… I was just…” your eyes dart to the floor as your mind crashes into auto-pilot, searching for any form of excuse other than the truth too unready to be exposed, “I couldn’t fall asleep. So—”
“—you could’ve texted me,” he refutes, brows furrowing, but all your eyes are fixated on are what appears to be beads of sweat dripping from his damp bangs. And when he notices the softening of your wandering eyes, his voice nearly drowns in the waves of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the buzz of the vending machine which shrills in your eardrums to this very second.
From the tee which drapes his upper body and his sweatpants which masks the witnessed scene weighing heavy in your heart, everything about him now would serve as the perfect facade of a normal captain disturbed from his sleep. But at least he's still up, at least he's still trying, at least he answered your call.
You want to believe he’s okay again, that everything you had seen was just a misunderstanding, but something tells you the sun won't be rising again after tonight, and that very thought plagues you of your sleep.
A few seconds pass as you scan him over in a confusing mixture of both disbelief and relief, when Hoseok half scoffs and half chuckles, frowning at your expression, “is something bothering you? You look like you're almost glad to see me for once.”
“...why are you sweating?” you blurt, his words completely missing you as your eyes fixates on the beads of liquid plastered across his temples and trapped in his brows.
“Sweat…?” Hoseok arches a concerned brow before pressing his lips into a thin line. “This isn't sweat… I just got out of the shower. What makes you think that, though?”
Your lips part, but silence ensues when you realize neither you nor him seemed prepared enough to tackle the true reason as to why you're here.
“Nothing… really. It was just the first thing which came to mind.”
Hoseok nods, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the conversation comes to an abrupt end. “So…” he drawls, “what do you need?”
“I didn't need anything, per se,” you emphasize, eyes averting to the side and away from his watchful gaze, “I just… wanted to talk. I didn't get to talk to you much today.”
Usually, at a point like this, Hoseok would tease you; “someone's a bit needy today, and I know you're pure and untainted and all, but shouldn't you at least know not to come begging for attention to a guy's room at midnight”—is what he would've said, but tonight, the tidal waves under the wavering moon dictates otherwise.
“Look, Y/N,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans his entire weight against the doorframe, “I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I want to be alone.”
But does he? Because the gleam in his softened eyes, the windows to his soul, are begging you to accompany him through the long night.
“Are you… okay, Hoseok?” you ask, brows cinching in concern.
He flinches, but his brows immediately lift to mask the initial response. “...yeah,” he finally says after a long pause, taking a deep breath and sighing, eyes never budging from yours, “...I'm fine. Now go sleep if you're done badgering me.”
“Okay… you should sleep, too.”
“Yeah,” he utters under his breath, eyes glued to the ground as he mumbles, “I'll try.”
“Try…?”
“I have a lot of things on my mind and decisions to make tonight,” he explains with a final sigh, the void in his eyes lifting to meet yours once again, and you don't notice until now the purple-blue dark circles which only emphasizes the absence of his usual vigor. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”
And ever so quietly, as if none of the conversation had taken place under the mist of the night perched high up on the mountains, the door closes on you, and the walls between you and Hoseok become thicker than ever.
You can't tell what's on his mind. You can't even tell what's on your own mind. All you can convey is the sheer dejection, the unusual lethargy radiating from Hoseok akin to a captain too prideful to allow his pupils to witness his own cracks and falls.
You're partially responsible for this—no, somehow your mind had convinced you that you're the one completely responsible for this. If you hadn't pushed him to return, maybe things wouldn't have gotten this far. You had reopened a wound like ripping stitches off a gash still in the process of rehabilitation.
And sometimes, wounds of seconds can inflict more pain than its first and leave deeper scars than the past itself.
You're guilty as charged, and you want to fix things now, but the unwelcoming tone of tonight's conversation tells you it might just be too late. If you've acknowledged your mistakes but the other is unwilling to receive your sympathy, what else are you supposed to do?
You had hated the new Hoseok for laying the death of the old, but now that you stand here before his guarded walls and closed door, maybe things would've been better the way they were before.
But that thought finds you as ridiculous, and the very fact that a part of you still wants to aid him in rediscovering your first love at the expense of the person he is now, finds you even more horrendous.
For now, a shower is the only concoction for such a plague.
-
Water beads drip from the ends of your hair to the cottons of the white towel hanging from your neck. A rush of goosebump inducing air envelops you the second your right foot meets the carpet beyond the bathroom tiles. Besides the remaining drip drops of the water draining in the bathtub behind you, all that is left in the sanctuary of your room is what should have been silence.
Because you can still hear the buzz of the vending machine, the familiar squeaks of sneakers, and worst of all, his wincing breaths endowed with despair still echo in the back of your mind—gradually quickening and crescendoing into a chaos of a symphony without its conductor until everything collapses, the squeaks and the huffs replaced by the ominous buzz of the machine.
As you run through your hair and turn your back on the door to further bury yourself in the depths of your sanctuary, a sudden rise of events interrupts the temporary serenity with the strike of fear into your racing heart.
A series of slurred knocks—two loud, quick knocks followed by one hesitant bump of the knuckles—elicits a ring in your ear as you cautiously turn on the balls of your feet to face the door head on.
The numbers 1:15 A.M. blink in red digital font from the desk beside your bed.
Who could possibly be visiting you at this time of the night?
“Y/N?”
The familiar voice strained with lethargy finally announces after a sigh, and as if reciting words to a spell of witch craft, your heart stills and your body freezes… because did you really just hear Hoseok? Outside your room? The one who had just turned you away without a blink of the eye?
Even with the mess of your mental state after finally digging up the answer you had been searching for all along, the only and greatest fear which plagues you now is the thought of whether the victim, Jung Hoseok, had somehow caught onto you preying upon his darkest of secrets.
After half a minute of silence, Hoseok sighs once again with a groan, “I’m not here to mess around with you if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m on duty for patrolling tonight, and I noticed your light was on. Now open up, would you?”
The walk to your door seems to take you centuries, because the second your hand pushes the handle even an inch down, the door swings wide open to reveal the rather irritated, profusely impatient boy standing on the other side.
“Could you be any slower?” he remarks, eyes peering down at you, unamused. “You’re even slower than me and I worked out more than…”
His white tee shifts underneath his crossed arms as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. The intensity of his eyes with bags and dark circles drooping below elicits a shift in your own body of discomfort. Your own eyes retreat to the ground when his brows cinch and you can tell he’s scanning you over, just seconds away from catching you red-handed.
“...w-what? Can you  stop staring at me like that?” 
“What? I’m not checking you out or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hoseok scoffs for a fleeting second before silence befalls his lips—and suddenly, the warmth of his hands radiate from your cheeks. A lock of your hair lies in the palms of his long, delicate fingers just barely grazing your cheeks, and it doesn’t take you very long to hastily cover your reddening ears and cheeks with your dampened towel. He frowns, not at your sheepish behavior, but for the wet strands of hair which are all that he fixates on, “did you just work out or something?”
Shouldn't you be the one asking him that? It's as if the irony of his actions is his own method of begging to be exposed without having to come out and ask for it himself.
“No,” you retort, scrunching your face at the absurdity of his suggestion.
Just as you’re about to pull away from his touch, Hoseok retracts his hands from the proximity of your cheeks before what would usually be another one of his mischievous acts; and as much as his sneaky pecks and meaningless affection had once infuriated you, it’s hard to admit how empty you now feel in the absence of its wake. His retreat made of his own will is a first for you.
“Then why are you showering at 1 A.M. in the morning?” he cocks his head with a raised brow.
“Says you—”
“—but at least I have an excuse. I was busy cleaning up after practice,” he retorts and shifts his weight to his other leg, musing, “you, on the other hand…”
“B-Because…” you cross your arms and shoot him the most annoyed glare you could muster; while meeting and comforting him were all that shrouded your mind just a few minutes ago, seeing him in a completely fine state like this is enough to put you to peace and shoo him away for now. “...I slept through the entire day and forgot to shower.”
“...okay,” his lips pressed into a frown gradually bursts into a large grin plastered with second hand embarrassment. “While you kept nagging at me to ‘attend dance camp’ and pick up dancing again, which I so dutifully obliged to tonight, you hide yourself in the corner of your room and sleep the day away?”
“Oh, shut up. It's not like I'm an actual dancer like you—” you roll your eyes before stopping mid-sentence; was that too insensitive of you to say considering the struggles Hoseok seemed to be going through? Clearing your throat, you lift your head high and sigh, “so what’re you doing here? I thought you were busy thinking the night away.”
“Like I said, I'm on patrol tonight. Are you even listening to me or are you to busy fantasizing about all the things we could've been doing in my room right now?” he teases and gently knocks his knuckles on your head.
His entire demeanor had reverted to his usual self, and as concerning as it is to wonder whether this is all an act too painful to witness yourself, you're glad to see him joking around again, even if it's forced.
“No, that's the last thing on my mind, but I guess it's not the same case for someone here,” you roll your eyes.
In retaliation to your indifferent attitude, Hoseok leans against the doorframe with a scoff, pulling you back in as you pushed him out. “Like I said, Ms. I Like To Break Rules Because I’m Dating the Captain, you’re supposed to be asleep by now.”
“I’ll turn off my lights after I blow dry my hair, Mr. Ex Dance Captain—” you bite your tongue when you notice the twitch in his darkened eyes and hardened jaw “—I mean, I'm not dating you.”
At this point, you’re not even sure how to address his relationship with dance, if you should even do so at all.
“So, if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, giving him one last pressed smile and stepping back to close the door; but before you could do so, Hoseok swiftly juts a foot out to interevene, and a simple question ensues.
“What? You don’t want me here?”
All efforts to protest dissipate when he turns his head to face you and lets out a scoff in disbelief, eyes completely empty, and you nearly have to lean in to catch his next words.
“You’re always so cold to me,” he lets out a soft laugh and cracks the most reluctant of grins. “Why do I even bother being disappointed at this point?”
A few seconds of tense silence goes by before it occurs to you what he had just said.
For once, he actually cares about what you say? He’s taking your meaningless banters to heart?
“I’m turning off my lights now,” you frown at him, but his attention remains elsewhere, “isn’t that what you came here to do?”
“You really...” he scoffs and lifts his head, eyes piercing yours and opening the window to his souls; shaky, colorless, lost and infuriated by the calamity of the world before him, in the world you present him. “...do you really think I came here just for that? I could care less what time you sleep.”
“O-Okay…” you stutter; you know there isn’t anything to be hurt over, because what he’s saying has made you believe is of the utmost truth, but the unusually blunt implications of his disingenuity comes on all too harsh.
His constant switch in demeanor is all too confusing to keep up with tonight, and quite frankly, you don't know how to read him anymore, as if you ever could.
His lips part, words of apology ready to be uttered, and his eyes soften in worry for a swift second, but when the clock ticks twice, his jaw hardens the invisible wall built between the two of you.
And for the first time in a while, he’s actually acting like the infamous reputation he had been endowed; because he doesn’t apologize, and now your guts begin to twist and turn, wondering whether you had done something wrong.
Was he in a bad mood because of what you had seen just half an hour before? Should you confront him about it? Should you comfort him? Would words of encouragement even help? Is that what he’s asking for?
Is that the true reason as to why he’s here? Is he… asking for help?
“I’m here to check up on your ankle.”
His mumbling interrupts the internal war fared between two hidden motivations; defeat is all that reigns in the realm of tonight—you, unable to decipher his code, and him, unable to send you such codes.
The mention of your momentarily forgotten injury brings a crease between your brows, “my ankles are fine.”
“Don’t make this harder than it already is for me, your highness,” he refutes with a pressed, unamused smile.
“But it really is fine—” you stop mid-sentence when you notice Hoseok taking a deep breath, chest struggling to rise while constricting the impatience and whatever else remains buried from within.
Please let me in, his eyes scream.
Your feet stumbles as they shuffle backwards, and in response, he takes one swift, large stride forward. The door shuts behind him, and suddenly, the room seems significantly more lackluster than before.
“What if someone sees us?” your fear translates into words.
“Should’ve worried about that earlier, don’t you think?” he flatly remarks, cocking his head to the side.
“...but,” you frown and shake your head, “what if they spread rumors about you entering my room?”
He snorts and rolls his eyes before returning the look of impertinence to you, “haven’t they already spread rumors about us? We literally made out at the pool last night. And who cares what they say? I’m tired of giving a shit about them. All it does is burden you.”
“Burden…” your mind subconsciously slips the words into formation when your eyes naturally trail from his gray sweatpants and up to his white tee where beads of water drip from his drenched bangs. “...hey, Hoseok, why haven't you dried your hair yet?”
He couldn't have possibly went out to practice again, could he?
“My hair…?” his brows cinch as his hands find their way to twirl the wet locks in between his fingers and his eyes light up before settling into a frown once again. “Ah… but first, why are you so concerned for me tonight?”
“Maybe because I was kind enough to let you in my room and that's the least you could do…?”
“But I’m the captain. I’m the one in charge,” he quickly quips. You can see the tip of his tongue running across the inner walls of his mouth from the protrusion of his cheeks and his hardened jaw, as if preparing for a fight. “So, technically, I do have the rights to be here, because you broke the rules. If you don’t want to see me, maybe you should turn off your lights next time.”
His sudden defense rubs you the wrong way when you scoff, “captain? Huh, funny, because I seem to recall a certain someone getting all pissed off at me because I begged them to come here in the first place.”
“What?” he asks in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at you.
“It’s really not that big of a deal. Why are you being so aggravated today? Are you scared to tell me the truth? That you’re playing around and checking in on me to pretend and act like you’ve been up hard at work all day? So you can continue playing around with me without having to hear me nag at you?”
You just want him to be honest with himself, and more so with you, and maybe you aren’t approaching it the right way, but you simply don’t understand how to fix the dent in Hoseok’s enclosed heart.
“What?” he repeats, the fury in his boiling blood exuding from his step forward and your step back. “I’m doing my job here, aren’t I? I’m guiding us through the camp, I’m teaching you guys how to dance, I’m even out here past midnight patrolling as a captain should! So how am I anything but a captain?”
Buzz, sneakers, collision, and buzz—the entire sequence washes onto shore once again from the back of your mind, blaring at you as if to tell you to back down.
He continues to take steps forward, forcing you to retreat backwards into the depths of your room.
“I didn't mean it like that…” you mumble, taking another step back until your heels hit the drawer and the back of your head bumps into the TV behind you.
Hoseok steps one intimidating stride forward, arms gripping at the drawer on either side of you and entrapping you in his field of control. He gives you one long, hard stare, and as uncomfortable as it is, something tells you there would be serious repercussions if you looked away.
“No, but it sure does feel like it and it confuses me,” he retorts lowly, “so tell me, Y/N, why are you so concerned for me all of a sudden?”
His watchful eyes and parted lips pray for the hopes that you had seen him, that he had finally found someone who knew the true him, but you don't want to and you can't possibly reopen his wound. You know it would hurt him all too much.
So you keep silent, just as he has all along
“...you’ll wake them if you yell any louder,” you mumble, looking off to the side in dejection.
But his warm hands cup the cold surface of your chin damp from your shower, turning you until your gaze has returned to meet his.
“Stop making excuses. You know they can't hear us,” he lowly utters. “What did you even think I was doing anyways?”
“I-I don't know. I was just asking what you’ve been doing. It’s not that hard of a question,” you mumble. “You can lie to me, even, if you want.”
“No,” he shakes his head, keeping his fingertips grazing against your chin. “I want to hear your guesses.”
You gulp, diverting from his piercing gaze, “I don't know…”
“You seemed to have a pretty good guess just a minute ago,” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just say it. I dare you to.”
I dare you to say it, but I doubt you can, because I doubt you even know, his leer screams.
“...maybe you had a girl over in your room or something…”
You know that's not the case, or at least you hope, but that's the most believable guess you could muster other than outright accusing him of his late night practices sessions.
“You think that I'd let another girl other than you into my room? Who do you take me for?” he scoffs, even chuckles. “Ah, you're too cute.”
He doesn't mean it, you tell yourself, you can't believe him and you can't fall for this specific trick because you know that's exactly what he wants to distract you from the pain hidden beneath that flirtatious crooked smile of his.
You frown, “quit playing and let me go...”
“Just one more question,” he laughs for a brief second, silence failing for a tense minute before finally asking in the lowest of voices, “can I kiss you?”
“W-What?”
“I mean, last time I was so congested and upset with these dark thoughts of mine that I forgot to even ask you for permission before I forced myself on you. Two elements of a great kiss are consent and surprise, remember? I think I got the surprise part down judging by the look on your face,” he smirks, but all you can do is stare at him in silence.
It's not like you're opposed to the idea of kissing him, per se, but you're against sharing such an intimate moment when you know he would just be using you like alcohol as a way to temporarily numb the pain.
But should you go ahead and let him? If something as trifling as this could even relieve him of the pain, should you give him what he wants?
“Are you… lonely? Are you upset over something? Can't I help you?”
Several seconds of silence passes by until you hear him chortle with a sigh, his arms dripping from your sides and releasing you from his grasp as he brushes by your shoulder and heads toward your bed. “I was just joking around with you. Don't look at me like that, it hurts me too, you know? I didn’t come here to argue anyways, ” he remarks, lightening up the mood. “I just forgot to dry my hair, that’s all. Do you have any snacks in your fridge?”
Nonchalantly, Hoseok plops onto your mattress without further permission, but all you could notice is the slight limping in his walk; if anyone else had watched his strides, including you from the past, no one would have suspected a thing, but now that you’ve discovered his secret, the uneven footsteps of his are all too glaring.
With his head against his hand propped by an elbow against one of your two pillows, Hoseok grins at you with an arched brow and a hand tapping on the sweatpants concealing the swelling of his leg.
“...no,” you finally answer, walking a few steps forward into the room to lean against the corner wall next to the lower side of your bed. You cross your arms and continue, “why would I bring food for a three night trip?”
“Ah, I forgot this is only for three nights. I see,” he nods, pursing his lips and turning to lie on his back with his head nestled into your pillow. The fingers of one of his hands drum against his stomach as the other props above his shoulders and under his neck.
The buzzing of your empty fridge stimulates you to memories you don’t want to revisit, but the overwhelming silence seems to be the motif of tonight and you just don’t know how to fix it; yet the longer he stares emptily into the ceiling above, the more curious you become.
“Hoseok?”
“Hm?” he hums without budging his eyes from the ceiling.
“What’re you thinking about?”
A few seconds pass by before he takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, his chest noticeably rising and sinking underneath his water-drenched tee.
“Truthfully, I actually came here after you left because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone tonight. I was wrong to shut you out,” he confesses; but when you’re left staring at him in utter, shock, Hoseok finally breaks his gaze from the ceiling to meet your gaping expression with a chuckle. “It’s a joke, Y/N. I’m a lonely person, just like you said, remember?”
“Being lonely isn’t a joke…” you grumble, uncrossing your arms and walking over to gently seat yourself beside him in bed.
You’re expecting some teasing remark for supposedly joining him in bed, but what you don’t expect is what slips from his lips instead.
“Have you ever wanted something so bad that it’s all you come to know, but the second you get it, it turns out to be the only thing you can’t have? It just… it doesn’t love you back. I’m the only one trying at this point.”
“Like what…?” you hesitantly ask.
“Like you,” he swiftly answers, turning his head to shoot you a lopsided grin.
Everything comes crashing down into a full circle once it finally clicked for you: dance; dance is the unrequited love for Hoseok, and you were just one of the many replacements to allow him to forget what he had lost.
The thought irks you the wrong way, and as much as you want to console him, the teasing relationship you two have established does not exactly authorize for such a moment.
“But you never got me in the first place,” you snort.
Hoseok blinks blankly at your words before scoffing in disbelief, turning his head and smirking with the shake of his head, “go dry your hair before you get sick, you cold-hearted woman.”
“No, I can’t leave you unattended in my bed!”
“I won’t stay here overnight, alright,” Hoseok rolls his eyes while cracking a smile. “So stop worrying and go or you’ll get a cold.”
“Psh, fine,” you huff, getting up from your bed; but before you could depart to the bathroom, Hoseok’s hands grip onto your hands only to pull you back into bed beside him. You sigh, turning your back to glare at the blank look on his face, “do you want me to stay or not?”
“Y/N,” he ignores you and proceeds with his question, looking you straight in the eye, “what would you do if I said I still wanted to quit dance? If I said this entire trip only reminded me of why I hated it so much in the first place? What would you do?”
Your eyes grow wide; he’s practically asking you upfront about his inner true conundrums, and this time, you’re going to make things right again.
“I would support you no matter what. If dancing isn’t what you want, then I’m fine with it,” you answer. “I kissed you so you would come to camp. That’s all I bargained for, and that’s all I’m asking for.”
Hoseok stares at you for several seconds in silence before scoffing and tossing your hand to the side, “I came here for an answer, but now you’re just confusing me.”
“What?”
“Go dry your hair already. Your hands are cold,” he states, turning his head away from you. “I won’t be able to kiss you anymore if you get sick.”
Glaring at him from his back, you oblige to his demands and retreat to the safety of your washroom. While drying your hair, you spend all your time scrambling for something to say, to fill in the conversation, to keep you from the pounding white noise of sneakers and buzz, but most importantly, to keep him from the ill reminder of his downfall.
Yet, all is in vain, when you return to your room to find him asleep.
Sighing, you tiptoe your way to lie down in the bed right beside him. With your head cupped in your hands propped on the mattress by your elbow, you lean just a bit forward to catch a glimpse of his dozing expression. Only in his slumber is he relinquished of all worries. The crease between his brows has vanished, and the frown he had constantly worn in the corner of his lips had dissipated along with it. Finally, he is at peace and solace.
“You see, Hoseok, the thing about life is that it constantly challenges us to new obstacles… kind of like what you’re doing to me right now,” you chuckle to yourself and brush the fallen streaks of hair off his forehead and to his temples, “but you’re strong enough to overcome it, and as long as you have someone beside you the entire time, everything will turn out just right. You are loved, you just don’t know it.”
And with that, you lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.
It’s the first time he ever failed to smirk after a kiss shared between the two of you.
With the official set of the sun ironically at the rise of dawn, an epiphany strikes you at 2 AM in the depths of your room where Hoseok lies asleep beside you.
Some secrets are meant to be kept hidden, some wounds are never meant to be revived; and so, instead of hurting and turning him away, you’ve agreed to be his sanctuary for just tonight.
Jimin [2:23 A.M.] Hoseok? No... he’s not supposed to be on patrol. I am.
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keanureevesisbae · 3 years
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But professor… - c.4
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Summary: Penny is going to see her professor for the first time again after they kissed.
Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)
Wordcount: 5.1k
Warnings: Thunderstorms (?)
Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter
The next day it’s time for my criminology class, the first one I’ll have after our kiss. I haven’t spoken to Walter since the kiss, because a) it was literally yesterday and b) after I told him I was going to bed, I actually went to bed and fell asleep.
To make matters even worse, our meeting isn’t even gonna be in a private setting.
It’s in lecture hall setting.
Despite me falling asleep not long after I arrived home, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Since I was hungry, I decided to have some late night snacks, but I am incapable of eating normally, because I totally spilled some sauce on Walter’s sweater.
In other words: I had a little early morning laundry moment.
With Walter’s sweater neatly folded in my backpack, I take a deep breath for some encouragement, as I walk into the lecture hall. There are already around ten other students in their seats and Walter sits on the edge of his table, as he reads through his notes. He looks up, but his expression barely changes. Emphasis on barely. There is a slight shift in his eyes, but it’s hardly noticeable if you don’t know him that well. ‘Morning, miss Townsend.’
Like nothing ever happened between us.
‘Good morning, sir,’ I say, before walking up to my assigned seat. I should not let out a sigh of relief, but I still do. I tell myself I shouldn’t be this nervous, however it’s an impossible task. My leg moves up and down in a restless pace and my jaw is painfully clenched.
I try my best, but it is out of question to focus on the entire class. Thankfully, Walter must’ve noticed that my brain is everywhere but in this class, because he doesn’t call out my name once. For the first time in forever I don’t have any questions about the assignment, so when a few other students hang around after class, I manage to sneak passed them and make my way to the library.
My brain really is malfunctioning, because I keep staring at my screen, unable to do anything slightly productive. I look into my backpack, to see Walter’s sweater. About an hour has passed and maybe… Maybe I could bring it to him now?
I grab my phone and decide to just send him a text. I can take the first step after yesterday, right? I’m a big girl.
Me: Can I come over to your office now?
I don’t get an answer straight away, which is only fueling up the doubt that has been brewing inside my heart. Not quite the big girl after all.
What if he thought this was a mistake? Oh shit, the kiss was terrible, he hated it and I should therefore never ever kiss again!
My breathing stops when I see his answer.
Walter: Of course, princess 💕
I swallow hard. This is a good sign, right? The heart emoji and the nickname that led me to internally screaming all night indicate he didn’t think the kiss was terrible, what we did wasn’t a mistake and that we should totally kiss again.
Right?
The hallways are empty, as a lot of people are already back at their dorms due to the bad weather that is forecasted for later today. Normally, I would do the same, but I think I lingered around campus, so I had a chance of talking to Walter. I walk towards his office and knock on his door. I hear a deep and annoyed: ‘Come in’ and I take it as my cue to open the door.
‘Hello,’ I say, ‘you sure I can come in?’
He looks up from his desk and smiles. Small crowfeet appearing near the corners of his eyes, a tiny bit of evidence that he is genuinely happy to see me. ‘Of course Penny,’ he says, standing up from his seat. He walks towards the corner of his office, lifting some stuff up,  to reveal a chair. He places it on the other side of his desk. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he says, holding out his hand.
All of this trouble for me? ‘I wasn’t planning on staying long.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says, waiting for me to take place on the chair and I quickly do so. When he sits on his own chair again, he asks: ‘How are you?’
That’s such a sweet and darling question of him. ‘I’m okay. I just came by to give you your sweater back.’ I pull it out of my bag and say: ‘Thank you for lending it to me.’
He nods. ‘Of course.’
‘I washed it,’ I add, ‘since I kinda dropped some hot sauce on it. I hope you like my laundry detergent.’
I hand it over the table to him and he presses his nose against the fabric. ‘It smells great, thanks.’
I smile at him, since I can’t really stop it. He is so different around me, then he is when he’s a professor. There is no annoyance, no boredom. Only adoration if I’m correct. It feels good to be on the receiving end of it. ‘That was all actually. For once I don’t have questions.’
‘I see,’ Walter says. ‘You got a lot of work to do?’
I shake my head. ‘No, not really. Just your class.’
He chuckles. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Anyways, I should go. I have a few things I have to pick up from the grocery store anyway. Forgot some things yesterday,’ I say.
Walter nods. ‘Of course.’ While I said I should go, I can’t seem to stand up. Walter tilts his head and asks: ‘What’s wrong, princess?’
‘Nothing,’ I whisper.
‘Is it… The kiss?’ he carefully asks. ‘Because if it is, I have to apologize. I was crossing multiple lines with that.’
I shake my head. ‘No, Walter, don’t worry about it. I enjoyed it. It’s just… It was my first kiss.’
His eyes enlarge, nearly rolling out of his sockets. The surprised emotion is one I haven’t seen with him in real life. I actually thought nothing could startle him. ‘Your first kiss?’ he repeats. A few seconds pass by slowly as he runs his fingers through his disheveled curls. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
I shrug again. ‘I don’t know. It didn’t seem relevant.’
He sighs. ‘I’m so sorry, princess.’
‘There is nothing to worry about. If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad this was my first kiss.’
He leans back in his seat. ‘Penelope Townsend,’ he says, with a slight smile on his lips. ‘You’re quite something.’
Oh shit, he uses my full name. That… That can’t be good, right? Panic is taking over and I quickly say: ‘I really have to go.’ I grab my backpack and shoot out of his little office space, not even waiting for him to say something.
My brain is fried.
On autopilot, I managed to find my way to the grocery store, where I buy more instant noodles. I don’t know why, but I even grab some hair products for Walter. It’s getting ridiculous that I’m actually going to buy this, but on the other hand, he told me I could help him out with those slightly dry locks of his.
I spend little to no time in my dorm, because I am unable to stop thinking about Walter. I shouldn’t have left like that, I think to myself. He now must think I don’t like him, when in reality: I like him a lot.
As I am pacing through the room, nearly ripping out my hair out of pure frustration, I hear the rain against the window. It’s mild,  especially if you compare it to the forecasted weather. I check my weather app and realize that with this type thunderstorm, I really don’t want to be alone here.
Without even thinking about the pros and cons of this plan, I pack some stuff I need and when I walk outside, the bus to his place is thankfully already there. The clouds are turning a darker shade of grey, as I’m hopelessly walking around the block after I got off the bus. My sense of direction is severely lacking and it takes me awhile before I even see his building.
It starts to pour and I turn into a shivering mess. By the time I’m at his door and knocked on it, I realize that I should’ve called.
This, Penelope Townsend, was a very poorly thought out plan. This is terribly rude and there is no turning back now. Oh no, what if he thinks that—
‘Hey,’ Walter says when he opens the door and smiles as he notices it’s me. ‘What are you doing here, princess?’
He doesn’t seem mad, that is a good sign. ‘I am terribly sorry, Walter, I really shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I’m here even. Okay, I do know, because I don’t want to be alone with this weather, but I should’ve at least called you. I mean, you probably aren’t even in the mood to deal with me, which is totally understandable. I’m so sorry, please forget this ever happened and I’ll just go.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ he says, holding my wrist tightly in his large hand, not allowing me to leave. ‘Come in.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m very sure. They say it’s gonna be shitty weather anyway and I’d hate if you had to go back. Besides, you’re soaking wet.’
‘You really sure I’m not bothering you?’ I ask, as he gently pulls me inside, still unsure whether or not I’m welcome.
‘Positive.’ He helps me out of my coat and tells me I can change in the bathroom. He grabs some of his own clothing and hands it to me. ‘Now, I’m gonna tidy up in here a bit,’ he says, ‘because I left some crime scene pictures around.’
I smile as I grab the clothing. ‘I should’ve called,’ I try to sort of apologize again, but he is having none of it.
‘Nonsense,’ he says, ‘you don’t have to call. You are always welcome here.’ He places his hand on my cheek, before pressing a soft kiss on my forehead. ‘Besides, I’m glad you’re here. I kinda missed you.’
I let out a chuckle. ‘Walter, I’m sorry I left your office. I was freaking out.’
‘I know,’ he says. Of course he knew. ‘It’s okay, Penny.’
‘It is?’
He nods. ‘Now get changed, you’re freezing.’
✎ ✎ ✎
After I changed into some of his clothing and hung my own clothes over the heater, I walk back into the living room, only to see him preparing some dinner in the kitchen.
That is such a domestic move.
‘Thank you for letting me stay here,’ I say, causing him to look over his shoulder. ‘I’m not great with this kind of weather.’
‘Figured,’ he chuckles. ‘You’re afraid?’
‘No,’ I answer, as I walk up to the counter. ‘Absolutely not.’ Almost on cue, a loud bang of thunder fills the room, causing me to yelp. ‘Okay, maybe a little.’
Walter starts to laugh. When I’m within arm reach of him, he lifts me up on the counter like I weigh nothing to him. ‘Sit still and be pretty, okay?’
I frown. ‘How am I supposed to be pretty?’
‘By being yourself,’ he says, ‘and smile at me from time to time. Seems doable, right?’
‘I can try,’ I say, a smile already appearing on my face. ‘What are you making?’
‘Some pasta,’ he answers. ‘You like that?’
‘I do,’ I say, pushing my glasses better on my nose. ‘I really do. Especially when someone else makes it. Don’t you have that, when someone else makes the food, it automatically tastes better?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t.’
Leave it to him to be an exception. ‘Why not?’
‘I like making my own food,’ he says.
‘Hm.’ I lean my head back against the cupboard. ‘I really can’t cook well,’ I admit. ‘My mom was always the one that would make my meals back home. I’m a disaster in the kitchen, hence the reason I live on ramen, which I can easily screw up as well.’
Walter smiles, placing one hand on my leg, as he holds a wooden spoon to stir the sauce. ‘Here, taste this,’ he says, grabbing a string of pasta and blows on it so it can cool off a bit. He brings it to my lips and it’s such an automatic move to place my hand on his wrist.
‘It’s good,’ I say.
‘I’ll grab a plate for you. How about you get comfortable on the couch?’
I jump off the counter and walk towards the living room area. His couch looks kinda dull, in a beige tint that reminds me of my grandma’s wardrobe, but don’t be fooled: it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on. I grab a blanket and place it over my lap.
Walter joins me, handing me the plate with pasta and sits next to me. It only takes a second, before I flinch as the thunder is now accompanied by lighting. ‘You’re so easily scared,’ he snickers. Without me doing it on purpose, I scoot closer to him. I know he cannot  psychically protect me against it, but not being alone with weather like this, is a relief itself. ‘Careful, princess,’ he says, ‘it’s hot.’
As we eat in silence, I keep thinking about what I can say to him. ‘I brought some hair stuff with me,’ I say. ‘Bought some today.’
‘For me?’
I nod. ‘For you,’ I confirm. ‘Maybe you want to use it.’
‘Or you use it on me,’ he says. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing anyway.’
As I finish the pasta (which was delicious), he takes the plate from my hands and places it on the coffee table next to his own empty plate. ‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me closer in his warm and protective arms.
I wonder whether or not it’s odd that I’m this comfortable with him this soon. I usually have a warm up period of at least a few weeks when I meet new people. When I worked in a cafe back in Japan during my gap year, it took me a month before I wasn’t painfully shy with some of my coworkers.
But with Walter, I am still shy and sometimes a bit awkward, but it doesn’t feel unpleasant. It’s like he understands and is patient with me.
I place my legs over his and hold his hand in both of mine. My fingers trace over his knuckles, where I notice some slight scarring. ‘How did you get this one?’
‘Bar fight,’ he says, ‘before I joined the academy.’
‘You were that type of guy?’
Walter doesn’t say anything and when I look up, I see he is not even looking at me. He is staring at the window. ‘Yeah, something like that. In case you wondered: he kinda asked for it.’
There is so much I want to ask him. What he was like when he grew up. What he thought of the academy. Interesting cases he solved.
However, a loud bang brutally interrupts my thoughts. At the exact same time, the lights shut off. My breathing stops. Oh no, a power cut? I’m so glad I’m not in my dorm alone. I might’ve called Walter crying, ask him to risk his life so he could pick me up.
Good thing I’m already here.
‘Great,’ he mumbles, turning on the flashlight on his phone. ‘There isn’t much I can do,’ he says, ‘except wait for it to come back. You want me to light some candles?’
I hate the dark this much, that I quickly say” ‘Please.’
He stands up, but I hold on tightly to his hand. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’
‘Can I walk with you?’
‘Of course.’ His fingers lace through mine and together we walk around his loft, looking for the candles and a lighter. We scatter them around the apartment and it gives a soft  and warm ambiance, one that is slightly misplaced here in his loft. I can unclench my jaw from the painful grip and Walter pulls me back on the couch.
‘Did you feel awkward?’ I ask him. ‘In class today?’
He shakes his head. ‘But I know you did.’
I purse my lips together, as I feel completely caught. ‘Was I that obvious?’
‘Not to others, but to me you were.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He shakes his head. ‘Don’t apologize for that. I just wished I knew what I could do for you to feel less awkward about it.’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Never thought my first… Whatever we have, would have to be in secret.’
He sighs, clearly agreeing with me. ‘I wish I could show you off,’ he says. ‘Wish I could tell Fitzgerald to stop ogling you.’
‘He doesn’t do that,’ I say.
Walter scoffs. ‘He totally does. It’s not even subtle anymore.’
I place my head against his chest, melting in his arms. I close my eyes, as I enjoy being engulfed in the warmness and protectiveness of his embrace.
No one has ever held me like this before.
‘Walter, why me?’
‘What?’ he asks.
‘Why are you even paying attention to me? I’m such a nobody.’
‘You’re not a nobody,’ Walter retorts. ‘I like you, Penny. You have an ethereal beauty, combined with an adorable and kind nature. It’s so rare to meet someone like you. I see that there is so much potential in you, no matter what you choose later on in life. It’s just that you don’t know it yet, which is such a shame really. Besides, princess, I’m not risking my job for simply anyone.’
As much as him being my professor should turn me away from it all, should make me walk towards the door and not associate myself with him anymore, I don’t feel that way. Part of me wants to hide my smile, but I can’t. ‘I kinda like you too.’
‘Just kinda?’ he asks, pretending to be offended. ‘What can I do to change that?’
I smile. ‘Kiss me again.’
He doesn’t answer, simply leaning towards me to press his soft lips on mine. One of hands squeezes my thigh, as I wrap my arms around his neck. It feels so good to kiss him. ‘Can’t believe yesterday was your first kiss,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘You’re quite talented, princess.’
‘I just follow your lead. I think that says more about your kissing skills than mine.’
‘Knew you were an excellent student.’
✎ ✎ ✎
The lights aren’t restored by the time I grow more and more tired. It’s Walter actually that tells me to go to bed. When I’m tucked away underneath the blankets in just his thick sweater, he sits on the edge of the bed. ‘I want you to be honest,’ he says in a stern voice. ‘Do you want me to sleep here or on the couch?’
It’s a sweet thing of him to ask, especially since it did cross my mind a few times. I grab his hand, my thumb caressing his knuckles. ‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.
‘Why are you hesitating?’
‘Because… I don’t want you to think I’m a prude or anything.’
He smiles. ‘Princess, I can sleep on the couch. Don’t worry.’
I blink my eyes a few times, slightly nervous. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘Of course not. Just call for me when you need me, okay?’
‘Okay.’
He gives me a quick and loving kiss on my lips. Checking with me one last time, he carefully makes his way back to the living room. While I can hear him making himself comfortable on the couch, I roll around the bed. There is an inability of mine to fall asleep, something I barely encounter. There is this annoying, but also terrifying ticking like sound  against the window and I can’t wrap my mind around it what exactly makes that noise.
The thunder and lightening are dominating the skies and my state of mind.
‘Walter?’ I finally ask him, after rolling around, being all ears and incapable of falling asleep for at least an hour. It takes only a few seconds before he walks into the bedroom. His hair is disheveled and he looks like a sleepy owl in a cartoon. It’s adorable, a word I never expected to use to describe him.
‘What’s wrong, princess?’ he asks me.
‘What is that noise?’
‘Just the water and a branch. It usually taps against the window from time to time.’
‘Oh, okay,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry to wake you.’
‘Don’t be,’ he says. He leans against the doorframe. Despite it being dark, I can still see the contours of his large body. ‘You seem wide awake.’
‘I am,’ I admit. ‘It’s just that I can’t sleep. There is too much noise here I don’t know.’
‘Want me to join you?’
I nod, only to realize he might not be able to see it. ‘Please.’
He walks over to the bed and gets in underneath the covers. I can already feel his warm body heat closer to mine and I hold my breath. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Walter chuckles. ‘It’s just me.’
I can’t stop being “ridiculous”. I mean, I am completely overstepping all sorts of boundaries. I mean, I’m in my professors loft. The same professor who I kissed. Whose clothes I’m wearing.
Who I’m severely falling for.
Walter holds out his arm and I turn to my side, nuzzling against his warm frame. He only wears a simple shirt and a pair of boxers. ‘Why are you shivering?’
‘I’m a little scared.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s just all those new sounds and a different bed,’ I mumble. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You have nothing to worry about,’ he says. I place my chin on his chest. As my eyes get used the dark, I can sort of see more of his face. I don’t have my glasses on, so it stay slightly blurry. ‘Nothing is gonna happen to you now, princess,’ he continues to say. ‘Not when I’m here.’
I smile. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘It’s just all so new to me.’
‘Yet you adapt perfectly fine.’
I bite my bottom lip. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ He places his hand on my cheek and leans a bit forward, planting a soft kiss on my lips. It’s not my plan to deepen the kiss, but when someone’s lips taste this good, of course I don’t mind deepening it. His teeth slowly sink into my bottom lip, careful not to hurt me.
When he lets go of me, his hot breath tickles my already sensitive lips. Walter presses a kiss on my nose and whispers: ‘Go to sleep, princess. You seem tired.’
‘I am,’ I chuckle. ‘Quite the detective you are.’
✎ ✎ ✎
The next morning when I wake up, I’m still engulfed in Walter’s arms. He looks so innocent and vulnerable when he sleeps. His hand has slipped underneath my shirt, his warm palm on my back. For a second, my mind wanders to a time where it’s more than this. More than just a hand on my bare back.
It’s about him seeing me naked, him touching me and whispering sweet nothings in my ears.
It doesn’t take long for Walter to wake up as well and he smiles when he sees I’m already up. ‘I don’t mind waking up like this,’ he admits. ‘Seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning is a lovely surprise.’
Don’t blush, Penny. Don’t you dare blush.
‘Give me a kiss, princess,’ he says.
‘I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,’ I mumble.
‘Doesn’t matter to me.’ He leans in to give me a gentle peck on my lips, followed by a few more. I giggle against him, as his fingers softly—and probably unintentionally—tickle my sides. ‘I’ll go see if the power is back on,’ he says. ‘Want something to eat?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t really matter what.’
Walter kisses me one more time, before he gets up out of bed. It doesn’t take long before I slip out of the bed as well, putting on some socks and sweatpants.
This morning is the prime example of how a domestic couple behaves. I always envied my parents, for being able to find the love of their lives, living according to a certain routine with one another. I remember sitting at the dinner table, watching them dancing in the kitchen as mom would make dinner. I remember sitting in the backseat, hearing my parents sing along with the radio.
They have always been outgoing people, in complete contrast to me. Mom always comforted me telling me that one day I would find my soulmate. Dad always told me that the so called soulmate had to be approved by him.
I wonder what would happen if they found out I met Walter. It’s way too early to think about that, but my brain isn’t stopping this thought process. Especially when Walter lifts me up the counter. When he presses mindless kisses on my forehead. When he lets me use some of the products on his hair. He smiles when I massage his scalp as I’m washing his hair over the stink and use the conditioner on his dry hair.
It’s great to see Walter with his guard a bit down. Allowing me to see who he is hiding when he’s teaching and maybe when he was at work as a detective as well. His touches are soft, are kind and not once is he overstepping. He carefully reads me and my body language.
But at one point, I realize that it’s time for me to go back. My mom used to say to leave a party when it’s still fun, instead of waiting for the awkward moment where you are practically forced to leave after you overstayed.
With his curls nice dried and less frizzy, he drives me back towards the train station and the parking lot and the station itself are almost vacant. People are probably still hiding inside their houses, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of the storm yet.
‘I hate that I have to drop you off here,’ he admits. ‘You have to walk for a while. Wait, I have an idea, you call me as you walk towards your dorm. I’ll leave here when I know you’re safe and sound in your room, okay?’
‘You really don’t have to do that,’ I chuckle. ‘I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.’
‘I know that,’ he says, ‘but I care a little too much about you. I don’t want anything to happen, okay?’
It’s nice to be taken care of like this. I could get used to this. ‘Okay,’ I say, before I give him a kiss. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you too, princess.’ He pulls out his phone and says: ‘I’ll call you in a second.’
A second truly is a second, because my phone rings when I close the door. ‘Really?’ I ask him as I pick up the phone, still being able to see him.
‘Yes, really.’
I wave at him, as I walk towards the dormitory building, which is about a ten minute walk. ‘You have a cute walk,’ he says, when I’m out of sight for him. ‘There’s almost a little skip in it.’
‘Way to make me more self conscious than I already was.’
‘Ah, princess,’ he says, ‘don’t be like that. You have nothing to be self conscious about. You’re beautiful, you’re cute and you are the sweetest thing alive.’
‘Don’t say stuff like that. I’m blushing.’
I can hear his chuckles from the other side of the line. ‘Where are you now?’
‘I can see the dorms already. You really want me to call you until I’m in my room?’
‘Yes.’
I can’t argue with that determination. While I simply chat to him about the damage done by the storm, I see Fitzgerald near the entrance. Great, I really can’t use this now.
‘There she is,’ he says, when I open the door and walk passed him to get inside.
‘Is that who I think it is?’ Walter asks me.
‘Yes.’
‘He does that often?’
Correct me if I’m wrong, but he sounds kinda possessive. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Sugar plum,’ Fitzgerald says as he follows me inside. ‘I have a question for you.’
‘I’m on the phone,’ I tell him, hoping it’s enough for him to get lost. ‘Can’t really wait.’
It seems like he didn’t pick up on the underlying no in my answer. ‘Where have you been?’ Fitzgerald asks me.
My mouth grows dry. Does he know? Have Walter and I not been subtle enough? Oh my gosh, Fitzgerald totally knows. Do not start hyperventilate, stay calm, Penny. ‘Ask him if he’s stalking you,’ I hear Walter’s soft tone in my ear.
That seems doable. ‘You stalking me?’
He must be surprised that those words roll out of my mouth. I mean, I didn’t expect them from me either. ‘No, just wondering. Saw you getting on a bus after class.’
‘He really is stalking you,’ Walter says in my ear.
‘Sounds like you’re stalking me after all.’ Oh my goodness, Penny! What on earth is happening? I don’t know if I was supposed to repeat that.
Fitzgerald is flabbergasted to say the least and he actually walks away. Did I just do that? ‘He’s gone,’ I whisper.
‘That’s my girl,’ Walter chuckles. ‘Proud of you, princess. Asshole really doesn’t take no for an answer. I am tempted to fail him for my class.’
I start to laugh, as I make my way to my dorm. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I hate his guts.’
‘Don’t use the word hate,’ I scold him. ‘Instead, use the word despise.’
‘Not with him, I won’t.’
I quickly walk up the stairs and let out a deep sigh when I’m back in my own dorm. ‘I arrived safe and sound in my room,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you for letting me stay over at your place. I really don’t do well in thunderstorms.’
‘Of course,’ he says, and I can almost hear the grin in his voice. ‘Can’t have you alone during a power cut. Also, it’s quite nice not to be alone.’
A certain vulnerability I was not expecting from him, let alone over the phone. ‘It sure was,’ I agree.
‘I’ll call you later,’ he tells me.
‘Alright, of course.’
‘Take care, princess.’
146 notes · View notes
daegall · 3 years
Text
End of a day
pairing: Na Jaemin x reader
Genre: fluff, angst (?)
🎶: End of a day by Kim Jonghyun
Word count: 2.3k words (more than i planned jgsjjf)
Warnings: umm lots of fluff?? And sad jaemin :((
Network/s: @neoturtles
A/n: JFNSJFBJWBF UGHHHHH TUMBLR 😩😩😩😩 STOP BEING A BITCH PLS 😭😭😭😭😭 THIS IS HE SECOND TIME IM POSTING THIS 😃 enjoy it tho :)) it’s better than all my other works tbh so dint be too disappointed if you check the others :’)
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Thousands of people work every day, tired and upset, and yet they get up the next day to do the exact same thing. That’s how life is. It seems like nobody has a problem with that, maybe it’s because they’ve become so accustomed to it, or maybe they don’t want to come out pathetic and weaker to others, but they just keep going. It’s amazing, really, the way the mind works. Some people want to come off as strong and hard to read, and others just want to make friends and have fun.
Perhaps you were both, but today, you were none. All you felt was tiredness and stress. All you wanted to do was rip off these painfully uncomfortable clothes and curl into bed next to Jaemin.
At last, you reach your home you share with Jaemin, opening the door as he texted you he would leave it unlocked for you. Sluggishly and with no care in the world, you fling your shoes somewhere around the shoe rack, launching your bag to the couch, “I’m home!” no reply. With a huff, you make a beeline towards your shared room, emotions getting worse with every step you take. You twist the knob to your room, pushing it open, “Jaemin, you in he-”
Reach out and cover my neck
Please massage my shoulder a little further down
All your moodiness fades away when you spot your tired boyfriend quietly sniffling into his palms, seating looking too uncomfortable, even the sight of it throws your clothes into despair. “Jaemin...” you slowly inch towards him, heart shattering when he lets out a sob. He’s still in his work suit, something you loved on him, but now it just looked like it was suffering him. “Jaemin, baby,” you gently place your hand on his messy hair, cooing and running your fingers through his delicate strands when he leans into your touch.
“Come on, let’s go change. You feel uncomfortable, don’t you?” You beckon him softly, picking his face up and swiping a thumb over his wet cheek. He gives you a tight nod, squeezing the last few tears out before standing up, enveloping your hand around his. This is what he came home for. Your comfort and reassurance.
Even if the sun has already risen at the end of a tiring day
Now that I close my eyes
Just when you unbutton the last button of his jacket and throw it somewhere behind you, Jaemin can’t help but lean down to place his lips softly onto yours with care. His lips are salty from his tears, but you really don’t mind when his kisses are so soft, unlike all the other teasing and a bit rough ones he gives in the day. You pull away slowly, grinning up at him. He finally feels what he’s been longing the whole day, relaxation and tranquility. It feels so perfect and so… you.
Within 5 minutes, all uncomfortable work clothes are long forgotten, only soft big tees that envelop you and lul you slowly to sleep. That’s what you plan to do, right after Jaemin’s done in the bathroom and is next to you.
By the time your eyes are drooping close, the bathroom door is open, and you spot Jaemin shaking his hands dry and wiping them on his shirt. He instantly climbs in next to you, rushing into burying his face into your neck snugly.
On my day when I close the door later than others
Playfully tickling the earlobe
Even if we've been in a different world all day
Because we are always together at the end of the day
“Hard day?” You mumble into his forehead, chuckling lightly when he nods his head aggressively. “Do you want to talk about it?” Jaemin sighs, “Not really. It’s just the usual, given more work than the others. It’s just frustrating me,” You let out a thoughtful hum, nodding and threading your fingers into his messy hair, “So it all finally got to you?” He nods once again, this time a bit softer as he pulls you closer to his body.
“That’s good to hear, that you didn’t suppress your feelings, I mean. It’s been so long since you’ve actually relaxed.” Jaemin grins, you can read him so well, it’s amazing how you can determine how he’s feeling just by how he eats his breakfast or how affectionate he’s been.
Your little shoulders, your two little hands
At the end of my tiring day, it becomes a cozy blanket
Good job, you worked really hard
It makes him guilty, how you know every single part of him, and yet he doesn’t even try to know your small habits and actions you do. But then, he knows about your slow steps in the evening when you come back home, and the way your frown turns up quickly, almost too quickly, too fake. ‘Oh my god, you haven’t been good either,’ he thinks, as he squeezes you to him, as if trying to get rid of all the guilt he felt.
“Have you been okay?”
You are alarmed at the sudden question, tilting your head down to give him a confused look, “What?” Jaemin places his hand on your face, this time it’s him who’s stroking your tear away. You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the moisture spreading on your cheek.
“You’re not having such a good day either, huh?” Quickly, you try to scoot away from your boyfriend and wipe harshly at your tears, but the second you wipe one aggressively, Jaemin stops you, instead sitting up and wiping them himself, “You’re suppressing it too much.”
A scoff falls from your lips, before you playfully shove him away, “Don’t copy me!” There is a moment of laughter, before the atmosphere falls quiet. Not even a few seconds later, Jaemin is scooping you up to his side, enveloping you into his chest, “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.” Instead of replying, you soften to his embrace, letting the last few tears finally release.
To you, my two hands with my blunt shoulders
I hope it will be a warm comfort at the end of your tiring day
I want to breathe with you naturally
Now you feel it, what Jaemin was yearning for when he came home, serene and pure ease. One of Jaemin’s hands tangles into your hair, fingers prodding soothingly on your scalp, his other hand venturing underneath your shirt to caress your bare skin with care. He was wrong. He did know every part of you, he knew perfectly what you wanted and when to give it. You inch closer to Jaemin, craving more of his warmth and touch.
He only coos at your eagerness, happily letting you cling onto him and bury your form into his hold. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, as if a silent reminder that he loves you. You shift in his hold, “Thank you,” your whisper felt soft, almost soothing against Jaemin’s skin, and he continues pressing quick, loving pecks all over your face, just as much until you giggle out at the lingering sensation when he finally stops.
You finally have the strength to look back up into Jaemin’s eyes, and you find nothing but clarified love and affection, no doubt you have those as well in your own.
Like the water in the bathtub that tightly embraces you
Warmly and completely
At the end of my embarrassing day full of clumsy mistakes
Are you waiting for me to be proud of you
The ambiance is everything soft, it feels comforting and like home, it feels like Christmas night, the ones where you just finally calm down from the buzzing day from before. For a second there, you almost forget about the hectic day you had previously, but honestly, all you want to do is thank it, without it you wouldn’t be here, you would most likely be still working.
Work is a bitch, you conclude, because even when you’re done with it for the day and want to take a break from it, you can’t, you can’t help but worry and think about the next time you encounter it, you want to finish it, but where is the end of it? Work will always be there to bring you back to the reality that you can’t slack off, you’ll get off track.
Now your thoughts were just getting out of hand, and you really hate work now.
“Baby, you’re overthinking, I can tell.” you shake your head, getting rid of the thoughts, “Sorry,” Jaemin chuckles lightly, caressing your cheek dearly, “No, I kind of am too.”
The conversation ends there, it’s like you don’t want to ruin the peaceful little aura you’ve created, opting to keep it as long as you can. Jaemin decides to revive the conversation, sliding down to relax and lay down on the bed, bringing you with him, “Tell me,” His eyes catch yours, almost pleading you to tell him, “Tell me what you were thinking about,”
“Well,” You start, “Work is just so inevitable, and honestly? It’s full of shit.” Jaemin chortles slightly at your choice of words, “Tell me about it.” You give him a mischievous look, “Like, no matter how much you hate it and don’t want it, you’re still gonna have to do it anyway, you basically can’t live without work.”
The small sigh doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin, as he pats your back comfortingly. “And whenever you want to just get over with it, you can’t. It’s still gonna be there again the next day or two. I don’t like it at all. Not one bit.”
Your boyfriend almost agrees, but stops. He should encourage you instead, he thinks.
“But hey, a the end if you work hard there will be a present waiting at home for you.” You roll your eyes, thinking it one of his corny jokes, but he continues, “At least that’s what I tell myself to get throughout the day, I get to see you again, that’s practically magical. Coming back home and tumbling into your hugs and kisses are literally soo perfect, it’s surreal, almost.”
Your little shoulders, your two little hands
At the end of my tiring day, it becomes a cozy blanket
Good job, you worked really hard
A big smile spreads across your lips, and you turn your head to look at Jaemin. He smiles at you, affirming his words, softly running his hands through your hair, “I know it’s really cheesy, but it works for me.”
Your perspective might change completely because of that, imagine just a hard ass day of work kicking your ass, tiring, and most likely emotional and full of breakdowns, and in return for dealing with all the shit, you get to relax and spend some time with Jaemin without any work interrupting you two, you might just want that every day.
You give him a bigger, more satisfied smile, “Okay, I’ll do that.”
To you, my two hands with my blunt shoulders
I hope it will be a warm comfort at the end of your tiring day
I want to breathe with you naturally
Jaemin is another breed, because who on earth would come up with that idea? Na Jaemin did. While others, and most likely you, think of all the bad things that happened throughout the day, Jaemin thought of the future, what’s happened has happened, if it was shit then so be it. But time with you could never be shit for him, he can’t find a single bit of it boring.
Despite being with him for so long, you can’t help but always be so mesmerized by him, he’s absolutely fascinating. The way he sees life is honestly on another level, a level that you want to reach and a level he will happily help you reach.
From now on, you decide, you will find the goods at the end of the day, you will work hard, maybe even extra hard, just to be happy at the end of the day when you meet Jaemin once again.
I can't cry as much as I want and I can't laugh as much as I want
At the end of a tiring day, if it’s next to you
You scream like a child and laugh like you pass your breath
I meet myself, who has become awkward too
So when the next day arrives, you work super duper hard, staying an extra hour to help Mark with his own work he struggles with (he’s not that good with technology) and even doing extra small tasks your coworkers ask you to do, which they found funny because usually, you reply with an excuse or simply turning it down, this was definitely a good thing.
And when you go back home, this time you’re about 3 times more exhausted, and 10 times more excited to finally meet Jaemin after a long day.
You bust the door open harshly, throwing your shoes messily at the shoe rack with a bright smile on your face.
“I’m home!”
Jaemin’s soft mop of hair peeks out from the kitchen, “Oh? Baby? How was-”
Suddenly, the air in his lungs gets knocked out from force, the force of you rushing into his arms. You feel it. The happiness. Jaemin was right, this feels victorious. You feel like you’ve won in life, you feel so accomplished.
Jaemin sighs, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his forehead on the top of your head, “I’m so proud of you.”
Good job, you worked really ahrd
You are my pride
172 notes · View notes
tokyoimagines · 3 years
Text
✧ I’ll Always Take Care Of You ✧
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❀ Summary: Megumi was hurt on his last mission so you took it in your own hands to take care of him!
❀ A/N: If I mix up the names I’m sorry, I watched Jujutsu Kaisen in three different languages and the names get mixed up a lot. I’m not a native English speaker speaker so there will be mistakes (feel free to correct me)
❀ Pairings: Megumi x Reader
❀ Warnings: Grammar Error / Fluff / Blood / Bad Language
❀ Published: 11.02.2021
❀ Words: 1.742
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You couldn't believe it.
Megumi just came back from a mission that Gojo gave him a few days ago but he won’t let you allow see him. He came back a few hours ago and went straight to his room, not even looking you in the eyes. You just wanted to know if he was fine but he kept blocking every social interaction.
All you knew was that the mission included a grade 1 curse while Megumi was a grade 2 sorcerer so this shit didn’t even make sense. You were really worried, not knowing what happened.
“Megumi? Can I please come in?” it’s the fifth time now that you are were standing in front of his closed door. Shifting on your feet you waited quietly until you heard his stern voice replying. “No you can’t. Now please leave me alone.” Wow that hurt. A frustrated sigh leaving your mouth. Your best friend could be so stubborn its incredible.
Deciding if you should go to your room or just try again you saw Yuuji approaching you. “Yo!” he waved at you “He won’t let you in either?”
“No, I don’t know whats going on with him. So you also tried to talk too him?” you sigh, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking at Yuuji you noticed that he also seemed kind of worried. You remember how happy he was when you first met him, this boy has definitely changed a lot.
“Well he told me to fuck off.” he said laughing. “HE SAID WHAT?”
Yuuji let out a loud laugh. “I guess he’s just really exhausted, we should give him a break and try again later” Thinking about what he just said you bit your lip. Maybe he was right and Megumi was just really tired. We’re probably just annoying him right now.
“You’re probably right. If he was really hurt he would have went to Shoko. I’ll look after him again in the evening.” you said in a monotone voice.
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After the sun began to set you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing some soup. “If he won’t let me in this time I’ll pour this shit over his head!” you mumbled while stirring the soup. Grabbing a bowl of the freshly made soup you made your way to Megumis room again.  Hesitantly you knocked on the door again. “Megumi? I made you some food. I haven’t seen you the whole day, you must be hungry…” You waited nervously, biting your lip.
What if I just woke him up? Oh shit this punk will kill me.
“Leave the food in front of the door, I’ll get it later.”
Wait? Is this idiot serious right now?
You couldn't remember the last time you were this angry at your best friend because this shit just reached a whole different level. “You know what? I give a shit if you don’t want anyone to see you. Get the fuck ready because I’m coming in now”
“Y/N I dare y-” You stepped into his room, making his words die on his lips. He was laying in his bed while holding an ice pack to his lips.
Walking over to his bed and putting the soup on his nightstand you could make out some bloody tissue papers in his trash bin.
Now inspectating his face more closely you were able to see a big cut over his eyebrow and a dark purple eye. Now grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand with the ice pack away from his face, revealing a bruised lips.
“You could have just told me you were hurt.” you pressed out quietly. “You should go to Shoko”
“It’s really not that bad” he mumbled, pressing the ice against his lip again.
“That bloody shit in your trash says otherwise.” you pointed at his trash bin. “I’ll be right back, just don’t run away.”
“Where do you think I would be going looking like th-” again he was cut off by you leaving his room.
A few seconds later you came back bursting into his room again, in your hand a little package.
“Okay I guess I’ve got everything I need. Can you sit up? And put that damn ice to the side.”
Megumi put the ice on his nightstand and sat himself on the edge of his bed looking around his room. He looked everywhere but definitely not at you. After you positioned yourself in front of him you grabbed his chin softly, not wanting to hurt him any further.
“You look like shit” you said while getting out the bandages and the alcohol.
“Yeah Sherlock you don’t say” you chuckled at his stupid remark.
Putting some alcohol on a cotton wrap you padded it on the cut over his eyebrow. This angle gave you a chance to have a better look at his eyes. They were so dark, almost like obsidian. They were so deep, you almost got lost into them but Megumis hissing made you snap back. Ah right, the alcohol.
“I’m sorry, does it hurt that bad?”
“No, its fine. Just hurry please” You nodded, putting the cotton wrap away and grabbing a big band aid to put it over the cut. “This should stop the blending for now.”
“Turn your head a little bit, I need to see how badly your lips look.”
He turned his head to the side. His lips where mostly bruised but you could make out a little cut.
I can’t really patch that up but I can at least disinfect it.
Grabbing your alcohol and cotton again, you began to press it on his lips.
“Sorry this must hurt a lot”
Megumi kept quiet and just looked at you. His stare made you nervous.
Damn this boy and his beautiful eyes.
“I guess that’s all I can do for now. Do you have any more cuts or bruises I should take a look at?”
you immediately regretted your question.
“I actually got some more wounds, but I guess I can take care of them myself, it’s fine.” Oh no. If I do my job I do it correctly.
“Can you at least show them to me so I can see how bad they are. They should not get infected, you know right?”
Megumi let out a loud sight. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. Damn it, I wasn’t expecting it to be on his rips. I thought they were on his arms or some shit like that. So this was the reason why he had troubles getting up. Makes sense now.
You immediately became flustered by the pure sight of his upper body. Luckily Megumi was busy trying to not look you in the eyes.
I have to touch him. Oh please no.
You quietly did your job of disinfecting and cleaning up his wounds. His skin was pale and cold to your touch. Your eyes staring right at his upper body, not daring to look him in the eyes for just one second. Megumi was just as nervous as you were but after some minutes of acting like all of this didn’t happen, he was able to look at you cleaning his wounds. How careful you were to not hurt him.
“Y/N?” he spoke softly. You instinctively looked up, becoming even more red.
“Thank you for doing this.” he said, still staring into your eyes.
You hectically looked away, fixing your eyes on his almost patched up wounds again.
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always take care of you. No matter what.”
After you finished patching Megumi up, you packed your things together, strands of hair falling in your face. Megumi pulled his shirt over his head, being fully clothed again. The situation was awkward and even tho you really like Megumi, you wanted to get out of it.
“Guess my job is done here. Text me if you need something and I’ll come over. And eat your soup!” you said smiling at him, pointing at the soup that was still on his nightstand.
You were about to turn around, when Megumi spoke up.
“You know you could just stay here, then I don’t have to text you if I need something” he mumbled while scratching the back of his neck, not even looking you in the eyes.
You heart hammered so loud, you were scarred he would be able to hear it.
Was he serious? He wants me to stay with him over the night. This boy is joking right?
“Are your sure? Like… you want me here to stay?” you mumbled. Not really knowing what to say. You’ve gotten so nervous it’s getting ridiculous.
“Only if you want to, I thought that would be the better option” he shifted around, not knowing if what he said was wrong.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess that would be better.” you agreed by rapidly nodding, almost stumbling over your own words.
This was everything Megumi needed to hear. He lifted his blanked up to signalize you to get your ass into his bed.
Hesitantly you crawled into the bed, now laying next to him.
Megumi was laying on his back. You turned around to face him. “Can I….. you know. Can I maybe lay my hand there?” pointing at his stomach. You felt ashamed for asking to literally cuddle him, but you just couldn't help it.
Everyone can sleep better when they cuddle something, right?
Megumi looked at you, surprised that you even asked him that. “If it helps you sleep, sure.”
You slowly slit your hands up his stomach and rested it right under the wound you just patched up before. Curling into his side you breathed his scent in. He smelled so incredibly good, it gave you butterfly's in your belly.
“Am I not hurting you?” you asked, referring to the position you hand was in.
“You could never. Now go to sleep, you had a troublesome day with me acting like a completely asshole.” he chuckled, patting your head once, letting his hand rest on your back.
“I guess your right.” was all you where able to say, before slowly drifting off into a deep sleep.
Megumi watched you a bit longer, questioning how you both ended up like this. He always had liked you since he first laid his eyes on you. Seeing your sleeping form curled into him, made him realize how much he cared for you.
A/N
I hope you liked this imagine. If you know things I could do better, feel free to DM me. I always want to improve myself and my writing.
Have a nice day! ♡
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floralseokjin · 3 years
Text
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The green eyed monster 
⇢ memoirs of a mistake timeline
[saga index] [drabble index]
kim seokjin x reader // smut //  2,232 words  
warnings; party/bathroom sex, protected sex, some type of mirror sex, fingering
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You pushed the bathroom door open a few inches, impatiently searching for Seokjin in the crowd of bodies that littered the hallway while simultaneously trying to keep undetected. What the fuck were you doing right now? You’d told Seokjin there was no way you’d fuck at a filthy college party ever again, and yet, you were the one initiating it tonight... It was absolutely mortifying, but you just couldn’t think about it. Especially when you saw him emerging through a small group congregated by the stairs, all massive shoulders and handsome face. Damn him. Damn him straight to hell. 
He smirked as he saw your head peeking out the door, steps quickening and you jumped back inside. No one could see this. You didn’t want anyone to know you were having sex with Kim Seokjin. Not even Lina. (Although thankfully she hadn’t joined you tonight.) 
He pushed the door open, casually strolling inside. “Can’t resist me, I see.” He couldn’t help himself, smug look all over his face. 
You scowled. “Lock the door. Now.” Without any objections he listened, turning his back to bolt it closed. “Do you want someone to see us?” You were very aware of your tone, you just couldn’t help it. You were annoyed. At yourself. At this party. At Seokjin... 
“You’re the one demanding me to meet you in a bathroom.” He pointed out, immediately homing in on you. Hands at your hips he backed you up against the sink. He was either really dense or didn’t mind your attitude. You didn’t know which one was worse. 
Ignoring the obvious eyes he was throwing your way, you folded your arms across your chest, nose in the air, refusing to meet his gaze. (If you did, he’d have you bent over in no time, and the thought pissed you off.) “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here tonight.” 
Yumi had dragged you out, like she usually did these days, desperate to see more of the guy she’d recently started dating. It was cute really, but you were getting sick of the lack of sleep. You’d spotted Seokjin almost instantly, laughing and joking around with a bunch of his friends. He’s looked in your direction, given you a tiny smile and that was it. Not that he could do much else. He knew this was a secret between you two. But still... 
“You didn’t tell me,” he countered, finally sensing something was wrong. Maybe– “Are we doing this thing or not? Because I was having fun down there...” 
“Oh, I know you were,” you shot, eyes wide. 
Ding ding! He caught the implication laced in your tone immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw you dancing.” 
There was a brief pause and then he burst out into laughter. “I see. You’re jealous.” He gleed, leaning in, his face millimetres from yours. His breath reeked of beer, but somehow that didn’t bother you. “Green eyed monster.” 
You pushed his chest. “I’m not jealous.” 
“Are too.” 
“Am not.” 
So what if you’d seen him dancing with a bunch of different girls throughout the night? You weren’t annoyed because you were jealous, you were annoyed because you and he had a deal. No sleeping with anyone else. You’d been sticking to it. Was he? 
Seokjin smiled, now lacing his arms around your waist as he tilted his head. “I gotta say, I’m touched. Didn’t think you cared about me that much.” 
“I don’t...” You said slowly, unamused. “We have a deal, remember?” 
He rolled his eyes. “I was dancing with a few girls not fucking them.” 
“They want you to fuck them though.” The thought made you a little angry. It wasn’t jealousy though. 
“But I don’t want to fuck them.” He replied, his eyes running down your chest, stopping at the cleavage of your dress. “I want to fuck you... All day, every day.” Giving you a squeeze, he pressed his crotch to yours. “Feel that.” You most definitely could feel it. The bump of his erection. “That’s what you do to me... Got me all hard from just a text. Even with all your griping.” 
You ignored that last bit, too busy softening at his words. The fact he’d gotten hard from the sheer prospect of having sex with you did wonders for your ego. Seokjin ran a hand down your ass, giving one cheek a squeeze, voice soft. He was trying to coax you. You weren’t dumb, but you let him think you were. “You know if I was allowed I’d be dancing with you, right? I really want to dance with you.” He pressed into you, circling his hips, erection growing stiffer. “Grind all over you...” 
You looked up at him, trying your best to keep your expression neutral. “Just fuck me.” 
He had the skirt of your dress up above your hips in no time, his thumb pressed against your clothed clit. “No.” You shook him off. “Just fuck me.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “No prep?” 
You shook your head, letting him pull your underwear down around your knees. He brought two of his fingers towards your entrance, checking if you were wet. “Are you sure? You’re not even wet. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
“You won’t,” you told him. “I’m getting wet. Just get a condom. You have one, right?” 
He was too busy unzipping his jeans, pulling his dick out of his boxers. This is why you didn’t like having sex at parties. It always felt so... cold. Maybe you’d grown too comfortable having sex at his place. You liked him better naked. 
“Jin. Condom?” You were getting impatient. 
“Alright, alright, I’m getting it,” he complained, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket. “And before you ask, this is my emergency one. Just in case you jump me around campus or something.” 
You pulled a face. There was way more chance of him jumping you. He initiated sex 90% of the time. Tonight? It was one off. He went to rip the packet open but glanced at you. Outstretching his hand, he grinned. “Put it on for me?” 
“Fine.” You snatched it. He was wasting time. You’d already been in here for ten minutes. The door was bound to get bashed in at some point. 
Ripping it open with your teeth (a dumb thing to do, by the way), you pulled the condom out, pinching the tip to slip it over Seokjin’s cock. He pulsed beneath your hand as you made sure it was secure, looking up to find him staring straight at you, eyes dark and filled with want. 
“Turn around.” 
You listened, letting him spin you around by the hips, underwear falling to the floor as you spread your legs a little, letting him have access. He rubbed the head of his cock against your entrance, finding you were now wet. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t point it out surprisingly. 
He pushed in slowly, letting you take him inch by inch. It wasn’t painful, but it was a squeeze. When he started fucking you, he wasn’t fully in but he didn’t seem to mind, bunching your dress up further so he could watch your ass better as it bounced with each thrust. He sucked in some air. “God, you really have the most amazing ass.” 
Looking up, he met your eyes in the sink mirror. Uh oh. Busted. He was instantly grinning. “Enjoying the view?” You’d been watching him the entire time, he just hadn’t noticed up until now, too distracted by your ass. You couldn’t help but moan, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You’d never had sex in a bathroom before. This was new territory but actually, it was pretty exciting. 
“There we go,” Seokjin encouraged, sliding in deeper, all the way, as you got more comfortable. “Start soaking my cock.” 
“Ngh. Jin!” His words got to you, walls squeezing around him. 
He carried on, hands pawing at your ass. “I thought fucking at parties was beneath you?” His tone was goading, as if he was trying to get a bite. “I get it. You want to prove a point.” His thrusts got harder, you held onto the edge of the sink tightly, staring at your own reflection. This was fast becoming one of the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. 
“Shame those girls don’t know about you. Seems like you’d love to rub it in their faces.” 
“That’s... Th-that’s not it at all,” you insisted, voice weak. Fucking Seokjin wasn’t something to be proud of. 
“You want them to know I’m off limits,” he carried on between grunts. He was making you feel so good right now you couldn’t even think to tell him how wrong he was. Not with all these distractions. “You know I only want to fuck you.” 
You melted. Pushing back into him like something desperate. He cupped your ass with one hand, the other holding you tight by the hip. “Fuck. You make me feel so good. Your pussy is so fucking warm and soft. So fucking wet now. I make you wet, don’t I, babe?” 
You both moaned then, making eye contact in the mirror. Seokjin’s cheeks were flushed red, something you’d gotten very used to these past few weeks. You found it oddly endearing.
“You’re getting off on this.” He noted. “Watching me fuck you.” 
“O-of course,” you choked out, biting down on your bottom lip when he started fucking you harder. “Seokjinn–!” 
His hips stuttered, watching you go crazy for him. “Shit. We need to be quick, right?” He got no reply. “I’m gonna cum.” 
If you weren’t so distracted right now you would’ve laughed. He didn’t need to make excuses for himself. Cute. He was close because he was so turned on. Nothing more, nothing less. 
A few moments later his body stiffened, dick rammed inside you as he released into the condom. “Fuck,” he sighed, when it was all said and done, slipping out of you to remove the latex and trash it. (He did have the courtesy to hide it in toilet paper beforehand though.) 
Turning around to face him, he smiled at you, looking a little gooey around the edges. “You look so pretty tonight,” he murmured, your eyes immediately dropping to his mouth. Nope. 
“Wanted to get my hands on you as soon as I saw you.” He leaned in to nuzzle your neck, hands grazing your bare ass. At least this position was safer. 
“You didn’t even say hi.” You almost pouted. It sounded so unlike you. 
He lifted away, looking surprised. At the same time one of his hands travelled forwards, thumb at your clit. “Am I allowed to say hi?” 
“I don’t know,” you whispered, pushing your hips into him. 
“You need to make these rules clearer.” His voice was barely there, distracted as he pushed two fingers inside of you. You moaned, your face falling into his chest. It was safer this way. No temptation. 
He pushed a third finger in gently. “Too much?”
You shook your head. “N-no.” 
Going a little faster, you clutched at his t-shirt, thighs beginning to tremble already. Chasing your desperate release you started circling into his thumb, needing the added stimulus to get you off. 
“God. This pussy really can’t get enough,” he muttered, voice strained as he concentrated, snapping his wrist like no tomorrow. 
“Seokjin, I-I...” You couldn’t get your words out, breathing heavily, pleasure intense. 
“Cum, baby.” He purred, the little hairs on the back of your neck shooting up. “Let go and just cum all over my fingers.” 
And you did. With a muffled cry up against his t-shirt, pulsing uncontrollably down below, your back sweaty. 
“You okay?” He asked once he’d pulled out. 
You nodded, lifting your head away. “Yep.” Your voice was a little shaky, which was normal now.
You both soon busied yourself with looking presentable again, moment over. Checking your reflection in the mirror one last time you, you asked him a question curiously. “Did you really mean what you said?” He looked clueless. “About wanting to dance with me?”
“Of course,” he shrugged. 
“Then do it.” 
“Here?” He seemed confused. 
“Yeah. I guess if you just came up behind me and started going for it, I’d probably find it funny and let you continue.” 
Pulling a face, he stepped closer. “Huh? Like some kind of pervert?” 
“No, idiot,” you scoffed. “Just try it out and see what happens.” 
“Okay.” He looked happy. 
“Okay.” You smiled, feeling happy too. “Now leave,” you prompted with a tap to his shoulder. “I’ll follow you out in five minutes.” 
“See you down there.” He walked past you, hand brushing across your waist affectionately. “By the way.” He stopped, turning back to tell you something. “I caught like three different guys trying to hit on you tonight.” 
“What guys?” You asked all confused. What was he going on about? 
He chuckled. “Cute, you’re so clueless.”
He gave your ass a tap. “At least I don’t have to worry about you getting lured away.” 
You refrained an eye roll. “Go!” Yet you were unable to stop yourself from laughing, shaking him away with your hand. 
“I’m goinggg,” he whined, shooting you a parting wink. The nerve. 
You waited until he was gone to let yourself smile, excited to get downstairs. You wanted to go dance. 
With Seokjin.
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softomi · 4 years
Text
The Worst Wingman in the World
Kuroo Tetsuro
He was your last resort, usually Yaku would help you but sweetheart Yaku was too busy sucking face with the random bar girl in the bathroom. Others were scattered on the dance floor, some still attempting to get drinks, and Kenma refused to come at all. So, he was definitely your last resort. And you really needed him to do this right.
“Okay.” You grip his arm, your nails digging into him just enough for him to yelp, “I swear to god, if you ruin this for me again, I’ll rip your head off.”
Kuroo is nursing the drink in his hand, “Don’t worry, I got this.”
When he attempts to stand up, you pull him back down, “I’m serious Kuroo.” You’re looking at him with pleading eyes, “I really need this.”
He knew you did, having just been dumped by your boyfriend a few weeks ago; this was supposed to be your night to get back in the game. Kuroo only nods, taking his leave to the bar where you have been making increasing eye contact with the cute guy. You’re biting your nails, nervous when Kuroo finally approaches the man. If it was like any other night, Kuroo would be scaring the guy away with random, slightly embarrassing facts about you, but suddenly the man is approaching you. He extends an arm out.
“So? My place?”
You happily get up, “Sure.” He lets you lead the way out, you can only briefly catch the guy saying something to Kuroo.
“Kuroo!” Your hands cover your mouth, watching the guy suddenly fall to the ground. He holds his bleeding nose, you look at Kuroo, knuckles with traces of the man’s blood, “What the hell are you doing?”
Kuroo gives you a smile, waving his hand, “Ah sorry, my fault, my hand slipped.”
Bokuto Koutarou
He had set up the blind date. He told you that it would be a really good guy this time. The last time he said that, you were on a date at a children’s party. But he begged you, promised you, that this time it was a really good guy. You believed him, but how could you not when he told you that the location of said date was at a really fancy restaurant in the more expensive part of town.
“I did good right?” You could practically hear him grinning on the other line.
You laugh, “yes Bo. It’s a really nice place. I don’t think I can even afford this place.”
“Don’t worry about it.” It’s the last thing he says before ending the call, it was how he always was when he started setting you up on dates, his phone calls were quick and short, compared to how he usually was.
You were already taking sips of wine while you waited for your date. When an hour passes, your wine is finished, the workers are actively avoiding you, and you’re trying your best to not call Bokuto sadly. The empty seat in front of you taunts you.
“Bo.” You’re beginning to sniffle, “He’s not here.”
“What?” He exclaims, “It’s over an hour, are you still there?”
“I just stayed just in case.”
You could hear rustling on his side, “I’m on my way.”
Your head perks up, “Wait, don’t.” The call ends before you can even finish and you’re left waiting.
“I’m here!” Everyone turns their head to see him running through the tables. He’s grinning, not a care in the world as everyone stares. The suit fits him snugly, “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He slides into the seat in front of you, casually picking up the menu as the waitress approaches. He closes it shut quickly, “We’ll take two of the most expensive thing on the menu and the most expensive bottle of wine.” He’s actively emphasing ‘expensive’ to the waitress and you can’t help but hide a laugh behind your menu.
As you drink your wine, he receives a phone call. He holds a finger up to let you know he’d be a minute. He’s briefly stepping away from the table as the voice speaks.
“Hey, Bokuto, did you send me to the wrong restaurant? I’ve been waiting forever at a soup dumpling place?”  
Tsukishima Kei
It was like he had a sixth sense, like his super power was knowing when and where a guy would be hitting on you. It was insufferable the way he would just appear just as you’re about to go on a date, accept a love confession, or literally just walk with a guy. Growing up with Tsukishima was already punishment enough, but to have him scare away every boyfriend you’ve ever had was like torture.
“I really like him.” He only grunts in response, you’re pulling the sleeve of his arm, “So please, can you be nice.”
“I can’t promise that.” He’s smiling, this was like entertainment to him.
“Kei!” He finds it amusing seeing you angered, “You know what, this was a mistake, I’m not introducing you to him. You can meet him if we ever get married.” Your phone rings, the hearts on the contact makes him gag, “Kei!”
He’s taken the phone from your grasp, “Hello?”
You kick him in the shin and he bends over in pain as you grasp the cell, “Hey, yeah that was Kei, he’s just messing around.” You elbow him in the side now, “Yep we’re on our way.” You’re pulling him by the ear, “You better be nice or so help me, I will destroy your little dinosaur collection.”
Compared to early, you were an angel. You sat innocently next to the said boyfriend, a blush on your cheeks as you speak softly.
“You know she’s real nice.” Tsukishima leans on his elbow, your eyes are sparkling, perhaps he was about to say something nice about you, “She announces when she’s going to take a dump.”
You kick him from under the table, “Kei!” You sharply say, you’re pretending to laugh, “He’s such a jokester sometimes.”
“You wanna see pics of her without make up.”
You knock his hand, the cell phone accidentally falling into his soup, “Sorry, my mistake.” You’re glaring at him.
Needless to say, Tsukishima scared off another one of your boyfriends. You were glaring at him when he showed up at your door.
“You dropped my phone in soup.” He’s holding his new phone in his hand, “I lost all the pictures on my phone. Now I need new pictures of you to make one as your icon.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi
You usually wouldn’t go to him for anything related to dating or relationships, he was literally the worst person to talk to about that stuff. He wasn’t even expecting to see you today, but you texted him saying that you had left your wallet in his bag from when you two ate lunch. He couldn’t exactly leave practice, thus you ended up poking your head into the gymnasium to make sure they were on a short break before skipping in. Sakusa noticed how heads turned when you entered.
“Are you on break?” You’re whispering, the eyes on you were making you shy, “I didn’t want to walk in during the middle.”
“Yes I’m on break.” Sakusa is leading you to his bag, trying to fish out your wallet. When he’s finally pulled it out and given it to you, that’s when someone approaches.
“Who’s this?” His hand is stretched out in a friendly manner but Sakusa knocks his hand away.
“You haven’t even cleaned your hands yet.”
“What!” The male is shouting, “I totally have! Look at them Omi!” He’s shoving his hand in front of Sakusa’s face to which he leans back with a scowl.
“Atsumu!” The male turns his head when his name is called, the coach calling him back to the court.
Sakusa is walking you out of the gym, you look at him quickly, a light blush on your cheeks, “So, that guy, Atsumu? Is he single?”
He gives you a look of disgust, “Him? Seriously? The guy who doesn’t wash his hands.”
“Kiyoomi!” You’re drawing his name out cutely, “Just answer, yes or no.”
He’s pondering for a second, “I think he said he was seeing someone.”
Your shoulder slump in disappointment, you stretch your arms out above your head with a sigh, “All the cute guys are taken.” You glance at him briefly, “Well, I’m off then. See you later Omi.” You poke your tongue out teasingly at the new nickname for him.
When Sakusa arrives back to the volleyball court, Atsumu comes strutting up to him, “Hey, so your friend? Are you guys dating or is she single?”
Sakusa doesn’t look at the male, “She’s taken.”
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yuta-nakamots · 4 years
Text
Playing Games - n.yt
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Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader
Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst
Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption
Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.
Word Count - 11.2k
A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!
Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24
Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct​. Check out the masterlist here.
Prompts;
"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” –  Pink Sweat$ - Honesty
“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games
“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” –  Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK
“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus
“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”–  McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me
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It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.
You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.
Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.
Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.
“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.
‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’
The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus.  Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.
Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.
You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.
You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.
Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.
Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.
You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.
Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.
Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.
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You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.
Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.
You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.
Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”
Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”
“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.
Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.
“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.
You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”
Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”
“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.
The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”
“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.
Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.
As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.
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The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.
“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.
“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.
Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.
You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”
“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.
“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.
You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”
Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”
“Sure.”
“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.
“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.
“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.
“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.
Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.
“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”
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By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.
When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”
You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.
“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.
“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”
“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”
“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.
“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.
You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.
“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”
You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”
“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.
“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.
“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.
As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.
You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.
“Who?”
“Mark.”
“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”
“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”
Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”
Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”
You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.
“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.
“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”
“He is once you get to know him.”
You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”
Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”
“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.
“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”
“Like?”
Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”
You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.
“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.
Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.
Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.
“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”
“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.
He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”
You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”
Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.
You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”
“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.
“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”
“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.
As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.
“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”
“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.
“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”
“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.
“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.
Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.
You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.
He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.
You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.
Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”
After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.
You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.
Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.
You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.
“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.
Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.
“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.
A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.
“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”
You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.
He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.
“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.
“This is my room and my blanket.”
“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”
“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”
You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.
Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”
“You’re closer.”
“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.
“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”
“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.
“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”
“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”
“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”
“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”
“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.
Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”
You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”
“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”
“Do wha-”
You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.
You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.
Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.
You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”
“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.
“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”
“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.
You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”
“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”
“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”
“That's not what I intended to do.”
“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”
He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”
“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”
Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”
You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.
Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.
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You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.
However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.
You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”
“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.
Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”
“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.
“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”
“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.
You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.
Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”
“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.
“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”
“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.
You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.
“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.
Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.
You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.
Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.
“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.
“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.
Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”
“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.
“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”
Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”
“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.
“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.
“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”
“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.
“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”
You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.
You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.
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It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.
Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.
Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.
Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.
You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.
“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.
You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”
“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re mine.”
The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”
“We’re friends.”
“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”
“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.
“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”
“I’m not playing around with you-”
“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.
He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”
“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”
“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”
“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.
“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.
You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”
“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.
You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.
Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.
Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.
Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.
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You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”
“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.
Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.
“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.
Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.
Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.
Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.
His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to  acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”
“Fine. You?”
“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.
“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.
You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.
Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.
Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.
You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.
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You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.
Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.
Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”
You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.
Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.
“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.
You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”
Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”
You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.
“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”
“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”
“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”
“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.
“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”
He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.
“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”
You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”
Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.
He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.
“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.
“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.
You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”
“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.
“You.”
“Baby, say my name.”
“Yuta, I want you.”
“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.
The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.
You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.
He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.
Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.
You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.
He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”
“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.
“Condom” you tell him.
“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.
“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.
“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.
He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.
“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.
You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.
He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.
Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.
Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”
If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.
You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”
He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”
“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.
Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.
His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.
Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.
You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”
“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.
“Are we official?” He clarified.
“Only if you want us to be.”
Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”
“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.
He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”
“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.
“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.
“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.
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A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!
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Text
Prometiste.
summary: when a relationship starts breaking, previous promises are broken too.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: pure angst! Is a sad one :(
a/n: I got inspired by my favorite song to write this piece, this song is very dear to me and i loved how this turned out. Let me know what you think of it, please! (btw, the title translates to ‘you promised’)
you can find the rest of my masterlist here
✧・゚: *✧・゚:**:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: ✧・゚: *✧・゚:**:・
The distance can make people grow closer, or it can break them apart. When the second happens, the results are two people with a broken heart and a lot of problems unresolved.
In the beginning, things were great. Harry would pick Y/N up at the airport every time she would go visit him on tour. He’d have her attached to his hip all the time, grabbing a chair for her to sit and watch him rehearse, put her on his lap while his hairstylist was doing his hair, going straight to her arms after every show and going straight to their hotel room to make love to her just like he knows how to.
When her time to leave would arrive, he would beg her to stay just a little more, claiming she was his lucky charm and needed her with him at all times. He’d never say goodbye, simply because he didn’t like that word. He’d much prefer to leave a kiss at the top of her head and make her promise she’d come back soon.
And every time she kept her promise.
Six months passed since Harry began his tour, and in every visit she made she’d notice him more distant, and even if she didn’t want to admit it, she could feel how he was slowly slipping through her fingers.
He’d no longer make the trip to pick her up from the airport, he’d tell her to wait in his dressing room until the concert, leaving her alone for hours without any sort of explanation or sight of regret. She started to feel more like a baggage, an intruder.
Regardless of how she felt, she decided against talking to Harry about it. It was obvious he was stressed, so she sat and watched in silence how the love of her life slowly changed into a person she didn’t know anymore.
Suddenly, she found herself starting looking forward to saying goodbye instead. The question of why she was still wasting her money on plane tickets to see a person who didn’t even look happy to see her was a real enigma, but she still did it anyway. No matter how many text messages Harry would leave on read, or how many unanswered calls landed on his phone, she still loved him and had faith this would only be temporary.
The tour finally made its stop in London, and the reason why Y/N was looking forward to this particular stop, was because Harry had a week long break before his next show. Which meant he was going to be completely free from any obligations, and his mind would finally be stress free.
He hasn’t been sending her many messages lately, but he did tell her his plane got delayed and he’d arrive later than expected. She took the extra time to cook dinner at his house, as a welcome gift.
Harry’s flight was supposed to land at 6 pm, however, it was already nine and he hadn’t come to his house yet.
Y/N got worried and sent him a couple of messages asking him about his whereabouts but he was yet to answer. So she insisted. She was tired of being ignored.
However, after finally receiving an answer from Harry, she immediately wished she didn’t.
Can you stop being so annoying?
Y/N felt as if someone ripped her heart from her chest as tears immediately threatened to spill out of her eyes. Dozens of questions started to run through her mind, still having trouble at understanding the situation.
She contemplated her options. She could either leave, or she could stay and wait for him to come home and one and for all demand an explanation of his behavior. She chose the latter.
So she sat on the couch, looking directly at the flat screen hanged on the wall even though it wasn’t even on. She flinched when she heard a jingle of his keys, following from his footsteps.
None of them said anything as Harry approached her, sitting beside her on the couch in complete silence. He sighed.
“I don’t think this is working anymore, Y/N” He whispered, turning to look at her. He caught how one single tear fell off her left eye, not answering him. She swallowed the rest of them though. “There’s so much going on right now, and I had to make a massive readjust of priorities…”
“And I suppose I didn’t make the cut” She interrupted him. Harry took a deep breath. “Did you stop loving me?” Finally turning to look at him, Harry’s heart break into a million of pieces when he saw her, bloodshot eyes from containing her tears. Harry shook his head. “Then what happened?” she almost begged. “Because it looks like you did and you’re just lying to me to make me feel better”
“I haven’t stopped loving you, never will” he confessed. “I thought I could balance it all. Tour and… well, you. I haven’t been a good boyfriend and you deserve someone who puts you first because… because I can’t”
“I know I’m not perfect, I was certain that my place was next to you. And I tried to keep my promise, I really tried, Harry” She couldn’t contain herself anymore as she started sobbing.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest, allowing himself to also cry. He felt how Y/N’s tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care. She tried inhale Harry’s essence as she felt like it was going to be the last time she’d be able to do it.
“I know you did, I do” He started kissing the top of her head multiple times. “This is on me, baby. Is all on me, I’m sorry”
She pulled away from his chest, whipping her tears only to receive new ones. “You could’ve spared me so much time of uncertainty, you know? If you didn’t want this anymore, then why you didn’t say something sooner?”
“I… don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to accept it was time to let you go”
Y/N’s lip started trembling. Deep down she knew Harry just didn’t love her anymore, and although that thought hurt, she would’ve preferred hearing that rather than a really vague excuse. She needed to get out of the house, otherwise she’d collapse.
She stood up abruptly, starting to look for her purse. Harry panicked, standing up from the couch as well. “Please don’t go while you’re like this”
“I don’t want to stay, Harry” she choked a sob. “I really need to go, please” she begged. Harry looked unsure, but he still let go of her arm he didn’t even realize he was holding.
So he watched grab her purse and leave. In that moment, Harry knew he was making the biggest mistake of his life, one that he’d forever regret. But even if he already knew, he still did it anyway.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:**:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: ✧・゚: *✧・゚:**:・
Y/N cried until there weren’t any more tears to spill. She woke up the next day with a wet pillow and a broken heart. At first, she thought it was all just a bad dream, but memories from the night before passed through her mind and a new wave of tears came.
She felt like her whole world was falling apart, suddenly feeling lost and… empty. Her chest felt empty. And it was because her heart didn’t belong to her anymore. Harry had it.
And despite he knew he held her heart in his hands, he still broke it.
Or perhaps he forgot he had it.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten something.
Y/N just wanted it all to end. The ache in her head and in her chest, it was becoming too much to handle and she didn’t know what to do anymore.
After spending her whole afternoon in bed staring at the ceiling, she came to the conclusion that in order to stop her soul from aching further, Y/N needed to erase the past three years of her life from her mind.
It was an impulsive decision, but she didn’t realize it until she was in front of Harry’s front door with a couple of duffel bags in the back of her car, waiting to be filled with all her belongings.
Harry wasn’t home, of course he wasn’t. He had a concert to do. He had a career and a life that was waiting for him, and Y/N wasn’t part of that anymore.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the bags and entered the house with her spare key, feeling sad about thinking it would be the last time she’d use it. She placed the key in the table beside the door and headed upstairs straight to Harry’s room.
A wave of memories invaded her mind. Times where they were happy, times where being in love was the only thing that matter for them.
His room. A place Y/N loved but now was bittersweet to stand in. She placed her bags on his bed, allowing her palm to touch the white sheets and closing her eyes for a second.
His bed. Where thousands of promises were made through soft whispers and tender touches. She remembered how Harry would promise her it would always be them against the world, how he bowed he’d never leave her alone, loving her until the end of times, through thick and thin. No matter the situation, it’d always be just them. Just Y/N and Harry.
And she, being her, believed him blindly.
It seemed like Harry forgot all those things along with so many others. Along with the fact that today would’ve been their fourth year together, not that it mattered anymore.
Once her bags were full, she let herself have one last look at the room that used to be her favorite room in the entire house. She took out the promise ring Harry had given her a year prior, letting it rest on his nightstand.
Just like last night, Y/N had two options. She could either leave now, or she could stay and wait for him for one last goodbye.
And this time, she chose the first option, and didn’t look back.
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theewritingroomm · 3 years
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The Road to California
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Summary: Juice was only meant to be passing through this little town on his way to California. He never expected to catch the attention of the preacher’s daughter, and he sure as hell never meant to fall in love with her.  Pairing: Juice Ortiz x Reader Word Count: 2,261 Warnings: swearing, derogatory insults (the word whore), slight angst (just oh so barely imo), loosely edited A/N: Loosely based on ‘God Love Her’ by Toby Keith. In the beginning reader is 18 and Juice is 19/20. Text divider by: @firefly-graphics
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She was walking out of the church after her father’s sermon when she saw him. He looked at least a few years or maybe only a year older than her and was by far the most attractive man she had ever seen. He was the perfect embodiment of the bad boy stereotype. Tan skin pulled over lean muscle, a spattering of tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt, and his lips wrapped around a cigarette. Y/N began to imagine all the things her could do to her before she noticed his eyes. His eyes that were a beautiful shade of brown and held a mischievous and seemingly childish glint. Y/N could not tear her gaze away from him and eventually that was her downfall, for he finally looked across the street and met hers after a few minutes. Y/N wanted to look away when she noticed he had caught her, but something about him pulled her in and before she knew it, he was walking towards her.
“You were staring pretty hard sweetheart. Did you need something?” He asked, his silky-sweet voice nearly reducing her to a puddle in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Not really.” She stated once she had regained her composure. “Just wondering why, you decided to stop in my little town. I’ve never seen you around before.”
He eyed her up and down, taking in everything from her wide e/c eyes to the curves hidden under her pale pink dress, white cardigan and leather bible clutched in her hand. She did not look like the type of girl he would usually go for, but he could not deny that she was beautiful and definitely had the body of someone he could let himself get lost in. Even if it was only for a night.
“Just passing through.” He finally replied. “Though I’d love it if someone could show me where I can get something to eat.”
Y/N saw the same mischievous glint in his eyes that she had seen from earlier. “I might know a place, but I’m going to need to know your name.” she replied, arching an eyebrow at the man in front of her.
“Juan Ortiz. Yours?”
“Y/N L/N.”
Juan smiled and seemed to think it over. Y/N was expecting him to come back with some cheesy pick up line. But he did not. He simply continued to smile and offered her his arm, willing her to link hers with his.
“Well Y/N, show me your little Podunk town.”
Months passed and the relationship between Juan, well Juice as he had told her to call him, and Y/N continued to grow. He had stayed in town for her, getting a job at the local body shop, helping her through the final months of school, and simply being there for her when she needed it. He was becoming her rock, her confident and in return Y/N was his happy place, his haven, and the one he trusted the most. They had learned everything about each other during that time. Juice had told Y/N about everything from his life in Queens to his desire to go to California. Y/N in turn had told him how it was growing up as the only daughter of the town’s most well-known preacher. She had also told him that she had never left the state and that had driven her to apply for colleges around the country in hopes of getting out of the town she grew up in.
“We could go together.” Juice had declared one Saturday afternoon as the two of them sat on Y/N’s bed. They had been talking all day about leaving town after her graduation and running to California or wherever else she decided to go.
“We could leave right after you get your diploma.” Juice continued. “We could hop on my bike and never look back.”
Y/N did not say anything in response, but she leaned closer to Juice closing the gap between them to capture his lips in a kiss.
“I would love nothing more than to run away with you.” She teased, pulling away for only a moment.
Juice kissed her back, sliding his hands up her body stopping at her waist and using the leverage he had to lay her down, never breaking their kiss. Juice settled between her thighs as he placed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Y/N basked in the feeling of his lips and hands traveling over her body. She was confident that nothing had felt as good as this.
“Are you okay with where this could go?” Juice questioned, looking into her bright e/c eyes, and seeing so many emotions swirling in them. He was terrified that she was going to push him away and tell him everything was a mistake.
But her rejection never came. Instead she pulled him closer by his belt loops and smiled up at him. “Yes, because I love you Juan.”
“I love you too.” Juice grinned his eyes sparkling as he went to kiss her again.
He groaned when he felt her tongue slide against his lips and her hands against his stomach. It was obvious to him that she was trying to remove his shirt and he saw no reason to argue with his girl, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it behind him. After reconnecting their lips Y/N slid her hands up the smooth expanse of his back, digging her nails into his shoulder blades as Juice’s tongue tangled with hers. He had begun to unbutton her blouse when Y/N’s bedroom door burst open revealing her father, red faced with anger, and her mother with tears in her eyes. The two lovers jumped apart, Y/N was blushing, and Juice stood there looking at the carpet under his feet.
“Oh sweetheart.” Her mother sobbed, covering her face with her hands as her daughter looked towards Juice.
“I cannot believe you Y/N!” Her father bellowed. “You allowed this criminal into our home and allowed him to defile you. I am not only disappointed in you, but I am also disgusted by your actions.”
Y/N gasped as her father’s words settled in the air, her eyes filled with tears as they settled in her heart. As much as she hated the expectations, they forced upon her, Y/N did not want to disappoint her parents.
“I raised you better than this Y/N, I didn’t raise you to be a whore” her father continued to bellow, no doubt gaining the attention of some of their neighbors. “look at what you’ve done to your mother!”
Y/N turned her gaze to her mother and saw tears still streaming down her cheeks, messing up the makeup that she spent so much time on. It ripped out Y/N’s heart to see her mother in such a state, and to know that it was all her fault only made it that much worse. Y/N began to sniffle, holding back her tears as her father finally turned his attention to the other man in the room.
“And you,” Y/N’s father took two larger steps closer to Juice, gabbing his shoulder tightly. “I want you to get out of my house and stay away from my daughter. Because if I catch you again I will call the cops and have you arrested.”
Juice nodded, casting a quick glance towards Y/N before grabbing his shirt off the floor and bolting out of her room.
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It would be weeks later when she finally saw Juice again. He was standing on the same street corner across from the church, the same place he’d been the first time they met. He was leaning against his bike, his arms crossed over his chest and stretching the fabric of his white t-shirt over the muscles of his arms. His eyes seemed to bore into her, taking in every feature, every curve, and every emotion in her face from across the street.
Y/N looked at him one time, meeting his eye. And that was all it took for her to cross the street and come stand in front of him.
“Hi baby girl,” he said softly, avoiding her gaze now that she was so close.
Y/N shook her head, blinking the tears away before she could speak, “You left me, you missed my graduation, where did you go?”
Juice snapped his eyes closed, the pain in her voice almost too much for him to handle. He didn’t want to; he had wanted to stay but he knew that his job at the body shop in town wasn’t going to allow him to save up enough for the two of them. So, he went to the next town over. He found a cheap, rundown apartment and another job at the larger shop in the next town over as well as picking up shifts as a bartender on the weekends. Between the two jobs he had been able to save up enough to take them all the way to California.
“I’m sorry sweets, I was doing what was best for us,” he pulled a small box for the saddle bag next to his knee. He handed it over to Y/N who opened it and gasped.
Inside the box was multiple large wads of cash rubber banded together. Each rubber band looked like it was ready to snap and Y/N was sure that if there was any more in the box it would not shut. Y/N looked up from the box, shock written across her face as her eyes connected with Juice’s.
“Where did all of this come from.” She said, fear bubbling in her chest as she waited for an answer.
“It’s not what you think,” Juice replied, taking the box from her hands. “I’ve been busting my ass to make enough money to get us, to get you out of here.”
Her shock increased; she was not expecting that answer from him. Y/N didn’t know what to say, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would start to cry.
“So, what do you say,” Juice said, a small smile on his face, “you ready to get out of here?”
Y/N looked back at the church across the street knowing her parents where still inside. Nothing had been the same between them after that day they caught her with Juice. They seemed to resent her, which tore at Y/N’s heart. But she was beginning to understand that their views were not going to change, they were always going to hate the idea of their little girl with the big, bad biker even if that big, bad biker was the kindest man Y/N had ever met. Knowing this in her heart made the decision that much easier.
Y/N turned back to face Juice as a small smile formed on her lips. “Let’s get out of this Podunk town.”
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*10 Years Later*
Gemma could hear someone’s cell phone ringing all the way from the office and it was beginning to piss her off. So, like anything that pisses Gemma off she was going to take care of it. She followed the sound all the way to the clubhouse, to the box where the guys kept their phones during meetings. Gemma dug around in the box for a moment before finding the phone that was making the noise, Juice’s phone. Upon picking it up Gemma noticed a slew of missed calls and texts from Y/N, the last text that came through trying to inform him that her water had just broken while on her way to the hospital. After reading that Gemma decided that she had to interrupt the meeting in progress, Clay could kiss her ass if he wanted to raise hell about it.
“What the fu-,” Clay began when the large wooden doors flew open to reveal his wife.
“Y/N’s gone into labor,” she announced as she held out Juice’s phone to him.
The man in question hopped up from his seat, ran around the table and out the door before another word could be said. The rest of the men in the room looked at each other and back to Gemma before each of them ran out of the room as well. Each wanting to get to the hospital before their friend could give birth.
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“You’re doing to good baby,” Juice whispered into his wife’s ear, letting her grip his hand as tight as she needed while he brushed hair away from her face. “Just one more push, one more.”
Y/N squeezed his hand, crushing his fingers but Juice didn’t seem to mind. She pushed, giving it her all until she felt like she couldn’t anymore. Again, and again, she did that until she finally felt the pressure release and she could finally breath again without the pain. But Y/N held her breath until tiny wails sounded throughout the room. Her and Juice letting out a collective breath at the noise.  
“You did so, so good,” Juice said, kissing her forehead as the nurses took their daughter and placed her on Y/N’s chest.
Y/N took a moment to stare at the child in her arms before looking up at her husband. A smile stretched across her face as she did so. She couldn’t believe that the two of them had made it this far. It seemed like just yesterday they were leaving her little town behind to come to California, and now here they were ten years later and a hundred times stronger. And neither of them would trade it for the world.
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lxveille · 3 years
Text
another love song
mk x reader
word count: ~ 2080 warnings: references to alcohol a/n: university!au; another ‘trying to get back into the feel of writing’ fic so... idk ?? tbh it’s more of a fic treatment but here’s what i’m posting anyway
Minkyun has gotten inspiration for his songs from you before. This one is different.
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You’re nearly always the first person to place money into Minkyun’s open guitar case when he’s busking. 
More often than not, he tries to return your money once he’s packed up for the afternoon - but you refuse, and tell him he earned it. Then he usually spends more on you than you gave by buying you bubble tea or coffee before the two of you trek back to campus.
You’re not sure what you’d do with your Saturday afternoons if not for him.
You’d met Minkyun in a literature class your first year of university. At first it had been easy to write him off as a high school class clown having some difficulty adjusting to university expectations. Except that sometimes, when your professor would really dig into the themes of a text, he’d have something to share that would stick with you. A thought - sometimes chaotically explained - that would rumble around in your brain for a week, even. Eventually, you decided a proper introduction was in order. A fatal mistake, if you’d hoped to keep up some aloof, studious front. He had a way of warming others up, it turned out. You discovered he was friends with a number of people with unfriendly faces who somehow transformed into lighthearted, open books in Minkyun’s presence.  
You feel a little lighter around him, too. 
And on the days you don’t, he invites you to unburden. 
It became a common tableau: you sprawled out, exasperated, on the beanbag chair in his dorm room, ranting about anything that bothered you while he lay on his bed, half-propped up against the wall and strumming occasional notes on his guitar. A last complaint and a final chord, and then Minkyun would be on his feet with an idea of what the two of you should do to shake it out of your system for once and for all. Those plans only sometimes included just enough beer that the both of you were giddy and ready to laugh at anything. 
If Minkyun had to name one good reason to get drunk with you, it was this: it was the only time you’d sing. The very first time you let yourself break into song in front of him had been at a bar. It had been difficult to make out your voice over the speakers, but Minkyun heard. Maybe more important, though, was the way you swayed your shoulders and rocked into each syllable. 
He would tease sometimes that you ought to join him when he busked. He might make more with you joining in. 
“Ah, but then you’d have to split it with me, too,” you’d reply. You assumed, at least, that he must be kidding. 
It was spring the first time Minkyun asked you to listen to something original he’d composed. There was something personal about it that had never occurred to you when listening to a song before. For all the times you had watched him play, it was like looking at him from a new angle. Just as his commentary used to linger on your mind, his songs began to do the same.
 And in the winter of your second year, he asked if it’d be okay to use some of your own rants as inspiration in songs. 
“What?” you asked. 
“Just - the way you talk about the guys you’re getting over, and stuff like that. It could make for good lyrics.” 
“You’re going to quote me?”
“Well,” he lingered on the syllable, then broke into a dimpled smile. “No. But I don’t wanna take inspiration without telling you!”
So it happened that when he performed songs of his own, you sometimes began to recognize bits of your own infatuations and fallings outs weaved into his lyrics. The way he framed it, it usually made it easier to get over whoever had been behind the heartbreak. 
Minkyun isn’t busking today. The drizzle is enough that it wouldn’t be worth it. All the same, he spent the better part of the morning sending you messages asking you to come over. 
When you finally cave, you put on a front of unhappiness at the door, shaking out your umbrella before passing it over to his extended hand.
“I brought some stuff for my class so I can try to get work done like I’d planned,” you told him. 
He pouted for dramatic flair. “So you’re really just gonna act like you’re at your room at mine?”
“That’s what we agreed to! I told you I wanna get this reading done so I can just be hungover tomorrow without having to worry about Monday’s lecture.” 
“Damn, and people try to frame university drinkers as irresponsible.” 
“What can I say? I’m flawless,” you comment dryly as you pass into his room. 
“So you’re still going out even if the rain keeps up?” Minkyun asks. He settles into his usual spot near the foot of his mattress. You rummage through your bag for a textbook and your printed copy of the syllabus before finding a spot somewhere closer to the pillow. 
“Mm,” you affirm, “I think I’m officially entirely over Seungcheol, so it’ll be good for me to go out.” 
“Ahhh.” There’s something guttural and mischievous in the way he makes the sound. It’d be fair to expect some ribbing comment on how transparent you could be with these things. No such remark comes. 
It’s some time later, when you’re nearly done with your assigned reading, that Minkyun announces that he finished a new song recently. 
“Like one of your own?” you ask. 
He nods, and adds how he’d been thinking of playing it out this weekend if it hadn’t been for the poor turn in weather. 
You exaggerate a gasp. “You were going to share a song with a crowd before sharing it just with me?” There’s no real offence. It’s only a pattern that you’d noticed. Sometimes he’d say it felt needed, if only because he based part of the lyrics’ premise on your own experiences instead of his own. 
“I know!” Minkyun laughs airly. “Mother nature said not to, I guess!” 
“Well, are you going to play it now then?” You should tell him to wait until you’ve finished this chapter. That way you won’t entirely lose track of things. But you’re not infallible; and if there’s one thing you’re horrible at resisting it’s the chance to hear Minkyun play. 
He hops up from the bed to fetch his guitar. And he plays. 
It’s a love song, which doesn’t come as a surprise. Minkyun told you from the beginning - or at least when he first asked if he could take inspiration from your own heart’s tribulations - that he liked to write about that feeling. The good, the bad, or at the very least what he imagined of it. 
This song doesn’t feel familiar. Usually you can tell when he’s written indirectly about your own affairs. So these endearing words, these syrupy lines of dedication, of patiently waiting for the other one to notice… They must be from his own experience. 
A corner of your heart goes sour at that thought, and retorts that it might be one of his other friends. Devoted and hoping it won’t go unnoticed would be right up Yuto’s alley, you tell yourself as your search for a likely suspect. You don’t let yourself think too much on why you don’t want it to be Minkyun’s own feelings. 
Except there’s something else that bothers you. The way he keeps his eyes on his strumming fingers, or closes them altogether. 
Normally Minkyun looks at you now and then, and smiles at your reactions to his music. Even with the unhappy songs. 
You squeeze the textbook in your lap. A corner digs into your palm. He’s somewhere in the second chorus and your mind is fogging over with an irritation. It’s not his fault. You’re not mad at him. 
You just wish you had realized you want to fall in love with Minkyun sooner.
The last chord hangs in the air before you can fully process this thought. He looks at you expectantly. 
“What do you think?” Minkyun asks. 
You force a smile. “It’s sweet.” 
He leaves space for you to elaborate. When you don’t, the corners of his lips drag down a bit. “Just sweet?” He repeats. “Is it lame?” 
“No! It’s just - it’s different from some of your other stuff. But it’s sweet. I like it. I think, um… I just was expecting it to be something based on my whole recent back and forth thing. Since you wanted to play it for me,” you try to cover for your lackluster response. 
Minkyun looks you over for a moment, then chuckles. “Not every song can be about your love life.” 
“I know! Of course! Geez, that’s not what I meant,” you rush to say, loudly, as if you needed to cover the sound of some kind of fracture in your heart. 
He leans forward to set his guitar carefully on the tiles, its neck leaning against the bed frame. “I guess that’s not totally accurate to say here though.” He shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes as he looks your way again. 
“...What?”  
“Ah… You’re pretty clueless, huh?” Minkyun sounds content with himself, and he’s barely holding back a grin. 
“I’ve never gone on like that about someone.” 
“Yeah, I know.”  
You eye him over a few times quickly, trying to reach a conclusion that feels safe. All you can theorize for sure is that he’s practiced this all, and somehow it’s going to plan. Maybe. “What are you on about?” you ask, tone turning suspicious. 
He laughs more fully now, then shifts his position to face you directly from the other end of his duvet. “You.” 
You glance around him like this could be some hidden camera prank. “What?”
“You,” Minkyun repeats, “It’s about you.” 
In the most foolish move of the day, you suddenly felt your throat dry out the same way it does before you cry. It must have been too much at once: to realize a desire and think it ripped away only to have it suddenly offered up so easily, so soon. 
“You’re not serious.” 
“Is it bad if I am?” he asks, leaning to the right a bit as he watches your reaction. You press your palm to your clavicle, trying to get your heart and your mind in sync. “Am serious, I mean.”  
All you can manage is a shake of your head. 
Minkyun grins bright and leans forward to put a hand over the one still at your side. “You really didn’t notice?” He pulls off incredulous and teasing in one go. If you weren’t so off kilter, you might want to scold him for it somehow. 
“What was I supposed to know?” You ask instead.
He shakes his head. For a fleeting instant, you worry he’s about to brush the whole thing aside. That worry is killed pretty quickly when he leans closer instead and delicately presses an experimental kiss against your lips. 
Minkyun is back to his side of the bed in the next moment, nearly like it hadn’t happened at all.  
Your hand lifts from your clavicle to allow your fingers to brush over your own lips, still tingly with the affection. Or maybe just from his lip balm rubbing off on you. 
He gives you a second more before asking, “Still okay?” 
“Um, yeah.” 
His smile returns. “Still going out to find someone new tonight?” 
“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and accuse, “You’re the worst.”
“So… is that a yes, you are?” 
He knows it isn’t. 
He’s spent all this time getting to know you. Now he gets to be the one on the receiving end of that look in your eyes. 
“Would you stop that?” You muster up as much of a snip in your voice as you can. Your gaze gives away that you’re not really annoyed. It would be difficult to be, given the way your head is still spinning from his confession.    
“Stop what?” 
The smile on his face suggests he already knows. Nevertheless, you don’t give Minkyun the satisfaction of admitting he’s teasing you. “Just kiss me again,” you swerve to a demand. Frankly, it’s the main thing you’d been thinking since the first. You’ll figure out the rest of your feelings later. 
For now, Minkyun is hardly going to deny you that.
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itsadamcole · 3 years
Text
christmas lights - pt. 3
fem!reader x drew mcintyre
reader and drew come face to face ...
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word count: 2.3k+
warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, mentions of being intoxicated, angst, rebuilding of a broken relationship
— part 4 tomorrow, then two more christmas themed imagines after that —
masterlist || request an imagine here
part 1 || part 2 || part 4
***
Weeks pass and you finally reached out to Drew after you've finally calmed down. Candice told you to hear him out so you told him to come by the house today.
Drew is home for a few days so he is stopping by so the two of you can at least air everything out. You don't know if you'll be able to fix the relationship.
You took off your wedding band and engagement ring because looking at them on your finger made you upset. You don't plan on putting them back on today.
You do dress like you haven't been crying your eyes out for the past six weeks. You wear a silky light blue button up and white jeans. You don't bother with putting shoes on so you're barefoot. You tie your hair into a ponytail on top of your head.
Now you wait for Drew to show up. You sit on the couch as you wait. You try to think about something else, anything else, but it's almost impossible. Especially after you hear a car pull into the driveway.
Sighing, you prepare yourself to come face to face with your husband, if that's what he still is. You don't know anymore.
Drew knocks on the door and you get up, walking into the foyer and opening the door.
The Scotsman stands in front of you, and it takes everything in you to not fall into his arms and just cry. He's dressed casually. A t-shirt and jeans with sneakers. His hair is in a low ponytail on the back of his head.
"Hi," you squeak.
Drew says, "Hey. May I come in?"
Nodding, you step aside and he walks in. You close the door and join Drew, who's now in the living room. He looks around at all the pictures you haven't taken down yet.
You ask, "Do you want something to drink?"
He shakes his head and says, "No, thank ya though."
You sit in the comfy chair adjacent from the couch that Drew is now sitting on. He looks over at you and you look down, not wanting to meet his eyes.
"Look, Y/N," Drew sighs. "I'm ripping off the bandaid so we can go back to what we were before. I lied t'ya."
Avoiding eye contact, you say, "No shit, Drew. That's why we're here."
Drew says, "No, we're here because ya took a text out of context. Ya never let me fully explain myself."
Anger starts to rise in you and you say, "The text seemed pretty straight forward, Drew. I gave you the opportunity to explain yourself and you said that you cheated. Plain and simple."
The Scotsman says, "I told ya that I cheated because ya wanted t'hear me say it. I never cheated. I would never do that t'ya, Y/N. Ya know me-"
"I thought I knew you," you interrupt.
Drew says, "Will ya close yer stubborn mouth for two seconds so I can explain what happened?"
You blink at Drew. He's never used that tone with you. That tone of "be quiet or I swear to God". Never has Drew used that tone with you, which makes you be quiet.
As you wait, you cross your arms over your chest. You stay quiet.
Drew begins with, "I wanted t'buy you a present for Christmas and I needed another woman's opinion so I asked my friend Diane t'help me pick it out. That was my first mistake. The lingerie in the picture, that was supposed t'be for ya. Diane, who I've blocked by the way, always used t'tease me because I only have sex every few weeks. She asked if I wanted t'come over and pick it up to give t'ya but ya were home and I didn't want t'leave t'go get it since it had been a while since we've seen each other.
"That's when the picture comes in. She decided to mess with me and send that picture with the text. I never kissed her, I never slept with her, I never flirted with her. Nothing happened. I mean that. I never cheated, and I only told ya that because it's what ya wanted to hear. I've always stayed loyal t'ya, Y/N. I've never even thought about messing with someone else behind yer back," Drew finished.
His explanation lines up with everything, but your stubborn ass never let him fully explain yourself. You have your doubts, yes, but you should have let him explain himself that night.
That night was your worst nightmare come true when it never should have been.
Tears begin to well in your eyes and you mumble, "That makes perfect sense and I didn't believe you."
You cover your face with your hands. You hate that you never let Drew explain himself. You hate that you've been avoiding talking to him for weeks.
He stays quiet and the tears that formed begin to roll down your cheeks. You've hated Drew for the past six weeks when you had no reason. You almost wanted him to tell you he had been unloyal to you because you couldn't believe him at all. He sounded so panicky when he was trying to explain himself all those weeks ago that you thought that he was lying to you.
"I'm so sorry, Drew," you cry, face still covered. "I'm so sorry that I never let you explain yourself."
Drew gets up and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you as he sits on the arm of the chair. You cry into his chest as he says, "No, I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry that I made ya think ya weren't good enough. I'm sorry I made ya ever think that I cheated. Yer perfect for me and I almost ruined it."
You hug him tight and say, "I've hated you for the past few weeks and pushed you away for no reason."
"Hey, ya had every reason," Drew says. "Ya were emotional and I had told ya that I was unloyal. Ya had every right t'hate me and t'push me away, Y/N. I don't blame ya at all, and ya shouldn't blame yourself, love."
You finally look up at Drew, meeting his eyes and you say, "I love you. I never stopped even though I hated you for something you didn't do. I'm so sorry that we couldn't spend the last six weeks together when it's what you wanted."
Drew presses a kiss to your forehead and he says, "We can start over. Clean slates, yeah?"
You nod and say, "Yeah, I'd like that. I need to do one thing first."
He nods and you get up, running up the stairs. You grab your wedding band and engagement ring out of the jewelry box you put them in and put both rings on your finger. Then you grab the present you never gave Drew for Christmas before walking downstairs.
Your husband looks confused as you carry a wrapped gift down the stairs.
"I, um, was never able to give you this," you say. "So Merry belated Christmas, Drew."
The small box is unwrapped once you hand it to Drew. Inside the wrapping paper is a small box. Not the size that would contain a ring, but the size that would contain a bracelet.
Drew opens up the box and smiles when he sees the contents. It's a thin silver bracelet with Drew's initials engraved on one side of the date that's engraved in the metal with your initials engraved on the other side of date. The date is the day you married Drew.
He says, "Y/N. Ya got this fer me?"
You nod and say, "And I'm giving it to you a month and a half later so technically happy early Valentine's Day."
Your husband laughs and puts the bracelet on his left wrist. You notice he's wearing his wedding band. Your heart sinks as you realize he probably never took his off while you did.
Drew looks over at you and he says, "Thank ya, Y/N."
You nod and meet his eyes again. "No more secrets," you say. "Please?"
He shakes his head and says, "No more secrets, I promise. And no more lying."
"Yeah, I agree," you say, giving Drew a small smile.
Drew reaches up and touches your cheek lightly, and you lean into his touch. "Can I kiss ya?" he asks.
You nod and Drew stands up from the arm of the chair. He towers over you and you have to look up at him.
He leans down and lightly presses a kiss to your cheek. You move closer to Drew as the kiss intensifies just a little bit. Your eyes flutter closed and butterflies rise in your stomach as if this was your first kiss again with Drew. It almost feels like it.
The kiss continues for a few moments before Drew pulls away. He says, "I probably have t'build yer trust up again, don't I?"
You look up at him and say, "I mean, I have some doubts but I do believe you for the most part." You take his hand. "But we can't just jump right back into how we were. We've been separated for six weeks."
Drew asks, "What do ya want to do? Do ya want me to stay with Sheamus a little bit longer or I can rent an apartment for a few months that way we can take things slow."
"You don't have to move out," you say, staring up at Drew. "We can asleep in separate bedrooms for a few weeks while we mend the relationship. We're gonna need some boundaries temporarily while we fix things."
He nods and says, "Whatever ya want t'do, Y/N. If ya want me t'stay then I'll stay."
Smiling up at him, you say, "I want you to stay, but separate bedrooms for right now."
Drew says, "Then I'll stay. I'll have Sheamus or Cesaro drop my clothes off later. Right now, I just want t'spend some time with my wife while I'm home."
Your face gets a little flustered as he talks.
You believe that this relationship can be fixed. Drew's explanation makes sense and lines up with a lot. You're just upset with yourself that you never let him explain.
A question pops into your head and you ask, "Drew, how long did you know Diane?"
He says, "I've known her a few months. She works in makeup for Raw and that's how we met. She's become a close friend while I'm on the road."
"Is that why you asked her to help you shop for me?" you ask.
Drew nods and says, "I talked t'her about ya all the time and she knew what ya liked and didn't like. That's how much I talked t'her about ya." A chuckle leaves his lips. "I didn't ask Candice or Indi because I wanted it t'be a surprise and I knew they would probably end up telling ya or ya'd find out because ya always talk to them. So I asked Diane and we shopped when we were in New York. Looking back, I probably shoulda asked Candice."
You listen to the tone of his and he sounds genuine. His accent gets a little thicker when he lies but it stays the same.
"Did she ever try to come onto you?" you ask.
Drew shakes his head and says, "Not that I'm aware of. Maybe I was just oblivious because I was always thinking about ya and when I'd get back t'ya. I always used to say how I'd miss ya and how much I missed us, ya know, having sex or being intimate with each other so she used t'tease me about it. The picture she sent overstepped a boundary that I didn't think I'd needed t'put down so the next day, after I sobered up and everything, I told her that she overstepped, that our friendship was over, and blocked her."
Sobered up? "You got drunk that night?" you ask.
He nods and says, "Severely. Sheamus and Cesaro picked me up and I threw up."
You frown. That's why Sheamus said that Drew wasn't there when you called that night to make sure he made it over okay.
"I called, that night," you admit. "I called Sheamus to see if you made it there okay. My heart sank because I thought you were with her after he told me you weren't there."
Drew crouches in front of you and he says, "I drove to a bar. I drank heavily for a while before Sheamus and Cesaro found me extremely intoxicated. That's all. I wasn't with Diane."
You look into his pretty blue eyes and you feel butterflies as you make eye contact with him. "I know," you say. "I'm sorry for being a terrible wife recently."
Your husband rests his hands on your knees and he says, "Ya have no reason to apologize, love. The past few weeks have all been on me. I gave ya the space ya wanted. I knew ya'd reach out when ya were ready to talk."
Sighing, you run your fingers through Drew's dark hair and you say, "I'm glad you're back. Let's never do that again. Separate, I mean."
He lets out a breathy laugh and says, "I agree. It was terrible."
You laugh a bit and hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close.
You finally feel at home again in Drew's arms. Yes, he has a bit to prove but you're willing to work with him. You believe him and because you love him, you want to make sure this relationship gets fixed because you could never forgive yourself if this relationship ended for any reason.
tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan
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ediths · 4 years
Text
I’m Still Me
Part 2 to Who Are You?
Pairing: Frat!Fuckboy!Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k+
Summary: Peter’s trying really, really hard to win you back. It won’t be that easy this time, though
Warning(s): Some cursing, a sad little Peter Parker, I think that’s all this time though
A/N: Annnnddddd here’s Part 2!! I hope that you like it!! There will definitely be more parts to this!! 
Add yourself to my taglist here 
Masterlist
Peter couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He had been skipping classes, not being able to focus on anything except for the events that unfolded three weeks prior.
“I don’t know this you, and honestly, I don’t want to.” 
That was the last that he had heard from you. He had been calling and texting, trying to get your attention around campus, and even trying to get your friends to talk to you, all to no avail.
Everyone was mad at him. And he knew that he deserved it. You were right. He had changed. He had become the kind of person that he hated in the movies. The jerk that stops caring about anything except when the next party was going to be and who the next girl he was going to be taking to bed.
He had thought that the life he was living was perfect. Until he lost you.
Or so he says.
You had been his best friend since he was a Junior in high school. Maybe he just didn’t know how to function without you.
He met you when you were 15, he thought that you were so young when he met you. Little did he know, you were only slightly more than a year younger. And you were a hell of a lot smarter than he was, so it didn’t really matter how old you were. You were the one that had always held him together.
Maybe that’s why you hadn’t talked when you came to college the year after him. You hadn’t been there to hold him together, and he fell apart.
Poor boy has been doing everything in his power to get you to notice him since that day.
He’s gone so far as to leave you notes where he knows you’ll find them. Which is sweet and all, but you know that the second he convinces you to let him abc into your life, he’ll become a dick again. 
But you already made that mistake once. You won’t be making it again.
You remind yourself of this every single time that you read the texts or the notes.
The one that really got to you the most was one that you knew he couldn’t fake.
He remembers everything about the day that he met you, and he described it to you in that stupid note.
You opened the note in your English class, Peter having somehow slipped it into your bag right next to the book that you had to read for this class.
You swore that someone was working with him, helping him get you back, you just couldn’t figure out who.
That was the only way that these notes could continue to get to you.
I’ll have to figure out if anyone had any idea who it could be later, you thought to yourself as you began to read the note.
Do you remember the first day that we met? Because I do. I’ll never forget that day.
i had just walked into lunch, ready to just sit back and relax, think about anything but school for 30 minutes. But then I saw you. You were exactly where I normally sat. At first, I thought that you had just accidentally sat at the wrong table. But then one of my friends looked over at me.
“Hey, Parker, this is y/n. She’s gonna sit here now.” They looked at me like they dared me to say a single word about it.
Little did they know that there was no way in the world that I would say anything about it. You were the prettiest girl that I had ever seen. And the way you were smiling shyly at me made my knees weak. 
I sat down next to you, introducing myself.
You had the cutest little blush on your cheeks, all flustered from meeting a table full of new people. 
Because you had been invited to sit there, there was less room than usual, so this girl that we were friends with tried to sit on my lap. I wasn’t into that, mostly because I couldn’t stop thinking about that smile that you kept on your face. So, when she tried to sit on my lap, I moved closer to you. I made room for her.
Really, it was a nice excuse to get closer to you.
That day, I got my first ever hug from you, and I was so happy that you felt comfortable enough with me to hug me. I had a smile on my face for the rest of the day.
I looked forward to each and every day that I got to see you.
I’m sorry that I changed. But please, please, let me make it up to you.
I can change back. I’ll be different. I’ll be the man that you deserve.
That was the first note from him that you didn’t rip up and throw away. That was the first of them that really hit you hard. 
Every single one after that just put little cracks in the foundation of the walls that you built to keep Peter out.
For a few weeks, you hated yourself for it. Thought that you were stupid, clueless, and naive for letting him have any affect of you whatsoever. But you couldn’t help it. He knew exactly what to do to get to you.
His onslaught of notes and attempts to get you back in his life continued for a month after you walked away.
And then one day, you didn’t get a text. You didn’t get a call or a note or a friend saying he had asked about you.
You weren’t surprised. Everyone eventually gave up. He just seemed so adamant on getting you back in his life that it seemed it would last forever. Basically you were disappointed, but not surprised.
You went on with your day just like you had before you had ever met him. You focused on the things that were the most important, schoolwork and your mental health. 
You were having a ‘me day’. Movies, face masks, teeth whitening, the whole nine yards.
You had told all of your friends this so that nobody would interrupt.
Which means that you were completely pissed off when the doorbell rang. You sighed the most overdramatic sigh that anyone had ever sighed, and you walked to the door, hair in a messy bun and a bright pink face mask stuck on your face.
“I told you I’m having a - Peter? What are you doing here?” You suddenly became very conscious of what you looked like. Why didn’t you just ignore the door?
“I, uh, I wanted to give you these.” He pulls out a box of chocolate and some flowers.
“You didn’t have to, Peter.” You suddenly feel very guilty for the way you had been ignoring him for the past month. He had been trying his hardest to prove to you that he could be better, that he could go back to being the Peter that you knew and loved. And you didn’t even let him actually speak to you. You didn’t let him get out what he had to say.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I want to show you how much you mean to me. I really do. I miss you so much. Just please, let me say what I;ve been rehearsing in the mirror for the past week, and then you can kick me out if you want to.” The look in his eyes makes it downright impossible to say no to him, so you open the door a little wider and step to the side so that he can walk past you.
He stands in your living room, as if he’s scared of sitting down. Like he thinks that would push you too far.
“You can sit down Peter. The couch won’t bite.” You motion for him to take a seat as you all but flop down onto the couch.
He lets out a dry chuckle as he sits down next to you.
“Do you want to give me that speech now?” You ask after a few minutes go by in silence.
“Right, right. Um, look. I know, I messed up. I became the guy that I hated and said that I would never turn into. I promised you that I would never turn into a guy that you would hate. And I know that I broke that promise. But please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top, let me have one more chance. I will prove to you that I am not the person that I have turned into since college started. This isn’t who I want to be. I want to be your best friend. I want to be the guy that makes you proud to have me in your life. I want to be the kind of guy that your parents can go back to liking. I want to be everything you want me to be and more. I’ll stop going to the parties. I’ll stop with the girls. I’ll only go to the mixers that are mandatory because of the frat. I won’t be the one who plans these crazy ridiculous things. I’ll stop with all of it. The drinking, the smoking weed, the everything. Just please, give me a chance. Let me show you that I’m still me.” His eyes are pleading with you, begging you to give him just one more chance, just one more to prove himself. To show you just how much better that he can be.
“Peter, you can’t just change for me. You have to change for yourself. I can’t be the reason that you change, because unless you want to change, doing this is going to make you hate me. Giving up the parties and the girls is going to make you hate me. Because it will be my fault that you don’t have those things anymore.”
“I want to change. I really do. I don’t need those things anymore, all I need is you. Without you, none of things mean anything to me anyway. And I know you may not believe me now, but I swear, I’m going to show you, if you give me this chance.”
“I don’t give people second chances, Peter. And I sure as hell don’t give people third chances.” You can see his face visibly fall at this. “So, you better not waste it, Peter, because it will not be happening again.”
“He throws his arms around you, obviously too excited to contain himself anymore.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You giggle at how excited he is.
“Don’t make me regret this, Parker.” You can’t help but let your arms snake their way around his waist, enjoying the hug.
“I won’t. I promise you.”
“Alright, so how are you proving it to me?”
“We start tomorrow. Be ready by 7, I’ll be back to pick you up.” He says as he gets up and walks toward the door.
“Alright, what should I wear?”
“Something that makes all the other guys wish you were with them.” He says, making you blush.
“Alright, I’ll try.”
“Actually no, wear a dress. Whatever you want. All the guys would be wishing you were theirs even if you were in a potato sack. So just, wear a dress. One that makes you feel comfortable. You’ll look great in anything.”
You’re blushing even harder as he walks out and you shut the door behind him.
What did you just get yourself into?
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People who were interested in the Part 2 (If any of you want to be added to any taglist, use the link up above:)) : @pure-ghost, @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming, @cosmiccomicloverqueen
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