#and he’s like i don’t know how i was able to give class yesterday. i was disociating so hard i don’t remember what i did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leaderwonim · 2 months

Text

✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.

pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader

genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten

synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?

author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!

Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.

Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.

“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.

“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”

Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”

“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.

“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”

You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.

“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.

“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”

Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”

You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.

“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”

“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.

“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”

“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.

“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”

“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”

“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”

Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.

“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.

“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.

“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”

“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.

“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”

Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.

“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.

“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.

“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.

“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”

“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”

It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.

“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”

You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.

“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”

Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”

But it wasn’t.

You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.

With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.

“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.

If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.

“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”

“I’ll go with him.”

For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.

“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”

“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”

“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”

But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.

As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.

“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”

He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.

“I promise.”

You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.

The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.

As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.

“You okay Kyung?”

You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.

“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”

You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.

“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.

“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”

“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”

“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”

Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”

Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.

“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.

“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”

Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.

“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.

“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.

“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.

You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”

“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”

You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.

When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.

“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”

“It feels fine when I’m with you.”

The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.

“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.

“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.

“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.

“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.

“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”

Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.

“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.

“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.

You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.

You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.

“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.

“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”

You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”

Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.

“Seung, please. You need your energy.”

Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.

“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.

He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.

Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.

Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.

Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.

Does that mean.. ?

No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.

Would she?

“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.

The zombies had reached your classroom.

“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”

Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.

“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.

“Yes, let’s wake the others.”

You two start tapping your classmates awake.

“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”

Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.

“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”

A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.

“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.

“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”

“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.

“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”

Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.

Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.

“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”

Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.

“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.

“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”

Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”

His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.

“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”

He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.

They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.

“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”

“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.

The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.

Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.

“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”

You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.

“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.

“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”

He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.

Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.

But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.

1K notes · View notes

soupandsimple · 5 months

Text

Coach P. (With James Potter)

[ gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class ]

* simple fluff 💜

** muggle au

This was requested: see the ask here

……………………….

Knock knock knock

You looked over to the little window of your classroom door while in the middle of demonstrating to your students how to create clean, even coverage brush strokes with a paint brush and saw James Potter, the school’s gym teacher waving at you.

You smiled, held up your pointer finger informing him to give you a moment and continued on explaining the method.

“There, that easy” you said to the group of twelve year old children once you finished. “Now I want you all to practice this technique on the mosaic sheet designs you made yesterday. I’ll be coming around checking your progress in a bit,” you concluded.

As the kids stood up to gather their painting supplies from the back of the room, you went over and finally opened the door.

“Sorry for the wait” you apologized to James.

“No, no- you’re here to do your job. I have no trouble waiting around for you…here, I brought you these” he said, handing you a bag of fruit snacks that were carried in the school’s vending machines.

“Ugh, you know I can’t say no to fruit snacks” you admitted as you grabbed the bag. “I’ll just save them for later, it makes me sad to eat them with the students watching” you forced a little laugh as you set them on your desk.

“Such a thoughtful thing you are,” James half joked, half gushed.

“As are you coach Potter,” you playfully bantered back, resulting in a shared shy laugh as you each looked in different directions.

“No but seriously though James, thank you for the snacks,” you spoke in your normal tone of voice now, with a smile of gratitude on your lips.

Before James could reply, Lawrence, one of the more outspoken boys of his year, called out, “Hey coach P, why do you always come in here during our class?”

Some of the students laughed while others internally gasped and stared at each other with knowing looks, looks that told you they all speculated there was something between you and James.

“Uhh..well it’s my free period Lawrence,” James replied back as casually as he could.

“Yeah but you like always come in here, can’t you go home during your break or take a nap?”

“No, work is still work. I can’t leave the school and I certainly can’t sleep.”

“That sucks Coach…I bet you still look forward to your free period everyday anyways don’t you?” Lawrence said with three comical eyebrow wiggles.

A group of girls giggled and even you wanted to laugh at the fact that James was being called out by a twelve year old but luckily you were able to contain your lips in a subtle smile.

A red hue quickly spread across James’s cheeks as he let out an airy chuckle, “Okayyyy Lawrence, enough of that. Why don’t you get back to your work.”

Lawrence shrugged and went on about his business.

What the students didn’t know was that during the summer, James and you had been set up on a blind date by mutual friend Remus Lupin but that once you met and found out you’d be working at the same school that year, you both decided it’d be better to keep things simple and just be friends. The feelings between you two, however, were undeniable and it was really only a matter of time before you both accepted you were not meant to limit yourselves to a friendship.

“Well, I should go,” James said pointing to the door with both hands then walking backward towards it to keep an eye on you. “But oh, hey, you going to Rem’s birthday dinner tomorrow night?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Good, um me too. I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah, see you there,” you assured him happily with a little wave goodbye.

James smiled and cutely saluted you in exchange of a wave and as he walked out of the door, Lawrence eagerly shouted out …

“Have a good weekend coach P!”

… to which James pretended not to have heard and kept on his way without a look back.

Naturally though, he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped his lips as he exited, just as your lips did the same inside because you both knew you’d be getting to see each other outside of school hours for a change; and well, that certainly made for a good weekend. <3

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fic

641 notes · View notes

jjkeverlast · 9 months

Text

seven days a week | jjk (m)

>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader

>> genre/au's friends with benefits | college AU | smut | crack

>> summary jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.

>> word count 2.4k

>> author's note so sorry for the delay babes!! i accidentally fell asleep yesterday while writing... hope you enjoy!! <3 also, shout out to @frieschan for giving me ideas dhsfjfhjsd love ya babe

masterlist for seven days a week

There isn’t anyone to blame but yourself. After all, you’re the one that left Jungkook after he had silently admitted he was jealous. The reason behind it is something you’re still trying to figure out. You’re uncertain about how your body reacted, but mostly you’re afraid of the definite answer.

That night, you stared at your ceiling, reminiscing every moment you’ve had with Jungkook since the first semester. It was weird in a way, because before you and Jungkook started casually hooking up, you were an amazing pair of friends. Until the Halloween party happened and you both had way too many jello shots. Jungkook initiated the first kiss on the porch, whispering how he’s going to do something incredibly stupid but he can’t contain himself anymore. You found it cute, reciprocating the kiss back, it evolving into something more and now you’re here. Having sex whenever either of you text, mostly it’s Jungkook, and leaving each other as if nothing happened. You still act like great friends, in class too, no one batting an eye in your direction when it comes to your ‘so-called relationship.’

Jungkook was always a friend, one you occasionally hooked up with on the daily but again, a friend.

Until recently, when things had taken a drastic turn. Ever since Jimin openly admitted that Jungkook has always liked you, everything changed. Then, yesterday, he silently admitted he was jealous by kissing you rather than walking out as you expected. It was messy, all of it. Mostly because you were still uncertain what exactly you felt for Jungkook.

But then, why is your heart breaking watching him kiss someone else in the corner of the living room at this party? Why does it hurt you?

The answer stays buried, too scared to admit towards yourself that he might mean much more than you thought.

Jungkook removes himself from the person’s face, them tracing their tongue all over his neck and that’s when he locks eyes with you. You quickly look away, staring down at your half filled cup. Suddenly you start feeling sick, your stomach playing tricks on you, leading you to walk towards the bathroom in a hurry. Jungkook watches you scramble away, almost as if you were caught staring and Jungkook’s curiosity peaks at your behavior.

Something everyone knows about you, you’re hard to read, no one being able to read through you despite the situation. Jungkook has always had a hard time, trying to see if you’ll ever become vulnerable around him but it never seemed to happen. Still, Jungkook loved being around you. Which also explains why he’s currently following you, leaving the person he spent the last thirty minutes making out with stranded.

He finds you sitting down, leaning your head on the bathroom door, it being occupied by someone not feeling their best.

You hadn’t expected Jungkook to be standing here, looking down at you with a worried gaze.

“Hey…” He starts off, fiddling with his silver necklace.

You stand up abruptly. “What are… What are you doing here?” You can’t look directly at him, instead focusing on the tiny details of his oversized t-shirt.

“Why’d you leave like that?”

A simple question, yet you find it hard to answer. It’s not because you don’t want to, you just don’t have an actual answer. You’re still trying to find it yourself. Why did you leave like that?!

“I don’t know.” You settle on.

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head while his grasp tightens around the plastic cup. “Aren’t you tired?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow. “Tired?”

Jungkook steps closer to you, his feet almost touching yours. “This game, where you pretend that you don’t like me.” He tilts his head, his eyes locked onto yours.

You turn your head, avoiding his eyes, scoffing. “I’m not pretending.”

“Right.”

You think it’s the end of the conversation, stepping sideways to move downstairs and find Jimin.

But before you can, Jungkook grabs your elbow gently. “Y/N.”

“What?” You’re still not looking at him.

“Look me in the eyes, and tell me you don’t like me.”

You debate if you should turn and say it so you can leave, but a part of you holds you off. You keep still for a good second, Jungkook growing a smile behind you.

“Okay.” He says, sounding like he won and knows you like him. But the wall you’ve put up for yourself throughout college is not about to break over this. So, instead you turn, fixating your eyes on his.

You wait a second, stocking all your emotions on a shelf before speaking. “Jeon Jungkook. I don’t like you.”

In under mere seconds, Jungkook’s expression falters. His brows drop along with his smile. He clenches his jaw, looking away as he walks past you. He seems angry, and you can’t really understand why because if there’s anything Jungkook never is, is angry. It stuns you, causing you to swallow a clump, feeling suddenly small and uncomfortable in the space where everything went down between you.

You walk away, trying to find Jimin but instead you catch Jungkook grabbing his jacket and walking out of the party in a hurry.

Forcing yourself to find Jimin is hard, because every inch of you wants to run after Jungkook, fix everything you’ve messed up by lying to him. He deserves the truth, even though you’re scared of what will happen.

Fuck it.

You grab your jacket, slamming the door behind you shut and running towards Jungkook who’s walking with his head down.

“Jungkook!” He flinches, turning around slowly.

“What are you—“

“I’m such a liar.” You say, moving towards him with full speed and kissing him. Jungkook stumbles back, in shock of you kissing him after you rejected him coldly.

“I like you. I do. I’m sorry.” You mumble against his lips, causing his own to stretch into a genuine smile.

You continue to kiss on the street, the loud music from the party growing distant. Jungkook grabs your face gently, tracing his fingers all over the edges, admiring you while you look at him.

“You were scared, weren’t you?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, letting your guard down and being completely honest.

“I’m scared too.” He admits, pecking your lips.

“So… What now?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering if Jungkook has any thoughts of what’s bound to happen between you.

“Want to come back to mine?” He suggests, his hold tightening as you smile at the request.

“I’d love to.”

One thing, you have never been at Jungkook’s place. While you both were actively hooking up, your dorm was easiest because Jungkook lives a few minutes away from campus in a shared apartment with a guy named Namjoon. He’s spoken once or twice about him, telling you how great he is and how he’s become an inspiration for Jungkook throughout college.

You aren’t exactly expecting anything from Jungkook’s place, but you have a certain idea of what it looks like.

When you both finally arrive, you notice how you weren’t quite wrong. The apartment is cozy, plants in some corners and very suitable. Jungkook takes off his belongings while you do the same, noticing how the apartment is completely dark.

“Namjoon is gone for the weekend, he’s visiting his family.” Jungkook explains, noticing how your head tilts to catch a sign of his roommate.

“Bummer…” You mumble, a bit excited to meet Namjoon.

“You can meet him when he’s back. He’s been wanting to meet you, as well.”

“Is that so?” Jungkook’s ears turn red, realizing he’s admitted how he talked about you to his roommate. Fuck, he truly does like you. The thought affects your heart, making it pound loud enough for anyone to hear.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room.” You nod, trailing behind Jungkook in the darkened hallway. Jungkook swings his door open, turning on the lights and it’s just as you imagined. The color palette, the set up and how his covers match the color on the walls.

“Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?”

“Sure.” Your heart flusters, still in shock over how you’re currently in Jungkook’s place and how you both admitted you like one another.

Jungkook pecks your lips, moving towards his white cupboard and fetching you a t-shirt and some boxers. When you grab ahold of it, you turn around walking towards the bathroom.

Yes, he’s seen you naked plenty of times but it’s different. You’ve grown timid regarding everything, and Jungkook isn’t any better. He’s fumbling with words while you scurry out to change.

While you’re away, Jungkook makes sure his bed is ready for the both of you to lay in. He’s getting nervous, because this will be the first time you’re going to sleep besides one another. Jungkook tries to lay in different positions, uncertain if he should lay down or sit on the edge. As you walk in, you find Jungkook shuffling on the bedsheets, mumbling nonsense to himself.

“Are you okay?” You ask with a tint of humor, adoring the sight of a nervous Jungkook in front of you.

“Of course!” He tries to prove to you he isn’t internally panicking over this. Cute.

You don’t respond, instead moving towards him on the bed and pulling the covers to lay underneath. Jungkook notices how comfortable you are in his bed, his clothes and everything feels unreal.

He takes a second, before joining you and holding you flush against him. Your hand intertwines with his, as his arm is snaked around your waist.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook asks with caution. You look behind you. “Yeah.” You answer, kissing him softly before returning to your position.

Jungkook nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, pecking your skin with his soft lips. Your heart flutters at the sweet gestures, enjoying the warmth that’s invading your whole body.

“What made you realize you like me?” Jungkook suddenly questions.

You trail your fingers on his tattooed hand, taking a second to truly reflect on when it happened. “I think a part of me always has… But I was scared and I pushed everything away.”

“Relationships are scary…” Jungkook admits.

“Yeah. But, I’m willing to overcome that fear to try this with you.” Jungkook grabs your face, making you turn to look at him. His gaze is soft, eyes tracing each detail of your face as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“Me too. You have no idea.” Jungkook whispers, leaning forward to kiss you again. Jungkook tastes like everything that’s good about this. You curl your hand around his neck, fingers fiddling through his soft hair as the kiss grows more heated.

Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist, pushing himself forward so you can feel him growing under the material of his sweatpants. You’re no better yourself, your core starting to dampen.

What started as an innocent kiss, turns into you both moaning in each other’s mouths as you grind on each other shamelessly. Jungkook’s pressing his hard-on in against your ass, while you push it towards him growing more needy by the minute.

“Do you want this?” Jungkook pulls away to ask.

“Yeah, I want you.” You respond with certainty.

Jungkook grins, returning to kiss you roughly, caressing and pulling every part of your body.

The heat grows in the room, your bodies heating up beneath the covers. Jungkook pulls it down, noticing how you’re resting one of your legs on him, spreading out for him. He doesn’t waste another second, placing his hand on where you need him the most. The material of the boxers is wet and Jungkook grows dizzy by the thought of how wet you are already.

“Fuck—“ You breathe out, enjoying the feeling of Jungkook’s fingers tracing on your lips and clit. It’s hard for you to kiss back with every movement, so Jungkook settles on kissing you on the neck instead, biting it a bit.

Jungkook rubs down on your clit, while letting you feel him fully hard behind you.

“Jungkook— I need you.” He doesn’t answer, instead he pushes himself upward to remove his sweatpants and his boxers on you. He’s about to grab a condom when you stop him.

“I want to feel all of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m on birth control, and I trust you.”

“Okay.” He closes his drawer, moving back towards you. He places his cock in between your thighs, feeling how wet you are and you both hiss by the close contact.

Jungkook pushes you against him, moving his hip upwards as his cock slides in with ease. Both of your mouths are agape, panting and moaning by the feeling. Jungkook thrusts upwards, holding you around the waist while his tattooed hand rubs down on your clit at the same time.

The intensity grows a lot quicker, your brain shutting off completely as you let yourself feel everything. Jungkook has never felt you clench around him so much, making it hard for him to last long because fuck, he can feel all of you. He can feel how warm you are, and wet.

“Shit—“ Jungkook breathes out behind you, forehead planted on the nape of your neck. You can’t even respond, too overwhelmed by everything. Jungkook doesn’t ever stop moving, his thrusts precise and consistent.

You can feel yourself grow closer, although the feeling is a lot more intense than you had expected. It’s something unfamiliar and a part of you is scared yet curious.

“Fuck— Jungkook I’m.” You grab onto his waist, tightening around him as your body tenses for a second.

Jungkook quickens his movements, hitting your g-spot continuously and that sets you off. As you come undone, Jungkook notices you squirting all over the sheets.

The sight and thought of you squirting because of him, causes Jungkook to come only a few thrusts later. When he finally pulls out, he notices you covering your face almost in shame.

Jungkook is still in shock over what just happened, because throughout your deal, never once had you squirted. Hell, Jungkook hadn’t even known he was capable of making someone squirt.

“Holy shit.” Jungkook exclaims, beginning to laugh as he’s delighted over the situation.

“Shut up!” You mumble, still covering your face.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Jungkook has never been more honest in his life.

“Don’t say that—“ You almost sound frustrated, and Jungkook figures it’s due to you getting affected by his words.

“Come on baby, let’s go shower.” He kisses you all over, trying to make you feel better and you give in.

After a warm shower, you both return under the covers, your head on Jungkook’s chest as he nuzzles your arm.

With a few words exchanged, you both fall asleep, unaware that this will be the best sleep you’ll both have in years.

taglist for this series;

@royallyjjk @fandems @lukeys-giggle @junniesoleilkth @katie-tibo @effielumiere @babigriin @cocopuffsilove @exactlygreatcoffee @shameless-army @frieschan @fairy-jaykay @thvhoe @taebangtanbabe @parkjammys @bloopkook @canyon-lwt @borahaexoxo @iffyleafy @kookswifesblog @astralmono @skzthinker @joonblogz @evajeonsworld @justanotherkpopstanlol @younhakim29 @needausernamepl @rinkud @jungkookie94 @revluvexo-ls @jiminswh0re @kimsharon-2430 @chimmisbae @jjkluvcloudsworld @laylasbunbunny @queen-in-the-shadows @moonstar127 @ediary2 @whatfandomnow @jimmeojimin @ikpopwriting @burnahtsw @jkslaugh97 @hopeworldjimin @hoseokteardrop @justaprettywriter @gummymintae

[if your tag doesn't work, that means i'm unable to tag you :(((]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #bts jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook drabble #jungkook drabble

811 notes · View notes

astronomysturniolos · 2 months

Text

chris sturniolo x reader

who really are you? pt 2

warnings: mention of passed away dad, alcoholic mother

summary: you are the quiet girl, while chris is the loudest in the room. what happens when you two start finding out you are more alike than you originally thought?

——————————————————

this week has been one of the weirdest weeks of my life. not because of the weirdos at work, or my mom, none of that. it’s because of chris.

ever since the first day of senior year this week, and we had our very small encounter, he’s always managed to be around me. maybe i never noticed it because i didn’t pay attention to any one but annie, but it’s like he’s practically my shadow. following me to my classes, behind me when the bell rings on my way to the parking lot, hell i even see him passing by my classroom window during class. and it’s not the subtle, i recognize you, type of encounters. no. we always some how make eye contact, brush across eachothers shoulders, or even spare a quick sorry if we shove one another in the crammed hallway.

now it’s the end of the day, and im on my way to my car when my phone starts ringing, making me stop in the middle of the parking lot, my long, dark, red hair flowing in the wind. i grab my phone out my pocket and read the name across my screen. mom. oh god. my mother. never there for her children, but there for the alcohol money, or when she runs out of bars to attend because they all kicked her out.

ever since my dad passed freshman year, she got like that. the abusive alcoholic. i mean, she was always a heavy drinker. but when my dad was here, he was able to control her and she wasn’t as miserable, so there was no need to drown her feelings into a bottle. but now that he’s gone, it being her fault, i guess she feels some guilt. which she should. and is taking it out on me.

i pick the phone up “hello?” i say, in more of a questioning tone. considering i already told her i have no money yesterday after she came tumbling into our home at 3am, with some random guy i don’t know, asking for a couple bucks to take her new hookup to the bar with.

“hey y/n, listen, you think you could loan your old girl some money, it’s tight for me right now” she says, almost inaudible considering she’s slurring every word. i sigh thinking of a calm way to react. “no mom, i already told you yesterday i have nothing. the gas station isn’t gonna give me another raise for a couple months” i reply, raking me hands through my hair. “well that’s just selfish y/n, do you know how much i do for you.” i roll my eyes. “all the times i’ve worked day and night just for you to eat and have a roof over your head.” i have to refrain from laughing because i’m the only income for this small apartment, working shifts at the corner store everyday from the minute i get off of school, until 1am. “no wonder your dad decided to give up, he knew you would never appreciate him.” wow. low-blow.

for the first time in a while, my moms words had an effect on me. whenever she brings up my dad, my innocent, loving, thoughtful dad, she knows what it does to me. he was too good for this world. for her. and she knows it, she just wants to get under my skin. which she did. i just won’t let her know that. “i don’t have time for this, i have to get to work, because you know, where else would you bring guys home.” i say, hanging up after, not caring what she has to say anymore. i take a deep breath, ready to get back to my car before i feel a hand on my shoulder.

i turn my head only to be frozen. chris is standing in front of me, with a facial expression that i can never understand. he looks like he feels every emotion at once. “yo” he says, and i just nod my head as a reply just wanting to get into my car and hide. “you think you could help me with the homework from math today, i don’t know what the fuck that lady be talking about, and your hella smart so i need an A if i wanna stay on the lacrosse team, and your the best person i could ask” he says his hand still on my shoulder, as he tilts his head waiting for an answer. a smug smile on his face. “sure chris, whatever” i reply, genuinely not hearing what he is saying. “cool, lemme slide your number then?” he says. “huh?” my eyebrows scrunch in confusion, that being the only sentence i understood this entire conversation. “your number” he says “for the homework?” he follows. “ohh yeah sure” i say “chill” he replies

he takes his phone out his pocket of his sweats, his fingers being covered by his slightly oversized lil skies sweatshirt. “sweet, skies is the goat” i say, before i can even stop myself. “huh?” he says as he opens his phone and hands it to me to put my number in. “oh, uhm, your shirt. i love his music” “ohhh, yeah he’s great” he replies, laughing. and damn that smile. ugh stop it y/n.

“here you go” i say after putting in my number. “alright thank you, when are you free?” he asks, glancing at his phone and putting it away after. “great question” i reply sarcastically. “busy women huh, lachance?” what. the. fuck. he knows my last name, and they way he tilts his head, i wonder how his head would feel… stop it.

“if your implying sitting at a counter at seven eleven busy, than yep. never free” i reply smiling, slightly laughing. “ahh, okay well just facetime me when you get a chance” he replies laughing, and walking away with a smile on his face.

i walk away, but not without looking at him first. i stare at his back as he walks away like a weirdo, but to my surprise he looks back, giving me a dirty look. okay wow. what the fuck. it doesn’t really faze me, although he was so sweet when he wasn’t in the ear shot of anyone else, he is also known to be a big dick to everyone.

i get in my car, start it, and instantly play my playlist, the first song coming on, lust by lil skies. fuck. the universe is really against me today.

——————————————————

anna speaks: ayyyyeee part 2. hope yall like it, getting more chris and y/n content. also i’ve never wrote a whole series, and i’ve only wrote maybe 5 short stories, so lmk how i did🤗🤗

tag list: @w4nnabeurs @cosmicmistake42069

168 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 2 months

Text

not that bad at all - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x partner!reader [requested] ✉️: …maybe the reader is badass and Violet is afraid of her, so when they have to fight, Violet poisons her like the rest, and Bodhi stops what he was doing to take care of her and he worries about her, and Violet notices that she is not that bad and asks for forgiveness. words: 1.6k 🏷: very basic fourth wing spoilers, one use of “her” to describe reader but that’s it, descriptions of dizziness and fainting, short description of injury (for Violet), everyone’s favorite girl makes an appearance (iykyk 😇), I made X a bit of a jerk here but he’s going through it honestly so he gets a pass lol

It’s easy enough for Violet to dust the white powder onto the last available bagel right before you place it on your tray.

You don’t notice what she’s done, too busy talking to Imogen. It’s strange for her to see the girl so docile like this, chatting happily about some maneuver one of you had pulled on a practice flight yesterday, but Violet is thankful for the distraction she provides.

She watches from across the room as you settle into a chair near a boy in her year — Liam, the tall blonde who’s been top of the class in Emeterrio’s since day one. He greets you with a smile, continuing to chat with the other marked ones at the table.

You look terrible as you step toward the mat when your name is called, flushed and sweating like you’ve been running for miles. It’s a miracle you’re still holding yourself upright.

You can do this. Of course you can. The general’s daughter should be easy work with how fragile she is. You won’t kill her, per Xaden’s insistence, but you’ll get her to tap out in under two minutes, guaranteed.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the dizzy feeling before the fight starts.

“Ready, cadets?“ Emeterrio asks. You can tell he’s giving you a moment out of pity, that he knows something is wrong.

Your dragon does too. “This is not a good idea.”

You ignore her. “Ready,” you confirm, wavering.

You try to move your feet into a proper fighting stance, but the floor seems to shift underneath your boots like wet sand, and you collapse onto the mat before the professor can say go. There are a few gasps from the crowd of cadets around the gym.

“I yield,” you mumble into the slick padding, knowing that even if you can manage to peel yourself back up, you won’t be able to overpower her when you can’t see straight.

Violet sighs in relief. You’re still aware enough to know what you’re supposed to be doing. That’s good. That means she got the dosage correct, and that you should be fine again in about eight hours.

“You were right,” you admit silently.

“Of course I was right.”

Violet’s pride is replaced with guilt as another cadet rushes to your side, looking deeply concerned.

Your vision focuses enough to recognize your boyfriend’s face leaning over you. Cold hands cradle your cheeks and you squirm away from the touch, delirious.

“You’re burning up, love,” he says, tugging your sleeves up in an attempt to cool you off, exposing the black swirls running down your left arm. He takes your pulse, and your heart is racing. Something is definitely wrong.

He looks to the professor. “Permission to take her to the infirmary?”

“Granted,” Emeterrio says, unfazed. “Barlowe and Cardulo, you’re up next.”

That will be a good matchup. Maybe one of them will kill the other, and decrease Violet’s list of enemies by one.

The other cadet gathers you into his arms, helping you up, as you clearly can’t stand on your own, and Violet’s heart nearly stops as she realizes who he is.

Bodhi. Tail section’s executive officer, Bodhi. Xaden’s cousin, Bodhi. Fuck.

She can feel multiple sets of eyes boring into her skin. Her gaze lifts to the other side of the gym, where Xaden is glaring directly at her, along with a few other marked ones. They all look like they know exactly what she did, and they’re contemplating how best to kill her.

Something tells her that Jack won’t be as much of a threat as the rest of your friends.

————————————————————

You crack an eye open, wincing at the brightness of the infirmary.

Bodhi is standing over you in an instant, dimming the light. “How do you feel?” He rests the back of his hand on your forehead; your fever has dulled, but you still feel warm to the touch.

“Better, but still not great,” you answer, coughing into your elbow. “It’s like a flu that should have lasted a week just condensed into a day.”

He extends you a glass of water and you take a slow sip — you’ve been sweating so much that it’s completely dehydrated you.

“What do you make of the Sorrengail girl?” You ask. “Every one of her opponents in the last two weeks has mysteriously ended up ill.”

“You’re right,” he says slowly, putting it together. “But why just put you out of the lineup for a few days? If she’s really doing this, why is she not taking it further and just killing people?”

“Murder just isn’t her style, I guess.”

“I’m glad it isn’t,” he says quietly. “When you hit the floor like that all of a sudden… I’ve never been that scared in my life. I thought I was going to lose you.”

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. “It’ll take much more than a bad bagel to kill me,” you reassure him, sitting up to kiss his cheek. “You’ve made sure of that.”

He still looks worried when you pull away, but you know what will relax him.

You look at the clock. “We have an hour and a half until dinner. Wanna go shower and cuddle for a while?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. You smile. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

At dinner, Xaden makes it abundantly clear that nobody is to seek revenge on the girl, which has Garrick grumbling and Imogen downright outraged, but you’re fine with the decision: if she’ll leave you alone, you’ll leave her alone.

————————————————————

The rest of your friends are celebrating — Liam and the two other marked first years have been chosen by strong dragons who will serve them well and provide them powerful signets.

It’s not unusual for the eldest of your group to be withdrawn and aloof, but Xaden looks like he’s going to be ill.

“Tab says that Tairn chose Violet Sorrengail,” Garrick’s girlfriend says in a whisper, knowing better than to let the wingleader hear her.

Your eyes widen. Tairn, Sgaeyl’s mate, Tairn? “I guess that makes her our problem now.”

If Violet dies, so does your friend.

So much for keeping your distance.

————————————————————

When Violet gets to the gym for the workout Imogen had roped her into, it’s full of marked ones.

Bodhi is sparring with a boy whose name Violet doesn’t know, looking like they’re going to kill each other but laughing as they do. Xaden wrestles with Garrick, Imogen is throwing daggers with Liam, and a quiet third-year girl in the corner looks to be… meditating?

You spot Violet standing in the doorway, heading over, and her heart pounds, wondering what you’re going to say to her after what she did to you.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead with a small towel. “Cool hair,” you say with a nod at her silver-tipped braid, and she blinks, stunned — probably wondering why you aren’t biting her head off.

“Thanks,” she replies quietly. “Sorry for poisoning you.”

You laugh at her honesty, extending a hand to shake. “Square?”

“Square,” she answers, taking it.

“Good. Now let’s see you fight, for real.”

It takes all of five minutes for something to go wrong — an awkwardly angled kick to her knee that she can’t dodge has her crumpling to the mat, lower leg bent at an unnatural angle.

Oh, fuck. Xaden will be pissed if you’ve broken her on day one.

“Angel, we need you,” you call, and the quiet girl’s eyes snap open, at your side in an instant.

Warm hands touch her skin, and Violet startles as the pain dissipates, the bone gliding back into place. She stares at your friend, stunned. “You’re a mender?”

“Not a very good one,” she answers, anxious. “And I’m sorry, I should have asked before I just… does it feel okay now?”

“Yeah, that was great.” Violet flexes the joint a few times, without pain. “Just like my brother used to do.”

There’s a flicker of… something across the older girl’s face, but it vanishes as soon as Garrick puts a gentle hand on her back, genuine worry on his face as he looks at her. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers, giving him a soft smile.

Xaden is feeling much less warm and fuzzy, eyeing Violet with generalized contempt.

You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a warning look. “Don’t even start, X. She’s trying her best.”

“If that’s her best, she’s going to get us both killed,” he says coldly.

“Which is why we’re working on it. Aretia wasn’t built in a day, and neither were any of us. She’ll get better.”

“Fine. Then training her is your responsibility now, since you’re so optimistic, but should you fail, her blood and mine will be on your hands.”

“Xay, that’s not…” the mender begins, but she falls silent quickly after seeing the look on his face.

“Fine,” you agree, standing your ground. “I’ll train her as a personal favor to you because of what you’ve done for all of us, and because I don’t want to see her die, but you need to stop being a dick. You didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but neither did she.”

Nobody looks surprised at your defense of Violet, nor your candid speech to the wingleader. Nobody speaks, either, letting you two stare each other down in silence — this must not be the first time you’ve argued with him.

Xaden sighs, clearly having something to say, but he doesn’t protest further, turning to leave.

Violet’s eyebrows raise. You defended her, the girl who poisoned you last month, and you got Xaden Riorson to back down from a fight?

Bodhi puts a hand on your shoulder, checking in silently — that was pretty intense.

You give him a reassuring half-smile. “It’s okay, Bo. He just needs time.” You look down to Violet. “Wanna try that again?”

She nods, letting you pull her to her feet.

You’re really not that bad at all.

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #reader insert #mine

151 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 6 months

Text

Revenge

Flufftober Day 18: Teacher AU

literature teacher!Loki Laufeyson x math teacher!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

AN: I actually love this one so much. I also just realized that we are over halfway done with Flufftober which is kind of sad. Anyway, we've got 13 more days left and I'm looking forward to the plans I have for each one. If you liked this story please reblog and I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You are going to kill him. You are going to murder that man. You stayed after your last class yesterday so that you would be able to draw out the problems that your students would have to solve for class today. Now, written right on top of your trigonometry diagrams were the words:

“Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are talking about, nor whether what we are saying is true. -Bertrand Russell”

Written in the ever so familiar scrawl of the Literature Teacher, Mr. Laufeyson. Loki was a nice guy, a great teacher, and at times, a giant pain in your ass. You have no idea how this little feud of yours got started but you are certain that it has escalated beyond what it once was.

At the start, it was just funny little jokes between the two of you. He had once stolen all of the red pens that you used to grade your student’s quizzes and when you went to go look for them, they had all been taped together in one big ball and were sitting in your “Math is Fun” mug that you kept in the teacher's lounge. That was annoying and you also had no real way of knowing who had done it. Until he had brought it up the next day and asked how grading had gone.

You had retaliated by going in early the next morning and moving all of the furniture in his classroom an inch to the left. It had thrown him off just enough that he had tripped on his rug during a lecture and faceplanted. All of your students were talking about it two periods later when they arrived in your class and you were all smiles for the rest of the day.

So far, there has not been any lasting damage, and all of your coworkers find it more amusing than annoying which is a good thing because neither of you wanted to get the administration involved.

You were not amused by the board graffiti you had found when you came in your class this morning, and while you were re-drawing the problems he had ruined you were thinking of how you could get back to him later that day.

Your plans for revenge had to be put on the back burner as students started filing into your classroom. Half of them looked so tired that you genuinely thought they might fall asleep at their desks and the others looked entirely too frazzled for 7:30 in the morning.

It wasn’t until after you had had your lunch break that an idea had come to you about a way to get back at Loki. You grabbed the pile of graded quizzes from your desk, ones that you were able to grade in red pen thank you very much, and started making your way upstairs to where Mr. Laufeyson’s class was located.

You knew that he was teaching his British Literature elective right now, as it was fifth period. You also knew that most of the kids in that class were also in your Calculus class at the end of the day.

You didn’t wait for very long before pulling open the door to his classroom and waltzing right in with a smirk across your face.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Laufeysoon, pardon the interruption but I have some quizzes I need to give back to some students ASAP.” Without waiting for a response you began walking up and down the rows of desks in his class passing out the graded quizzes to your very amused students. You noticed that he had stopped talking when you had walked into the room and hadn’t started up again. “Go ahead,” you had told him, “don’t want to waste valuable teaching time.” You continued to pass out the papers, all while trying to not burst out laughing at the look on his face.

“Um, yes right. Well as I was saying. Shakespeare was a minor god of his time. His ability to-”

“Hey Derek, I wanted to talk to you about this question that you got wrong, would you be able to stay a little bit after our class to talk about it.” You sent a small wink to Derek and put a finger to your mouth to indicate that he shouldn’t say anything. “I just don’t want to waste any class time going over it today, we have a lot to cover.” Derek just nodded and you could see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

“Are you done?” Loki asked, slanting his hips to one side and placing the hand not holding his open book on them. “Because I have a class to be teaching right now.” He lifted his eyebrows and you acquiesced. You wanted to mess with him, not ruin his whole class plan for that day.

“Yes, I’m done. Thank you for letting me hand those out.” You smiled sweetly at him and began walking back out of his room. Just barely hearing his mutter of “I didn’t let you do anything.” As you passed by him.

Mission accomplished you headed back down to your classroom and started gathering up the things you would need to teach the next period. You didn’t expect that he would have the time to be able to get you back today. But you were for sure expecting some kind of retaliation the next day.

It wasn’t until your last period that you were proven wrong. Everything seemed normal, your students filled in slightly ansty as it was the last period and everyone was ready to go home. They all pulled out their work and started on the problems you had written on the board.

It wasn’t until you started calling on them that you realized what you had opened yourself up to.

You called on Derek first, he was one of the more academically inclined students you had but he was shy about answering in front of the class. You knew he had gotten the answer right, you had looked at his work before you called them all back to focus. But what you weren't expecting was for him to give you his answer in eh most god-awful British accent you had ever heard.

“I doth believeth that the answer to this problemeth is 42.3”. You were baffled. You had no idea what was going on and the fact that Derek had said all this with such a straight face made you think you were having some kind of hallucination episode in the middle of class. But instead of mentioning it you just decided to move on.

“Oh-kay. Um… Samantha what did you get for number 2.”

Again you were met with an awful accent and weird olde- english phrasing.

“Yes, Madame, the answereth I haveth arrived at was X equaleth 110”.

Now that you knew you weren’t just having a breakdown and something was actually happening you didn’t hold yourself back.

“What is happening right now? I don’t- why are you guys being so weird.”

You were met with utter silence, which was rare in your classroom of 23 teenagers. But you didn’t move on. You stared each of them down, focusing a little harder on trying to get the weak ones to crack. Finally, it was Abigail who let the cat out of the bag. She was sweet, but notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

“Mr. Laufeyson said he would give five bonus points to anyone who used a bad accent in your class today.” She let out in all one breath, “More points if you spoke like someone out of Shakespeare.”

You ran your tongue across the front of your teeth. “Did he?” You let out a sort of incredulous laugh and shook your head a little. “Well then, bonus points on the next quiz to whoever can steal the marble apple off his desk and bring it to me tomorrow.” Your students all began to laugh a little bit and some had a look of extreme determination across their faces at your words.

Your class continued sans silly accents and you sent your students home for the day without any homework. As you started cleaning up your desk, putting your laptop in your bag, and grabbing your sweater off the back of your chair you were interrupted by the voice of your arch-nemesis.

“You are positively wicked.” Loki was leaning up against the frame of the door to your classroom, his jacket also on his arm and his messenger bag slung across his shoulders.

“You started it with the Russell quote on my board. You knew how much time I put into drawing those problems.”

“Admit it, it made you smile when you saw it.” He began to cross across the room towards your desk,

“Maybe, but what really almost made me lose it laughing was Samantha’s horrible British accent.” You looked up at him and let out a small laugh at the memory. “So maybe, Mr. Laufeyson, you are the wicked one.”

“I might be, Mrs. Laufeyson but you were the one who married me.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You chuckled once again and leaned up to place a kiss upon your husband’s lips.

“May I ask what plans you have concocted to get back at me tomorrow Darling?” He asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself tomorrow, Love.”

304 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 7 months

Text

the sound of the applause

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: pain pre cursor.

an: songs mentioned - london boy by taylor swift, golden hour by jvke, girlfriend by avril lavigne. anyways. this chapter tame af. we are starting our demonic era. and no, you are not getting an eren pov until I say so. and I have covid so I am feeling extra evil and already writing the next one.

previous part linked here

You’re twelve years old the first time that you feel it.

You have hippies to thank for the entire ordeal. In your small, small town in Canada, there’s very little tension or importance on the arts. Singing, dancing, acting - like many places around the world - fall short to the highs and lows that come with sports.

Your middle school is no exception. A school that can barely spare money to fund a dying arts department, that begrudgingly offers one generalized art class that covers the basics of painting. Except when the hippy dippy parents in town petition, file a complaint with the mayor, they’re sequestered to include arts in all sectors that sports are included in.

A law that opens doors insanely. And creates the opportunity that exposes you to it. The singer showcase at the football pep rally.

And if you have to, you guess you have to thank food poisoning as well. Because Paulina, the original girl who was supposed to sing, was missing from first period that morning and you were all too quick to offer to take her spot.

They give you that pitchy, old black microphone and let you sing your heart out to one of your favorite old songs, At Last by Etta James. And when you open your eyes, the recollection of the performance is wiped from your mind seconds after you finish, and there’s only one thing you remember. It rings so hard, the sound so loud in your eardrums that it’s all you feel. The rush of the blood, the eyes staring back at you, and your cheeks burning.

When you think back, long and hard, that’s the first time it happens. The first time you feel it. It sits with you, that resounding pressure, that digs on you to give in. The need, the want, the infatuation with the rush you’re feeling.

And the obsession with the sound of the applause.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

You aggressively push your forehead into the plush of your pillow, creating a nice symphony of groaning songs in response to Danny, who is interrupting your beauty sleep.

“How long has it been?” you murmur into the pillow, the stinging in your head and the fatigue sitting in your body telling you it couldn’t have even been an hour.

“An hour. But I just realized, the bridge didn’t come out right when I was mixing so you have to record it again.”

“Can you come back in like three years? When I have the energy?” you groan.

“Y/N. I’ll see you in five down there.” he definitively states, shuffling out of your room.

Against every fiber of your being, you pull yourself out of the bed and drag yourself down to the studio, making it a point to glare at him as you re-record the bridge of the song you wrote yesterday. You give it a few tries, messing with the octaves and inflections, until you get a shining thumbs up, and wrap yourself into the blanket left on the couch.

“You write anything new?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You hold out your green book to Danny, opening it to the page marked, at which your producer is already wrinkling his nose. He hasn’t even read the lyrics yet, but you’re sure the title - Cry - is already setting him off.

“You didn’t even read it yet.” you respond, frowning.

“I don’t have to read it to know it’s brilliant. But you were there in that meeting last week and you know this isn’t what we can push out.” he responds, turning back to his soundboard, half-pulling his headphones back onto his ear.

“Danny. I-I just haven’t been able to write songs like that lately. This is what’s coming out.”

After nearly a year of writing music and touring, Danny and Sareen have leaned heavily into your Lover Girl branding. An affectionate term used by your fans, but now the entirety of the breadth that you work with. You’re widely known for the lovey dovey, sweet songs you write so when anything that falls outside of that mold, it isn’t stuff Danny and Sareen appreciate.

But you haven’t been able to write any of that lately. Which only makes that resoundling, crackling, heavy pressure in your head worse. Like you’re defective.

He turns around in his swivel chair, taking the little bound book you’re holding out for him, as he starts flipping through the pages. The worn down book you were gifted on your birthday years ago is filled with every mess of lyrics you’ve written, though none of them are meeting the game plan that was set weeks ago.

That announcement sent everyone on your team into a frenzy, which was so far from your initial reaction.

First of all, it was a rumor. That you were one leg away from being a triple threat. Second, if it’s true, you’re ecstatic. Enthralled and honored and every feeling in between. That you were even in the consideration for being a triple threat, let alone a few feet away from it.

No one else on your team saw it that way. Your producer, Danny, saw this as a sign that you need to be making more music and faster. The songs you make take you weeks to write at this point, no thanks to the perfectionism that comes with writing the lyrics and working out the sound. He’s set a goal for you - to write one song everyday. It makes it - that impending doom in your head - ten pounds heavier.

Your manager, Sareen, is no better. She only took this as a sign that you need to start being more vigilant. A hard-assed woman in her forties, Sareen is all about work ethic. That staying determined is the only way that you will get through this. And she’s extremely blunt when she tells you so.

Stars don’t take breaks. If you want it that badly, you have to work harder. There’s six thousand things working against you, take it as a note that you need to be running faster. That you aren’t trying hard enough. Those are equivalent to dumbbells for that rock on your head, that you’re sure is responsible for pinching all your nerves.

And it’s a matter of proving yourself. To Sareen, Danny, Eren, and everyone who watches you.

You appreciate the push. It’s extremely draining, but worth it when your song releases are so anticipated that you’re selling millions of copies before the song comes out. Have sold out stadium tours, and are shortlisted for awards nearly every time you do something.

You wake up. Get ready for the show. Memorize lines in between shows, film when you don’t have shows. Write songs on flights, produce through voice memos since you’re hardly in one place at a time.

And when you think about it all, finally being a triple threat, finally getting to hear Eren say that he told you so like you said that first night on set together, it’ll all be worth it. It’ll be over.

You can stop running. You can stroll, swim, make the music you like. So you oblige. This is part of the process, you just have to push through. There’s an end goal in sight. And being near Eren is a part of it.

“Have you ever thought about writing a song about…Ricky James?” Danny asks, swinging around in his chair as he smiles at you.

You wrinkle your nose as you throw the closest thing, an empty CD case, at Danny as he laughs back.

“Ew, Danny. That’s so not a thing.”

Ricky James, an infinite, insurmountable amount of talent, was your co-star on your last movie, Little Women. A British singer-songwriter, who virtually blew up over night.

He was nice - definitely the charismatic, flirty type of co-star. You’re positive half of it is the accent. After the two of you started doing press for Little Women, everyone was swooning over the two of you together. At how you guys had a handshake, did your famous kiss scene in one take, and how in almost every interview, he made it a point to joke that he was in love with you.

You get it. It works well for the press, gets people talking about the movie. But you could never like a guy like Ricky James. Or anyone who wasn’t Eren, for that matter.

“I know it’s not a thing. You’re all goo goo ga ga over loverboy. But it’s the same thing that we did for Little Women. He used the fact that people like to speculate to his advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to do the same.” Danny responds, shrugging.

“I already do use that to my advantage. It’s no secret that I earned my whole Lover Girl branding from writing love songs about Eren.”

“Yeah, but you know how it’s been for Eren lately. Maybe it’s not the best thing that your name is attached to him anymore? For both of you?” Danny states.

Eren’s had a rough go of it lately. After Satellite Port failed and the joke they made at the awards show last year, he’s all but resigned into what you call hiding. He said that he’s just busy, focusing on landing new roles and getting more credits under his belt. You know that he recently signed a deal with Scott Clarkson to film five movies with his studio, which is promising.

But you know Eren too well. He’s retreating, hiding in all senses of the word. From you too. The texts he used to send you - good luck before every show, a good morning even though you were on different sides of the world - have ceased all together. And the few seconds you do catch him, he seems worlds away.

And it’s not just you who has caught onto it. The last time you saw Historia, when she came to watch your show, she mentioned that she was concerned about him, that she thinks he’s being a little bit self destructive by working with Stone Studios. That Scott Clarkson is not a good idea.

Granted, Scott Clarkson is buddy buddy with John. You know that’s a touchy subject for her and made it a point to bring it up to Eren. To see if he was okay. But you were flying out for a tour and forgot to. And then he started showing up in the press again, hanging out with the cast he’s been working with, so you figured it was fine. That he’s going out again, smiling in photos.

“That-that’s not true. He’s on the come up - he’s going to be the lead in the Gatsby remake that Stone Studios is doing. I’m sure he’ll get an award for it.”

“There’s no need to get defensive. I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt to expand your horizons. Triple threats are awarded for being versatile, not sticking with what’s easy. Maybe you just need to push the boundary of what you think you can do.” he says, giving your forehead a tap.

“It kind of feels like cheating to write a song about someone that’s not him.” you murmur, looking down at the pages in your hand. Eren’s handwriting is scribbled onto the invisible string page. Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.

“You know, Sareen’s not too keen about this relationship. And I know that Eren’s team isn’t either.” Danny states.

“Who are they to tell us who we can date?”

“It’s not about who you can date. It-it’s about the image. Tying your name to his doesn’t exactly always work in your favor, Y/N. There’s no loyalty in an industry like this. And for Eren’s case, you’ve never really helped him in that sense. When you stand together, with the success you’ve had, all they see is a failure in Eren, when he’s really not even that bad.”

“People’s comparisons aren’t my fault. And Eren’s doing fine, he-he’s okay.”

“Now, he is. But a few months ago, it was your name next to his that was dragging him down. If it comes down to triple threats and it’s between you and him, are you telling me that you would really pick him over you?”

Yes. One thousand times, yes. Though you know that’s not the answer Danny wants.

“You have to be more selfish, Y/N. And maybe that’s selfless for Eren's sake too. There isn’t room for the both of you, right now. I know you love him, but Sareen has a point. Is working this hard worth it if you don’t get what you want out of it? You and Eren have all the time in the world to be together, just focus on your career before him.”

You frown, staring at the wrinkles pressed up against his forehead.

“You can have what you want - have your cake and eat it too, write all these corny love songs about him after you make it. Stop running when you’re actually there, kid.”

You look down at the pages, the thoughts floating through your mind, as the lyrics start spilling out. For your first song that’s not about Eren.

London Boy.

You try to make a point to call Eren before releases. Key word, try.

But it doesn’t happen that way. Because Eren’s in Los Angeles and you’re in Tokyo and the time difference messes the two of you up so bad that when they surprise drop London Boy, you don’t get to warn Eren beforehand.

And when he texts you about it, you can feel the guilt creeping into your chest. Because you know he’s too nice to say what he actually thinks about it. If it were you, you’d wring Eren’s neck out for writing a song like this about his co-star he’s rumored to be dating. But Eren is Eren and he would never.

eren: “he likes my american smile?” babe, you’re canadian.

eren: i like the song. really.

you: i have dual citizenship.

you: eren. i’m so so sorry. i meant to tell you before but the time differences, we just kept missing each other. you know i don’t mean any of it, right?

you: it’s just a marketing thing danny and sareen planned. the song will be a hit if people are speculating who it’s about and stuff.

eren: i figured. you don’t have to explain yourself to me!!!!

eren: you’re a pop princess <3

eren: and currently number one on the billboard hot 100 for the fourth time in a row!!!

You nearly throw your phone across the room at the notifications, the frustration building so hard that it’s all pouring out of your head. You can see the stack of gifts at the front of the room - candies from Falco and Colt, as well as Marco, Historia, and Reiner - for the release.

And it’s moments like this, when you’ve been running so fast and pushing so hard, that you resort to one of your worst tendencies. Because the only thing that helps you when you feel like this is being a masochist. Feeling bad only makes you want to feel worse. Like you deserve it.

So you inflict it on yourself. By reading what people say about you online.

You reach back for your phone - ignoring the messages from Armin, Bertholdt, and Levi - as you scroll to Twitter, hiding the light of the phone under your sheets as you look through the app.

You look at the trending tab. Y/N L/N, London Boy, Ricky James, Eren Jaeger, and love is dead are trending.

You press your bolded name and swipe to the recents tab, scrolling through every tweet, each one categorizing, sticking in your mind as you scroll. A mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

That you’re pretty. That you’re ugly. That you have no personality, that you write mediocre songs, that you’re the best actress from Attack on Titan. That you’re lucky for bagging Ricky James and Eren, that you’re too good for Eren, that you’re horrible for writing the song.

You place the phone flat on the sheets, the absence of light making your eyes sting, as the tears string out of your eyes.

You want to make your cake and eat it too.

But is it even worth it if this is how you have to get there?

You stick your hand out, swinging it in the air with Ricky as you do your handshake, and plop onto the couch. Danny and Sareen called a meeting with Ricky’s team before you guys went to the wrap party for The Proposal, which is the only thing on your calendar that you were actually looking forward to this month.

Because Annie and Armin are the leads and because you know Levi and Hange are going to be there.

“This is Michael and Nancy. They’re my talent managers.” Ricky states, pointing out the two people across from you.

“Sareen and Danny. Sareen’s my manager and Danny’s my producer.”

“Is he behind the genius of London Boy?” Ricky asks, smirking at you.

“Shut up. London Boy isn’t about you, Ricky.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I’m your muse.”

The line sits in your stomach wrong, because all you can think about is Eren. Seventeen year old Eren, shimmering green eyes on that empty set when you wrote New Year’s Day. You shake your head as Danny turns to the two of you, a smile on his face.

“We have an idea.” Danny states, a smile on his face.

You and Ricky nod as Nancy and Sareen start laying out the plan, each consecutive word twisting horribly in your stomach.

Surely they can’t be serious.

“We think that the two of you should date, as a PR move.” Sareen states, handing over a folder to you.

There’s dates listed out, public places where they want you and Ricky to meet at, and songs they want you to release about each other. All down to the slated releases, ideas for album covers, and interviews they want you to do.

“This is part of Y/N’s triple threat campaign. I think putting in this whole ruse of a relationship and writing songs about it, especially if there’s some part of it that will be drama because of Eren and Lana, it’s even better.”

“Lana?” you ask.

“She’s Ricky’s old girlfriend. They aren’t dating anymore, which is something that we should capitalize on. For the both of you. This should get Ricky into the leagues for the Album of the Year award when he releases next year.” Nancy states, flipping through the pages.

You look over at Ricky, ready to fully shut down the idea. But when you turn your head to him, he’s flipping through the pages, writing down his own ideas in the folder.

“Ricky. You’re not actually considering this, are you?” you whisper.

“You aren’t?”

“I’m dating Eren. No, I’m not considering fake dating you for the press.”

“Eren, who was seen on a date with Myka yesterday? Right.” he states bluntly, flipping through the pages.

“That’s just tabloids, Ricky. Be serious.”

“And so is this. Myka and Eren are in a movie together. You and I are musicians. You can do the same thing as him and I bet you he wouldn’t even care. And he shouldn’t, because your career comes first.” Ricky states, leaning forward on his knees to discuss more with Danny and Sareen.

You flip through the folder again, each consecutive page filled with more and more details of how they want you and Ricky to pretend. And the last page has the words bolded, little stars around them.

Y/N gets triple threat status! Ricky gets Album of the Year!

“Y/N. Have your cake and eat it too.” Danny warns, a reminder of what you’re supposed to be prioritizing.

“This is the time to run, Y/N. You’re almost there.” Sareen affirms, the two of them nodding as they look at you.

And by the way five of them are staring at you, big eyes filled with anticipation as they wait for your response, you know you can’t say no. That insurmountable pressure - to please, to be successful, to be the best - wins out, every time.

Danny’s produced for three different hit pop stars. Sareen’s managed some of the biggest names in the industry. And you have no idea who Nancy and Michael even are, but if they’re working with Ricky, they’ve got to be in the big leagues.

You put the folder down, giving all of them a nod, as they all erupt into cheers. Ricky leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek, which you tell him to save for the cameras, as you take the folder and walk out.

And figure out how you’re going to tell Eren.

You head to the wrap party three hours later and any excitement you had about the event is immediately drained when you know that Eren’s going to be there and you have to talk to him about it. Break up with him.

“Y/N!”

You turn around to find Armin and Annie, the two of them wrapping their arms around you as they press kisses to your cheeks. You try to stifle the literal tears that are making their way to your eyes at the sight of them, their blue eyes the same soft ones you’ve always known.

“Annie. Armin. I’m so excited for the movie, I’m sure it’s going to be great.” you say, squeezing both of their hands.

Two of your shyest friends still, they’re both blushing at the praise as Connie and Sasha walk up. You’re wrapping your arms around all of them, as everyone else - Reiner, Mikasa, and Jean - join you.

“So Y/N. London Boy, huh?” Connie asks, smirking.

“Did you guys know that Eren is from London?” Sasha says, sarcastically.

“Oh, quit it. It’s just one of those PR things. The triple threat thing made them all go crazy.” you respond.

“We respect the hustle, Y/N.” Connie states, mock saluting you with Jean.

“There is no press better than you and Eren releasing Medicine and Dress on the same day.” Mikasa states, earning a bunch of laughter from the group.

“Oh god. Don’t remind me. Whore move, from the both of you.” Reiner says, pinching your cheek. Connie mocks the ah ah ah, from Dress, which has you all laughing.

You smack his hand off as Marco slings his hand around your shoulders, squeezing hard and smiling at you so big, in earnest, that it makes your chest hurt.

“Can you believe it? You’re so close to it, Y/N - I can feel it.” Marco says, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your cheek.

You reach up to squish the plush of his cheek as Marco mimics your movements, the two of you smiling at each other. And then you feel two warm hands on your shoulder and turn around to see Eren, soft green eyes looking into yours.

And it makes you burst into tears. Soft green eyes, albeit a little tired looking, and Eren’s hair all grown out. When did Eren grow his hair out to his Season Three length? The last time you saw him, it was so short. He looks the same. He feels far away. And that pressure in your head is resounding.

“Yeesh.” Connie says at the sight of your spilling tears, earning quiet laughs from everyone.

Eren brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping the wetness away, as he glares at Connie.

“Connie.” Eren warns, the tone in his voice threatening.

“Sorry. Just missed him, that’s all.” you respond, wiping the last of the wetness off your face as they all smile at you.

“Man, every time I see one of you, you’re crying.” Hange says from behind you, the group of you turning your heads and immediately tackling them and Levi into hugs. Eren reaches for Hange first and you go for Levi, his stupid minty smell making your tears return.

You look up at Levi, who's glaring at you, and can’t help but smile.

“Levi. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me.”

“I am happy to see you. But not when you’re crying in public. You two are going to give me an ulcer.” he states, frowning as he glares at Eren at your side.

You look over at Eren, the end of what Hange said catching up with you.

“You cried in front of them? About what, Eren?” you ask, voice soft.

“Ah. Nothing.” Eren responds, cheeks lightly pink as he runs his hand through his hair.

You both let go of Hange and Levi as Armin and Annie take to the makeshift stage, giving a little speech about their time on the film and how grateful they are for everyone in the room for supporting them. And as they do, Eren jabs his elbow into your side.

“Ow. What gives?” you whisper.

Eren places hand on his chest, feigning shock.

“Don’t tell me you forgot our secret hand signals already?” he whispers.

Jab in the side. Meaning, you need a second to talk, away from everyone.

“As if.” you respond, giving a nod to his sign.

He gives you a smile as you both turn your heads back to Annie and Armin, who are playing the trailer on the screen now. And when they finish, the resounding noise of the claps are the last thing you and Eren hear when you go out to the balcony, the cold air surrounding you both.

You wrap your hands around your arms, which Eren picks up on too fast and suddenly he’s taking his coat off and wrapping it around you. Making a point to pull your hair out of the collar, hands focused on fixing your hair around your face.

“Eren.”

“Yes?”

“I-”

The words die on your tongue. Because here he is, the perfect green eyes you fell in love with staring at you in the lamplight of the dark, and you can’t say it. You can’t shatter his heart into pieces or be the one to let him go.

When he’s one of the only things you’ve wanted.

“I know how you feel, Y/N. You don’t have to say it.” he whispers, hands tucking your hair behind your ears before letting go.

You can feel the tears spilling out of your eyes as you frown at him, the look on his face so pained that it hurts.

“I’m guessing they don’t want you to see me, at least not for right now?” Eren asks.

You nod, aggressively wiping away the wetness on your cheeks as you reach for his hands, squeezing three times. You hate that he knows. That Danny and Sareen think he isn’t good enough for you. When you’ve always been the one who was never in the same league as him.

That Eren was the one who defended you when you were there, but no one’s letting you do it for him.

“I still love you, Eren. You-you know that?”

“I know that.” he whispers, nodding. His eyes are focused on your hands, interlocked with his. He reaches in for your bicep, fingers tracing over the fish tattoo right above your elbow.

“Fishbowl, Y/N. We’ll come back to each other when it’s time. Just don’t be a stranger.” he says.

You nod, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around him as you nearly sob into his chest, his voice soothing your hiccuping, even though you’re the one who just smashed him into pieces. And when Eren wraps his hands around your cheeks, giving you one last lingering kiss, before walking away, you can’t help but sit there in the cold, his jacket wrapped around you and letting the tears bite on your skin.

You close your phone, giving Ricky a glowing smile, as you both settle into your seats at the Institute Music Awards. The two of you officially went public earlier today, though you’re both still denying any rumors that you’re dating.

“How does Ricky compare to Eren?”

You try to hide your scoff as you answer, trying your best to stay neutral in your response to avoid becoming a headline the next day.

“I’ll always have so much love for Eren. We grew up together and really came into this hand in hand and no one could ever really take that away. And there’s no bad blood between us, we’ll always be best friends.” you respond, giving them a polite smile as you walk away and swallow hard.

You can see Eren twenty feet down, in a specially designed suit that he looks wonderful in, smiling for the cameras. He’s standing in between Hyla and Myka, since their film is premiering in a few days.

“You look green, doll.”

You turn around to find Sukuna, who you fake punch in the shoulder and glare at, before pulling him in for a hug.

“You sure you’re not talking about yourself? That’s your girl down there.”

“Jesus, Y/N. Don’t ever associate me with her again.” Sukuna mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Oh? Was it not you saying she wasn’t that bad when we were kids?” you tease, poking into the soft of his cheek.

“Well, that was before I found everything out. I’d say a prayer for your boy over there, he’s about to get himself into a gnarly mess he won’t be able to get out of.” Sukuna responds, eyes focused on Eren and Hyla posing together a few feet down.

“What do you mean?” you ask, linking your arm with his as the two of you walk down, past him. You make it a point to attempt to make eye contact with Eren, but he’s too focused on Hyla that he misses you all together.

“I just mean…he’s about to get himself involved in things he shouldn’t. And you should stay far away.” Sukuna states, giving Ricky a polite smile as he joins you at your side. Sukuna gives you one last kiss on the cheek before Ricky links his arm with yours, dragging you to your seats.

You both settle into the seats, giving Marco a big smile as he sits next to you.

“Hey. Where’s Hisu? I saw her name card here earlier but it’s not here anymore.” you whisper, as the lights start dimming ahead.

Marco winces, giving you an awkward smile as he puts his hand over yours and squeezes.

“She doesn’t want to sit with Ricky. Or you.”

“Oh.”

“Just for today, Y/N. Because of the history and all that, you-you know that.”

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging, as you give Marco a half-hearted smile, nodding.

“No yeah. I get it. I’ll talk to her soon.”

“Okay.” Marco responds, giving you a smile.

You make it a point to do your best throughout the awards show, fake whispering in Ricky’s ears every time the camera is on you two, holding hands and comparing hand sizes, letting him tuck your hair behind your ear once and a while.

And it’s all going great and peachy, until Hyla gets called on stage to perform. You crane your neck back to find Sukuna, giving him a warning glance as he rolls his eyes, making the motion that he’s choking himself.

One of the most insane things about Hyla and Sukuna’s beef? The fact that they perform and write songs about each other, that are so insanely written, that they trend for weeks.

You’re sure Hyla and Sukuna are what Danny and Sareen dream about in their free time.

Hyla gets on stage, giving everyone a soft smile as a few of the girls join her on stage, adjusting their microphones. You can feel Ricky squeezing your hand hard, his jaw clenched.

“You good?”

“The lineup. Hyla, Myka, and Lana.” he responds, glaring at the three of them.

You focus your eyes on the third girl, Lana, who is Ricky’s ex-girlfriend. The only reason he wants to fake date you. Apparently, the two of them broke up after you and Ricky started trending, her insecurities about the people’s words overruling any reassurance that Ricky could give her.

“This is my new song, it’s called Girlfriend. I hope you all like it.” Hyla says, giving a smile as the upbeat music starts.

Hey, hey, you, you I don’t like your girlfriend No way, no way I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend

You lean back as you observe the visuals and the line of backup dancers supporting the three of them singing, their performance extremely upbeat and punk pop star that you can’t help but tap your feet to the beat of the song.

That’s until they reach the bridge. When Hyla pulls one of the back-up dancers from the background to the front and Lana pulls Eren on stage, the two of them are seated on the makeshift chairs on the stage. Hyla’s singing around Eren, rolling her eyes at the back-up dancer.

Who's wearing the exact outfit that you wear on your tour, a sparkly, billowing pink dress. And when you take her in properly, you realize that she’s supposed to be you. The same hairstyle, eye color, skin tone. You can feel your throat dry as you watch Eren’s cheeks tinted pink on stage as Hyla sings around him, the entire audience erupting into cheers.

(Oh) In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinkin'?

You feel Marco’s hand on yours, squeezing hard, as you focus in on the performance, trying to ignore the fact that the big, black camera is shining on your face and that everyone in the room is looking at you. And that millions of people must be talking about it at home. You turn back to give Levi a look and he shakes his head, mouthing don’t cry which you halfheartedly nod in response too.

Jean and Armin have switched seats with the two girls behind you, their hands on your shoulders, squeezing, as Eren and Hyla walk off stage, hand in hand past the back up dancer who’s supposed to be you - who's crying fake buckets of tears now.

And when it’s all done and over, you skip the afterparties and let Mikasa drive you home. She tucks you into your sheets, making it a point to help you wipe all your makeup off and leave a bottle of water by your bed, you sink into your sheets and do it again. Let that overwhelming, embarrassing, deep rooted hatred sink in.

And pull up Twitter. Read about how everyone hates you. Relive the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you yet. Stare at pictures of Eren and Hyla and ignore the resounding sound of the applause the two of them received.

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasberr @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

293 notes · View notes

pensat-i-fet · 6 months

Text

Young love never lasts (Pedri x Reader)

**You know, sometimes I get requests and they sort of write themselves. This is one of those. Written in like two sittings and very cute, I think. A little childhood friends to lovers I was requested yesterday. Enjoy ❤️**

Word count: 4066

Masterlist

Wattpad

If there was something you were sure of, it was that you would never have a boyfriend. Or so you thought when you were 8.

Parents, grandparents, friends, …all obsessed over their theories of which kids could get married in the future because they looked so cute together. For you, there was only one option. And it was Pedri. You never liked playing with the boys because they were so mean to you, but Pedri wasn’t. At first, he didn’t want the other kids to see you together because they mocked him but over time, he stopped caring. He liked you, so they could think whatever they wanted about your friendship.

So everyone talked about what great friends you were and how adorable you looked together.

“Look at them holding hands”, giggled your mum one day. “Maybe they’re playing boyfriend and girlfriend”.

You weren’t. You were just walking over a pretty uneven area and held hands so you wouldn’t fall. But from that moment on, you never held Pedri’s hand again whenever someone was around.

Time made things easier. In high school, many of the mean kids were gone and no one cared about you two being friends. But your girlfriends teased you.

“Come on, he’s cute. You have to like him. You’re together all the time”.

“I don’t”, you would always say.

And you meant it. He was your friend. Your best friend. But that was it. Not that you liked any other boys but…you definitely didn’t like him.

For Pedri, it was a whole different story. He had always liked you as a friend and nothing else. But then puberty hit and he started to see you in a different light. His brother told him it was probably just the hormones. He would be attracted to every girl. But he wasn’t. He liked a few girls just because they were pretty but it was different when it came to you. He truly liked you. But he never told you about it for fear of scaring you.

He feared losing you if he told you about his feelings. But despite not telling you, he lost you anyway.

“Hey”, you greeted him one morning when you saw him outside of class.

“Hi. Where were you this morning? I was waiting for you and…”.

“I don’t think we should walk to school together anymore, Pedri”.

“Why?”

“I’ve kept a secret from you. I have a boyfriend. And I just don’t think I should spend as much time with you. Like, you’re just my friend but you’re a boy. What if that makes him uncomfortable?”

Pedri didn’t know what hurt more. It should be that you had a boyfriend. That you had finally shown interest in a boy and it wasn’t him. But that wasn’t the most painful part. It was that you wanted to stop hanging out with him. How could he cope with losing you completely?

It turned out he couldn’t. Everyone could see how sad he was, including you. The difference was that everyone else knew he was sad because you were dating someone who wasn’t Pedri. You just thought he missed you as a friend.

“Why are you so sad, darling?”, asked him his mum when she couldn’t wait any longer. She tried to give him space and allow him to talk to her when he felt ready but he wasn’t going to. And she couldn’t stand seeing her little boy looking so sad.

“Has your heart ever been broken?”

“Yes. When I was around your age. Why do you ask that?”

“Because I think mine is broken too”, he admitted, embarrassed.

“I heard about the boyfriend news…I’m so sorry, honey. But you’ll get over it. That’s teenage love. It feels like nothing you’ll ever feel will be able to match this intensity, but then you realise it was just an overreaction”.

“I don’t think it is…”.

No mother wants to see her children cry, so when Pedri’s tears started to fall, she hugged him tightly. “You say that now because it’s too raw. You’re feeling too much. But you’ll be fine soon. I promise. And I’m here to look after you, ok?”

“Ok”, he nodded. But he didn’t believe what his mum was saying.

Because it wasn’t true. The pain never truly left but it became easier to deal with it. And easier to hide it. Pedri kept waiting for the moment when you came back to him. Even if you still were dating that asshole, who was actually very nice and seemed to be making you very happy. But to Pedri, he was always going to be an asshole.

Still, he waited for you to try and be his friend again. But you never did. Not even when he got his big move to Barcelona. It seemed like the whole island was there to celebrate but you weren’t. You were away on a trip with your boyfriend and couldn’t say goodbye to your old friend before he left to try and make his dream come true.

“Who are you looking for?”, asked him his dad when he saw him looking around all the guests that had gathered there for his farewell party.

“No one. I was just trying to memorize how everything and everyone looks before leaving”.

“Well, you’ll be back. No need to be so dramatic”, laughed his dad before leaving Pedri there alone.

But he felt like being dramatic because you weren’t there. And he was afraid he was never going to see you again.

The years passed and so many of the things you thought you’d never do changed. Never having a boyfriend? Right. You definitely changed your opinion about that. After dating the same guy during your high school years, you broke up because uni life showed you maybe you weren’t as perfect for each other as you once thought. And after that, you dated a couple of guys casually. But always felt like that wasn’t you. You wanted what you had during high school. A serious committed relationship. But needed to find the right person for it.

You also said you would never cut your hair short after your mum forced you to do it every summer until you were 11 and refused to get a super short haircut every year. And you were never going to live in mainland Spain. You were an island girl, what were you supposed to do there?

Yet there you were, 20 years old and getting a gorgeous bob haircut, that everyone told you was incredibly flattering on you, right before moving to Barcelona. We all say a lot of things when we are kids and then do otherwise. It wasn’t just you.

"You've got to be kidding me".

Maybe you had a point about not living in mainland Spain. Ever since you landed in Barcelona, it had been disaster after disaster.

One of the wheels of your suitcase broke, so moving it around proved to be a bit tricky. And a lot painful. Your arm was going to be so sore the next day. Finding a taxi wasn't easy either because the drivers were on strike, so only a few of the ones parked at the airport were working.

And when you finally made it to the hotel you had to stay in until you found an apartment, you saw that it had been closed because some pipes broke and the rooms were inhabitable.

"What am I supposed to do?"

You sat down on a bench near the hotel and tried to think of what your next step should be. There was the company you were going to work for. They could maybe help you. They knew Barcelona better than you.

But first, you needed to find another taxi. A man told you where to go and on your way there, another suitcase wheel broke.

"Have I been cursed?"

Fernando, Pedri's brother, was walking near you and he turned to look at you when he heard the familiar accent from Canarias.

"Need any help?", he asked you and when you looked up, your eyes widened. "Hello?"

"Fernando?"

"How do you know my name…right, are you my brother's fan?"

"I wouldn't say I'm a fan", you chuckled. "You don't remember me?"

He stared at you for a couple of seconds. You looked familiar. Very familiar.

"Imagine me being this height", you said, pointing out how short you were when you were 12. "With longer hair and your brother by my side".

"No way…what are you doing here?"

"Living a nightmare, apparently", you sighed and Fer asked you to elaborate.

It felt good to just rant and have someone to talk to after such a horrible day.

"I mean, you could come stay with us".

"By us, you mean…".

"Yeah".

"I don't think he'd want me in his house. I hurt him a lot, Fernando. I just left him for a boy when he was my best friend. I noticed the way he glared at me a few times. I'm not welcome there. I'll just find another hotel but I appreciate the offer".

"Nonsense. We're all adults now. And I can't leave you alone in a city you barely know carrying that suitcase that's about to fall apart. Come with us. Pedri…he doesn't hate you. Believe me".

You nodded and followed him. It wasn't as if you had a lot of options. And a part of you couldn't believe you were going to see Pedri again. Moving to Barcelona, you hoped you could go see him at a match, maybe. But talking to him? No. That was not an option…until it was.

"Pepi!", screamed Fer when he opened the door to their house. "You're not going to believe what I found! Well, who I found".

"What are you talking about …".

Pedri stopped walking down the stairs to stare at you. And you stared back. No matter how many times you had seen him in photos and on the TV, nothing prepared you for how much he had changed. He was the same Pedri you knew but he was also not a 14-year-old boy anymore.

"Hi", you said, shily.

"How are you here?"

"How about we offer our guest a drink and we catch up?"

Both you and Pedri nodded and followed his brother to the kitchen, where they made you a cup of warm coffee you very much needed.

"Isn't Nacho here with you?"

That was the question Pedri had wanted to ask since he saw you.

"No, we broke up a while ago".

"Oh. Sorry", he lied.

"It's ok. Young love never lasts".

He tried to laugh when you did but didn't feel like it. Because his love for you was young love too and it very much lasted.

Pedri never forgot about you but what was the point of dwelling on those feelings when the only thing he achieved was hurting himself even more? So he pretended you didn't exist. But then he would think about anything that reminded him of you and the feelings came back immediately.

That was the case then but he believed it was justified since you were sitting in his kitchen, drinking from his favourite mug and talking to him. When was the last time that happened? Too long ago, that was when.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, Barcelona is big so I'll find another hotel and just stay there. I hope I get my money back from the other reservation I had but I'll worry about that tomorrow. I'm too tired".

"Stay here", he said, not allowing himself time to think about the pros or cons.

"You don't have to offer…".

"I know. But I want to. We're childhood friends, right?"

You nodded before looking away. "I'm sorry".

"For what?"

"Leaving you when I got a boyfriend".

Fer noticed what type of conversation was about to happen and so he excused himself and left the kitchen.

"It's ok…".

"No, it isn't. It wasn't. Nacho never asked me to do it, you know? He was never jealous or anything. I think in a way it pissed me off he wasn't? Like, aren't you worried when the whole island is obsessed with saying my best friend and I are secretly in love with each other? I always hated those bullshit rumours".

"Yeah. Same", he said, feeling his heart break again at the confession that you really never saw him as more than a friend.

"It's no excuse but I think that's what made me want to separate myself from you. People trying to push us together. If something had to happen, it should have been natural. Not forced, you know?"

He nodded. That made sense. He actually hated those comments too. They felt too invasive. And he noticed you moving away from him every time someone said something along those lines.

"Well, now I blamed everyone else for my mistakes, I'll say it again. I'm sorry I hurt you".

"Thank you for apologizing. It was actually really hard to go through that. I guess I was just young and overreacting", he tried to joke, remembering his mum's words.

You smiled at him and that was confirmation that his feelings for you were still the same.

"I thought about talking to you again so many times. Nacho even told me to. But I just knew you hated me…".

"I didn't hate you", how could you think that?

"I saw the way you looked at me. There was hatred in your eyes and it hurt because I never thought you capable of such feelings but…I deserved it. It's fine".

"I didn't hate you", he repeated. "I was probably just trying not to look too sad around you and God knows what my face looked like then. Everyone always told me about how sad I looked because you left me and I hated it. I wanted to look tough. I see it worked wonders".

You laughed and also felt relieved. No matter how much you thought you deserved to be hated by Pedri. You didn't want him to hate you.

"Right", he said, clearing his throat and getting up. "Now you know I don't hate you, let me take you to the guest room".

"You sure?"

"You still didn't tell me why you're here so I'll keep you around until we fully catch up at least", he joked.

When you finished your coffee, you followed him to the room.

"This house is bigger than your parents', huh? Well, the one we used to go to. I know they have a bigger one now. It's a bit sad. So many good memories of the old one".

"I know", Pedri was happy to be able to provide his parents with everything they could ask for and then some. But he missed their old house. Partly because of all the memories you two made there.

"But this one is nice too. Different but…I guess you've changed".

"So have you. The hair?"

That made you chuckle. "I wanted a dramatic change and I just did this. I don't know. I didn't think much about it. Hair grows back".

"It looks good on you".

"Thank you. You look great too".

That made Pedri pause. You had never spoken about him in that way. Back when you were still friends, you were still team "boys are disgusting". So he didn't know how to take the compliment.

"Thanks. I…I haven't really done much lately because of the injury. I need to shave and…".

"Don't. I mean, facial hair looks great on you. You should keep it".

He nodded, silently planning on throwing away every shaving product he had in the house.

It was crazy how, even after six years of not speaking to each other, you could go back to feeling so comfortable in each other's presence so quickly.

"I'll find some sheets for the bed. I can help you make it".

"That'd be great".

"So, what kind of job did you get here?", asked Pedri while passing you some of the bed sheets.

"It's a tech company. It's supposed to be one of the best in the country so it's very exciting".

"You work at the best company while I play for the best team".

"Debatable. But we're not going to argue about football now. I'm too tired".

You rolled your shoulders and touched the right one, trying to massage it a bit to get rid of the pain.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. It was just the travelling and then the suitcase", you laughed. "The wheels are supposed to be there to help us carry the weight so when they break…".

"There's a bath in this room. Why don't you take one and then I can find one of the creams I use for muscular pain. They help a lot".

"That sounds amazing. Thank you".

"Actually, go run the bath. I'll finish making the bed".

You both had moved to put the sheet in place and were now standing next to each other. When Pedri moved back to get one of the blankets, you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You don't have to. It doesn't hurt that much".

"It's fine".

He didn't know how to react to you touching him after all these years. And the thing was, you didn't know how to react either. Why did it feel so different than it had back when you were children? Was it because of how much time had passed? It was probably that.

Not wanting to overthink too much after such a weird day, you went to the bathroom to get everything ready for the bath. The warm water soothed your muscles and relaxed you so much, that it was hard to stay awake. But you also didn't want to stay there for too long since you were just a guest. And not even one that had been properly invited.

Searching your suitcase for something comfy to wear, you found a pair of shorts and a matching top and just put it on before going down the stairs.

"Guys? Where are you?"

"Here!", said Pedri, coming out of the living room so you could see him. "Feeling better?"

"So much better", you smiled.

"I have the cream if you want to put some on now".

You joined Pedri in his living room and took the cream from his hand. It said on the box that you had to apply a small amount and massage it into the skin. So you put some product on the tip of your fingers and started to do that but…it was really uncomfortable.

"Dinner will be ready in 10", said Fer. "Do you need help with that?"

"Maybe", you admitted.

"Fer can do it", said Pedri quickly, “he helps me when I can't reach the injured area".

"My hands are dirty from cooking, sorry. You do it".

Pedri shook his head seeing his brother run away back to the kitchen. He could be so obvious sometimes.

"Can you do it, please?"

He nodded and you turned so your back was to him. There was already cream on your shoulder but he took a bit more and started to apply it. "Where does it hurt the most?"

You took his hand and moved it to the area that needed the massage the most. And Pedri kept massaging your skin, even if it was so hard to be this close to you and a simple shoulder massage felt so intimate somehow. But he just thought about how it meant literally nothing to you and it helped. A bit.

However, he was wrong. Because you were once again overthinking why his touch was affecting you so much. The cream was supposed to numb the area to help with the pain. But you also felt your brain was numb because you couldn't process anything that was going on.

"Thank you", you told him, turning your head to see him but he only looked away.

"No problem. Let's go eat. You must be starving".

Fer was also there during dinner, and Pedri used him as a shield almost. For his feelings. And you…you really understood how much you must have hurt him all those years ago. Because seeing him ignore you at times, it was really painful. Not that you could complain but still.

When you woke up the next morning, you found Fer having breakfast alone.

"Is Pedri still sleeping?"

"No, he had to leave early for training".

"Oh, right. Um…I got a message from my hotel. They're moving us to another one while everything is repaired so I'll go there later. I kind of hoped I could say goodbye to Pedri and thank him for letting me stay here".

"Who says you can't? You'll be living in the same city. You know where he lives…there is time to thank him and to talk. To be friends again, maybe?"

That idea had been in your head all night. You barely slept and just kept overthinking.

"I don't think he wants to be my friend".

"No, he always wanted to be more than your friend. Probably still does".

"What?"

You had heard the comments. Of course, you had. But why pay them any attention? You had your boyfriend and were living your life away from Pedri's. Who cared if it was true he had feelings for you?

Now, however, you did care.

"Do you want me to be honest with you?"

You nodded. "Of course".

"If you're just going to play with his feelings and hurt him again, then leave and don't come back. But I noticed the way you looked at him yesterday. And having you back in his life would mean everything to my brother".

"I never liked him like that…".

"But?"

"But maybe I do now?"

Fer smiled, happy to see he had read the situation well. "Then give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I hurt him again?"

"That's a risk we take with all relationships. It shouldn't be the reason why you don't do it".

Pedri had also been overthinking your unexpected return to his life. That's why he left earlier than he should in the morning. He couldn't face you even if that made him a coward. He needed time.

His brother texted him saying you had a hotel to go to and that you'd be gone by lunchtime. And that he'd have dinner ready for when Pedri came back from some photoshoots he had to do for sponsors.

"Fer?", he called when he got back home. But got no answer. "Ok".

Pedri walked to the dining room, seeing that the lights were on. But he didn't find his brother there, he found you.

"I thought you had left".

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No".

You finally smiled. This was so nerve-wracking. "Fer made some dinner for us. So we can talk. Sit down, it'll get cold".

Pedri sat down and put some food on his plate, seeing you do the same. "Talk about what?"

"Us".

Such a small word that was. Us. But what did it mean in this context?

"I already, sort of, tried to explain the lame reasons why I pushed you away once. I don't want that to happen again. But would understand if you wanted me gone".

"I don't", he said quickly. "I didn't back then. And I don't now".

"Good", you smiled at him, making him smile too. "Also, our parents, grandparents, neighbours, etc might have been right"

"In which way?"

"Maybe it was just a matter of time before we realised we liked each other".

Pedri was so shocked by your admission, he knocked the glass with his elbow and spilled all the water on the table and the floor.

"Crap! Sorry!"

You bit your lip so you wouldn't laugh at his clumsiness and got up to help him.

"I got it", he said, putting more paper cloth on top of the water to absorb it and making a mess.

"Do it like this", you told him, putting your hand on his and moving it to clean the table properly. "You always needed me to hold your hand. How did you cope these past years?"

"I didn't".

"Well, that's about to change. If you want it to change".

"I do", he said, sealing the promise with the kiss he had dreamed about for a decade.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri fluff #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #childhood friends to lovers #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x yn #footballer fanfic

206 notes · View notes

jejuboo-s · 8 months

Text

Silent Boarding Gate [STAGE 1: DENIAL]

[PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5]

Pairing: Design Major!F. Reader x Model!W. Junhui

Genre: Fluff, Smut, & Angst (Fluff will be more prominent as the parts progress)

Synopsis: In which you meet Wen Junhui, an exchange student from China, along the way of accomplishing your dreams. He was a great friend, but you got attached to him. Maybe a little too much.

Warning: Slowburn, arguing, explicit language, Jun gets a little hostile in said argument, masturbation, lots and lots and lots of reader second guessing herself D:

Taglist in the comments due to so much love and support :)

(Please let me know through asks or the comments if you’d like to be in the taglist, @s not mentioned are not able to be tagged ^3^)

You and Jun were a notorious duo—well, more like a rumored couple (which would most likely never happen), in many of your classes. You certainly didn’t mind the fake rumors, but he certainly did.

You plopped yourself on your couch next to your best friend, Junhui; and whilst doing so, you managed to spill a bit of the popcorn from the bowl in your grasp into Jun’s lap.

“____—“ He whined, much like a baby. “I told you you should’ve gotten a bigger bowl, or atleast look like you care that you ruined my favorite stay-at-home sweats with some cheap butter!”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes at him playfully, “Shut up you big baby,” Before you could get out the next pair of words, he flicked you square in the forehead. “Hey! Leave me alone Junnie, exams are over—this is my, no, our personal way of bonding.”

“Fine fine, just for the sake of bonding.” He sighed, putting emphasis on the ‘bonding’ just to push your buttons a little further.

And you were right, Jun was just being annoying—as he usually is. Yesterday was exam day, and you had exceeded your own expectations, whereas Jun, well, you guys hadn’t really brought up his score yet. But, either way, it was your final exam and you were proud to have ended your last semester on a good note.

“Hey, if you wanna bond, you have to at least do the bare minimum and talk.” Jun ruffled your hair, and you mumbled profanities to yourself.

“Mr. Wen Junhui, respectfully, shut up.” You scoffed, patting your messy hair back into place. “Can we watch the new Little Mermaid movie? Please?”

“What? No! I thought we were watching Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse! You agreed to it!” He whined.

“No, we're watching the Little Mermaid and that’s that!”

“Aweeeee… How come you always get what you want?”

Wiping his hands with a cloth, Jun sighs as he sees his hands, yet again, sweaty. Today’s packing day—and technically, he’s not supposed to be moving yet, however, he has other plans.

He places the last of his boxes outside his and Minghao’s dorm, internally whining when he hears very familiar keys jingling, the noise more prominent each and every step.

Looking up, Jun sees someone he’d usually be more than elated to see—however, right now, he wishes they’d never cared for him in the first place. After all, this was the right thing to do.

“Huh, Junnie?” You stopped, with a somewhat confused and positive look on your face. God how he wishes that he’d never had to tell you. “Why’re you already moving? Are you really that eager—“

“Shut up with your teasing, I’m tired of it.” He bit his lip—did I really say that? “I’m not in the mood for any of your antics right now.”

Jun looks up from the boxes giving you an unfamiliar and more hostile look, watching your soft expression form into something more apprehensive. He wishes he didn’t have to do this, I wish I didn’t have to watch the beautiful laugh on her face fade.

You put your hand on his wrist, caressing the soft and supple skin with your thumb to calm him down, until he shoves you away and pulls back, that is.

“What?… Jun, why are you so hostile today, is something up? You know you could always tell me—“

“No, I told you to shut up. I don’t wanna tell you shit, and I won’t ever tell you shit again if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

You slowly back away, trying to hide the fact a huge lump in your throat was building, and that yout eyes were starting to water. This was what he wanted, it’s what you didn’t expect. It was better to hurt you now than to hurt you later.

“Just leave, I don’t wanna see your face again. Matter of fact—I’m moving to China, so I won’t have to see you ever again.”

“Huh?”

Jun coldly walks back into his dorm, slamming the door to emphasize his so-called hatred. Behind him, he hears yelling from you that he tried to ignore, but what you says really gets in his head.

“Okay, well fuck you too! I don’t even care if you're going to China, I don’t care about you!”

He rests his head on the wall and mumbles,

“乌云无语晕开 [The love I didn’t say then].”

Great, just great, you thought. You scrolled on Snapchat, and looked at everybody's stories. They were all a stupidly clear video of you and Jun arguing—captioned “The infamous couple, broken up?”

And even worse of all, everybody was contacting you to see if you were okay, everyone was claiming Jun was in the wrong, even though you knew damn well they’d probably been texting Jun earlier.

Throwing your phone down onto your bed just when you thought that call was gonna be the last of them, you feel vibration from under your bed’s covers. I wonder who it is this time, you thought.

Taking your phone hesitantly, your breath hitched for a second—it was Minghao.

Minghao was Jun’s best friend since childhood, brother from another mother, basically. And since you are, well, were Jun’s best friend, it wasn’t rare for you to bond at times when Jun wasn’t with you guys.

Minghao and you bonded about things that Jun wouldn’t understand half of the time. But it made him seem like an even more reliable friend, it made it seem like he didn’t stick around just because you were acquainted with Jun; but because you were a good person.

Which is why you were semi-surprised about seeing the incoming call from him, and equally as hesitant to pick it up. But, you didn’t want to ruin yet another friendship so, why not?

Silence rang through the line as you picked up the phone.

“Hey Jun. I’m gonna go use the bathroom, give me a second.”

You bit your lip. Oh he lives with Jun now, I figured. You shrugged it off, you knew Minghao wasn’t the type to secretly tell Jun all your secrets. Right?

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” He whispered. “You know we live in an apartment together since we moved together, I mean, it’s logical. But I don’t want him to hear what you have to say.”

You hummed in response, hoping the phone would pick up the noise. “So, what exactly did you wanna ask me, Hao?”

“What exactly happened between you and Jun? One day, you guys are best friends who literally have toothbrushes in each other's dorms—and the next you guys are people who’ve never met!”

“Sorry, it’s just all so confusing to me. Jun’s acting more distant and I can’t stand it. And so are you, you would’ve called me by now.” Minghao audibly sighed through the phone.

“It might sound hypocritical but, I just came to check up on him while he’s moving a couple of boxes out. I start joking around, and he just seems to be pissed off with me and,“ A tear falls down your cheek. “He just says a bunch of shit like he doesn’t wanna see me again and he hates me, man, that stuck with me.”

You could hear the surprise in Minghao’s voice when he talks. “Oh, really? He’s been acting like he was the one who got wronged. I’m sorry that happened to you, ____.”

Your hand grew tired of holding the phone up to your ear, so you decided to plop on your bed, phone next to ear. “It’s fine really, Hao. You’re not at fault, you don’t even deserve to be caught up in all this.”

“____, listen.” It caught you by surprise he’d dropped the honorifics, but you didn’t show it. “It was my choice to get caught up in this drama you two have. I could’ve just not called you or ignored Jun.”

“Don’t put the blame on yourself. I know how close you were to Jun and just because you were close and you guys fell apart doesn’t mean it’s your fault. Hell, it’s Jun’s fault and I can admit it as his best friend.”

Choked sobs were heard through the line, and Minghao knew better than to keep talking. “Thank you Hao.” You whispered. “I think I need some time to think for myself though, I’ll call you later. Bye-bye.”

The line fell.

It’d been a couple of months since you and Jun stopped being friends. You had gotten over him, for the most part, of course you still thought of him from time to time and the thoughts would eat you up—you were still better than before, until today.

You were flipping through your favorite TV channels, great every single one’s on an ad break, you thought. And to your horror, the last one, which had usually had to do with modeling, design, photography, etc. had been airing a fashion week runway. And guess who was walking on that fucking runway.

Wen Junhui.

You felt your throat getting drier and drier by the second. However you sat felt uncomfortable, the temperature of the room felt humid and unbearable. Everything didn’t seem right.

His outfit seemed uncomfortable yet it suited his facial features so perfectly, and oh, he dyed his hair blonde? He looked so much more different, and the truth was, you were so fucking into it. You couldn’t bring yourself to switch the channels, you were just waiting for him to cycle back onto the runway to see his next outfit.

The next outfit looked ethereal on him. Since when did he have abs, and when did they get so toned? It was a bold choice for the stylists to not conceal his eyebags, you thought, but it made him so much more appealing and attractive, you hated to admit.

You decided to finally shut off the TV but now you were all hot and bothered. You thought it was ridiculous, ridiculous that you were all shaken up for an ex-best friend. For an ex-crush.

Throwing yourself on your bed, you sighed, rubbing your thighs. Opening Instagram, you searched up the familiar name of Wen Junhui. This is so wrong, you cried out.

Pulling down your shorts, you trailed your fingers up your shirt, down to your breasts, to your stomach and finally to where your panties sat. You moaned at how wet you were.

Two of your fingers dipped down into your sopping hole, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your mouth formed into an O and soft and quiet little gasps came from your mouth.

This is so wrong. So fucking wrong. And you knew it. There was a pit deep in your stomach, and no, it wasn’t the pit in your stomach that you’d normally get from pleasuring yourself. It was from guilt. Pure guilt.

You knew it was wrong, but you kept going, moans growing louder by each and every curl of your finger. Tears bubbling at your eyes, falling onto your pillow thinking if you guys had never argued that day, maybe it’d be his fingers in your pussy right now. Not your own.

“Junnie…” A nickname that now feels foreign slips past your lips, salty tears staining your lips much like a sign to not chant his name. With enough twists of your fingers, you manage to wrap yourself undone, chest rising up and falling back down with each breath.

Sitting up, you sighed. The reality of it all hit you like a truck. You’d never be able to see or talk to Jun ever again. Whether you liked it or not. He was a famous model and you were just some nerd who did graphic design for a living.

But even with all taken, it was still reasonable to have some hope. Right?

jejuboo-s 2023

@itzxvaxella @svtup @nctsslut @dulcecreatura @hertatsu @baekshunnie @staygenezy @ace-of-angels22 @bittersweetells @varverat @areenalight @rzrbladelmnade @whitenana @yukkaaaaa @wonushuasworld @arianabintesharif @lovelyhyuka14 @jeanjacketjesus @emilyhadenbaker @yoonna22 @ni-aaaaaaa @1ntaktak @believeinmagical25 @lostsoul23 @junhour @jaemin9yu @chiefshoebanditalien @dixirwe @muawwo @sleepyyizzyy @jiniesclub @anna-357 @sugar8 @seokcrafts @svtgivesmesvts @cowmilk0 @mcpl @jackeline3302 @snsdswrld @booitschoco @jnhthy @woohui @imbnpreader @pakaosta @anama34 @rikiswife05 @sulkygyu @h-ao @moonie-junnie @calssunflower @kpopfan1130 @jarak0j @yayitslauraaa @inner19daysinteriorshound @undercoveemafiaa @wwsfg @kim-hunter5 @peachesjvn @weeee-eeee @this-cool-chick @xiaovenmisser @jun-cat @gyuldaengie6 @creativetaehan @subsikkie people who couldn’t be tagged in comments ^^

#seventeen smut #kpop smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader smut #kpop x reader #seventeen angst #jun smut #jun angst #jun fluff #junhui smut #junhui angst #junhui fluff #.leeworks #kpop fluff #kpop angst

226 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,400 Warnings: Language, cliffhangers (lol).

Part 4: Guessing Game

The next morning was a Wednesday. Despite the monumental, life-changing things that happened yesterday, unfortunately, you still had to go to work. You also had three class finals to finish.

Still, you woke invigorated with a new energy you had never felt before because you had finally, finally met your soulmate.

…Okay, not so much met him, but at least you had shared a telepathic conversation! That still counted!

…No matter how actually insane that sounded.

So you got ready for your day with an added pep in your step. You dressed “work casual”: white blouse tucked into a black skirt, tights because of the cold, black boots, and your favorite red winter coat. It hung to about your knees, so it would protect your legs. You even had the energy to put on some makeup and style your hair a little, fixing the frizzy kinks into some smoother waves down your back.

You looked into the mirror and you felt proud of your reflection. Not just how you looked, but of how you were able to carry yourself with your head held high.

With your purse and books gathered, you ventured downstairs and found your dad already puttering through the kitchen. You accepted the mug of coffee he offered and sipped at it while you packed a lunch.

Hmm, getting low on groceries. I’ll have to swing by the store on the way home, you thought.

There was one other thing that snagged in your mind, and that was having to reschedule your visit with Bobby. After you “hung up” with your soulmate (who frustratingly refused to give you his name yet), you realized how late it was and called your uncle for a rain check. But you fully intended to keep your word and visit him today, after work.

Now, you eyed your dad as he read the paper at the small kitchen nook. You took your coffee and sat down across from him (you still had a few minutes before you had to leave).

“How’s the world?” you asked him, nodding at the newspaper.

“Great,” he replied dryly. “Just one big dumpster fire.”

The corner of your mouth quirked upwards. “Any local flames?”

Jack sighed and lowered the paper, meeting her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. You carry pepper spray, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

“And your handgun? Where’d you put it?” he asked. You frowned.

Your father was a cop and this was the Midwest. You did have a concealed carrier’s permit, but you weren’t allowed to have your gun on you at school, so you typically stored it in the nightstand by your bed. Jack knew that.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“There’s been a series of home invasions across town, two of them in our neighborhood,” he said, giving you a firm look. “Watch yourself when you leave the house, when you head to your car, when you leave campus.”

“I know, Dad,” you replied. “By the way…are you planning on going to see Mom today? I didn’t get a chance to go yesterday, so we could go together if you want.”

You were attempting to lend an olive branch after yesterday’s argument. Jack, however, wasn’t getting the hint.

“I can’t.” He shook his head and tapped at the newspaper headline. “I’m actually heading this case…most of these have been what we call ‘push-ins.’”

“What’s a push-in?” you asked. You could guess, but you didn’t like how serious your dad was right now.

“Let’s say someone knocks at the door. You’re not expecting anyone, not even the pizza guy. What do you do?” Jack asked.

“Check who it is through the peephole,” you answer.

“What if your door doesn’t have one?”

This was easy. Your father had drilled this into you since you were eight years old. “Ask who it is through the door. Don’t open it unless you know them, or unless you can smell pizza through the door crack.”

“Good. Most people will just open the door without checking,” Jack said. “The guy shoves his way in and attacks you. That’s a push-in.”

Goddamn. You didn't know there was a name for that.

“And how many of these have happened so far?” you asked.

“Four that we know of,” he replied. “It hasn’t hit the news yet but…Mrs. Jenkins was killed last night. We found the poor thing literally clutching her pearls.”

You blanched, setting down your coffee. Shock hit you first, then sadness. Mrs. Jenkins was the sweet old lady who used to make cookies for Sunday school when you were a kid. She’d given you $50 for college textbooks when you graduated from high school, and then flowers when you graduated with your bachelor’s degree.

Your eyes burned with emotion. “I can’t believe it. He was after her pearls?”

“I imagine she didn’t want to give ‘em up,” Jack said. “Or she held on out of reflex. When you’re afraid, logic tends to fly out the window.”

You understood that, but you couldn’t believe she’d died for her jewelry. You rubbed the silver ring on your right hand and rationalized to yourself. You knew you could give up your mom’s ring if it meant the difference between that and a bullet in your brain.

Your dad was still telling you to be careful when you left the house that morning. He only nagged and rode your ass about your future career because he cared. You knew that. But the nagging was a test of your ever-thinning patience.

Once you got on the road, you had an hour to kill on your commute. Then a flash of an idea occurred to you, making you smile. With a deep breath, you sought that thread of energy inside your mind. You didn’t know if this would work. It wouldn’t be long until you were driving away from Sioux Falls and headed to Vermillion, but you hoped the connection would win out.

The thread brightened with your focus on it, and suddenly you could feel him. Your soulmate.

Good morning, sleepyhead, you greeted cheerfully. His response was more sluggish.

No, it ain’t.

His grumpy voice made you laugh. Aw, someone’s grouchy in the morning.

This lumpy couch killed my back, he complained. And I could hear my brother’s snoring from downstairs.

So he had a brother. That was an interesting tidbit of information you’d save for later. You smiled.

You’re a cute grouch.

Excuse me, princess. I’m not a “cute” anything. He sounded mildly offended, but you sensed he was just as amused as you.

So what’s your brother’s name? you asked.

He hesitated, but eventually he replied, His name’s Sam.

Okay, so his brother’s name was safe, but his name had to be a mystery. And his job. That annoyed you, though you supposed it was part of the game.

What’re you up to? he asked.

On my way to work.

Oh, yeah? What do you do?

Even though you shook your head at the hypocrisy of his question, you decided to answer honestly. Well, I’m finishing up grad school next semester. This week is finals, then we break until January. But I also work part-time for one of my professors as her assistant.

Look at you, he said with a whistle. Beauty and brains.

You quirked a smile. If only your dad were that impressed. Technically you haven’t confirmed the “beauty” bit. I could be a potato with legs for all you know.

You sensed rather than heard his laughter.

Nah, a voice that sexy can’t be Potato Girl.

You blushed up to your ears at that one. No one had ever described your voice that way. Quiet, mousy yes—and mainly by Dr. Birch—but never sexy.

Your soulmate was definitely a flirt, if nothing else.

Hmm, you had that line locked and loaded, didn’t you?

Nope. That was fresh, sweetheart, he said. I’m just that creative.

Sure, you laughed again. It’s already 9:00 a.m. Don’t you have somewhere to be?

Yeah, now that you mention it. I’ve gotta get going to work too.

That was disappointing, but at least you’d learned something new. Your soulmate wasn’t a morning person, and he had a brother.

Do you and your brother both have the same mystery job?

…Yeah, actually. We work together, he said. Good question, Nancy Drew.

Yes! You smiled in triumph.

You made a few more guesses about his job: police officer, teacher, leader of a biker gang—all of which were apparently wrong.

But keep ‘em comin’, he said. You’ll get it eventually.

You let out an annoyed huff. But then you felt his amusement, like he was genuinely enjoying himself while talking with you. That warmed you up enough for now.

After a long day at the university, you relished coming home knowing you only had two more days until winter break.

You stopped at the grocery store on the way home, like you’d planned, but now you regretted it. There were only two cashiers open despite a packed store. Ugh. Just my luck.

You chose the one that didn’t have a screaming child throwing his mother’s apples out of the cart, but you did stop to help her pick them up.

“Thanks, hun,” she said tiredly. You nodded with a sympathetic smile.

“How old is he?” you asked.

“Two and a half,” she said. You tried to hide your reaction, but she gave a wry smile and returned to her child.

Good luck, you wanted to say, but you kept that yourself and returned to your cart. As the line inched forward, you wondered if you wanted kids.

Never really thought about it before, you could admit. You supposed there was a lot to consider, but maybe most importantly: It has to be with the right person.

You wondered if your soulmate was that person, or if having kids one day (or not) was going to be a dealbreaker for him.

Then you snorted, shaking your head. Okay, you’re getting very ahead of yourself. You haven’t even met the man.

“Hey, look who it is!”

The cashier’s voice startled you from your thoughts. When you broke out of your reverie, you realized you were at the front of the line, and Danny Schmitt was once again your checkout guy. Part of you withered, but you tried at a polite smile as you busied yourself by emptying your cart on the conveyer belt. “Hey, Danny. How’re you doing?”

“Been good. And yourself? You look good,” he said. He wasn’t very discreet about checking you out. You blushed, but more from discomfort than flattery.

“Thanks,” you said, a bit awkwardly, and started bagging the groceries he rang up.

“What have you been up to?” he asked. “Every time I see you, you’re dressed up like you’re goin’ to a Broadway show or something.”

Broadway? You glanced down at your work casual blouse and skirt. To the movie theater, maybe. Less Mamma Mia and more Magic Mike.

“I like it though. Skirt and boots, always a sexy combo,” Danny said, and gave you a wink. You had no doubt that many a girl had swooned at the move, but you were less charmed and more annoyed. You finished bagging your stuff and paid with your credit card in silence.

The high school version of yourself would’ve blushed at Danny’s attention. After stapling his fingers together in freshman year, he’d gone through a growth spurt the next. He’d joined the wrestling team, and paired with his light blonde hair and square jaw, the girls hadn’t stopped stumbling over themselves to get with him.

After high school, though, Danny didn’t get that sports scholarship for college. It also looked like he didn’t have the drive for anything else, either. He’d worked this same job at the Piggly Wiggly since you graduated six years ago.

All right, check your privilege, you reminded yourself, feeling guilty for judging him. Not everyone’s cut out for college. You don’t even know exactly what you want to do with your life.

“Have a good one,” he said, handing you the receipt. “And hey, let me know if you want to get a coffee sometime, or dinner. Flannigan’s has a two-for-one special on beer pitchers…I’ll pay. Or, you know, we could split it. You know, equality and all that. Hell, even you could pay if you wanted to.” He laughed.

Tempting, you thought. Though you’d have to remember about that two-for-one special. Uncle Bobby might want to make that your beer pilgrimage tonight.

“You know, I’ve been pretty busy lately,” you said, trying your best at a smile. “But I’ll let you know!”

Maybe it was rude of you, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply as you took your cart and waved goodbye.

Bobby welcomed you into his home, with what could only be described as a “gruff smile.” You shed your winter coat, but finding no hooks on the wall, you just draped it over the back of the living room couch.

“Come in,” he beckoned with a hand. “Don’t mind the mess. I was just finishing up some…work.”

Indeed, there were several books strewn across the coffee table, the dining table, the little accent table next to the couch—basically every available space in the living room was covered with books, manuscripts, and loose papers. Your eyes scanned over some of them. Raising a brow, you picked up one of the books.

“Omens, Trials, and Tribulations: A Guided Study on the Book of Revelation,” you read, and gave Bobby a curious look. “Doing some light reading alongside the New King James?”

Bobby shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”

Somehow you didn’t think that was the whole story, but you smiled in amusement. Then you noticed some rumpled bed sheets on the couch, a green duffle bag dumped on the floor.

“Do you have someone staying over? Should I come back another day?” you asked.

“Nah, I’ve got a couple of knuckleheads staying over, but they’re not here right now,” he said. “I sent them to work on somethin’.”

“Oh, towing a car for you?” you asked.

“More like, checking out a possible job,” he explained, though that didn’t really explain anything at all. It left you even more curious as you got the sense he was leaving something out again, but you didn’t press it. Instead, you followed him into the kitchen.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

“That’s why I’m here,” you joked. “Dad drinks ‘em like a fish. By the time I get home, the fridge is damn-near empty.”

“How is he?” Bobby handed you the beer and you took it gratefully.

“He’s the same. Buried in cases. I made him something before I left, for when he gets home,” you replied. Then you sighed and sat down at the two-seater table in the kitchen. “He didn’t even go to visit Mom on the anniversary.”

Just then, you realized something. You hadn’t actually visited Mom either, because you’d been distracted…hearing your soulmate’s thoughts for the first time.

Damn it…

Well, in this case your mom would probably forgive you, but you felt guilty all the same. You slid your ring around your finger absently.

Bobby sat across from you at the table. “The past can be a hard thing to let go of, but the real bitch of it is, it’s also hard remembering.”

You nodded in agreement.

“How’re you doin’ then?” he asked. Instead of a customary fine, or busy, you actually thought about it.

“Yesterday…I don’t know. I felt stuck. Like, I was hanging onto the train but I wasn’t in the driver’s seat,” you admitted. “Today, I woke up and things were different.”

“That’s specific,” Bobby remarked. You shot him a wry smile.

“I don’t know. I’ve spent a long time just, like…trudging through the snow. Trying to keep the flurries out of my eyes,” you said. “But for the first time, I feel like I can see the sun, you know? There’s a reason to hope things might change. Like something good is coming my way.”

Bobby’s mouth lifted into a subtle grin. “Very poetic. You should think about writin’ for Hallmark.”

You uttered an incredulous laugh. “All right. See if I pour my heart out to you again. God.”

“My apologies, princess,” Bobby said dryly. “Okay. In all seriousness, you’ve got a lot goin’ for ya, kid. You’ve got a right to be optimistic.”

You nodded with a superior smile. “Thank you.”

“Listen, I’ve got a lasagna waiting in the oven. You want any part of that?” he asked.

Your uncle was asking if you wanted to stay for dinner. You considered it and realized he was trying to connect with you. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered, and you regretted declining his loose invitations in the past.

“Sure,” you said. “Lasagna sounds great.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Gimme a sec.”

You had never understood the seemingly one-sided animosity between your dad and your uncle. Sure, Bobby was known as the town drunk. He’d gotten arrested a few times for publicly intoxicated antics, but he wasn’t belligerent. He wasn’t a bad man by any means.

“You know, speaking of Italian. I like making spaghetti and meatballs, the latter from scratch,” you said. “Maybe I could make some next time.”

Bobby glanced over at you with a bit of surprise. “Uh…sure.”

You smiled.

Later, as you and Bobby shared a meal together, you caught up on safe subjects, like how his business was going. He likewise asked you about your job. You admitted Dr. Birch was driving you up the wall this week. She’d asked you to grade two more of her classes’ final exams, putting you behind on your thesis draft.

But then you drew enough courage to delve into not-so-safe subjects.

“All right, I’ve gotta know,” you said. “Why the hell did you and my dad fall out, Bobby? What is this thing?”

Bobby looked very reluctant. “It’s complicated.”

You stared back at him for a moment. Curiosity was eating at you, but you didn’t want to push either. Today was going well. Maybe it was better not to spoil it.

“Complicated,” you echoed, smiling ruefully. “Right.”

After you two finished dinner and the dishes were cleared, you thanked Bobby and surprised him with a hug. His arms came around you briefly before you both let go, just a little awkwardly.

You put on your coat and headed out the door, until his voice stopped you on the porch.

“Look, regardless of where your dad and I stand, you’re family,” Bobby said. “You’re always welcome here.”

You gave a warm smile. “Thanks, Uncle Bobby.”

Then you returned to your Camaro and drove away from Singer Salvage, waving to his through your window as you went.

You made a left at the main road going west, so you didn’t see the black Impala come in from the east road, turning into Bobby’s driveway.

“What were those smooth wheels doing pulling out of this junk heap?” Dean jabbed a thumb behind him as he and Sam came into the house. They’d gotten nothing from that potential lead on John Winchester’s whereabouts, and neither of them were in a great mood. But the smell of food cheered up both of them, especially Dean.

“What?” Bobby asked.

“That blue ’93 Camaro Z28 that just peeled outta here. She was nice,” Dean said. Sam glanced at him, impressed. Dean smirked, an Aw, yeah, I know my shit kind of look.

Bobby smiled in amusement. “My niece stopped by for dinner.”

Sam shared a look of mild surprise with Dean, who said, “That’s a shame. Would’ve liked to meet her.”

Bobby shot him a warning look. “Down, boy. Like you need any help findin’ dance partners.”

Dean grinned. Sam nearly rolled his eyes.

“The lead didn’t pan out,” Sam said. “So we’re gonna head out in the morning, if that’s all right.”

“Fine,” Bobby shrugged. “Drink my beer, eat my food, and run up my water bill. Just do me a favor and clean up after yourselves. I don’t need a roach infestation.”

“What, don’t you think the rats need company?” Dean teased. Bobby raised a warning finger at him, making Dean hold back a laugh.

Bobby went upstairs for bed soon after, and Dean gave Sam first shower this time. It was good timing too…

Dean realized he could hear his soulmate again.

You were rocking out to a Billy Joel song.

He smirked. Figures.

As you drove home blasting “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” you chanted along with the long verses, sometimes forgetting words, sometimes stumbling and saying them wrong. But you came in strong with the part you knew: We didn’t start the fiiire. It was always buuurnin’ since the world’s been tuuurnin’—

Figures, your soulmate’s voice cut through everything else. It almost startled you, but feeling his amusement made you blush hotly.

He laughed, and it was a rich sound that made something flutter in your stomach.

Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt the performance. But come on, ‘80s pop?

You scoffed. All right, Mr. Power Ballad. Billy Joel is pop rock.

Gotta say, I expected better from you, sweetheart, he teased.

Ugh, you sound like such an old man. Tell me you don’t just listen to mullet rock, you rejoined.

All right. Let’s take an inventory, shall we? he challenged. ACDC. Led Zeppelin. Boston.

You made a face as you continued to drive through your hometown. You knew these streets like the back of your hand, even in the pitch black of eleven at night.

Yes to Zeppelin. The other two are…loud, you said. You heard him sigh, but he accepted this.

Fine, how about Hendrix?

Absolutely. You smiled. I take your Hendrix and raise you Prince and Beyonce.

Prince, yes. You can keep Beyonce, he said. Sorry, I’m not Team BeyHive.

You chortled in response. The fact that you know what that means give me hope. At least you’re aware that you live in the 2000s.

Whatever. I was raised on two things: classic rock and the open road.

His grumpiness was entertaining, but this gave you an excellent opportunity to play your little game.

The open road, huh? Are you some kind of traveling salesman? you asked.

Definitely not.

Hmm. Perhaps he sensed your frustration. He surprised you by giving you a hint.

Travel is part of it though.

Aha! I knew it.

Oh yeah? How?

This morning you said you were sleeping on a couch, you began. You typically don’t do that if you’re not at home in your bed. So I could assume you were traveling, and you had to work today. But I didn’t know you had to travel often for work until you just said it.

You felt proud of your deductive reasoning. So now I know that you and your brother have the same job. It’s unlikely you live in Sioux Falls. And you travel often for work.

Dean whistled lowly. Damn, girl. Somehow you’re reminding me of Sam right now…what are you studying again?

You noted a brief tendril of sadness from him, being quickly brushed off. You didn’t dwell on it, but you would make a mental note of it for later, maybe.

History, you replied.

Oh, okay. Gonna be a teacher or something?

I…don’t really know yet. I’ve been scoping out jobs…

You’ve almost got two degrees and you don’t know what you wanna do with ‘em?

All right, that was hitting a nerve.

“You know what? Don’t change the subject!” you said. Realizing you said that out loud, you made sure to think it at him this time.

You don’t live in Sioux Falls right? Or South Dakota even? you added.

Look at you go, little miss detective, he replied. You thought he enjoyed teasing you a bit too much. No, I don’t live here. But a family friend does.

Okay, so that narrowed it down to everything.

You turned the street corner into your neighborhood. The streetlights were sparse here ever since the last snowstorm knocked them out. Your dad had talked about installing ground lights in the front lawn for years, but he’d never gotten around to it. His job was too demanding to take care of much at home, which left you with most of the responsibility. Sometimes you wondered how your mom did it…

Anyway, back to the game.

Plumber, electrician, flight attendant? You guessed. You had a feeling from the way he talked about your schooling that he hadn’t gone to college. You didn’t mind that. If this stupid game was anything to go by, it sounded like he had an interesting way of making a living.

Nope to all three, especially the last one. Ugh.

Goddamn it. Okay, do you own a business?

You could say that. It’s a family business, he said. There was a playful note to this voice, as if he was dancing around the truth.

Dear Lord. All right, a family business…

It was probably something small-scale. A diner? Hardware store?

It’s not a physical store. More like a…a service.

You were getting warmer! With a smile, you made your way down your street and pulled your car into the driveway. Surprise, surprise, your dad wasn’t home yet.

Got it. You nodded. Okay, truck driver. Service engineer, electrician…oh shit, I said that earlier. Hmm…exterminator?

You grabbed your purse and finally got out of your car. You’d made it all the way to your front door when you realized that your soulmate had gone quiet. You sensed he was thinking, contemplating.

You nearly bounced in excitement as you unlocked the door to your house. I’m right, aren’t I? Which one?

After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you turned on the hallway and living room lights.

The last one, he said at last. You paused in your excitement, your brows furrowed.

Exterminator. Really? That was curious. Who’d ever heard of a traveling exterminator? Like rats and stuff?

And stuff, he said with a chuckle, but somehow you knew it was hollow. You frowned, until you looked into the living room and noticed something weird.

A black duffel bag that didn’t look like your dad’s. You don’t remember it being there this morning either.

Hey, you okay? he asked. You realized that he was probably sensing your confusion. You headed toward the duffel bag.

Yeah, I just got home—

The moment you set down your purse on the coffee table, a hand closed over your mouth and muffled your scream.

AN: Yay, cliffhangers! (I promise they'll meet in the next chapter lol.)

Also, I just want to say THANK YOU to all of you reading, reblogging, commenting, etc. I didn't think this little fic would generate that much interest, but getting your feedback is inspiring me to write more!

Keep reading: Part 5.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445

643 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Note

Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him.

But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night.

When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin.

You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle.

Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’

“Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months.

But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

“You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym.

And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat.

“Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?”

You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym.

As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee.

Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light.

Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright.

But everything was not alright.

This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

Fuck.

It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl.

And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music.

Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you.

But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym.

It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him.

To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights.

Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters.

You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces.

A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle.

Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?”

“Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice.

“And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely.

“I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear.

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.”

“Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.”

You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.”

He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office.

You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?”

“Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

“I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship.

The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold.

At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected.

You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot.

But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you.

“And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun.

“I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards.

You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you.

“I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

“Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…”

You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss.

Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.”

A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before.

So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you.

And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around.

You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly.

You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak.

Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you.

Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again.

And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks.

Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone.

“It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street.

But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench.

He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval.

Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot.

And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle.

The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?”

A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.”

Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable.

Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours.

“Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot.

Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive.

“O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot.

“Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car.

“Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.”

After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out.

During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead.

“And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.”

“I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed.

"I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…”

Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.”

“And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?”

His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage.

Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future.

Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.”

“And how do you know that, mister?”

“Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.”

“Well, maybe I’m the exception.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.”

The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble.

He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.”

Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…”

Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?”

“Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him.

“Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

“Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands.

“Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.”

A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?”

You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.”

He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?”

You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?”

Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.”

You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves.

“Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?”

“How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.”

Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss.

Fin.

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist so that you always get notified when i post a new work? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can simply send me a msg and request to be added that way~

605 notes · View notes

corporatefrog · 1 year

Text

꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: team stan reacting to yn being in the hospital✧.*

✧.* tags: superhero au, college au

✧.* Characters: stan marsh, kyle broflovski, kenny mccromick, butters stotch

a/n: i ran into a bit of a wall with team craig but i'm going to give it another go tomorrow!

masterlist

Stan:

You send him a text saying you won’t be at the next dnd session because your in the hospital with a broken rib

Straight up just says “I’m sorry”

Nothing else. He doesn’t know how to talk to people.

You saw him dealing with kenny dying, he does NOT know what to say

He’s freaking the fuck out though irl. Are you okay? What if you aren’t okay? What is he going to do if you aren’t okay?

He comes to visit you when you tell Kenny and Kyle and they DRAG him into the room

He got you a giant fucking basket of random stuff that doesn’t really apply to you but you appreciate it nonetheless

“Are there any broken rib vitamins in here?”

“Those are a thing? I didn’t realize they made those. I can go grab some right now-”

“I fucking with you, dude. Thank you for the basket :)”

Kenny:

You’re talking to him normally, chatting about your day

Then he asks if you want to get pizza, smoke, and watch Rango

“Oh sorry, I’m in the hospital rn so probably not tonight"

"WHAT???"

"yeah my bus was hit by the stampede of cows from the villain attack yesterday"

You get no response

But that’s because 5 minutes later, kenny is standing in the doorway of your hospital room with a slushie from 7/11 in hand

It was the only thing he thought to get you (because who doesn’t love a slushie?)

You’ve got a few bruises and a hairline fracture on your ankle but Kenny acts like you are on death’s door

“Just don’t go towards the light”

“If you really thought I was dying, you should’ve brought me more than slushie.”

“Should I have brought 2 slushies?”

Becomes your personal errand boy until you’ve recovered.

Hungry? He’s got your grocery list and a recipe printed out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Bored? Time for a movie marathon.

Need help with class? He’s dragging kyle down the hall for whatever you may need.

Butters:

He was there when you got hurt because you were trying to film a fight and the coon miscalculated his landing spot, landing on a bunch of trash cans and sending a lid hurtling towards you

Obviously as butters, he’d rush over and help you

But he was PROFESSOR CHAOS

And what is more chaotic than a civilian being included in the battle?

But this wasn’t any civilian, it was YOU

And he’ll ground HIMSELF if he lets someone get away with hurting you >:(

He’d shout out a “TIME OUT” which mainly just confuses everyone (as any agent of chaos would do)

But it’s enough time for him to grab you and run away from the fight to his LAIR OF CHAOS where general disarray is able to give you a check up

After working with chaos for a few years, general disarray realized there needed to be someone with medical training so he took a few courses at the community center and now he’s on his way to being a registered nurse!

Doesn’t stop apologizing even though you tell him it wasn’t his fault.

Takes all of his stuffed animals from his bed and brings them over to you so you’re not alone while you wait for Disarray to give you the go ahead to go home

Kyle

Probably asking why you weren’t in class and you tell him you’re in the hospital

Thinks it’s a joke at first

But you send him a picture of you hooked up to the heart monitor

The coon had used you as a human shield during a fight with a villain and you ended up getting hit with an energy blast by Solar Flare (bebe’s supervillain persona hehe)

He calls you instantly

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t kill him, kyle”

“Too late. I'm killing him. This is too fucking far.”

“Aw you care 🙂”

“No i just needed a reason to finally put that fucker in the ground.”

“Oh sure, just be mean to the person hooked up to fucking life support”

“YOU'RE ON LIFE SUPPORT?!”

“No, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“When i’m done killing cartman, you’re next.”

Spoiler alert: he was joking.

He brings you flowers and a sudoku probably

And the notes from the class you missed like the absolute king he is

Talks to the doctor when you get discharged and basically becomes a live-in nurse

“The doctor said you need to limit your screen time while you recover. Do your crossword instead”

Okay fucking MOM

Just kidding it’s sweet

#south park headcanons #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh #butters stotch #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #corporatefrog

363 notes · View notes

knoxmares · 6 months

Text

how filling - che'nya x dom(ish) top amab reader

MINORS DNI

tags: che'nya exhibiting some yandere behavior, stuffing, emeto, mentions of sickness, implied fwb relationship, slightly under-negotiated kink a/n: unofficial sequel to this fic. you don't have to read it to enjoy this one, but there's some details that are carried over

You’re smirking before Che’nya even opens the door, his genuine look of shock being just what you predicted.

“Surprise…”

“Wha-“ his wide yellow eyes blink slowly as if he thought you were a hallucination. You suppose this is your first time visiting him at the Royal Sword Academy, and it gives you satisfaction knowing you’ve caught him off guard for once.

“Gonna invite me in, kitty? You know I’m really not supposed to be here, so there’s no telling what goody two shoes might report me.” You glance down the dorm hallway, which is thankfully still vacant. Unfortunately, you don’t have Che’nya’s disappearing ability, which allows him to be effortlessly sneaky.

“You never need an invitation” he eyes you curiously as he steps back to let you in, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders. You swiftly step inside allowing yourself to scan the dimly lit room, which you’ve only seen in pictures and video calls. Considering you are childhood friends, one would think you would have visited him at some point during the three years you’ve been enrolled at separate schools, but he dropped in on you so frequently there was never a need to.

“How are you feeling?” You set down the bag you brought on his desk. You had brought him some food since he had told you he was slowly getting his appetite back.

“A bit better I suppose” he pouts slightly shuffling back over to his bed. “I’m going to start going back to classes tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” You join him on his bed, and you notice his soft look of surprise when you leave no distance between you two. “I hope you’re not pushing yourself to go back too soon. Someone has been bringing you your work, no?” You can’t help but reach out a hand to try to assess his condition yourself. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, and it feels normal, but you press it to his cheek for good measure. He purrs at your actions, holding your hand against his cheek as he nuzzles into it further.

“You’re not worried about getting sick?” Che’nya looks more like himself than ever glancing up at you seductively with a smirk on his face. “Or maybe you just missed me too much.”

“Says the one who’s texted me nonstop telling me how miserable he is and complained that he had no one to take care of him.”

“No one as fun as you at least” he teasingly kisses the back of your hand that he’s still holding against his face.

“You really must be feeling better” you surmise. If he hadn’t sent you pictures of him looking peakish or voice messages of his terribly hoarse voice, you might believe he exaggerated his sickness to get you to come over. Though you were still suspicious of his intentions when he sent you a picture of him in his bed yesterday, dressed in lingerie and claiming to be “sooo bored.” You couldn’t deny part of you hoped that same lingerie was hidden under his blanket now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come over when you were sicker”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to come at all, but I’m glad you did” he gives you a toothy grin. “And you brought me something” his eyes glance over to the bag you brought, ears twitching with anticipation.

“Don’t get too excited. I just thought you might like a home cooked meal now that you’re eating more. You are keeping your food down now, right?”

“You made me food?” The second part of your sentence gets ignored as the thought of you preparing something for him evidently fills his head. His starry-eyed gaze keeps shifting from you to the bag, so you figure you might as well offer it to him now, which he readily accepts.

“It’s not anything special. You know I’m not much of a cook, so I just made you your favorite stew and also a strawberry tart, but you don’t have to eat it today of course” Your humble words do nothing to dull his excitement, his eager eyes never leaving you as you take out the stew and use your magic to heat it for him.

“Here you go” You try to hand him the bowl, but he gives you a sly look exposing his bare chest as he pulls his arms out of his blanket.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to have any spare hands at the moment” he shrugs his shoulders as he displays his arms that seemingly have no hands attached.

“How curious…” you steal his common phrase giving him a knowing look. “I guess I’ll have to feed it to you then.”

“I guess so…” Che’nya looks at you innocently, but you can imagine the playful flick of his tail being concealed by his blanket.

He happily accepts spoonfuls of stew, letting out occasional hums of pleasure between bites. Before you know it, he’s cleaned out the bowl and is asking for the strawberry tart. You attempt to get him to hold off to ensure the stew settles well in his stomach, but he insists he’s fine, so you get out the tart.

“And you made this?” The hunger in his eyes appears deeper than a desire for food.

“Yeah. Trey had a busy week, so I didn’t want to bother him with it. I followed his recipe though, so I think it turned out well”

“I’m sure it’s delicious” he assures you. “Especially since you were thinking of me while baking it” he doesn’t even try to veil his delight over the thought. He opens his mouth expectantly and you feed him a bite, choosing not to comment on the reappearance of his hands.

“Mmmm,” he licks his lips as if to savor every crumb. You offer him bite after bite which he chomps on happily.

“Okay maybe we should stop here, and that way you’ll have some more for later.”

“No” he whines. “It’s so good. I don’t want to stop.” He looks at you through his lashes pleading with you. “Please, feed me more.” Against your better judgment, you give in to him.

“Ok… but if you push yourself too far, that’s on you” you warn giving him another bite. He lets out an approving nod, humming happily. You can’t deny it does stir something in you seeing him eat your food so earnestly. You believe your own eyes must be filled with hunger when the blanket slips off his body, revealing him to only be wearing boxers. The band sits below his stomach which has a noticeable bulge.

He rubs it lazily as he takes longer breaks between bites. You assume he’s getting full based on his deeper breathing, but he has yet to refuse a bite, his soft smile never leaving his face. While he seems as content as ever you find yourself shifting in your spot, trying to ignore the feeling of your cock straining against your pants.

You came here as a friend you try to remind yourself, but the praise that falls from Che’nya’s lips doesn’t help your situation.

“Mmmm, I missed being able to eat properly, but now you’ve ruined other food for me. How am I supposed to enjoy anything when I know I could have your cooking instead? It feels so good being full of your food, so you have to cook for me more, okay?” He rubs his belly with both hands as if admiring the bulge himself.

“My belly would definitely get bigger if I got to eat your cooking all the time” he giggles to himself. “Wouldn’t you like to see that” He looks at you suggestively, and you can hardly hold yourself back any longer, moving your body so that you’re straddling his lap. He looks at you with amused curiosity, gently bucking up against you when you rub your hands across his stomach just like he was doing moments prior.

“I would actually” you smirk “But for now, how about you eat these last two bites for me”

“If that’s what you want” he whines a bit when you move your hands, but he looks at you with heavy lust as he wraps his lips around the fork you offer him. He pants slightly as he licks his lips, and you can’t help but offer him the last bite straight from your hands.

He doesn’t immediately take your fingers in his mouth, which is how you know he is reaching his limit. He takes a moment, seemingly steeling himself for the last bite, but eventually opens his mouth allowing you to place the last piece of tart inside. He closes his lips around your fingers, making sure to lick the tip of your fingers before he chews the bite in his mouth.

“Look at you, kitty. You actually ate it all” You go back to rubbing his stomach, letting your fingers drift a little higher to tease his nipples.

“Ah,” he lightly gasps. “I know I could fit more” he slightly lifts his hips so he can slowly grind against you.

“I should have known you’d be insatiable, even when you’re still recovering.” You lean back, letting your fingers lightly trace the stain of precum that marks his boxers. He’s all too eager to help you take off his only piece of clothing. He hisses in pleasure when you finally take him in your hand, but he’s quick to insist you rid yourself of your clothes too.

Just as eager to feel his touch, you don’t argue, swiftly getting off him so you can fulfill his request. You lay beside him now, his hands immediately going to stroke you. Your intermingled moans fill the space between you as you get each other off. You take your other hand and rub it against his tip, causing his hips to jerk. His head falls against your shoulder as he lets out a strangled moan, and you continue your movements.

“Please�� I’m ready for you…” he manages to pant out. “…wanna be full.”

“I don’t know if you should take me.” You can’t help but still be concerned about his limits.

“But I wan-“ He interrupts his own sentence with a cough, barely managing to cover his mouth. He pauses for a moment, but another harsh cough racks his body, most likely remnants of the sickness he had. He slowly sits up, facing away from you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Even though he stopped coughing, he still sits frozen, hand covering his mouth.

“Che’nya?” you have a feeling you know what’s wrong and those thoughts are soon confirmed when he starts his next coughing fit. Instead of covering his mouth, he instantly reaches for the wastebin by his bed that’s half filled with tissues. He clutches it tightly his cough suddenly turning into retching.

At the sound of him emptying his stomach into the wastebin, you quickly move so that you’re by his side. You soothingly rub his back as he continues to vomit, waiting patiently for him to get it all out.

“Fuck” he rasps out, a trail of saliva still hanging from his bottom lip and tears dotting the corner of his eyes. He wipes his mouth then takes a deep breath as he looks up, closing his eyes. Your hand that’s on his back drifts up to the nape of his neck where you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger.

“This is where you say I told you so” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, managing a small smirk. He doesn’t even wait for you to answer, softly chuckling to himself. “But I would do it again”

“My food was that good, huh?” There’s doubt laced in your words.

“Hmmmhmmm” he hums, his eyes are closed again, and you wonder if he’s feeling another wave of nausea, but he puts the wastebin back on the floor instead. “What can I say? I’ll always want all of you”

“I know” are the words you choose to say after a beat of silence. Instead of further acknowledging his feelings you bring a hand to his stomach, rubbing small and gentle circles across his abdomen.

He lets out a sound that is both a sigh and a moan. You haven’t even touched his nipples and yet he seems to be turned on, his dick twitching. “I think I want you to fill me up even more now” he admits.

“If that’s what you want” you graze your finger over his nipple while planting a kiss on his shoulder. His breathing becomes ragged as you tease his skin between your teeth. You play with his chest for a bit longer before asking him where he keeps his lube.

Che'nya lays on his side, massaging his stomach as he waits for you. Despite his flushed face, his tail still moves with eager anticipation as you settle in your place behind him. He's quieter than usual, only making a soft pleased sound as you push your fingers into him.

“More” he begs, and you oblige, finally lining your cock up with his entrance.

“Let me know if you need me to stop” you remind him before pushing your tip in. You slowly bottom out waiting until he gasps for you to move to continue with your thrusts.

“Fuck…you feel so hot and tight around me, kitty” You snap your hips into him a bit harder. “It feels so good”

“Ah- “ Che’nya grips his bedsheets tighter, and you hear a gurgling sound come from his stomach.

“Don’t stop” he whimpers feeling you hesitate. You place your hand on his stomach and feeling it rumble beneath your touch, you fuck into him with new fervor.

“Aghh” he gasps and leans over off the bed just in time for a thin stream of vomit to make it mostly into the wastebin. With Che’nya’s walls squeezing tightly around you, you reach your climax with a couple more thrusts. He holds your hand that rests on his stomach and whines as he feels you fill him up.

Keeping yourself buried in him, you move your other hand to his cock to help him finish, which only takes a few strokes. You take in his dazed expression and faint smile, feeling an urge to kiss his sweat slicked skin. He whimpers at the feeling of your lips on his neck, his classic Cheshire grin appearing as you trail slow kisses up his jawline.

“Yup,” he sighs blissfully. “I would definitely do it again”

#now that i have this very indulgent fic out of my system i can work on those drabbles #che'nya x reader #cw emetophobia #emeto #cw sickness #stuffing #twst smut #twst x male reader #twst ☆ che'nya !

128 notes · View notes

gakusbearemoji · 2 months

Text

Dive into You

wrng: cringe! fluff, idc I put my soul into it so it’s good , reader is turning 20

You have always been a little bit spoiled. Your father paid your tuition, being a coach at your school, your mother still did your meal planning and cooked for you while paying for groceries. You just had to attend classes and at least graduate. Not too hard, right? Sadly, there were a few more terms than that. Your mother didn’t care what you did, but your father cared very much. So much so, that he scares off every guy who has ever tried to date you. Because of this, you have been single your whole life. Since you were turning twenty in a month, you wanted things to change before your age did.

You were going to get a boyfriend. You had about twenty days to do so. Seems hard, but putting your best foot forward you worked to change. You started caring about your style, wearing clothes that match aesthetically and having moisturized skin. You even noticed in yourself that it had made a difference. You liked this version of yourself better, so you kept onto the routine.

And it seemed to have worked, because when you walked into the library, a boy with frizzy, dark brown hair stopped you. “Uhm, excuse me ma’am? Could you help me with something?” He spoke softly, almost entrancing you to listen deeper and make sure you knew what he was saying. “Yeah, what do you need help with?” You questioned, the boy staring at his feet. “I know you’re in my creative writing class, can you help me with our projects? I just don’t understand the prompt.”

You cracked the boy a soft smile, leading him to a table in the library. “Of course! Here, first let’s see which one you’ve picked.” The boy progressively opened up to you, smiling and laughing at your jokes. “If you just follow my specifics, you should easily get an A plus.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and you noticed how the tips of his ears turned red. “T-thank you. My name is, um, Anton.” He spoke, making you smile even wider. “My name is Y/N, it’s been very nice to meet you. If you ever need help again, just ask.”

You walked away, leaving the boy staring at where you were sitting before. He was missing you as quickly as he met you.

“Let’s go, hurry!” Your father shouted, blowing his whistle from around his neck. You had finished your work yesterday, so you decided to sit in during your father’s swim practice. “Have you boys ever heard of a stroke? Cause instead of doing one, you're about to give me one!” He screamed, everyone in the pool climbing out.

Your eyes went wide as you saw probably the best sight of your life. Anton climbed out of the pool, hair wet and clinging to his forehead, with tight swimming shorts on. “ANTON! Get over here.” Your father shouted, Anton dragging his body slowly towards him. “Yes, Coach?” He muttered, looking up through his soaked bangs. “Talk to me like a man! Look me in the eyes and promise me you’ll fix this before regionals.”

“I..I promise.” He spoke, your father rolling his eyes. “Like. A. Man.” You had enough of watching your father verbally abuse that sweet boy, so you went up to him. “Dad, leave him alone! He’s trying his best.” You held onto Anton’s arm, batting your eyelashes. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, Anton’s face burning once again. Coach narrowed his eyes at Anton, almost baring his teeth at him. “Ten backwards, Lee.” He shouted, You let go of Anton as he walked away. “Thank you.” He mouthed to you, making you smile in return.

“Y/n! Hey wait.” He shouted, making you turn around while you were walking to the canteen. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me out earlier. I- I mean, Coach did give me a lot of back talk about it but I was able to get him to leave me alone.” He smiled at you, making you giggle. “My dad is like that. You just have to have tough skin. Anyways, want to have lunch with me today?”

Anton followed you to your mat, sitting under a random oak tree to enjoy your meal your mother made for you as always. Anton was eating a bag of chips from a nearby vending machine, his legs crossed as he admired the scenery. “So, you seem to like swimming. Never took you as the type. I thought you’d be a bookworm.” You stared at the water fountain in the field, admiring its flow. “Yeah, I’ve always found it easy to swim. The water is kind of my safe space.” Anton stared into your eyes, admiring their glow and how it reminded him of a beam of sun hitting the water, the reflection as warm as your presence.

You turned to look at him, making him redirect his gaze to the roots of the tree. “I’ve got to admit, you're starting to grow on me, Anton. I think we should hang out more.” You suggested, making Anton smile widely.

He gave you that same wide smile as he entered your dorm, large as ever, though your roommate was home. “Hi, Sullyoon. Me and Anton are just going to be in my room, so we’ll be out of your hair.” You rushed into your bedroom, slamming your body on your bed. “Ugh, it’s so comfortable here. Do you want to watch a movie? Here, you pick.” You tossed the remote to Anton, crawling under your sheets. “Just, nothing cheesy.”

The movie ended, and you ended up with your face against his chest. Suddenly, he got up to take a phone call. You sat down, facing your floor and waving your feet. You heard shushed talking, “Yeah ... .no just give me time. I'm doing it right now, so be ready for it, ok?” Anton giggled, saying bye and hanging up the phone. He came back into the room, and your mind started to race.

Was this all a prank? Did he know you were desperate for love and was using you to prove a point? You started to get a sick feeling in your gut. “Uh, I think you should leave, Anton.” You whispered, still staring at your feet. “Oh, uhm, yeah. Of course, sorry if I overstayed my welcome or anything. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He awkwardly gathered his things, standing at your door awaiting an answer. But you didn’t say anything.

The next day, you completely avoided Anton. You didn’t let him walk you to class in the morning, you didn’t eat with him during lunch. Worst of all for him, you never showed up to his swim practice. Because of this, his performance was off. His times were leaps behind, and his dives were uncoordinated. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he could’ve possibly done.

His coach blew the whistle to insinuate practice was done, everyone leaving the pool. “Anton! What is up with you? You can’t fall behind this close to regionals.”

“I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll do ten.” He sadly mumbled, inhaling deeply before turning around to get back into the water. “Wait.” He turned back around, an evident frown on his face. “You don’t have to do anything extra. I understand. Just take a rest day, okay?” Anton smiled with his eyes, drifting to the locker room.

After Anton was finished changing, his coach called him into his office. “Yes, sir?” He whispered, sitting down into the chair. “I give you my blessing.” He spoke sternly. Anton sat there in silence, processing his words. “To date my daughter. But god forbid you try anything.” Anton sighed, looking into his coach's eyes. “Thank you sir.”

You were wrapped up in your sheets, messy hair and tears rolling down your face. You really had a magic ability of pushing everyone who cares about you away over the dumbest things. You wanted to call Anton, to say sorry. To tell him it was wrong to avoid him and you were worried over nothing. But you weren’t even sure he would answer.

Sullyoon knocked on your door, making you groan. “What is it?” “A boy is here? He says his name is Anton.” Your eyes blew wide, jumping out of your bed. You put a hoodie on, going to open the front door. Anton stood there, confidently staring into your eyes. “Y/n, I just need to say I’m sorry. Whatever I did to deserve this, I am so sorry. These are for you.” He handed you a bouquet of bellflowers, with a note attached.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, to you know, make up for my mistakes?” He suggested, smiling carefully. You pulled him by the collar into your apartment, pressing your soft lips against his warm ones. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

#riize #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize fluff #riize anton

72 notes · View notes

ambcass · 7 months

Text

Betrayed.

“I can’t stand him!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a fit while walking with her best friend, Jaime Reyes. Her anger made her walk faster, making Jaime chase after her. It all started when Jaime noticed Y/N distancing herself from him and he asked why, she said it was nothing and just to mind his own business. During their gym class, Jaime noticed how violet Y/N was when playing a dodgeball match but he couldn’t help to notice how her arm was bruised. He also wondered how she was able to throw and dodge a ball like that. That bruise made him realize that it was the same spot where he hit a specific villain last night. The thought of his best friend being a villain hurts him. He tried removing the thought but it just came back every time he tried to shake it off. After school and on his way home, he spotted Y/N and decided to walk up to her.

“I know you probably don’t wanna talk about your problems right now but ya’know I’m here for you…” Jaime suggested with a soft smile. Y/N turned to him with a dull expression and kept moving forward. Jaime once again followed up in front of her, “Can I at least walk with you? I do feel bad and I can’t stand to see you like this” Jaime pleaded, making Y/N give in. She nodded and the two started walking to the local 7-11 store. On their way, Y/N randomly blurted out “I can’t stand him!” and started marching towards the store angrily. Jaime followed up, hoping to hear more about this mystery guy. “Who? Who’s bothering you?” Jaime asked. Y/N scoffed as she opened the store door.

“You don’t know him…” She said, trying to keep her cool. She couldn’t expose herself to a guy who would most likely betray him to the heroes. “At least you can describe him. I’ll get a better idea of who the hell the guy is. If he is that much of a bother to you then I’ll make sure he gets it coming.” Y/N started chuckling, “And what the hell are you gonna do to this guy? But fine. He’s annoying, always on my ass, and doesn’t stop until he gets his way. Which annoys me because he went way too far yesterday.” Jaime stop to think too far? What does she mean too far? She was the one causing harm and trying to poison the water supply. Is it her? Please... Please… tell me that (villain name) isn’t you, Y/N. Jaime then felt Y/N nudge him. She mouthed you okay? and Jaime nodded. They went inside the store and went to the chip aisle. When reaching for a bag of Takis, the sides of their hands touched each other. The two retracted immediately and looked away embarrassed.

“So…What did he do that was too far?” Jaime asked, trying to change the subject. Y/N grabbed that bag of Takis and walked off to a different aisle. “He- uh… I-I can’t say. Sorry.” Y/N tried to explain but she knew that Jaime wouldn’t believe her. Jaime gave a sympathetic nod. When the two finished paying for their food, they said goodbye and left.

Y/N’s POV

It was very late at night. Almost 4 AM. I had to wait for the perfect time to cause any harm to anyone. Two nights ago, stupid Blue Beetle roundhouse kicked the shit out of me. I thought to myself when I find this bug, I swear I’m going to fucking smash and kill it. As I aggressively put on my suit, a shadowy reflection flew past my window and they left a sticky note on the outside of my window saying “Meet me on top of the xxx building. Rooftop –BB.” I rushed to my window, opened it, and snatched the sticky note. The writing was in all blue ink. I knew who this was. My heart started beating fast, I felt nauseous and anxious. How was he able to find where I live? Was one of the many questions racing in my mind. I crushed the paper and tossed it over my bed as I finished changing into my suit. I flew out the window and headed towards the address. As I was flying there, I tried to retract where I went wrong and how I blew my cover so easily. Nothing came to mind and while trying to come up with another explanation, I had already arrived. There was a figure lurking in the shadows, eyeing me down as I landed on the rooftop of the building.

“Come out, Beetle. I see you in the shadows. Hey, if you were a Shadow then you wouldn’t even make it out of Santa Prisca alive. Your dumb blue armor gives you away” I teased, crossing my arms as Blue Beetle slowly came into the light. I glared into his eyes and stepped closer. Pulling out (some type of weapon) out and pointing towards him. “How did you find me? How did you find where I live?” Blue Beetle didn’t answer but he simply just stepped forward. “Y/n…” Beetle murmured. Y/n? What the fuck? How did he know? I stood there in silence. He walked closer, closer, and closer, but I didn’t move a muscle. Now he was in front of me. I looked down at the rooftop floor while feeling Blue Beetle’s hand reach for my arm. I looked up at him and snarled.“Don’t touch me.” He immediately let go and sighed.

“Why Y/n? Why would you go through this path? You know better than this.” He said, trying to get an answer from me. I knew better than to answer. After all, anything I say can and will go against me. As I was still glaring into his eyes, his face armor started to retract back to his suit. I broke eye contact and turned my head away, refusing to lock eyes with him. No, no, no…not him. Not him! My head started to get foggy and blank. I felt nauseous and took a few steps back. I couldn’t believe that the boy that I cared for, my best friend, Jaime Reyes, is a fucking traitor and gave me that awful beating two nights ago. “Look Y/n, can we please talk about this? Please just hear me out.” I ignored his suggestion. Still not looking at him. I was angry, betrayed, and sad. Tears wanted to come out of my eyes but I held back. With a sour look on my face, I gazed into Jaime’s eyes and mouthed “I’m sorry” He looked at me with confusion. “I’m sorry? Sorry for what?” he asked, looking at me like a pathetic pleasing bitch. I shook my head repetitively and walked towards the edge of the rooftop. I leaped off of it, disappearing and never to be seen again.

Jaime’s POV:

I rushed after Y/N when I saw her leap off the edge of the rooftop but when I tried looking for her, she was nowhere to be seen. I attached my face armor back and flew back home. As I was flying back, I kept thinking to myself What does she mean when she said she’s sorry? What was she sorry for? Days went on and I haven’t seen Y/N attack since. Which is probably a good thing but she wasn’t at school either. It’s like she disappeared from the face of Earth. A few months went by and I still haven’t seen Y/N at all! I asked around at school such as Paco, Brenda, and the staff but they haven’t seen her. I talked to the principal but I didn’t get much from him. The only thing I got from him was that Y/N is no longer in their school system.

When I was dismissed from school, Brenda and Paco both offered to walk me home but I declined. Once I got home, I didn’t even think of patrolling for the night. I just wanted to rest. I can’t help the feeling but I miss Y/N.

I woke up to a crowd outside of my house screaming and yelling but I couldn’t hear anything. My mom rushed into my room screaming into my ear but I couldn’t understand what she was saying for I was still half asleep. She dragged my arm into the living room and turned my attention to the TV. The news reporter was saying something but for some reason, I couldn’t understand what it was that he was saying until I started reading the words that were displayed on the screen. My face froze, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Local High School Teenager Jaime Reyes Is the Superhero Blue Beetle.

a/n: AHHH THIS TOOK SO LONGGGGGGGG. IM SORRY MY GRAMAR IS SO DOOKIEEE :((

Word count: 1,483

Character Count: 7,572

literally ty @miguelnation bc idk if this is even angst or not

96 notes · View notes

hyuckbeam · 1 year

Text

try again

things don’t seem to be going the way you’ve been wanting them to go the entire week. to make things even worse than they already are, your boyfriend (or rather ex-boyfriend) dumped you in front of the entire campus. you can’t seem to lift yourself up and try again — well, that is until he comes into your life.

pairing | college barista!jeno x college student!reader

genre | fluff, angst, college au

warnings + notes | afab!reader, a bit of cursing, ex-bf being a red flag, mentions of alcohol, roomie!ningning, that’s p much it!

wc | 5.1k words

a/n | im super duper excited to finally release this chapter of the tttc series!! personally, i just like the overall flow of this one and i hope u do too!! let me know what u think abt it :> as always, rbs, likes, and feedback are appreciated!

song recs | all 4 nothing - lauv, the loneliest time - carly rae jepsen, tfw (that feeling when) - enhypen

tttc m.list, main m.list

the first time you met him was seriously by coincidence.

your stomach had you hurling for the past few days, not to mention how sore you were from phys-ed class yesterday. you still remember asking your coach to let you off the hook for the day, but they denied your request – oh well, they were never a great teacher anyways, you think to yourself. your own boyfriend hadn't even checked up on you once to ask if you were doing alright. it’s not like you were going to burden him or anything… you just wanted a little bit of reassurance to get you through the week. was that so much to ask for?

as if all odds were finally in your favor, a light buzz from your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. you pick it up to see your boyfriend’s caller id. maybe this was it. maybe the gods finally heard your pleas to make life just a teensy bit bearable for you.

“hey, i think we should meet up for a moment. do you have time?” is the first thing he’s told you all week and for some reason, instead of the comfort you were anticipating, all you felt was sheer annoyance. not even a simple how are you? the lack of emotion he’s displayed just breaks your heart even more than it already is.

you still manage to reply, mimicking his dry tone instinctively. “yeah, where?” it's faint, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little hope in you. maybe he wants to meet in person to give you a hug, maybe a kiss? you desperately want that to be true.

“at the campus open grounds, you know, the one near that coffee shop?” he suggests through the call and you once your head despite him not even being able to see you. “okay, i’ll see you then.”

you couldn’t even believe he just asked if you knew where the open grounds were located. doesn’t he remember that’s the place he asked you out? perhaps it was an important event only to you. the thought manages to send a dry chuckle out your throat — it already didn’t seem like your little meetup with him was going to be of any help to your mood.

not much time had passed by the time you arrived at the chosen spot, setting your sights on a nearby bench to rest your feet as you waited.

a lot of people crowded the grounds today. it wasn’t usually this jam-packed, but you suppose the bright and sunny weather encouraged people to roam around outside. after all, the sky hadn’t been this pretty shade of vibrant blue in a while. you’re thankful the weather is good — at least something seems to be turning out well today.

your boyfriend arrives, albeit later than expected, even though he was the one who asked you to come out in the first place. you had been scorched by the sun’s rays for over ten minutes now, wanting nothing more than to just head back indoors.

“sorry i uh… took a while. i’ll make this short.” he states awkwardly, a bit too much considering you were dating. “i’m breaking up with you. i just fell out of love, you know that feeling, right?” your relationship was never the best, this was inevitably going to happen someday, but hearing it out loud was what did it for you.

out loud… wait. you look around to find practically everyone around you whispering to themselves, watching the scene between you and your boyfriend unfold — eating it up like it's the plot of a famous drama.

the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, you just wanted to get away from it all. the hope you gained earlier was all an illusion. your days weren’t going to get any better as the week just became like the stuff that comes out of nightmares. you utterly felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. not only did you get dumped, you got dumped in front of so many people.

without saying another word to your boyfriend — or should you say ex-boyfriend — you grab your things and take a run towards the nearest alleyway that just happened to be the one at the back of the coffee shop.

you crouch down to the floor, curling up into yourself as best as you could before finally letting emotions overtake you, just enough to calm you down. surely no one would find you here if you let out a tear or two, right?

wrong. whoever put that idea to your brain was a big dumbass (whoever being you) because a boy emerges through the shop’s backdoor and into the alleyway, presumably taking out the trash since he’s holding a familiar-looking black plastic bag. however, he quickly stops in his tracks, noticing your presence when there was usually no one else there. the alley was pretty dark after all – it gave most people the creeps but here you were, willingly occupying a small portion of the horrid area while bawling your eyes out. “um… i don’t usually do this, but do you want a cup of hot chocolate?” the guy offers, rubbing his nape sheepishly after noticing your tear-stained cheeks.

you can’t help but silently thank him for not bringing up your appearance in the conversation. you probably looked like a disheveled tomato by now, prompting you to wipe your tears with your arm to at least make yourself look presentable. “actually… yeah, that would be nice.”

you got a better look at him now that you were seated in the cafe, the warm lighting easing your nerves little by little. as expected of him, there’s a welcoming aura that surrounds his figure, a calm smile that’s sure to brighten up anyone’s day (including yours), a tiny little mole below his eye, and the shiniest hair that made you want to touch it — that probably wasn’t the most appropriate thought you’ve had all day.

what you didn’t expect was that he’d actually give that cup of hot chocolate free of charge. you didn’t even know who he was (and probably vice versa). still, it made you gain back a little bit of hope that was lost. with a soft smile now spread across your lips, you begin to ponder that maybe today could still turn out to be better for you.

-0-

the rest of your day goes better than anticipated, and you’re beginning to think that barista you met at the coffee shop is some sort of miracle worker or a lucky charm. even if he wasn’t, you sure do feel lucky you ran into him – though the situation wasn’t exactly the most ideal in hindsight. still, the thought manages to keep your spirits high all the way until you reach back to your dorm.

“ning yizhuo!” your sudden call turns two heads in the room, one being the said person, and the other being her cousin, renjun. the latter often came by and you were quite used to his presence and practically saw him as a brother.

“oh no, not the government name!” a sarcastic tone laces your roommate’s voice. truthfully, she had already heard about your breakup and was expecting you to be bawling your eyes right about now… except… you weren’t. in fact, you had a beaming smile displayed for everyone to see. weird – renjun had probably thought the exact same thing as they gave each other identical looks.

this goes completely unnoticed by you, dropping your bags before making yourself comfortable by the couch. “seriously, you guys won’t believe what happened earlier.”

“... you got dumped?” renjun voices out slowly, almost as if he’s testing the waters still.

“no! i mean yes, but that’s not what i was going to talk about.”

“why aren’t we talking about that? your ex was a douche- i can finally talk shit about him!” ningning cheers.

renjun clears his throat, “more importantly though, are you really fine?”

his words linger in your head for a bit. were you really okay? genuinely speaking, you didn’t feel much – probably because you expected your relationship to fall out eventually. both of you wanted different things and came to realize that. there was an underlying feeling of gratitude that your ex finally cut through the cracks of your bond, but you could definitely do without all the public shame though. that might continue to haunt you, but what’s done, was done.

“mhm, i’m really fine. i’ll get over him sooner or later.” you answer softly. both renjun and ningning could tell you were certain, silently agreeing within themselves to drop the topic completely. “but gosh, i probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through the day if it weren’t for that barista guy in the coffee shop.

you see renjun’s ears visibly perk up at the mention of a barista there, like he already knew who you were referring to. “do you mean the guy who works there? y’know, the one who kind of looks like a fluffy white dog and has a mole under his eye?” god, was he spot on with the description too.

“that’s him!” you gasp out, still in slight shock. you suppose renjun frequents the shop – especially since that’s where he and his girlfriend go to study. “huang renjun, are you psychic?”

that seems to bring out a snort in him, “you just knew that now?” he remarks rather playfully, “actually, his name is jeno. we’ve been friends for a pretty long while now.”

ah, so his name is jeno. you wouldn’t tell anyone, but you mayhaps ingrained that piece of information straight to your heart.

the second time you met him, you just wanted to see him one more time after.

ever since you learned about his name from renjun, he seemed to pop up in almost every conversation you engaged with. was he always this popular or were you just really ignorant to the people around you? it’s crazy how much you’ve been thinking about him ever since.

“put a finger down if you’ve gotten butterflies from a stranger!” frankly, you’re startled at the command, forgetting that you were in the middle of a ‘never have i ever’ game with your group of friends. jeno just so happened to be there too since your friend groups actually aligned well within each other. with him personally being around, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything except him. it’s the nudge ningning aims at your shoulder that gets you placing a finger down, remembering you’re still part of the game. you suppose your brief interaction with jeno does count as part of this…

this small action had the entire group cooing. it was a bit overwhelming, not knowing what to do when so many eyes were set on you. wanting to brush it off, you simply give a shy smile to the crowd, persuading them to not go any further and just continue on with the game. luckily, that’s exactly what they do and you’re met with sweet relief – finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in the first place.

still, your gaze shifts back at jeno. had he realized you were the person that bawled their eyes out in the back alleyway of the coffee shop? had he realized you were the one he offered a free cup of hot chocolate to? had he realized you were staring at him like he held the entire universe in his hands?

but most importantly, had you realized he was looking back at you the same way? no? maybe that’s for the best.

the air was getting too stuffy in the room for your liking, you had to excuse yourself out for some fresh air. it was already pretty dark out and you weren’t sure when your friends would finally call it a night. frankly, the breeze was much colder now (and you kind of regret not bringing a jacket out), but at the same time it was calming and quiet – a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere held inside.

that serene silence was cut off by the faint sound of footsteps coming from the main door, jeno’s figure coming into view. what was he doing out here?

“hey… inside got too much, huh?” guess you and him share that opinion as you nod in agreement.

“a little?” your nose scrunches up at the thought. “i don’t usually mind it but it does get me swamped sometimes.”

a small hum is what comes out as a reply, the both of you opting for the comfortable silence the night bears. a few ruffling sounds are heard coming from jeno and before you could ask him what was making the noise, you felt warmth embrace you from behind. it was a jacket. not just any jacket, his jacket.

“sorry, did i startle you? it’s just, you looked cold.” truth be told, you were far from cold after his gesture. isn’t this something someone would do when they’re in a relationship? why was jeno doing this… with you?

it was then you unconsciously already had your mind made up. you weren’t going to acknowledge it yet, but you were completely over your ex.

-0-

there was absolutely no chance of you getting sleep that night, especially after the events beforehand. though you enjoyed every moment you spent with jeno, you kinda preferred having a full night’s worth of sleep right about now. it’s a good thing ningning was able to grace you with a cup of coffee as soon as you woke up — you don’t think you would have gotten out of bed otherwise.

“seriously, what’s up with you two!” ningning squints her eyes with suspicion glazed over them, trying to get some sort of answer regarding your situation with jeno.

“it’s not what you think it is.”

“then what is it?”

huh. she had a point there. just what is your relationship with lee jeno? it was a little foggy to yourself as well. the both of you never had much conversations, but when you did, they managed to send cupid arrows straight to your heart without fail. this was so much unlike your past relationship. when was the last time you ever felt this way?

“it’s just small conversations, that’s all it is.” you finally reply, words acting more like a reminder to yourself rather than an actual response to ningning’s query.

“is that really true?” your roommate frowns with a sigh, “you know, i noticed the way he looks at you. it’s different from others.”

“you’re probably mistaking his kindness for something else, ning. i doubt this’ll even lead to anything.” your statement is brief, but ningning manages to catch the light thread of hope in your words, understanding you wished it would lead to more. that’s all she needed to know. she knew better than to push you just to ease her own mind from the heapload of questions she has stored away.

“just know, whatever happens, i’ll always support you, okay?” she smiles brightly like the gentle rays of sunshine that slip through your dorm’s sill curtains. “okay.”

the third time you met him, you wished for nothing more but to remain in his company.

it’s just midday and you already feel like falling asleep. naturally, your feet bring you to the campus coffee shop, not registering the fact that jeno’s probably working his shift. in this moment, you were too sleep deprived to care.

“hi, can i get one chocolate chip frappucino-” you finally look up to see jeno’s familiar face right in front of you, recallings of the night before plaguing your thoughts and sending a surge of adrenaline in your body. suddenly, you were wide awake and could probably last the whole day with or without the coffee you were about to purchase.

“y/n, it’s nice to see you.” he greets softly, eyes scanning your features to find dark bags staining your usually lively eyes. “i think i’ll add another shot of espresso to your drink… you might need it.” he mutters out, more so to himself.

you can’t help but smile, finding his slight worry for your well-being to be endearing. “i’ll add that espresso shot then.” you chuckle, catching him off guard as he didn’t expect you to hear him.

“i’ll make sure to prepare your drink well.” he finally replies, punching in your order as you move to find a seat to occupy while you wait.

it doesn’t take long for jeno to approach your table, a drink with a swirly straw in hand. to your surprise, instead of simply dropping off the drink, he takes the seat in front of yours before setting it down. “i’m actually on my break right now but i wanted to talk to you. i hardly see you on campus after all. aside from when you visit here, that is.” it’s almost laughable at how predictable your response is to anything he does, feeling your stomach gain the now familiar fluttery sensation you always experience. when it comes to him, it seems to never get old, but none of that was the main point.

he wanted to talk to you. he went out of his way for you. he could be spending his break time elsewhere, but he’s here with you. perhaps you were overanalyzing his actions, yet you can’t stop the heat that creeps up your cheeks.

“sure, take a seat- i mean, you already did but-”

he chuckles, a slip of a smile coming into view. “your drink by the way.” he motions at the sweet drink you ordered. “i added more chocolate chips for you too.”

“spoiling me now, are we?”

“you caught me!”

talking to him just felt so natural. there was never a dull moment, and when silence would fill up the air, it was never thick and heavy, but light and freeing. you quietly sip your drink to these thoughts, occasionally wondering if this would be what it felt like if you two started dating- you’re thinking too ahead for someone who hasn’t even come to terms with their own feelings. you should just enjoy your time with him.

-0-

since then, you and jeno have grown closer to the point where you frequently talk on the phone at night. neither of your paths often crossed during the day, so these calls definitely made up for that – at least for you. through them, you’ve come to learn that jeno usually plays video games until the crack of dawn, sometimes even streaming his screen for you to watch. tonight, you decided to prepare ramen for yourself so you had something to eat while watching him.

“what flavor are you making today?” his voice is a lot huskier than it usually is during the night.

though this isn’t something new to you, there’s still that cozy feeling that almost feels domestic, and sometimes, you can’t help but squeal to yourself and kick your feet in the air. ningning even asked if you were alright because she thought you had gone crazy after hearing you from her own room.

“i think this one is cheese flavored? i’m not really sure since ning buys our groceries.”

“you should prepare me some when i come over next time. i wanna try some too.”

did he want to come over? your mind immediately fills with the idea of jeno visiting your dorm (or humble abode as ningning likes to call it). he’s seen glimpses of it as your background when you’d facetime each other, but what would he think about seeing it in person? there’s that famous saying that your home reflects your personality, after all. you don’t realize it, but you go dead silent, completely encapsulated by your imagination.

“hello? you’re still there, right?” he calls out for you, it’s much softer this time as if he’s checking up on you in case something happened.

“yeah, yeah i’m here. come over next time, then.”

he does, in fact, come over as soon as he got the chance to. honestly, he resembled an eager golden retriever exploring a new area the entire time you showed him around your dorm, having only seen it through a screen. on some occasions, he would point out a random trinket you had on display, saying it looked like you. he said the same about your potted succulent and you’re not sure how you feel about that one, but nonetheless, he seemed to be enjoying himself and that’s all that mattered. you were practically worried over nothing the other night.

“didn’t you say you were going to prepare me a little treat too?” jeno questions, finally finished with going around the dorm room.

“hm? oh, right the ramen-” you recall, immediately taking a few steps to the kitchen to prepare what you had promised him. “make yourself comfortable, i won’t take long!” it really doesn’t take much to make instant ramen, after all.

once it finishes boiling, you carefully transfer it to one of those gold-colored, aluminum pots to keep the ramen warm – making sure to add a few toppings to the dish to make it a bit more filling.

you make your way to the living room, seeing jeno on his phone by the couch. there’s that domestic feeling worming its way up on you again that has you wondering how it’d be like if jeno was your boyfriend. would he come visit over often? would you be able to visit his dorm sometime? the thought continues to remain on your mind for the entirety of jeno’s stay.

you really wanted this moment to become just as frequent as your nightly calls with him.

the most recent time you met up with him, you finally acted on what you’ve been holding in all this time.

ningning had invited you out to a party, luring you in by slipping that a certain someone was also going to be there. all jokes aside, you knew she also just wanted you to have fun, it’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a party anyways.

the event wasn’t anything fancy, your average college party hosted by one of the frats. you wore a black mini dress, one you bought but never got the chance to use until now. it fit you perfectly in all the right areas, but it took a lot of convincing from ningning’s part for you to actually buy it. you surely had to thank her now or else you wouldn’t have anything to wear for tonight.

“you’re finally wearing it!” it seems you weren’t the only one excited to see yourself wearing the dress as your roommate’s eyes sparkle at your outfit. “here, here. i’m letting you borrow these too since they match.” she hands over a pair of black earrings made with sequins and glass beads. it looked perfect for the look.

“thanks, it isn’t too much, right?”

“not at all! plus, it’s a party. who cares what others think- what’s important is that you look good!”

this makes you let out a small laugh, she was right. she always is. “okay then, let’s go?”

“lets!” ningning takes her purse from the coffee table before linking her free arm around yours. “we should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

it’s a good thing you both left when you did since the two of you arrived just on time. the party had already started a few minutes ago with some people already wasted (they probably drank before everything even started…). it doesn’t take long for you and ningning to manage through the sea of people, finally spotting a couple of familiar faces by the corner of the room.

“hey, you two made it!” renjun beams alongside his girlfriend, a plastic red cup in hand containing who knows what. “oh y/n, jeno’s by the kitchen. he was asking where you were before you arrived.”

“oh? thanks jun, i’ll go see what’s up.” you offer him a small smile before leaving ningning’s side and trying to find where the kitchen was located. after a bit of roaming around, you eventually find the boy you’re looking for.

cheeks flushed, dazed eyes, and a lopsided expression. jeno was probably no where clear from sober by the looks of it. guess you weren’t going to drink today, especially when your friend isn’t in the right state of mind.

“jeno? renjun said you were looking for me.” you call out to him softly in hopes he could hear you through the music that’s blasting on the speaker system.

by the sound of your voice, his head quickly turns in your direction. “y/n! i’ve bween looking por you everywhere!” he immediately wraps his arms around your figure, burying his head in the crook of your neck. your cheeks have flushed now too, not from alcohol, but because of the way he’s hugging you.

you never imagined jeno to be big on skinship while under the influence – well, you’ve never dealt with a tipsy jeno in general until now, so this was truly going to be one hell of an experience.

“have you, really?” you question him, patting his hair. “i’m here now though. did you need me for something?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder, “i wanted to kiss you but you were nooowhere to be found, and then renjun gave me a drink, and then haechan started laughing, and then i started laughing-”

he was beginning to ramble off and probably won’t remember any of the things he’s telling you right now. would that also include how he just confessed he wanted to kiss you? you know jeno’s just drunk, but there’s a part of you that hopes he wouldn’t forget that. you urge him to stand up straight for a moment before letting him lean onto you for support. the best you could do was probably have him sit outside for some fresh air (and maybe a cup of water).

-0-

the two of you are now seated silently next to one another with jeno’s head resting on your shoulder, and it’s reminiscent of the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. the night was just like this, and yet, so many things have happened already since then.

“hey, about what i said earlier…” oh, he sobers up rather quickly. “y’know, about the wanting to kiss you and all that.”

you turn to face him with a bittersweet expression, the nearby streetlamp placing a soft glow over your features and jeno wonders where that solemn look on your face is coming from. “hm? no it’s alright. i’m sure we all say things we don’t mean when we get drunk. it’s normal.”

“well no, because, i did mean it.”

“that’s okay- huh?”

“i like you, y/n.” although its dark, you know he’s staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“i… i do too, but we just met like a month ago.” you hadn’t even come to terms with your own feelings yet. “wouldn’t we be, i don’t know, going a little too fast? maybe both of us aren’t currently in the right mind.”

“that just proves my point even more. in a mere month of us getting to knowing each other, i’ve come to learn so much about you, grown so fond of you, and… i just want to be with you. trust me, i had a lot of time to think, but if you need more time. i’ll wait for you.”

now you were conflicted. did you really need more time to understand your own emotions?it’s not like you hid your affection for the boy, instead, it was quite the contrary. people started looking for you through jeno and others asked you about jeno’s whereabouts. its as if you two were now two peas in a pod, and everyone knew. were you going to break something you cherished just because you felt like your emotions hadn’t been sorted, when in reality, have been perfectly laid out right in front of you all along?

“no. no need.” your eyes crease as you smile at him, “i know what i want, and it’s you. it’s always been you.”

he doesn’t need any more validation than this, snaking his arm around your waist before pulling you close, lips barely touching. “can i kiss you?”

“please.” you surely don’t need to tell jeno twice, wasting no time as he quickly locks your lips with his own in such a way that you’d think he’s been pining over you longer than you had originally thought. you hadn’t drank a drop the entire night, but you felt so giddy just kissing him.

jeno pulls away first, and you already feel breathless from such a short kiss. slowly, he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing small, comforting circles onto your skin. “should we head back now?” honestly, you didn’t want to just yet, still unable to hide your smile from the lingering touch of his lips. still, you knew better than to stay out for too long.

“yeah, the others are probably wondering where we went.” and with that, he pulls himself off the ground, extending a hand out to help you get on your feet.

“let’s go back in… slowly, okay?” you giggle out, still wanting to cherish the moment with him.

“how could i say no to you?”

eventually, you do make it back into the party, quickly spotting your group of friends.

the sight of you both sporting puffy lips and rosy tinted cheeks, not to mention your lipstick smudged on the corner of jeno’s lips had everyone raising a brow. neither of you had noticed that because it was so dark out… um, oopsies?

ningning manages to connect all the dots together, a loud gasp erupting from her that startles the rest of the group. “OMG DON’T TELL ME! no wait actually please do confirm- PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE TOGETHER?”

you and jeno look at each other with a knowing look, feeling his hand reach out for yours before you happily reply, “yeah, we are.”

taglist | @haeravlgs, @matchahyuck, @vantxx95, @ahnneyong, @lixxbr0wnie, @legbouk, @rocarecs, @winwonies, @gfrdistance

— lmk through an ask if you’d like to be added!

tags !!

363 notes · View notes