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spacexcowgirl · 3 years

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I’d Lie - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N fell for her best friend, but she can’t let him, or anyone else, know that.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication, swearing, mentions of food, LOTS of pining and unrequited love, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: This is a song fic inspired by the wonderful unreleased song “I’d Lie” by Taylor Swift! mmmm this is my first fic without a *happy* ending and boy does that make me sad. But do not worry I quite literally already have a second part planned oops. Pictures are from Pinterest.

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I don’t think that passenger seat

Has ever looked looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Y/N distracted herself with her fingers, tangling and untangling them and cracking her knuckles. It was all she could do to stop herself from completely ogling the boy sitting beside her on the couch. He was positioned towards her, one leg bent at the knee and resting between them on the couch. His hands moved back and forth wildly as he spoke, recounting some story that had happened during quidditch practice that night.

“Are you even listening?” George cut himself off, his tone light. When Y/N snapped her head up to look at him, she found that he was smiling, but still he looked a bit offended.

“‘course I’m listening.” Y/N reassured quickly, her eyes finally meeting his. That was all it took, and suddenly she was being reeled into those chocolate brown eyes, drowning in their various shades and hues, with no way out.

Y/N wasn’t sure when her feelings for her best friend shifted from friendly to something more. It was as if one day his messy hair transformed from something to giggle and roll her eyes at to something to swoon over. When his pranks made her admire his genius rather than scold the disturbance they caused. When his incessant teasing shifted from mild annoyance to exuberant joy from receiving any attention from him. Of course, these shifts all happened slowly, over a period of time, but the realization of them hit Y/N all at once. She was head over heels for the boy, and she hadn’t even realized she had been falling.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d be convinced that someone was slipping her a love potion. Or, maybe, she just hoped that, because Godric would it be less embarrassing than the reality of things. Because the reality was, Y/N really had just fallen for George Weasley, no potions or gimmicks needed, and while she was irrevocably in love with him, he had no clue.

“Seems like you zoned out for a second,” George lightly nudged her with his elbow, although a glowing smile remained illuminated on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just…” Y/N racked her brain for an excuse, something believable, because she knew George could always see right through her. “Just classes, I guess. Umbridge. All of it. I guess I’m just stressed out.”

“So you’ve been letting me carry on about quidditch?” George sounded shocked, but his teasing smile was comforting. “Please, love, if you need something to take your mind off things, you should’ve just said so.”

Without Y/N even having to tell him what she needed, he was up and off the couch, rushing towards the boys’ dormitory steps. Y/N only had a moment to furrow her brows, before George was rushing back down them with a jumper in one hand and a bag of sugar quills, her favorite, in the other. Y/N exhaled a deep sigh, before the involuntary glow and warmth overtook her. Because no matter how much she longed to only view George as a friend, everything about him permeated her subconscious, lamenting and solidifying his place as more.

He’ll never fall in love he swears

As he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong

Y/N and George walked side by side down the corridor, laughter bubbling from both of their chests. Y/N adored moments like these, when she could forget everything for just a moment and just bask in the presence of her favorite person. Ultimately, they always were ruined by her feelings hitting her like a truck, or by someone coming to steal him away, so she always tried to live in those few peaceful moments for as long as she could.

George nudged her with his elbow after making a joke, and just as she was about to respond she noticed the change in his demeanor. He was no longer laughing, but instead a small smirk had appeared on his face as he nodded a few feet ahead of them. Y/N followed his gaze, her eyes landing upon his twin brother leaned casually against the wall. In front of him was Angelina, his girlfriend, rocking on her heels as she giggled at something he said.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” George prodded, shaking his head a bit as Fred swooped down to steal a kiss on her lips.

“I think they’re cute.” Y/N tugged her books into her chest, tilting her head to the side as she watched the love-stricken couple. Angelina could have a tough exterior, and Fred could be a lot to handle, but they just got each other so well. Y/N would never say it aloud, but she envied them.

“You would think so,” George scoffed lightly. “You don’t have to listen to him ramble on about her every bloody second of the day.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Y/N teased, turning her body away from the couple to face George instead.

“Hardly.” George rolled his eyes, shifting his books into one arm. He slowly raked his fingers through his newly cut hair as he spoke again, entrancing Y/N entirely. “Love’s just not in the cards for me right now. Someone’s gotta worry about products, and about making Umbridge’s day as awful as possible.”

Y/N laughed at his joke, although she felt a little sting in her heart. Sure, he had said ‘right now,’ and perhaps that should have incited some hope in her, but it didn’t. It just made her chest ache. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t just drop it. She had to push on, test her luck and hope that George would offer her any sort of solace.

“Come on, I think it would be nice.” Her voice was quiet, and she found she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. “Someone you could share everything with? Yanno, they could just be like… your person.”

George seemed to mull over her words for a moment, before swinging his arm around her shoulder and continuing to push down the corridor.

“Well, I already have you for that, right?” George beamed down at her. “Why would I need a girlfriend? You’re already my person.”

Y/N was certain her heartbreak could be heard throughout the school.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn’t a light go on?

Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long?

The party was in full swing, blinding lights and near deafening music. It was risky, what with Umbridge slinking around every corner, desperate to give students a detention, but they needed this. Something about this year felt different, and not in a good way, and Fred and George knew one of their infamous parties was just small way to lift spirits.

Y/N scanned the crowd of people, nursing sips of her firewhisky every few moments. Parties weren’t necessarily her thing, but she couldn’t deny that she needed to unwind. As her eyes finally fell upon their desired target, she couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled in her chest or the smile that involuntarily rose on her lips. Once George met her gaze, he shot her a wink and beckoned her over, and she was quick to oblige.

“Having fun, darling?” George rested his weight against her, clearly much more drunk than she was.

“A bit,” Y/N giggled. “Not as much as you, I reckon.”

“What’s that s’pose to mean?” George slurred, giving her a drunken pout.

“Nothing, nothing,” Y/N teased innocently, shifting her weight to better support the boy. She wrapped an arm around his back, using it to steady both him and her. “Maybe you should lay off the drinking for now though, what d’ya think?”

“Fineeeee.” George elongated the last vowel before grinning down at the girl. “Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

Y/N hummed in response, a small smile of her own growing as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “What would you do without me?”

“Hm. Probably die. Fred’s doing, no doubt.” He leaned down to rest his head against the top of hers, shutting his eyes for a moment as he centered himself. “Honestly though, I’m really thankful for you. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Drunk George was always a bit sappy, but Y/N certainly wouldn’t complain. His words felt like a shock flowing through her nervous system, hitting every neuron and sparking her to life. Alternatively, she also felt completely useless in producing a response.

“Godric, I really do have the best friend in the world.” He hummed.

And just like that, the shock was sucked from her body and she was left feeling nothing but empty.

He sees everything black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine

Y/N had searched for George for hours. After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, what should have been a wonderful celebration quickly went south. Y/N had watched from the stands as three team members held Fred back and Harry loosely clung to George, as both boys attempted to charge Draco. Of course, she couldn’t hear whatever he said that got the two so worked up, but from the look on George’s face she was certain it must have been bad. Everything seemed to move in slow motion once she saw Harry let go of George, and she watched with bated breath and wide eyes as he lunged at the Slytherin boy.

Of course, she had heard about the twins’ and Harry’s lifetime ban from Quidditch, and she knew George must be feeling awful now. So, she had to find him. Even if he didn’t want to see her, or anyone, she had to be there for him.

She had checked just about every spot in the castle she could think of, sighing profusely each time that she came up empty. Fred and George knew the hidden corridors and passageways of the school better than anyone, and she was certain he had used that to his advantage.

Just as she was about to give up, she decided to check one last spot that she knew of. She crept slowly up to the seventh floor, careful to make sure no one was following her. She paced back and forth three times, just as she had been taught, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door appeared. Quietly, she pushed it open, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of the familiar head of red hair. She had found him.

It didn’t appear he had heard her come in, and she used that to her advantage as she slowly surveyed the room. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces as she took in the familiar sight of the burrow living room and heard George’s quiet sobs from his place before the fire. After the day he had, all he wanted was the warmth of his home.

“Georgie?” Y/N whispered quietly, letting the door shut behind her.

Immediately, George straightened up and wiped at his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and she knew there was a reason for that. Fred and him both felt they had to be strong all the time, they had to be the ones cracking jokes and making people laugh even when it was hard for them. When he glanced back, his face was red and splotchy, but a forced smile was plastered on his face.

“Hey, darling.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it was clear it was taking all of his power to keep it together. Y/N could see that his lip was busted, illuminated by the fire, and she wanted nothing more than to cup his face in her hands and nurse him back to perfect health. “Reckon you saw the fight earlier?”

“Your lip…” Y/N spoke softly, approaching him with tentative steps. She didn’t have the capacity to answer his question, not when he looked so broken and beaten down.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” George swiped his thumb over his lip, and Y/N didn’t miss his slight wince. “You should see the other guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She finally reached him, taking her place beside him on the carpeted floor. “You don’t have to joke and pretend everything’s fine, not with me.”

George studied her for a moment before a shuddering breath left his lips. As the tears began to pool once more, he could no longer meet her eyes. And that killed her.

“I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much.” He spoke, sounding entirely disappointed in himself. “But, the things he said, about my mum, my family. And then Umbridge…” His words cut off as the tears began to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Y/N reached out and gently cupped his cheek, allowing her thumb to brush a few tears away. When he leaned into her touch, her heart soared. “You don’t have to shut yourself off, though. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.” His voice was soft as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away.

Slowly, Y/N leaned forward and brought her forehead to his, letting her eyes shut as well. Her hand drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently playing with the hairs at the base of it. The action seemed to calm him a bit, so she continued to do it. By the light and warmth of the fire, the two sat in silence. Neither needed to say anything, they just wanted to be near each other.

“I love you, you know that?” George was the first to break the silence, not bothering to open his eyes or pull away from her touch.

“I know.” Y/N spoke quietly. “And I love you too.”

And Godric, did she mean it. But she was aware that they meant it in entirely different ways, and that George had no idea.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say,

“I’m holding every breath for you.”

Months had passed since that night in the room of requirement, and while so much had changed, so much had stayed the same as well. Y/N had felt herself drifting from George everyday, and not because either of them wanted to. George and Fred were leaving, Y/N knew that, and they had to get everything in order to do so. So, Y/N had to push through everyday with him no longer constantly by her side, and she swore it was killing her.

A few nights prior, he had let her know that this was it, that him and Fred were really doing it. She had faked a smile, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck as she expressed how proud she was. And she was proud, but her chest ached and she swore she felt her stomach in her throat. It was selfish, sure, but she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get through the year without him.

Now she stood in the corridor outside of the great hall, bouncing nervously on her heels as she watched him say his goodbyes to Lee. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but there was already a stinging behind her eyes and she feared no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, it would be futile.

When George finally turned and took a few long strides to where she stood, her fears were confirmed. Her tears spilled involuntarily as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey, none of that,” George pleaded softly, gently scraping his fingers up and down her back. “You know I’ll write the second that I’m out of here, and it’s only a short bit before you graduate and I see you again.”

“I know, it’s just…” Y/N sniffled, forcing herself to imprint the moment in her brain. She wanted to remember his scent, and the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and the sound of his voice. Perhaps it was cheesy, or overdramatic, but Y/N could feel her heartbreaking by the second, and holding onto ever piece of him that she could was the only thing keeping her together. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” George chuckled softly. He pulled back slowly, planting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, I promise.”

“You’re right, I know.” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears before finally meeting the boy’s gaze. The look he was giving her made her knees weak, and she found herself wanting to spill all of the contents in her heart to him.

He studied her face for a moment longer, but then Fred was calling his name and they both knew it was time. He gave her shoulders a soft squeeze and pulled her into a hug one last time, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Nothing further needed to be said, so he gently ruffled up her hair and gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back towards Fred and beginning to walk away.

The moment was ending, he was really leaving, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. Her heartbeat started to pick up, and her palms began to feel sweaty, because it felt as though it were now or never. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.

“George!” She called out, causing him to halt and whirl back around.

“Yeah?” He smiled warmly at her, a few paces ahead.

As she gazed into his blissfully unaware chocolate brown eyes, she found that she just couldn’t. She couldn’t drop this on him, not on one of the most important days of his life. So, she bit down on her lip before shaking her head and forcing a smile.

“Give us a show, yeah?”

“Always do.” George winked.

And just like that, he walked away. And Y/N was left feeling entirely empty.

First thought when I wake up

Is “My God, he’s beautiful.”

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

Months had passed since the fateful day that the Weasley twins left Hogwarts behind. Just as Y/N had predicted, her time left at the school dragged on horribly. Umbridge only seemed to get worse, even in the twins’ absence, and George was no longer there to comfort her. Still, she pushed through.

After graduation, Y/N was quick to get a job at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, figuring she’d save up her money while she determined what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the worst job, but with the Wizarding World getting darker by the day, she felt constantly in fear. Still, George was close by, and she once again had him for comfort.

Most nights she’d crash on the twins’ couch, finding it easier to get up in the early mornings and go in to work than staying with her parents in the suburbs. Which usually meant waking up to George preparing breakfast, sleep thick in his voice and his hair still messy. And Godric, was he beautiful like that.

“Sleep well, darling?” George rasped out, a sleepy smile on his face. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as a small yawn left her lips.

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, leaning in the doorway of their kitchen. “You?”

“Pretty good.” George grinned, sliding a mug of tea down the counter towards her. Like always, he had made it perfectly to her liking. Y/N cupped the mug in her hands, letting the warmth slowly spread throughout her body and wake her up. “Think I might stop by the cafe on my break, pick up some pastries and coffee.” Just as he finished his sentence, Fred tiredly stumbled into the kitchen.

“You can just say you want to come see me, Georgie.” Y/N teased.

“It’s not just you he wants to see.” Fred winked at the girl, causing her brows to furrow.

“Oi, shut it, Fred.” George glared at his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you about his little crush?” Fred smirked, ignoring the daggers being shot his way. “Elizabeth, that girl that works with you. Georgie fancies her.”

Suddenly, even the mug in Y/N’s hand felt ice cold in her grasp. Quickly, she placed it back down on the counter, fearing she would drop it and let it shatter to the ground. A bit of hot tea sloshed out of the mug, scalding her hand and forcing her mind away from her breaking heart.

“Shit, are you okay?” George had already hurried towards her, but Y/N was quick to brush him off.

“‘m fine, I, uh, should just go get ready.”

Y/N didn’t give the boy’s time to question her change in demeanor, but rather quickly gathered her overnight bag and hurried to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She cast a silencing charm before slowly sliding down the wall, allowing herself to sob freely.

Just as she always knew, she’d never be what George wanted.

I could tell you his favorite color’s green

He loves to argue, oh, and it kills me

His sister’s beautiful, he has his father’s eyes,

And if you asked me if I love him

I’d lie

Y/N felt in a daze that entire day at work. She made drinks, rang customers up, and wiped down counters, but she was unable to think about anything other than the revelations of that morning. Of course, Elizabeth was the only other person working with her, and while she normally adored shifts with the girl, she couldn’t find it in herself to even crack a smile at her. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, of course, and she would never purposefully take it out on her, but Y/N just didn’t have the energy to try that day.

When lunch time rolled around and Y/N knew George would be arriving soon, she busied herself with meaningless tasks, intent on avoiding him and saving her heart any extra heartbreak, at least for the time being. She offered him a small smile when he entered, then ultimately let Elizabeth take his order.

As they chatted, Y/N noted the way he lit up with every giggle he pulled from her lips, and she swore she could hear her heart shattering. When he finally left, coffee and pastries in hand, he called out a quick goodbye to Y/N, but she only offered a small nod in return.

“Godric, he’s charming.” Elizabeth sighed, coming to lean beside Y/N. “You two are friends, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Y/N didn’t look up from the sugar packets she was organizing, watching as her hands shook slightly.

“Well, tell me about him!” Elizabeth urged, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Is he seeing anyone?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, finally forcing herself to look up after finishing her task. “What do you want to know?”

As much as it killed her, she knew what she had to do. George deserved to be happy, and she was his best friend, so she had to help him get there. George would never want her the way she wanted him, and maybe seeing him with someone else would help her get over that fact.

“Anything. Everything.” Elizabeth beamed, her perfect smile on full display.

“Well…” Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “He has a twin, Fred, and they run the joke shop that just opened down the way. He’s a middle child, sort of, I mean Fred is technically the middle child but that’s just because he was born a few minutes earlier. They’ve got three older brothers, then a younger brother and sister. His favorite colors green, but if you ask him he’ll say it’s orange because of his hair. Um, he was shit at potions, but I think that was just because he hated the professor, because really he’s a genius. Oh, and he’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, which I tell him all the time but cannot say in front of Fred. I don’t know, I guess he’s just about the best person I know, honestly.” Y/N sighed, finishing her rambling with a forced smile.

“Merlin,” Elizabeth stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you’re in love with him.”

“No, really I’m not. We’ve just been best friends forever.” Y/N laughed, the lie tumbling easily from her lips.

Because that’s what she had to do, that’s what she’d always done. To keep George in her life, to make things easier, she kept her feelings close to her heart. And no matter how much it killed her, she would continue doing it. If that’s what it took to see George happy, that’s what she’d do.

She’d lie.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15 @mischiefisbeingmanaged @gcdricreads @destourtereaux @thisismysketchbook @george-fabian-weasley @evermoreweasley @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @sunshineandshadowss

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley

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ahtsumu · 3 years

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the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!”

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.”

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.)

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

691 notes · View notes

rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

wait

(storm section inspired by @ambrosial-tea)

Prompts: Home and Memories

Word Count: 5,901 (hey i think i'm actually starting to get these back to a more reasonable number XD)

Characters: Lloyd and Garmadon

Timeline: Between episodes 13 (Day of the Great Devourer) and 18 (Child’s Play) with some flashback scenes

Trigger Warnings: Abandonment

Summary: Lloyd’s not so great at being patient. It’s not his fault though- maybe he would be better at it if waiting didn’t always end up being so disappointing- if people actually kept their promises. But this time’s going to be different, he knows it. His father will come back for him. And Lloyd’s going to wait.

As long as it takes.

Since I already got two bingos on the sparks board, I decided to switch it up and change to the warm board!

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

In the aftermath of the battle, Lloyd only had one thought on his mind.

Cheers and whoops from the citizens of Ninjago City- and the ninja themselves- rang through the air as the realization that the Great Devourer was dead hit them. Lloyd hardly noticed, though. Gripping the handrail at the edge of the building, he peered out over the city. He was around here somewhere. He had to be.

“We did it!” Kai cried, grabbing Lloyd’s hand and raising it high in the air. “We saved the city! The Great Devourer is dead!” We? Lloyd glared at him, although the fire ninja didn’t even seem to notice. My dad was the one who seemed to do all the saving.

“Ultra!” Cole cried as the dragon landed on the street near the foot of the building. Racing towards the fire escape, the ninja hurried down the stairs and over to the dragon. Cole threw his arms around Rocky’s snout, the others not far behind. “You’re safe, bud!”

As the ninja and Nya laughed and caressed the dragon, Lloyd hung back, feeling lost. This wasn’t right. They couldn’t go on celebrating when someone was still missing.

“Where’s my dad?” he burst out, his voice sounding a lot shakier than what he had hoped for. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

The others exchanged glances. Lloyd hated the way they looked at each other, trying to decide what to tell him, because he obviously wasn’t good enough to know what they were really thinking.

Nya walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and bending over slightly to put herself more at his level. Her eyes sparkled with regret. “Lloyd-”

“Sensei Wu?”

Jaws dropped at Cole’s exclamation, and they jerked their gazes towards where he was pointing. Sure enough, Uncle Wu was sitting in the middle of the street, in a pile of green Devourer goo, looking lost as he pushed himself to his feet. Lloyd closed his eyes, letting his breath out slowly. So at least one of his mistakes had been fixed.

“He’s alive?” Jay gaped. “He’s alive!”

Kai grabbed Lloyd by the wrist, half-dragging him over towards their sensei as the ninja tackled him into a hug. Lloyd reached out to put a hand on his uncle’s back, but paused. He had no place here. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ninja, but… I was never supposed to be part of this. I’m only here because my uncle is their sensei, because I’m their beloved green ninja.

Wu pulled back from his students, grinning- only for his smile to falter as his dark eyes met Lloyd’s red ones. He tilted his head in that odd, knowing way of his. Lloyd wanted to break the contact, but couldn’t.

“Your father is gone, isn’t he.” Not a question, but a statement.

Lloyd let his gaze drop to the ground, remaining silent. His uncle reached a hand out for his shoulder but stopped short when Lloyd flinched away.

“Yeah, and with him, our golden weapons,” Kai growled. Nya elbowed him, hard, and he yelped, rubbing his side and scowling at her.

“Weapons or not, we will see him again,” Wu told him, “of that I am certain.”

“Yeah, only because your dumb prophecy says so.”

Wu flinched. “Lloyd-”

“Do I really have to fight my father someday, Uncle Wu?”

He sighed. “One day, nephew, that time will come. But I can hope that it is not for many, many years to come, when you are much older and stronger and wiser. Until then, we must not linger on the future. You ninja have done well today. You should be proud of yourselves, celebrate your victory for a little while.”

“Don’t worry, bigshot.” Kai ruffled his hair. “You’re the chosen one. And we’re the best teachers there are! You’ll be more than ready by the time the final battle rolls around.”

Lloyd clenched his teeth. Why couldn’t any of them see? He didn’t want to fight his father. He couldn’t. His father had come back for him when the Serpentine had trapped him, even when everyone else had lost hope. His father had been the one to comfort him about their futures, the one to protect him, the one to fix his mistakes with the Serpentine. So what if he had taken the golden weapons? If it weren’t for him, they’d all be inside the stomach of a giant snake right now. Were the ninja really so quick to forget that?

They didn’t know him like Lloyd did. Even his uncle had never seen the side of him Lloyd had seen. His father was a good man who had made bad choices. Couldn’t the same be said for Lloyd? If he had changed, why couldn’t his father?

Don’t worry, dad, he vowed silently. I won’t fight you. I’ll find a way to fix this. To make this right.

You see if I don’t.

---

Lightning illuminated the small room, dazzling Garmadon’s tired face as he carried the blanket over to the couch. Sitting down, he gazed out the window, the pattering sound of rain against the glass both comforting and incredibly lonely at the same time.

He sighed, turning towards the hallway. “I know you’re there, Lloyd.”

A small boy slipped into view, a stuffed dragon hugged tightly against his chest and his wispy, whitish-blond hair a mess as he blinked shyly up at him. “I’m scared of the storm, Daddy.”

Garmadon shook his head, scooting over on the couch and patting the space beside him. Lloyd needed no further encouragement, running up to him and hauling himself up to sit beside him. Lloyd burrowed himself against Garmadon’s side, and he made sure to pull the edge of his blanket a little tighter around his son.

Thunder rumbled loudly, and Lloyd whimpered, gripping tighter onto Garmadon. He waited a moment for the boy to relax before speaking.

“So. Mind telling me what it is you find so scary about storms?” Lloyd fidgeted. “They’re so loud! And the lightning- I don’t want it to get me, Daddy.”

Garmadon chuckled. “So you’re scared of a little noise and lights, eh? Somehow, I didn’t quite expect that from you.”

Lloyd yelped as another rumble echoed through the air, this one seeming to shake the house with its ferocity. Lloyd’s dragon slipped out of his grip and he quickly snatched it back up.

“It’s just a process of nature, son. There’s no need to fear it. We are safe here.”

Lloyd glanced up at him with wide eyes, and Garmadon sighed.

“It’s like a dragon, Lloyd. The storm is a big, restless dragon who’s bored and wants to play. The thunder is his roar, and the lightning is his fire breath.”

Lloyd’s eyes glowed, and he shuffled anxiously against Garmadon’s side. “Well, maybe it’s not that scary anymore…”

Garmadon huffed a laugh. “Dragons. That’s all it ever takes with you, isn’t it?”

Lloyd murmured something inaudible, nestling his head in Garmadon’s lap. They sat there together in the silence of the room, and long after Garmadon had thought his son had fallen asleep, he suddenly spoke.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you and Mommy fight?”

Garmadon breathed out slowly. “Lloyd, you know it’s not nice to listen to people when they don’t know you’re there.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, son. There are some things in this world that are more complicated than you will ever know.” Seeing the confused look on the boy’s face, he elaborated. “Sometimes, people say things they don’t mean. Sometimes, mommies and daddies need to take a little break from each other.”

“Is that why you’re sleeping on the couch?”

“I suppose so. But it’s only for one night, Lloyd. We’ll sort things out tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Garmadon gazed out the window again, running a hand through his thick hair. He tried not to think about the dark roots he had spotted there earlier, staining his deep chestnut hair the color of darkest night.

That was something no one needed to know about yet. The red eyes had already been hard enough on Misako, especially when their son had inherited them. He tried not to think about what that meant, either. The venom wasn’t hereditary, was it? Lloyd showed no signs of the snappishness he had felt as a youth. On the contrary, the child was pure of heart and bright of soul, one of the sweetest people he had ever met. Garmadon couldn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky.

“Did I do something to make you and Mommy fight?”

“What?” Garmadon started suddenly. “Heavens, child, no.” Taking Lloyd’s chin in his hand, he titled it towards him so that they were looking each other in the eye. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This is Daddy’s mistake, not yours. We both love you very much, you know that, right?”

Lloyd nodded, sniffling as he wrapped his arms tighter around him. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Garmadon rested a hand on his head. “Whatever you need, my son. I will always be here for you.”

---

“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, what were you thinking?” Kai ripped the sword off of his back, sending it to the ground with a clatter. “We told you to stay on the bus, and what did you do? Go after a bunch of pirates?”

“Yeah, kid.” Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

Lloyd glared at them. “I was only trying to help! You never let me do anything!” “Because you’re not ready!” Kai put his hands in his hair, yanking on it in frustration. “Augh, can’t you see? We’re only trying to protect you! What good is all this training if you don’t even make it to the final battle?”

“Lloyd,” Zane said more gently. “You need to take things one step at a time. One day, you will be ready to fight beside us. One day, but not today.”

Lloyd looked away, pushing down the bubbling anger inside of him. This didn’t matter. None of this mattered. If the ninja wanted to treat him like a baby, fine. It didn’t matter what they thought.

All he cared about was his father. He needed to impress him. Make him proud.

“Lloyd? Do you understand?”

“Yes, Zane,” he muttered, avoiding the nindroid’s gaze and instead choosing to kick at a rock. The ninja exchanged hesitant glances, but they didn’t press him further.

Nya sighed. “It’s been a long day. What do you say we get back to the Bounty, and-”

“Sorry! You snooze, you lose!”

The group whipped around towards the Bounty, where the thrusters were powering up as several Serpentine peered at them over the guardrails- as well as a familiar dark figure.

“Dad,” Lloyd breathed, lunging forward- only to be stopped by Nya’s strong arms. He squirmed against her, but she wouldn’t relent.

“Lord Garmadon!” Kai cried. “He stole our ship! I can’t believe he stole our ship!”

“Come on,” Jay groaned. “We just got it back! Can’t it go five minutes without being taken?”

“The Bounty belongs to us,” Cole warned. “We fought for it, fair and square. Give it back, Garmadon.”

The Dark Lord gave a dry laugh. “Like I’d give anything to you.”

Lord Garmadon’s head turned- freezing as he made eye contact with Lloyd. The same eerie red of his own eyes reflected back at him. He longed to say something, anything- but his mouth was dry and words refused to come. He hoped his father could tell what he was thinking, anyway.

Please don’t leave. Stay here. We can work something out. We’ll fix everything between us.

Please don’t leave me again.

For a moment, something that looked like doubt flashed in his father’s eyes, and Lloyd felt hope soar in his chest. My dad might actually- he could-

“You’re getting stronger, son,” Garmadon said, “but never strong enough to defeat me. Give up and turn back now, before it is too late.”

No. Lloyd felt himself fumble as the Bounty rose into the air and flew away, taking his father further and further from him. No, he couldn’t be leaving him again, this had been his one chance to get his father back, to earn his love, but Lloyd had blown it.

I’m sorry, dad. I wasn’t good enough. I let you down.

It won’t happen again. Next time, I’ll try harder.

Next time, I’ll make you proud.

---

Their apartment was quiet that night. As Kai and Nya washed dishes in the kitchen- it was their night for clean-up duty- the others crowded around the TV in their tiny living room, playing video games with the volume low. Their usual yelling was diminished to nothing more than hushed whispers.

Behind them, Lloyd was curled up on the couch, already out like a light even though it was only seven pm. The boy was undoubtedly exhausted from the fight with the pirates earlier in the day, Kai thought crossly.

It took him a moment to realize Nya was staring at Lloyd, too. “Kai,” she asked slowly, working her jaw. “Is Lloyd okay?”

“Why,” he asked quickly. “Is he hurt? Did something happen? Man, I told him not to-”

“No. I mean… do you think he’s been acting a little… odd, lately?”

Kai frowned, turning to look at the boy. His brow furrowed as he slept, the corners of his mouth twitching downward slightly. “I guess. He’s probably just tired from all the training. We’ve been working him pretty hard, as of late.”

“Yeah,” Nya nodded, although she didn’t look like the answer truly satisfied her.

If Kai was being honest, it didn’t feel right to him, either.

---

Misako stormed into the room, dropping Lloyd into his lap with a huff. “That’s it, he’s your problem now.”

Garmadon looked up at her questioningly. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened? He bit me again! So, get him to stop.”

“What makes you think I would be able to make him stop?”

“I don’t know, but the fangs come from your side of the family, so it’s your responsibility now.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, you’re a smart man, you’ll figure it out! I’m going to go make some tea. Good luck.”

Garmadon stared after her but was pulled out of his thoughts as something sharp chomped down on his hand. He glanced down at Lloyd. “Oh, mister. What are we going to do with you?”

---

When Garmadon returned home the next day, there was a plump green dragon plush stuffed beneath his arm. He handed it to Lloyd, who was sitting on the floor, playing with his wooden blocks as he sucked on his pacifier. “Here. Next time you feel the impulse to bite someone, bite this instead.”

Lloyd eyed the plush with interest, reaching out for it with grabby hands and clutching it around its middle, pulling it close. Spitting out his pacifier, he began to babble to the dragon, blocks forgotten. Garmadon picked up the pacifier, eyeing it closely and sighing as he caught sight of the puncture holes.

When he glanced at Lloyd, the boy was chomping down on the wing of the dragon. Garmadon rolled his eyes, crouching down next to him. “Hey, what is it with you and biting things you like? C’mon, bud.” He gently pried the wing out of his mouth. “You’re going to hurt him- uh, it- hey, don’t you think your little dragon friend needs a name?”

Lloyd stared thoughtfully at the stuffed animal. “Buhbuh.”

“No, no, no, he needs a noble, dragon-ly name! Like Blaze, or Windracer, or-”

“Buhbuh,” Lloyd said firmly.

“..Buffy?”

“Buhbuh.”

Garmadon sighed. “The fierce and mighty Buhbuh? That’s what you want?”

Lloyd cheered, hugging the plush tight. “Buhbuh!”

The name wasn’t the only thing that stuck. Over the following weeks, Lloyd fell in love with that dragon. Everywhere the toddler went, Buhbuh wasn’t far behind. In his playroom, in the crib, in the car, at meals, even in the bathroom. Misako had spent twenty minutes one night trying to wrestle the toy away from him before he took his bath.

It had solved the biting issue, at least, although Misako often muttered that he had just traded one problem out for another. He dismissed her worries, telling her that Lloyd would grow out of his dragon phase eventually.

Although, that certainly wasn’t happening anytime soon. As Lloyd got older, he only got more and more intrigued by the creatures. Suddenly, everything had to have dragons- his pajamas, the shows on TV, his pull-ups, and his many, many toys. While his biting habits faded, as soon as he learned to walk, he was tottering around the house, roaring and flapping his arms like wings. Even as his collection of dragon toys and figurines grew, however, Buhbuh was always his favorite.

Garmadon should’ve known better than to think the carefree times would last forever, though. Ever since Lloyd had been born, he had been so much happier- and he was certain that the presence of his son was slowing the spread of the venom. But it wasn’t gone. It was a curse that the damned snake had forced him to bear forever.

He wanted to put it off as long as possible, though. He was happier here than he had ever been in his life, and he didn’t want to lose all this.

He knew if anyone could help him, it was his brother. Wu understood how much he loved his wife and child. He knew how badly he wanted this. He would do whatever he could to help. His teas and meditations had always been helpful in the past, and he hoped this time wouldn’t be any different.

“Do you have everything, dear?” Misako asked, helping him slip on his coat.

He lifted the duffel bag in his hand. “All in here. I’m ready.”

A sharp tug on his pant leg distracted him. He glanced down to see Lloyd, sniffing miserably. “Daddy, why do you have to go?”

Garmadon crouched down next to him. “It’s only for a few days, pumpkin. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Why?”

Garmadon sighed. “Daddy’s been feeling…” he glanced at Misako, at a loss, but she only shrugged. “… A bit under the weather lately. I’m going to pay a visit to your Uncle Wu so he can help me with my… impulse control.”

Lloyd blinked at him, and Garmadon smirked, realizing that every word he had just said had gone straight over his son’s head. He ruffled his hair, standing again. “Don’t worry about it too much. You’ll be fine. Your mother will take good care of you.”

As he turned towards the door, he stopped at the sound of sniffling. Turning back to Lloyd, he wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “Hey. It’ll be alright, okay? Daddy will be back soon. You can even call me tonight.” Glancing around, he spotted Buhbuh sitting on the end table and grabbed him, pressing him into Lloyd’s arms. “Buhbuh will take care of you when I’m gone, okay?”

Lloyd hugged Buhbuh tighter. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Lloyd. Buhbuh is the best protector there is. And remember, I’m the one who bought him for you. Whenever you see him, you’ll know that I’ll always come back.”

---

“Lloyd, steady!” Jay cried. “We’re wobbling too much!”

Kai yelped, gripping onto Cole’s leg, where he was struggling to balance on Zane’s shoulder. On the nindriod’s other side was Jay, and on top of Cole, Sensei Wu balanced, unfazed. Below them all, Lloyd stood, trembling under all their weight.

“Uh, guys, are you sure this is a good idea-”

“Ahhh! Watch out, we’re going to fall!”

The ninja screamed as they fell to the ground, landing in a tangled pile of limbs. Lloyd quickly wriggled his way out from underneath them, and the others extracted themselves more slowly, groaning.

“You gotta find your balance, Lloyd,” Cole said, rubbing his shoulder where Kai had landed on it. “You have the strength to lift us, but you’re not focusing enough.”

“Well, maybe I’m trying!” Lloyd snapped. “I don’t see you down here lifting all that weight!”

Kai frowned. “Lloyd, Cole is only trying to help.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need help. You’re putting too much pressure on me! I could do way better on my own!”

Sensei Wu put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time for a break. Let’s get you a drink of water and rest for a bit, then we can try again.”

Lloyd begrudgingly shuffled after his uncle, grumbling under his breath. Kai watched him go with a furrowed brow.

“What’s got the kid acting so irritable lately?”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t know. But he’s starting to get on my nerves. It feels like he’s just being stubborn for the sake of it.”

Zane frowned. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe we are putting too much pressure on him. Supporting the weight of all of us is probably asking too much for a nine-year-old boy, green ninja or not.”

Cole shook his head. “This is the same kid who put a crack through Dareth’s floor. If he can do that, he can lift us. I know he can do it. But he just seems… distant.”

“We’ll keep an eye on it.” Kai waved his hand, turning back towards the training space. “But we don’t have time for his moodiness now. Lord Garmadon is out there somewhere, and he’s not going to wait around for us to sort out our issues.”

---

“Uh, come on boy, we gotta catch up with the ninja, I’m not gonna fall behind again- woah!”

Ultra let out a mighty roar, careening forward with a mighty flap of his wings and sending the reins shooting out of Lloyd’s hands. He only just managed to snag them before they hurtled over Ultra’s heads.

“Easy boy, easy! Look,” he sighed, letting a hand rest gently on the dragon’s off-white scales. “We’re never gonna win this race and save the dojo if you and me don’t learn to work together. Besides, I’m the green ninja. I’m meant to ride you, anyway. Imagine how impressed the others will be if we come back and I’m riding you like a pro! We can rub it in their faces what a natural I am with dragons, heh. What do you say?”

Flame’s head snorted, letting out a puff of smoke, which wasn’t the most reassuring answer.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Lloyd squinted, staring at the vehicles racing through the canyon below them. There was the familiar shape of the Ultra Sonic Raider, but above it-

The ship appeared to have undergone some design changes, but there was still no mistaking the vast, furling sails or the dragon figurehead. The Bounty was in the race.

His father was here.

Lloyd’s heart skipped a beat. His father was here- he could see the black figure now, helping some of the Serpentine to point a cannon at the Ultra Sonic Raider.

Ultra tensed beneath him, but Lloyd hesitated, holding the mighty dragon back.

His dad was trying to hurt his friends. Lloyd didn’t want to get in his father’s way, but…

He couldn’t let him do this.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, digging his hands into the reins. “Okay, Ultra. Let’s put a stop to this.”

Ultra roared, diving towards the Bounty so sharply that Lloyd had to grip onto the saddle for dear life to keep himself from flying off. “Get out of the way!” he yelled at his father. Garmadon lurched back from the cannon, eyes widening, but it was too late. Ultra was already slamming into the ship, sending both himself and the Bounty spiraling.

Snapping up the reins, Lloyd pulled back, steering Ultra up, narrowly avoiding crashing into the ground.

“Woooo! Nice going, Lloyd!”

Kai’s cry sent a flare of warmth through his chest, but it quickly dissipated as his gaze fell on his father, who was barking at the Serpentine as they hurried to get the ship going straight again. He had made the right choice- the only choice- but at his father’s expense.

A wave of panic suddenly hit him. He couldn’t mess this up. He had been given another chance to make his father proud of him, and he couldn’t let this one slip between his fingers.

“C’mon, Ultra, let’s show ‘em what we got!” With a jerk of the reins, the dragon was shooting through the air like a bullet. Lloyd steered him up, and Ultra did a graceful loop through the air, followed by a swift corkscrew.

Lloyd blinked, surprised at how easily his dragon was listening to him. Usually, Ultra was as stubborn as possible, but apparently he enjoyed putting on a show as much as Lloyd did.

“Quit fooling around, Lloyd!” Cole cried from the Raider. “We gotta win this race, and we need your help!”

Lloyd glanced back at the Bounty, but his father wasn’t even looking at him, just waving the Mega Weapon around as he yelled at the Serpentine. Lloyd sighed, guiding Ultra towards the guys. This obviously wasn’t working.

As the Raider sped over the rocky ground below them, it slowly shifted into a softer, lusher landscape- and then came the snow. Lloyd stuck his tongue out, letting a flake land on his tongue.

“Birchwood Forest!” Kai cried. “Oh, we’ll never get through all these trees to catch up!”

There was a roaring of an engine behind him, and Lloyd glanced back to see his father coming in the Bounty, not too far off. I still have a chance! I can still impress him!

“Let me find a shortcut,” he called to the ninja. “Ultra! Up, boy!”

Scanning the woods below, he quickly eyed out a path, then swooped down with Ultra, racing through the trees. “Follow me!”

The turns were sharp, and Lloyd barely avoided crashing into the trees on more than a couple of occasions. But he didn’t, Ultra’s movements swift and precise below him. Lloyd let out a whoop of exhilaration. He was finally getting the hang of this! Ultra was listening to him! Taming a dragon was no easy feat, his father would have to be proud of him now-

Suddenly, Ultra let out a pained cry, and before Lloyd could process anything, the dragon was being yanked backward and plummeting towards the ground. Lloyd screamed, clutching onto the saddle, and Ultra threw his wings around him, sheltering him as they hit the ground with an almighty crash.

---

Lloyd groaned, blinking stars from his eyes as something bumped against his cheek. When it finally came into focus, he saw Wisp’s head staring at him, grunting in concern.

“I- I’m fine, boy,” Lloyd huffed, grabbing at the dragon’s muzzle for support as he pushed himself to his feet. “What in Ninjago just happened? We were doing so well, now we’re going to lose the race!”

Ultra groaned, raising his left foot and shaking it, where chains clanked loudly.

“No, no, no-” Lloyd raced over, examining the cuff and finding long, curved bones secured tightly around Ultra’s ankle. “The Skulkin! They sabotaged us! Those scheming, no good boneheads!” Lloyd yanked desperately at the chains, trying to get them to budge. “Augh, now we’re never going to win the race, and my father will never-” Lloyd cried out as his hand scraped against the sharp edge of the bone. Immediately, Flame’s head was at his side, nosing him away from the cuff and whining softly as he gently licked Lloyd’s scratched hand.

“I… I just wanted to make him proud,” Lloyd sniffed, burying his face against Flame’s scales. The fire dragon felt comfortingly warm in the cold of the snowdrift.

Rocky’s head butted him softly, before carefully taking the edge of the cuff between his teeth and crunching down on it, shattering it into a dozen pieces. Lloyd sucked in his breath, giving Rocky’s muzzle a quick hug before clambering back onto Ultra’s back.

“If we hurry, we can still catch them now! C’mon, boy, we have a lot of ground to make up for!”

---

Lloyd didn’t win the race, but by the time the finish line came into view, he could see the ninja crowding around the golden winner’s cup, cheering. In front of them, Garmadon was yelling at the referee, insisting that he had won and that the ref had made a faulty call.

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat. His father was right here. Closer than he had been since the defeat of the Great Devourer. Part of Lloyd wanted to run up and hug him, but he knew he couldn’t. That wouldn’t last. He needed something more permanent.

His eyes strayed to the Bounty, resting a little way behind the Dark Lord. With his father out yelling at the ninja and the race staff and all the Serpentine left behind in the Glacier Barrens, the ship was empty.

If Lloyd took it back- his father wouldn’t be able to fly away again. He’d have to stay. They could talk, work things out. As soon as he could get his father to stop running and just listen, he knew he could get through to him.

Lloyd eyed his father warily, but Garmadon was too distracted to notice the giant dragon behind him, as were the ninja. Quietly, Lloyd instructed Ultra forward, and the dragon padded across the ground, climbing up onto the deck of the Bounty.

“That’s not even street legal!” Garmadon was yelling. “My ship was clearly-”

“Your ship?”

His father whipped around, and Lloyd froze as they stared at each other for a long moment.

Please. Please, please, please. Lloyd reached a hand out. “Dad-”

Police sirens sounded behind them, and suddenly two officers hopped out of the car. “Alright, Garmadon, you’re coming with us.”

“Wait!” Lloyd cried, slipping off of Ultra and landing on the ground mere feet from his father. “Dad, it doesn’t have to be like this. You can-”

A screeching of tires, and suddenly Skales was pulling up in his bus. “Look who needs who now!”

Garmadon scowled, turning to go. Lloyd’s brain screamed at him. This was his one chance to stop him. If he did nothing, who knew how long it would be until he got to see him again?

Lloyd lunged forward, grabbing Garmadon’s wrist. The man looked back in surprise. “What are you-”

“Dad. Please. Don’t go.”

Garmadon fell silent, staring at him for a moment. Time seemed to stand still.

Then Garmadon was yanking away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, son. We both know I can’t do that.” In two steps, he was aboard the Serpentine bus and speeding away.

No. Lloyd felt tears well in his eyes. There were others here, and Lloyd hadn’t cried in front of anyone in a long time, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. His father had been right here. He had touched him.

“Way to go, bud!” Kai whooped, running over to him, the other ninja close behind. “You got the Bounty back- hey, woah, what’s wrong?”

Lloyd quickly tried to cover his eyes, but Kai was already crouched down next to him, pulling his arms away and gently wiping at his tears with the sleeve of his gi.

Jay put a hand on his back. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Lloyd shook his head, sniffling. “I just… I thought… my father, I thought he would… I thought if I could make him proud, he would stop leaving…” Lloyd choked on a sob, burying his face in Kai’s gi. “Why does he keep leaving? Why does everyone leave? What did I do wrong?”

“Oh, bud,” Kai whispered, running hands through Lloyd’s hair gently. “This is what’s been upsetting you, hasn’t it?”

Lloyd whimpered miserably, and Kai hugged him tighter- his grip so firm, so protective, that it made Lloyd think maybe everything could be okay again, eventually.

“You look at me,” Kai demanded, tilting his chin up. “None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. All the people that left you were jerks who didn’t appreciate how amazing you were. They don’t deserve you. We don’t deserve you. But you’re our true family, Lloyd. We will never, ever do what they did.”

“You hear that?” Cole punched him lightly in the chest, his voice sounding suspiciously choked up. “You’re one of us, now, green bean. You can’t escape us, whether you like it or not.”

“Your father will never understand this, Lloyd.” Jay gestured at the group with his hands. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. You deserve a father who will be there for you, one whose love is not clouded by dreams of vengeance. But that’s how things are. So you’re stuck with us, instead.”

“I’m sorry he couldn’t be here, Lloyd,” Zane murmured. “But we are. And we love you. So if there’s ever something bothering you, talk to us about it. We want to do everything we can to make you feel wanted.”

Nya crouched down next to Kai. “You and me against the world, bud. Remember that? We’re not giving up on you. Ever. So your father can stuff it-”

Zane elbowed her, and she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Now’s not the best time for that. But you get my point. I’ll fight stupid destiny for you, Lloyd Garmadon. We all will.”

Lloyd’s eyes welled up again, but this time the tears were happy as he collapsed against them. Five pairs of arms hugged him back, warm and strong and safe.

His father had left again. But that wasn’t what was important right now. His true home was here, with the ninja.

And he had hope it always would be.

---

Garmadon gazed down at the bundle in his arms. His posture was stiff and unnatural, his rough hands as gentle as possible as they supported the weight.

This was easily the most precious thing he had ever carried.

Lloyd stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Every curve and inch of him was perfect- and he was his. Garmadon could see himself in the curve of his son’s nose or the outline of his jaw, Misako in the shape of his eyes or the hue of his skin.

He still couldn’t believe it.

It had taken Misako hours to convince him he wasn’t going to hurt Lloyd, and now, here he was, carrying his son for the first time.

His son. He loved the way that sounded.

Garmadon shifted his grip slightly, and suddenly Lloyd began to fuss. Garmadon glanced to Misako for help, but she simply shook her head, smiling.

At a loss, Garmadon cradled Lloyd closer to his chest. “Shh, shh, Lloyd, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

Lloyd stopped almost immediately at the sound of his voice, cooing in wonder as he reached a chubby little hand out. Garmadon bowed his head, closing his eyes and letting Lloyd trace his fingers gently across his face.

Garmadon felt the tension ease from his shoulders. This was a person. A living, breathing being, and he and Misako had created him.

Nothing in the world could’ve ever prepared him for the wonderful gift of fatherhood. This was one thing in his life he vowed not to mess up.

“You’re safe, little one,” he murmured. “I will always be here for you.”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago lloyd #ninjago garmadon #and... there goes my fluff streak #XD #im sorry for those of you who like garmadad because i keep running him into the ground don't i #i do like him i swear #it's just... the angst is too tempting #maybe i'll write something fluffy for him one day #i actually cried writing this one oops #thanks for reading!#reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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deerixiie · 3 years

Text

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x gn reader #iwaizumi oneshots #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gen!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshots #hq #hq writing #deerixiie #does anyone understand the 24 karat magic joke

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

Book Club

For the anon who requested : can you do a professor remus one?

Remus Lupin x Reader

After complaints from parents about their kiddies not learning anything, Professor Binns was finally (politely) forced into retirement. That meant for the first time in centuries there was an opening for a History of Magic professor. You jumped on the opportunity immediately, never expecting to actually get the job. You were young, relatively inexperienced, but you were a wiz at history of magic, you had always been, even in your time at Hogwarts not too long ago.

That’s why Dumbledore gave you the job. That and he was hoping that having someone young and relatable would inspire the students. And you hoped he was right, all you wanted to do was teach, from the time you were a young child. You sat nervously in your seat at the faculty table and looked around at all the young faces in front of you. You remembered being that young.

“I would like to introduce two new professors this year that we are very lucky to have. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts will be Remus Lupin,” There was some scattered applause as a man a few seats down from you stood up, waving slightly. He was a handsome man, definitely older than yourself, but his eyes were even older than that. He had light scars on his face that were illuminated in the candlelight. “And replacing Professor Binns this year will be the lovely Y/N Y/L/N,” You took your turn to stand, there was a wolf whistle from somewhere in the gaggle of students. You flushed slightly and Dumbledore hushed them, “She’s recently been in your shoes, so I hope you will all take her knowledge to heart. Now, enjoy the feast!”

You took your seat again, watching as the plates in front of you filled with delicious foods and your goblet filled itself to the brim with pumpkin juice. Merlin, you had missed Hogwarts.

The first week of classes flew by in a whirl. You felt like you were slightly out of your league and you were beginning to panic. The kids were not much younger than yourself, and you felt like they didn’t quite respect you yet, and you had no idea how to gain it. You didn’t want to hand out detentions, that wasn’t your style. You didn’t want them to hate you or fear you via punishment. You wanted them to like you and to understand you were there to help them.

One day between classes you were wandering the hallway, trying to clear your head when you heard a roar of laughter. You stopped, peaking into the cracked doorway. Professor Lupin was at the head of the class, and the students in front of him were laughing, grinning ear to ear.

“Okay okay!” He raised his hand and the laughter died down, “Next up, remember,” He flicked his wand and spoke, “Riddikulus!” The next student stepped up and Lupin opened the chest at the front of the room, and a Bogart popped out, taking on the form of a giant snake. You watched from the hallway, smiling to yourself.

“Remember, remember the spell! He called and the young girl looked at him worriedly before flourishing her wand and yelling out the spell. The snake morphed and changed and suddenly it was a giant clown, the students roared with laughter again. You remained watching, student after student went. They were learning, they were having fun. It was everything you wanted for your own class. Finally, a student stepped up, Harry Potter, you noticed. When his Bogart turned into a Dementor Lupin lept in front of him, and it changed into a full moon. You frowned. “Riddikulus,” He spoke, and suddenly it was gone, a balloon with the air let out from it. Everyone cackled but you continued to frown. Why would his biggest fear be the moon? “Alright, alright,” He announced, laughing, “That’s enough fun for today, I will see you all next class!” There were groans of protest from kids who didn’t go yet, but they all turned to shuffle out past you.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I didn’t see you there,” Lupin greeted you, gesturing for you to come into the classroom, you stepped forward.

“Sorry to impose, I heard laughter, I had to check it out,” You smiled politely at him, he smiled back.

“I hope we weren’t too loud, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Absolutely not.” You assured him, “And please, call me Y/N.” He nodded his head, shifting around slightly.

“Of course, Y/N. You’re welcome to call me Remus, if it pleases you.” He was so polite it was almost comical. You took a deep breath getting ready to ask the question on the tip of your tongue, but Remus spoke first.

“How are you finding teaching so far?” He asked and you shrugged slightly, smiling sheepishly.

“Alright, I actually wanted to ask you.. For advice.”

“Me? I’m sure there are much more qualified people to be giving out advice.”

“Maybe, but none of them are new to being a professor. And your students seem to love you so much already. I want to know how you did it. Maybe over a cup of tea? I don’t feel like my students are connecting to me yet.” You explained and he nodded knowingly.

“It’s a hard gig, especially so young.”

“I feel like they think I’m just babysitting them,” You both chuckled.

“How about Friday after lessons? My office, I can give you all the advice I have, even if it isn’t much.” You nodded and smiled.

“Sounds lovely,” You checked the watch on your arm and nodded towards the door, “I have to go, it was good to finally meet you properly, Remus.”

“You as well, Ms.- I mean, Y/N.” You laughed, offering him a small wave before turning to leave the classroom, looking forward to Friday.

Friday rolled around faster than you thought it would, and you were grateful. You felt like your students were warming up to you, but there was still a disconnect. You walked to Remus’s office and knocked. A moment later the door opened and the man stood in front of you smiling softly.

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Hello Remus, how was your week?” You asked, stepping into the office. It was nicely decorated, and the bookshelves were brimming with literature, so much so that there were several boxes around the room with even more books in them still.

“Sorry for the mess,” you waved him off.

“It’s lovely, have you read all of these?” You asked curiously as you followed the man to his desk, sitting in one of the plush seats on the opposite side while he settled behind it.

“Most of them yes, there are some I haven’t gotten around to yet,” He admitted. You smiled, watching him conjure a teapot and two mugs over. He poured you each a glass. “How do you take your tea?” He asked, and you smiled sitting back in the comfortable chair.

“Just some sugar please,” He added a few cubes of sugar before setting the mug in front of you. “Did you go to Hogwarts?”

“A few lifetimes ago, yes,” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink, you stirred yours with your spoon waiting for the sugar to dissolve.

“Oh come on, hardly.” You laughed, “Is it as odd for you as it is for me? To be here and not be a student?” Remus nodded his head.

“Yes, it’s odd. Being here, being in charge, not being...” He paused, and eyed you slightly, “Not being a troublemaker.” That made you laugh harder.

“You were a troublemaker?” You pressed and he shrugged before nodding, his eyes glistening slightly.

“A bit, well my mates were, but they dragged me into everything,”

“Brilliant,” You snickered.

“What about you? All I’ve heard from other professors is how brilliant you were.” You flushed slightly, glancing away.

“I’m not that brilliant, I only ever really excelled in history of magic. And that wasn’t hard considering most kids didn’t even want to be there. But I love it, I love to read. And I would love for my students to find it even half as interesting as I do.”

“So make it more interesting,” He prompted, and you sighed,

“It’s not like defense, I can’t very well let a Bogart loose in the classroom,” You teased and it was his turn to flush slightly.

“I’m sure you could think of something more appropriate to the subject, you seem rather resourceful.” You sipped on your tea and hid your smile behind the mug.

“I will try,” You assured, “I think it’s hard for them to respect me, they look at me and they see their siblings, or older kids they attended school with. They don’t think of me as a professor.” Remus put his mug down and looked at your thoughtfully.

“I’m sure they respect you more than you give them credit for.” You shrugged, “Dumbledore would not have given you this position if he didn’t think you were more than qualified, just remember that.” You smiled and nodded your head.

“Thank you, I think I needed to hear that,”

“Of course,” You made small talk as you drank your tea, and you eventually put the empty mug down with a content sigh.

“You know, we should start a book club.” The man across from you chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“A book club?”

“That was my polite way of asking to raid your little library you have yourself here,” You grinned and he chuckled again waving a hand towards the shelves.

“By all means, anytime you’d like you’re welcome to borrow. Or else they just collect more dust.” That was all the invitation you needed, Remus watched amused as you excitedly got out of your seat, going to the closest bookshelf, running your finger over the spines. You stopped randomly on one and pulled it off the shelf, looking at the title.

“One of my favorites,” Remus informed you, leaning back in his own chair as he watched you. “I highly recommend it.” You opened the book and read over the inside cover, smiling to yourself. Remus thought you had a wonderful smile, but he shook the thought from his head. You were way too young, too pretty for him. Besides, he had way too much baggage to be dating.

“I’ll take it then,” You decided, coming back to his desk, “Want to meet next friday for tea and we can talk about it?” You offered, unsure if you were overstepping.

“That sounds lovely,” You smiled and nodded your head, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

“Brilliant, I will see you around then, Remus.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” With that you left his office, going back to your own to start on a new lesson plan. Something fun.

This week went by better, things were getting easier. The students were engaged, and seemed to be enjoying your class more and more by the day, something you were elated about. They were asking questions, participating, and doing their assignments as instructed. In your free time you read the book you had borrowed from Remus, and he was right, it was a wonderful book. Written by a muggle about magic, and it was fun and interesting to see how they believed your world would be. Somethings were almost accurate but most of it was.. What was the word? Fantasy.

Friday arrived again, and at the end of classes you made your way to Remus’s office, excited to see the man and to talk about the book. When you got there, Professor Snape was leaving and you nodded politely at the man. You never cared for him while you were a student, and now that you were a teacher your feelings hadn’t changed much.

“Y/L/N.” He greeted in a draw before brushing past you, leaving the door ajar. You knocked on the doorframe, popping your head in.

“Remus?” You called, and he looked up from where he had been rubbing his face with his hands.

“Hello, Y/N, come on in,” You entered the office, shutting the door behind you.

“Cheating on me with Snape?” You teased and he flushed.

“W-What?”

“I’m just joking,” You assured, coming to sit in the lovely plush armchair. You would need to get yourself one of these.

“Oh no, I know, I am sorry. He just stopped in to ask a question.” You nodded your head, tucking you feet up under your legs as you sat.

“I don’t think he likes me,” You admitted, “Not even when I was a student,”

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Remus assured you chuckling, “Not even when we were students.” He gestured with his wand and the teapot came over to his desk landing between the two of you were two mugs already sat.

“You went to school with him?” You asked, surprised.

“Yes, I unfortunately did.” You snickered at that, watching Remus pour you each a cup of tea, before placing sugar in yours and handing it over. You thanked him and took it, holding it in your hands, letting it warm you up.

“How was that?”

“He was mostly the same, we, he and my friends, never got on.” He admitted, “But don’t let my petty squabbles influence you.” You smirked, taking a sip of tea.

“Don’t worry, they don’t. I’ve never been fond of the man.” Remus smirked in return, nodding his head.

“How did you like A Wizard of Earthsea?” He asked, and you produced the book from your robes, setting it on his desk.

“Oh I loved it,” You gushed, and he smiled. He wouldn’t tell you, but he truly enjoyed having someone around who enjoyed literature the way he did. You talked yourself through three mugs of tea about the book, conversation flowing nicely. When it got dark you finally checked your watch.

“Dinner is soon, we should go to the hall,” He checked his own watch, disappointed that your time together was over.

“Pick another book before we go, if you’d like.”

“I’d love to,” You grinned, taking the previous book and returning it to it’s spot on his shelf. You looked around before settling on another one, holding it up to him. “Good?”

“Ah, you’ve got brilliant taste,” He grinned and you returned the sentiment. Months passed like that, fall turned to winter, but the tea and talking about books with Remus every friday remained a constant in your life. You loved having something to look forward to every week, and it was nice to have a friend.

You were on your way to your weekly meeting when you were intercepted by Severous Snape a few corridors away from his office.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” He greeted and you smiled meekly at the man.

“Hello, Mr. Snape?” You greeted, unsure what you were supposed to call him. His face darkened slightly, you guessed that was wrong.

“May I offer you some advice,” It wasn’t a question, you nodded, shifting from foot to foot. “I wouldn’t go around spending all your time with Remus Lupin, not if you like your job.” You blinked a few times.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“There are many things you don’t know about that man, dangerous things.” He continued ominously. You scoffed, that cardigan wearing man? Dangerous? “You’re a bright girl, I’m sure you’ve worked out his... furry little problem.” You frowned. You hadn’t.

“I don’t think it’s your business to be sharing his business, do you sir?” Snape glared down at you, and you did your best to hold his gaze.

“Just execute... caution.” He finished and with a flourish he was gone down the corridor and you were left alone with your thoughts. You went directly to Remus’s office, not knocking before you entered, face still screwed up in a glare.

“Y/N,” He greeted, “What’s wrong?” His face fell slightly. You shrugged, coming to sit in your chair across from him.

“Just ran into Snape in the hall,” You admitted. Remus didn’t say anything, but you could see he was nervous, “He told me to be careful around you, that you were dangerous.”

“Y/N..”

“Said you had a furry little problem.” You continued, glancing up at the man, who was pale as a ghost.

“D-did he?”

“Your Bogart...” The pieces were all there, right in front of you, “You’re always ill, once a month...”

“Y/N...” He stood up, eyes widening, “Please,”

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered, meeting his eyes, and he immediately looked away from you. The question hung in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. You took your wand out, Remus still refusing to look at you, and you conjured the teapot over, pouring yourselves each a mug. “How do you take your tea?”

“What?” He spun around, like he was surprised you were even still there.

“Tea, Remus, how do you take it?” You placed a few sugar cubes in your own mug then looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, uhm, milk, no sugar.” You nodded, pouring a bit of milk into his mug before pushing it towards his chair.

“I can’t believe I’ve never read this before,” You continued, placing the book on his desk and Remus slowly returned to his seat, hesitantly taking the mug. “Lord of the Rings, you said there were more of them?” You prodded, and he took a small sip of his tea.

“Several,”

“Brilliant,” You smiled, tucking your feet up under your legs in your usual position.

“Listen, Y/N...”

“Remus,” You spoke firmly, “It’s alright,” He waved his hand.

“No no, it’s not alright, Snape is right... I am dangerous.” You looked him up and down before smirking.

“I think I could take you in a duel,” He frowned at you.

“I’m being serious,”

“You’re not dangerous Remus,” You argued.

“I am, and ... and you shouldn’t be around me,”

“Too bad.” You shrugged, stirring your tea and taking a sip, “I rather like being around you.” He flushed, running a hand through his hair.

“Snape is-”

“A git, I agree,” You took another sip, eyeing the man over your mug, daring him to argue with you, he chuckled.

“Well yes, but he has a point.”

“He’s an arse, Remus, a fear mongering arse, He had no right to tell me that,” Remus shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t feel like he deserved this- you being so blase about this all. You should be running from him, screaming to everyone who would listen that he was a monster. But here you were, drinking tea with him, and discussing books.

One the last day of school you went to your dear friend’s office, having heard the rumors by now. You knocked on the door before letting yourself in. The bookshelves were empty, and nothing but one last box sat on his desk. You frowned.

“So it’s true,”

“Parents don’t exactly want their kids being taught by a monster, Y/N.” You frowned deeper.

“You’re not a monster, Remus, you’re a good man with a rotten condition.” He laughed bitterly. “You’re a good man Remus.” You repeated.

“Whatever you say, arguing with you is pointless,” He teased slightly and you smirked coming to him, putting your hands on the back of the armchair you had grown to love.

“It’s yours.”

“Sorry?”

“The chair,” You looked down, surprised. “Put it in your office, these are yours too,” He gestured to the box of books on his desk, “I think you’ll like them.” You gazed into the box before coming around the desk to throw your arms around the man in a hug.

“Promise me you’ll see me over the summer,”

“Y/N...”

“No excuses, take me out for tea, invite me over, talk to me about these lovely books of yours. We already agreed there is no point in arguing with me.” You chidded him. He hugged you back for a moment, letting himself breath you in before he pulled back.

“I will,” He assured you, and you nodded.

“Thank you Remus, for everything.”

“No thank you,” You smiled up at him before leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the man’s cheek.

“I expect an owl as soon as you’re home safely,”

“Yes ma’am,” You both chuckled, “and I will see you Friday, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Promise me,” You demanded and he held out a pinky finger, which you took with your own.

“Promise.”

#Harry Potter #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #lupin #lupin x reader #lupin x you #professor lupin x reader

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1-800-seo · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Lee Taeyong X Gender Neutral Reader

Song: The Louvre - Lorde (lyrics mentioned)

Genre: Fluff/Artist!You + Poet!Taeyong

Warnings: suspicions of cheating, alcohol consumption, slightly tipsy-ness, some kissing, implied sexual content but not explicit.

Word Count: 4000 approx.

Summary: As wandering, travelling college students on a gap year, meeting each other in the Louvre was purely coincidental, and usually summer flings weren’t your thing, but Taeyong was different. And like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

The floorboards creak as the tour group shuffles down the hallways of the Louvre, passing many other tourists. The tour group leader stops at another painting and begins his explanation of the painting you see in front of you; well, you would be able to see it if you weren’t at the back of the group. Craning your neck to see, you stand on your tiptoes, before realising it is all in vain. Forgetting the other artwork, you swivel to see another painting on the wall adjacent to it and peer upon it instead. A young icy blond haired man stands beside you, examining the artwork too. He wears a baggy striped t-shirt that shows his delicate collarbones, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, a necklace gently hanging around his neck. He looks positively comfy, but effortlessly chic; you can’t help but stare at his chiselled jawline either. The man looks as if he was carved out of marble, angular lines with delicate features, he was stunningly beautiful. And suddenly, you realise you’ve been staring way too long when he turns his head and catches you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, but you sense no malice in his voice as a warm smile creeps up his face. Looking at the ground, the painting, anywhere, you apologise; “Ah, I’m sorry… uhm I like your outfit.” You reply gingerly, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. “Thank you! It’s new.” He sits down on a near bench, eyes trained on the painting ahead. “As great as this painting is, I cannot stand scenes of suffering - I really struggle to find the beauty in them.” He blurts out after a moment. “Why’s that?” You curiously reply. You’ve always liked paintings from the romanticism era, the painting in question being ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Theodore Gericault. “For instance, this painting shows their suffering, and just that itself is not nice to see, but the colour palette is so murky to me. What do I know though, I’m no artist.” You understand what he means, as an art major, you had to analyse this piece one semester. “I get where you are coming from, the aging of the paints makes it appear murkier than the artist intended, and I think that adds to the whole ‘suffering’ aspect.” As you end your sentence, you turn your head and realise the tour group has moved on. You pat him on the shoulder and point in the direction of the crowd. He swears under his breath before standing up and leading the way back with the group. What a beautiful stranger.

Once the tour group has ended, you vacate the Louvre, more sightseeing to do. After a busy day of staring up at the Arc De Triomphe and climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower, you end up walking by the Louvre again since you previously spotted a cute cafe you wanted to try out. Now dusk, the water display is illuminated, bathed in light and bubbling. You see a familiar figure sat on the wall beside it, looking slightly lost and reading from a notebook. Unsure whether to help, you continue walking on to the cafe, this would only take a minute or two. Once done, with two coffees in hand, you walk back to the Louvre and the figure still sitting on the wall.

“Are you ok? You seem a bit lost?” You gently ask, testing the waters. The man from the gallery looks back up to you, big expressive eyes staring back, and you sense a hint of worry in them. “Hi, yeah, I’m a bit lost. My phone died and I can’t find my way back to my hotel.” He says, forlorn. “Well, I bought you a coffee, if you’d like it, and I don’t mind helping! I can maybe help with directions.” You hand the coffee towards him, and he takes it from you, eyes lighting up as he does. “Aww thank you! That would mean a lot to me, and thank you for the coffee.” You sit down on the wall next to him as you pull up Google maps on your phone. “It’s no problem. Where are you staying? I’ll put it into maps and have a look.” “I’m staying at the mur de coquelicots hotel.” “Oh no way! I’m staying there too! I know exactly where it is, we can walk back together.” “That sounds great.” He replies with a smile, eyes shining.

The pair of you walk through the city as the sun sets and the moon begins to shine. Conversation flows easily, and you find yourself totally enamoured with this stranger. He’s bubbly and friendly, charismatic and charming, simultaneously shy and chatty. It’s hard not to stare as he speaks to you, it’s an added bonus that he’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, the walk is over quicker than you’d like and you two enter through the lobby of the cheap but nice enough hotel. You make your way into the elevator with him, and press your floor. “Well it was nice meeting you. I just realised I don’t even know your name.” You giggle. “I’m Y/N.” “Thank you for your help Y/N, I’m Taeyong by the way.” “You’re welcome, goodnight Taeyong.” You bid your farewell and exit the lift, the doors opening as you finish your sentence.

As you reach the door to your room, you fiddle with the key card, excitement bubbling up inside of you. What a lovely guy. You flop down on the comfy hotel bed once you’re inside of the room. Spending all summer in Paris was becoming more and more like a dream come true.

The sun shines through the translucent curtains as you gather your things into your tote bag and get ready to leave the hotel room for breakfast. You wander over to the quaint bakery across the road from the hotel, and spot a familiar figure sitting in the outdoor seating with a newspaper. The blonde haired man sports a beret, and looks positively relaxed as he munches away on a croissant. You pick out a pastry, before walking over. “Is this seat taken?” You ask, and pull out the chair to sit down. “No, feel free to sit.” He replies with a smile. You sit opposite to him and shift in your seat to get comfortable. “What a lovely morning, right?” His smile beams as he looks your way. “Definitely! I love the warm weather.” You say, “it’ll be perfect to paint in.” “Oh so, you’re a painter? That’s cool, Paris is perfect for inspiration. It’s certainly aiding me.” “Yeah, I’m a painter, I’m here as an international student on study leave. What do you do?” “I’m an English literature major, specialising in poetry, so I’m here finding inspiration for poems of my own.” “Well, you’re certainly at the right place. Speaking of inspiration, I’m going to visit the Palace of Versailles today if you’d like to come with me and are not busy. I thought since you’re alone here, you might want to?” You ask, rubbing your hands over your arms, a slight shiver of nervousness at your sudden offer. “That sounds amazing! Thank you for the invite. What time are you thinking of leaving?” His eyes light up at your offer and your nervousness is put at bay. “Around 12pm, and you’re very welcome.” You reply. “Sounds good, I’ll meet you here at 12pm then?” He responds chirpily. “Sounds good to me.”

Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall.) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind

(But what about love?)

Nothing wrong with it

Supernatural

Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting

This wasn’t something you usually did. Asked our strangers or chose to spend time with ones you are not familiar with. But it was almost a supernatural attraction. He was not your usual type at all, but something strong and lulling was moving over you. Something indescribable, beyond enchanting.

Walking around the luscious gardens of the Palace of Versailles was just a sight to behold. The beauty that is held within was stunning. It was as you strolled around it that Taeyong took your hand in his; so casually that you didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it hit you and your heart fluttered. You smiled wide as he looked at you with tender eyes. It’s not wrong to move this fast right? Nothing wrong with a summer fling.

Nothing wrong with it, supernatural.

As the two of you walk around, conversation flows freely. You speak of previous art pieces and he talks about writing, he tells you about how long he’s been in Paris and so many other things. Before you know it, you two find yourselves under a grand stone archway, and conversation trails off delicately. “You’re so beautiful, I love the way the sunlight hits you. I think you’d make a beautiful painting yourself.” He says unexpectedly. A bubble rises through your chest, and you know what you want to do. You lean forward, placing your hands gently either side of his head and you kiss him. His soft lips meet yours and you are drinking each other in. The kiss is brief but heavenly all the same. As you pull away you notice a light blush over his cheeks and a dorky grin on his face. You feel the same grin on yours.

After a lovely day together walking around the palace’s gardens and opulent rooms, you decide to head back and get some food together. Being students and not having a ton of money, you both decide to get food from a local convenience store and to eat it on the hotel room balcony. “What do you fancy eating?” He asks, his hand still grasped around yours as you peruse the items in the shop. “I think I fancy some quiche, what are you thinking?” “I think I’ll get some cheese and crackers.” He adds, checking out the foreign cheeses. Once the pair of you have your haul, you head back up to the hotel room, and lay out your spread on the balcony table. The sun is setting gently in the distance and it illuminates the skies in gentle peaches and pinks. In his company, it just feels so comfortable, so cosy.

A rush at the beginning.

At the shop, you also purchase a bottle of wine, and the two of you share it together. Perhaps the cosy feeling is from that, you don’t know, but either way; you enjoy being in his company and don’t regret talking to the beautiful stranger in the Louvre. After some time, you’re both positively tipsy, not drunk, just giggly and happy. Taeyong starts dancing on the balcony, languid movements and sharp ones intertwined into a beautiful choreography. You’re not quite sure how he learnt to dance this way, he deserves to be on a stage. But for tonight, you were his audience.

Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough.

He flows freely, not unlike a puppet on a string, controlled by some unseen forces to move his body in ways you could never. “Where did you learn that dance?” You ask, intrigued to no end. “I’m freestyling, just making it up.” Of course, he’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and talented. “That’s crazy, you’re amazing.” You reply, and he blushes at your compliment. “One minute, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” He replies, and sets his phone down on the table. “See you in a sec.” Whilst he’s gone you sit and stare at the beautiful dusk sky that is out ahead. You’re aware that what you have with Taeyong is quite the whirlwind, but you really can’t find the space to care. There isn’t any damage being done, and you’re young so now’s the time to have fun and be carefree. You’re in Paris, maybe it’s called the City of Love for a reason?

As almost to interrupt your thinking, Taeyong’s phone buzzes on the table and the screen illuminates in front of you. You can’t help but see what the message says, it’s right there in front of you. The message is from “이 소연” and it reads: “Missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy Paris <3”

Is it possible he has a partner? Were you not the only one? It’s entirely possible that you were just a summer fling to him, and he actually has a partner back home.

I overthink your punctuation use. Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do. A rush at the beginning. I get caught up, just for a minute.

Were you just getting caught up with everything? Did you really just rush into things without even a second thought. Of course, you were being naive, you didn’t even ask if he was single before kissing him. And yes, he reciprocated but what did that mean? You were just the enabler.

Alas, you had to move on with the night, getting suspicious of him and acting weird wouldn’t help right now. So when he comes back onto the balcony, you continue the night as normal, pushing down your feelings. Perhaps it was his sister. You really cannot presume. Despite your logical side being sensible, your emotional side still fought a battle. Warring to be front and centre of your thoughts. You know you can’t let it get the better of you though. And so, you carry on with the night, albeit slightly stilted now; and you make an excuse to go to bed earlier than you normally would. You scuttle off to your hotel room across the hall and settle in for the night. Thoughts swirling around and around in your mind.

Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest, broadcast the boom, boom, boom.

The sun rises overhead, almost fully above the buildings as you nibble on your croissant quietly. The streets are starting to come to life as you watch from the local bakery with your morning coffee. Desperately, you try to put your mind at ease, try to push down the onslaught of intrusive thoughts; illogical as they come. After 20 minutes, you start to feel more at peace, you watch the dainty flowers sway in the morning breeze in their pot. You almost expect to feel worse when you see him. He approaches you, leather satchel hanging at his waist, and waves as he comes. Instead you don’t feel worse, you just feel oddly numb. Completely sensationless as you put on a smile in return to his wave. He sits down in the chair across from you, and places his satchel on the floor next to his chair.

“Good morning! How are you today? I hope you’re not hungover from the wine last night.” He says with a giggle. “I know I certainly am, but I’m trying to be positive.” He adds, and you notice his slightly ruffled bed head, must’ve been from a rough sleep. “Ahh, you certainly are doing a good job of being positive then,” you reply with a smile that reaches your eyes and crinkles them, “luckily, I don’t feel hungover. I’m just enjoying the morning slowly and as it comes.” Which is true, you decided you’d take today as it comes. “I’m glad you don’t feel too bad then. I’m just going to nip inside to get something to eat, do you want anything?” He rises from his chair and gestures to the shop door. “No thank you, I just finished a croissant before you came, but thanks anyway.” “No worries.” And he leaves to enter the boulangerie.

I’m just the sucker who let you fill her mind.

You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taeyong. It wasn’t worth it, at the end of the day, all you did was kiss him once. Perhaps you needed to find out more about him, get the full context at least. When Taeyong sits back down the conversation starts back up again and turns to family life. “So do you have any family back home?” You ask curiously. “What, in Korea? Yeah, I do. I have my parents back home and a sister. Yerin, she’s 15 and quite the handful. I miss her, but for now FaceTime calls will suffice.” He lets out a low chuckle at his own joke, making the situation a bit lighter. His answer doesn’t provide any clues to your questions though. “Aww that’s nice, I have a sister too. But she’s older than me. Do you have a partner at all?” You ask now, testing the waters. “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” “Same for me.” Well, that also doesn’t answer your questions. You’re pretty sure that the text earlier wasn’t from his sister, and you expect his mum to be down in his phone as a term of endearment; not a full name so it can’t be her. Is it better to give up the search? Maybe asking Taeyong more later would help. But what to say? Future you would deal with that. For now, you had the whole day ahead.

“So what do you have planned today?” He inquired now, breaking you from your thoughts. “I’m just going to go paint in the local park, do you fancy being my sitter? I need more anatomy practice.” “Ooh of course! I’ve never done anything like that before.” And so today’s plans were set. How could you pass up on the opportunity to paint someone built so divinely like Taeyong? Personal interests aside, Taeyong was made to be immortalised in artwork forever. His sharp jawline, large emotive eyes, and slim frame all coming together to create the perfect sitter for you. A painting of him, no matter the artist who painted it, should be hung in the Louvre. A masterpiece deserving of being viewed by everyone and adored.

Our thing progresses

I call and you come through

The spot you are situated in is perfect, a lush knoll leading out onto a tulip field, the many colours like a rainbow behind Taeyong. You’d decided to paint him in watercolour, partially because of the easy clean up, partially because you want to capture his true beauty, the delicate tones of his skin, hair, and eyes; the gentle dips of his collarbone, the sinewy muscle of his arms.

Taeyong poses quietly, the silence a comfortable one, as you begin painting him. He looks thoughtful, looking out into space behind you, he almost seems meditative, eyes blinking slowly and breathing even. As you mix the colour of his skin tone on your watercolour pan, you see him sigh, and wonder what he is thinking about. From what you know, Taeyong’s an introspective person, much like you, and perhaps that’s the mood he is in today. You are the same. It’s hard in the silence for your thoughts not to turn to the message. Intrusive thoughts fly around like bats in the night time; even if he was cheating, could you not push it aside for the sake of a summer fling? Logical thoughts cross out that of the intrusive ones - of course not, how could you be the other person in his relationship for the sake of selfishness? It’s important to be communicative, and if you have your worries - suspicions - then should you not speak to him about it? Sometimes things are better left unsaid, yes, but this is not one of them.

With a new resolve, you decide to talk to him come the evening. Clarification is what you need, and you must bolster up the courage to get it.

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush

You know what they say about alcohol, it’s liquid courage, and after a glass of wine or two, you finally feel bold enough to approach Taeyong. You open your hotel room door, and cross the hallway to his. A sharp rap on the door brings you to Taeyong’s attention, and he pads across the room to open the door. You stand near the threshold, looking almost alarmed, like a deer in headlights. Perhaps you came underprepared and unrehearsed. “C-can I talk to you?” You ask, words stuttering on their way out. “Of course, come in.” He replies gently, sensing your unease as he gestures for you to come in.

Once you’re both situated on the balcony in those damn uncomfortable plastic chairs, you begin to talk. “Do you have a partner, Taeyong?” You fiddle with your hands, eyes glued to them in aversion from his eyes. “No, why?” He replies, head cocked to the side in confusion. “When you went to the bathroom the other day, your phone was on the table directly in front of me, and pardon me for breaking your privacy, but I couldn’t help but read the preview of the message that came up. It said “missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy paris,” and then there was a love heart at the end. I’ve probably got the wrong end of the stick, but I’ve been so cautious because I don’t want to be that other person in a relationship. I don’t think you’re lying to me, I just wanted to be sure, and ask you since it’s been bothering me.”

Taeyong takes a hold of your hand in his and smooths his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. “I promise darling, I’m not dating anyone. That was my crazy ex. I broke up with her roughly six months ago, and she’s still sending me random messages. The only reason why she knows about me being in Paris is because she keeps hounding my mother for information. She keeps mentioning about me being back in her life, but I promise to you that I have no intention of even seeing her or speaking to her. She’s a mad woman.” At his words you feel tension release inside your chest. Your body feels lighter and you feel a wave of relief. Thank goodness for that.

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that Taeyong, and thank you for clearing things up. None of this is my place but, I appreciate you filling me in.” Now you look into his eyes, the dark earthy spheres look back at you as the remaining sunlight gives them a glossy shine. You smile back and he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You drink him in now, no longer hesitant to taste him. To him you taste so heavenly, the remaining mature hints of red wine mixed with something inherently just you, has him high with the feeling. He moves his hands to your waist now and you climb onto his lap, eager to be closer to him, to touch him. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt in his grip as you kiss down his neck now, lapping at the warm tan skin. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, and you nod in agreement.

Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue,

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession, Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor, Use our eyes, throw our hands overboard.

The morning light spills into the room through the translucent dainty cream curtains as they flow in the wind. The window is open to let the summer air flow in, and you don’t feel a chill at all. Taeyong’s warm skin radiates a heat you’ve never quite experienced, it’s so homely and cosy. The feeling of your head on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat unlike any other else. It’s nice to just be held, to feel the closeness of another human being and feel utterly comfortable.

You think back to the portrait of him you painted yesterday, and somehow you think it’s your best piece. There’s nothing like being able to capture a person with the aura whole. The piece emits something wholly him, just him. You think that’s why it might be your favourite. Maybe someday they’ll hang it in the Louvre, you giggle to yourself at that thought and Taeyong stirs underneath you. “What’s so funny, baby?” He asks, spoken with a gruff morning voice low and gravelly. “I was thinking about your portrait, and I thought about how you could hang it in the Louvre. But only because it’s you.”

“They’ll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” He replies, a blissed out look on his face. He’s right, maybe not about yourself, but about him. He might just be the ultimate muse.

But we’re the greatest

They’ll hang us in the Louvre

Down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre

thank you for reading! this fic is for the ‘Now Playing’ collab by @haechanblr and it was a joy to take part!! I hope everyone liked this hehe :))

If ur interested in more of my works my masterlist is here <3

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morningfears · 3 years

Text

This is Now

Rating: PG-13 (partying, drinking, weed a few mentions of anxiety)

Summary: Inspired by Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray. Set in 2015. Calum has leaned into the party scene just a little too heavily. He’s no longer the boy that you fell in love with and you’re tried of the rollercoaster of emotions.

Word Count: 4.3k

2015

The house at the top of the hill was fully illuminated, windows glowing with multicolored lights disturbed only by the silhouettes of partygoers passing by, and seemed to glow even brighter in contrast to the darkness that surrounded it. You could already feel the bass reverberating through your body the moment your feet touched the ground and it made you bite back a heavy sigh as you shut the car door behind you.

You stared up at the house, one you’d never been to but still caused a dreadful feeling of deja vu to wash over you, with parted lips in a vain attempt to keep yourself from frowning. You could barely hear the sound of the driver’s side door shutting over the noise, even from your parking spot near the street, and you felt a headache beginning to form behind your eyes as you waited for Calum to round the vehicle and grab your hand.

This was routine now, a typical night in your life, but you desperately wished it wasn’t. You could think of a million places that you’d rather be, none of which were located in the Hollywood Hills. The thought of attending another party, while it had all seemed so glamorous and fun at first, now made you feel sick.

“You okay?”

Calum’s voice cut through the mild nausea that churned in the pit of your stomach and you nodded, swallowing back the words that threatened to spill past your lips like bile. “Yeah,” you said, instead of what you truly wanted to say, “I’m good.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes as you lied to him, your words barely audible over the noise. You didn’t even bother to force a smile this time. It wasn’t as if he was really looking at you, anyway.

In the beginning of your relationship, back when this was all so new and date night meant burgers and fries and cheesy movies you didn’t actually watch, he would’ve pressed. He would’ve admitted that he knew you were lying and brought a hand to cup your cheek, palm warm against your skin, to encourage you to look him in the eye. He would’ve asked what was bothering you, what he could do to make it better. He would’ve poked your sides, desperate to get a genuine smile to your lips instead of the frown that had seemingly become permanent. He would’ve been earnest, sweet, loving.

But that was then and this is now.

Now, Calum didn’t press. He didn’t ask if you were sure. He didn’t ask if you wanted to leave the party and go get ice cream. Instead, he nodded, satisfied with your lack of protest, and leaned in with the intent to press a kiss to your lips. Before he could, you turned your head and mumbled, “Cigarette breath,” as his lips pressed to your cheek.

He rolled his eyes, no longer amused by your protests when he smoked, but took your hand in his to guide you up the path to the party that awaited you both.

You sometimes forgot that you’d encouraged it at first. That, once upon a time, this had all been fun. It was novel, exciting, something new.

But that was then.

You were both barely eighteen when you met, only months apart in age, and it was like something out of a daydream. You and Calum were both brand new to life without parents controlling your every move and even newer to life in a city like Los Angeles. You were a college student, looking to get a degree and a job, while he was a budding rockstar, looking to make a name for himself.

You were worlds apart, connected only by your age and your schoolyard crushes on one another, but that hadn’t stopped either of you in the slightest.

Your meeting was by chance, a happy accident that made you think the universe was finally giving you what you wanted - if only just this once - and you’d never actually tell him but you still had the t-shirt he ruined, coffee stains and all, buried in the back of your closet. He had been sweet, sincere and soft as he apologized with red cheeks and rushed words. His eyes had burned into yours, earnest and shining with the promise of a beautiful future, as he ignored his friends, all of whom were laughing at him, to help you clean coffee from your arms.

It was something out of a movie, cheesy and cute, but it had been the start of something beautiful.

Your dates were casual, something your mother would’ve deemed appropriate for your age but your friends teased you for, and you managed to avoid being spotted by fans and the few photographers that knew his name. You went for walks, to movies, bowling, for ice cream whenever he was in town and you weren’t drowning in homework.

It was easy, the kind of first love you’d always hoped you’d have, until things changed.

You didn’t begrudge the boys their success. You, like their friends and families, were firmly in their corner and cheered for them every step of the way. They deserved what they got, what they worked so hard for, and you were there to congratulate them on each win.

You know now that you’d been naive, desperately clinging to the notion that everything would remain the same even as their fanbase and name recognition grew larger and larger. It had been stupid of you to think that there wouldn’t be at least a few changes but you did your best to embrace them, glad that Calum was bringing you along for the ride when he could’ve easily left you in the dust.

The boys weren’t the most social when you first met, content with keeping to themselves in the house that they were renting. They didn’t have friends in LA, unsure if they’d be there long enough or fit in well enough to venture outside their own comfort zone, but that seemed to change faster than anything else as the success became more apparent.

They were, like you had been, unused to being the center of attention. It was strange, finding strangers that wanted to spend time with them - even if you know now that it was only because of what they could offer said strangers - but it happened suddenly. If they weren’t being invited to a dinner, it was to a club, and if not a club, a house party. They were hesitant at first, unsteady in a new environment, but they quickly fell into the new life they were living.

They took to it easily, happily, and, like the other changes before this one, Calum made sure you were by his side for it all.

You enjoyed it all at first. Partying with celebrities - even if they were B-List and desperate for a few paparazzi photos to get a little publicity - was an experience you never thought you’d have. It was thrilling, almost overwhelming, but you enjoyed the excuse to get dressed up on the weekend and spend the night dancing with Calum.

It was an occasional thing, once or twice a month, with plenty of dates interspersed to keep you and Calum happy with the amount of time you actually got to spend together without the interruption of strangers. He still practically lived in your dorm, a fixture so common that none of your hall mates even blinked at his presence, and you still felt a thrill whenever he took you home after a party and kissed you in front seat of his car.

But then the parties grew more frequent and the dates in between them grew fewer and farther between.

At first, you found yourself willing to do whatever was necessary to keep Calum happy. He was stressed, you understood that, and if letting off a little steam at a party helped him wind down, you wouldn’t begrudge him that. But it was as if your sweet boyfriend had disappeared and been replaced by someone you didn’t even know.

You were both only nineteen, on the cusp of adulthood, but he was acting twenty-five and rushing his life away.

He called things you both loved, dates you’d once adored, childish and scoffed at the notion of going bowling or to see a movie. He started smoking, the cigarettes a permanent fixture in the pocket of his ripped jeans, and rolled his eyes when you told him that they’d wreck his voice. He was obsessed with fitting in, with being a part of a life he’d once made fun of, and making stupid decisions that worried you.

You could see through him. You could see that he was still the same insecure, eager nineteen year old that you knew, but he put on a brave face and wore a proud mask as he mingled with the crowd.

You’d spent months begging him to take a few nights away from the party scene, to sober up and go camping with you or to Disney for a weekend. You complained that the parties were shit, that they were nothing compared to the ones you used to go to, and he’d told you to stop complaining or stop accompanying him on nights out.

The harshness of his words, the way he’d refused to even listen to your desire, had you on edge. It had only been a week, seven days since the first real fight you’d ever had, and the ground felt shaky beneath your feet as you followed him into yet another party. You wished, desperately, that he’d end the night early and sober. You wished that he’d take you home and wrap you in his arms, face buried in your neck and hands tracing patterns over your skin as you talked about nothing and everything.

But you knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

Because that was then and this is now.

You felt exhausted, tired of the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you through in only a matter of months, and refused as a man you didn’t know but Calum seemed to offered you a drink.

“This party’s shit.”

Calum’s words cut through the din surrounding you, his tone annoyed and his shoulders slumped. He’d blown off a different party with the boys for this one and it seemed to be far less exciting than he was promised now that you were actually inside. You agreed with his sentiment but you didn’t want to make matters worse by asking him to leave.

So instead of agreeing, instead of asking him to take you home, you shrugged and took a cursory glance around the room.

Strangers were packed together, bodies moving off beat as the music streamed through speakers scattered around the room. The lights pulsed, even more off beat than the dancers, and the flashing made you nauseous as blue light washed over a sea of seemingly identical faces. The entire house reeked of weed, the scent strong and off-putting, and you fought the urge to cover your nose as you took measured breaths in an attempt to acclimate yourself.

Calum was right; this party was shit.

As was becoming standard routine for the both of you, the fact that the party was substandard and neither of you particularly liked - or really knew - anyone lingering about the room didn’t deter Calum from grabbing a drink and falling into a conversation.

He was attentive, his eyes on the man who’d attempted to hand you a drink, as his arm settled over your shoulders. You felt like a piece of furniture, a fixture for him to rest on rather than a figure for him to pay attention to, and fought the overwhelming urge to throw his arm off of you and climb out the open window in the corner. It wasn’t the most practical option - the front door was right there and stood wide open - but you imagined Calum wouldn’t notice if you slipped out the window.

Though part of you, the more cynical part that had seemingly taken over during the course of the week, wondered if he’d even noticed if you walked straight out the front door. And if he did, would he care?

You knew that you weren’t being fair because, at the end of the day, he wasn’t holding you here. You could leave, walk away from the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you on. You could walk away from a lot of things in your life, even. You could request an extension from a professor without upsetting the rest of the class. You could skip a class and not delay anyone else’s education.

You were free to do as you pleased, to move as you wished, and you were the only one that would have to face the consequences. Calum, on the other hand, couldn’t. He had the boys to worry about, the fans, his family; anything he did could cause a domino effect and you understood that he was simply looking for something he could control.

But rationality did little to alleviate the nausea churning in the pit of your stomach.

You were afraid that if you stood in the corner, surrounded by the scent of weed and alcohol and too much perfume, you’d say something that you’d regret. You were afraid that you’d start crying or, worse, vomit on Calum’s shoes. So you took a deep breath and nudged Calum’s side. “I’m going to find the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

Calum barely acknowledged your words - and you were grateful this time, glad that he couldn’t hear the wobble in your voice, or, at least, hadn’t seemed to notice. He pressed a quick peck to your temple, his eyes never leaving your companion, before his arm fell from your shoulders to rest at his side.

You left him there, amid the crowd, and ascended the stairs two at a time.

Your breathing was growing shallow, harder to control, as you realized that there were still little things about Calum that remained just as you’d always known them. There were still glimpses of the boy you’d fallen in love with but that was all they were, small fragments of the past that no longer seemed to matter.

Some of the things about him still made your heart race, despite not knowing where you really stood anymore or how you really felt about the person he was becoming. The way that he was still physically affectionate, his arm around your shoulders or waist at any chance he got, and the way that he didn’t mind being in photos together so long as he could half-hide himself behind you and press his face into your neck. He still kissed you goodnight in the front seat of his car, one hand on your thigh and the other on your cheek. He still pressed his lips to your temple or forehead, a soft pressure that bid you goodbye when he didn’t want to say the words.

But part of you wondered if that was because it was comfortable, muscle memory at this point.

Your lungs burned with the effort it took to breathe as you slipped into an empty bedroom and shut the door behind you. You slid down the door and sat there, back pressed against the hardwood, as you willed yourself not to cry. With your knees pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around them, you reflected on the state of your relationship.

It hurt, thinking that Calum was just going through the motions rather than actively playing a part in your relationship as he once had, but when he spent more of his time with strangers - a cup in one hand and a cigarette between his lips - than he did with you, it was bound to happen.

Sure, you were by his side most nights. You never had to wonder if he was sleeping with someone else or if he was actually out getting wasted - you saw it for yourself, nearly every night - but there was little solace in that. You were like a favorite accessory or a piece of clothing tugged on for comfort, maybe just out of habit. You no longer seemed to play an active role in Calum’s life and you found that you were just as guilty as he was of going through the motions.

Your boyfriend was disappearing before your very eyes and you were just watching him go.

You sat there, back aching as you remained hunched against the door, for far too long. Your eyes remained trained on the hardwood floor beneath you as you thought through everything you hadn’t allowed yourself time to consider. It was hard, reflecting on what had gone wrong and how you’d contributed to it just as much as he had, but it had to be done.

You couldn’t take it anymore, sitting on a rollercoaster of emotions wondering when things would derail or if you’d ever get a chance to get off.

The last thing you wanted to do was leave Calum - you loved him; that much you knew for certain - but you couldn’t seem to find any alternatives. He didn’t seem to be interested in hearing what you had to say, in understanding what you were feeling, or playing an active part in the relationship anymore. He wasn’t ready to move on, to return to some semblance of balance, but you were.

You felt lighter, the weight of the world no longer seemed to be sitting on your shoulders, as you stepped back into reality. A wall of noise hit you as you descended the stairs but you didn’t mind it. You were resolved, steeled to do what needed to be done, and only hoped that Calum wouldn’t wish you ill because of it.

You hoped that one day he’d be able to look back and realize he’d gotten swept away in it all. You hoped that he’d be able to realize that you’d done what you had to. You hoped that he’d live to see that day, at least.

You floated the idea of just leaving, of disappearing without another word and crawling out a window into the night air, but you knew that you couldn’t. He deserved a proper goodbye, even if you didn’t feel strong enough to give it.

You waited at the edge of the living room, your arms folded over your chest, and watched as Calum traded drinks with a girl that neither of you knew. A month ago, you would’ve chastised him. You would’ve told him that he shouldn’t take drinks from strangers but you knew that it would fall on uncaring ears.

So, this time you said nothing. You crossed the living room and settled against his side, holding yourself silent and stead as his arm curled around your waist.

“Get lost?”

His words were slurred, his accent almost impossible to understand, but you’d expected that. You wished he was sober, that he would’ve taken the night off and at least paced himself, but that never seemed to happen anymore. He had a half smile on his lips, looking plenty amused with his on joke, and you bit back a heavy sigh as you shook your head. “There was a line.”

He didn’t question it, didn’t seem to ponder what line would’ve taken hours, and nodded. He was far enough gone to not realize how much time had passed and you were thankful for that as you watched him sway to some awful pop remix that you were sure he’d laughed at in the past. You moved a little closer to him, soaking in the last moments you’d spend with his arms wrapped around you, and waited for the right time to ask him to leave.

Calum, however, beat you to the punch. Before you could even begin to think about phrasing your request, he shoved his keys into your hands. “Wanna take me home?”

You were grateful that even in his altered state, he knew better than to get behind the wheel. You took the keys from him, nodded, and sighed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to the people you’d spent your night with. It was barely coherent goodnight, the words seeming to get stuck in his throat, but they were far enough gone that nothing seemed amiss. They returned the gesture, even bidding you a goodnight, before their focus returned to the last of the liquor.

Getting Calum into the car was always a challenge. Sometimes, you could count on the guys for help. Even drunk, they seemed to be able to handle dragging Calum to the front seat before settling into the back themselves. Alone, it seemed an impossible task. You were sure that anyone watching would assume you were just as drunk as Calum as you stumbled down the driveway, his arm around your waist and a cigarette in his free hand, but this was just another piece of your nightly routine.

Time seemed to pass in a blur as you drove him home. There was silence, neither of you reached to turn on the radio, and neither of you seemed to notice. Calum chain smoked, one cigarette after another disappearing into the night, and you did your best to breathe only when there was a moment without nicotine swirling through the front seat.

You reached his house far quicker than you thought you would, a little disappointed that this chapter of your life was now so close to being over. You weren’t sure that he’d remember this in the morning, you weren’t sure if you’d have to go through it all again tomorrow when he was hungover and annoyed at the world just for existing, but you hoped it’d be easier the second time.

As you put the car into park, Calum turned his head to face you. He flicked his cigarette out the window and unbuckled his seatbelt before leaning over and brushing his fingers over your cheek. “You look nice tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

He hadn’t and you’d have been lying if you said his words didn’t make your heart ache.

It was always like this. The drunker he got, the sweeter he got. His words, soft and slurred, reminded you of the boy you fell for and you felt your resolve cracking. It was harder than you imagined, leaving when he was looking at you like you were the one who hung the moon and the stars, but it had to be done.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he’d said the words in weeks, the same three words that made your knees weak and your heart pound dripping like honey past his lips. They were the clearest words he’d spoken in hours, as if he knew they were what you needed to hear, and you offered him a watery smile. “I know.”

He returned it with half-lidded eyes and leaned over the console to press his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, a whisper amidst the raging chaos of your internal dialogue, but it felt like you were burning alive. He touched you as if you were made of glass, fragile and liable to break at any moment, but the damage was done. You knew this wouldn’t last, it was a fleeting moment of the past.

A few months ago, you would’ve told yourself that Calum was still the same boy you fell in love with. But that was then and this is now.

He broke the kiss first to press his forehead to yours. His eyes remained closed, his breathing ragged and his cheeks tinted pink, as yours opened and you committed his face to memory. You wanted to remember him as he was, the good-hearted boy who’d shown you more about love than you ever imagined he would. His smile, his eyes, the way he kissed you; they were the good things, the things that made you wish you could just stop thinking and fall into his arms.

But the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes rolling off him in waves, those were the bad things. They were the things that made you wish he was sober and realize that you needed to leave before it was too late.

“Come on. It’s late, you should get to bed.”

Calum was quiet as you helped him out of the car. He didn’t say a word as you unlocked the door, only stopping you to press another kiss to your lips after you turned the key. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his eyes focused on you as he lingered in the threshold.

“I can’t.”

He was drunk, swaying on his feet, but he knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just talking about spending the night. “This is it?”

“Yeah, Cal. This is it. I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me, too.” He paused, his eyes focused on your face and shining with unshed tears, before he added, “I wish you’d stay.”

You offered him a wry smile, one hand reaching out to brush his cheek. “And I wish you were sober. I’ll see you around, Calum.”

He made no move to reply, his words dying on his lips as he watched you disappear down the sidewalk. You could feel his eyes on your back, his stare burning your skin, until you rounded a corner and felt like you were able to breathe once more. Without the weight of his gaze on your skin, you gripped a lamppost and attempted to catch your breath.

It was over; you’d gotten off the rollercoaster. But you left behind the boy you loved.

Once upon a time, you’d have never left him behind. But that was then.

And this is now.

_____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hey-o. I haven’t written shit in, like, months. I’ve been so burnt out and depressed and panicky but, well, I’ve wanted to write this since maybe March? So, here you go. I hope you like it. Likes and reblogs and comments make a writer happy. Also very weird to think that Cal and I were 19 in 2015. Fuck, it’s been a long ass 5 years.

#5sos imagine #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood x you #mine

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prettyinpymtech · 4 years

Text

A Trip to the Library

Poe Dameron x Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Poe is an elementary school teacher with a not-so-secret crush on the school librarian.

A/N: This was inspired by an idea I had for quite some time and yes, I did listen to “A Trip to the Library” from She Loves Me while writing this fic.

Friday.

Poe Dameron, much like his own students, impatiently awaited the end of the school week. His haste was hardly the result of resentment or displeasure-Poe valued his profession a great deal, appreciating the camaraderie of his colleagues and students alike.

But the end of the school week always promised a welcome respite from work-and a chance to visit you.

Your duties as school librarian had only begun a few months ago, but in that short time you had developed a rather particular bond with Poe. Leia had been the first to introduce you, asking Poe to provide assistance during your initial arrival.

As the weeks turned to months, he found his fondness for you continue to grow. He would often invite you to lunch, delighted by discussions of literature. He loved to watch you excitedly talk about a particular chapter and always welcomed a chance to spend more time in your company.

Poe’s admiration for the school librarian had not gone unnoticed. His students exchanged knowing glances when he would stare at the clock every Friday, nervously redoing his tie. He had decided to distract his thoughts by grading a few papers before a student interrupted the silence.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Poe instantly looked up, failing to conceal his blush at the question. “I’m sorry?”

“Miss Y/N,” stated the young boy. “Are you going to tell her you love her?”

A few giggles erupted from the other students. Poe tried to offer an explanation, surprised by the young boy’s observation, but he couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on his face. Fortunately the bell sounded throughout the hallways, providing a perfect diversion.

The children cheered, finally allowed to embrace a much-needed rest. They waved goodbye to their favorite teacher, racing towards the playground where their parents waited. Poe watched his students’ enthusiasm with a smile, chuckling at the young boy when he shouted, “You can do it!”

He waited until each of his students had gathered their belongings before making his way to the school library. The direction required only a few minutes, but he decided to leave early to visit with Leia before she left. Her office door remained open, providing a glimpse of the esteemed principal in the company of her husband.

They were in the middle of a deeply cozy conversation when Leia spotted Poe, inviting him to step inside. He tried to hide his amusement as the pair separated as though their own parents had caught them kissing.

“Hey, you two. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked with an innocent smile.

Han rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. Leia simply gave her husband’s arm a gentle squeeze to ease his annoyance. “Not at all, Poe.”

“Got any plans for the weekend?”

“Han is taking me out for dinner.”

“How about you? You have any plans for the weekend, Dameron?” Then, with a teasing smile, Han added, “A date with Y/N, maybe?”

Poe’s wide eyes were almost comical and Han laughed at his attempts to offer an explanation. “I don’t-I mean, how did you-”

“The kid is hopeless, Leia,” Han stated with a deadpan expression.

“He is,” she responded, “but I still think he’s got a pretty good chance.”

She offered Poe a warm smile before moving towards the door, quickly followed by her husband as he placed his hand on Poe’s shoulder. “A word of advice, kid. Don’t wait too long. If you really love her, then tell her.”

Poe watched as Han wrapped his arm around Leia’s shoulder, placing a loving kiss on her head as they left.

Inspired by their words, Poe finally reached the school library. It had been your suggestion to extend the hours on Friday, providing a safe location for children to wait for their parents and providing a chance for them to find a book to read for the weekend. Poe had been the first to encourage your efforts, appreciating your concern for the well-being of the children.

His arrival was welcomed with the sight of students resting in the comfort of comfy chairs. A few looked up and waved in his direction before returning their attention to the pages in front of them. Poe relished the familiarity of the library, strolling past a variety of bookshelves and observing the selections they offered.

Poe’s amble ultimately came to a stop once he found you settled in a corner of the room, occupied with a display. Your entire presence affected him in a way he had never felt before, especially when you met his gaze with a warm smile that never failed to make him blush.

“You’re just in time!” Holding up two different streamers, you asked, “Which looks better? Blue or purple?”

Poe tried to form an answer. Tried to match the different colors with the colorful display of fairy tales, but all he could focus on was your features illuminated by the twinkling lights suspended overhead.

“Uh, blue.”

You gave a quick nod before taping the blue streamers into place and joined his side to observe your work. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

The display was perfect, but Poe’s observation was far too captivated by your beauty. You blushed when you turned to find him staring at you and rewarded his comment with a number of streamers draped over his shoulders.

“You’re far too charming, Poe.”

He gave a gentle tug on a streamer wrapped around your arm, enchanted by your laugh as you stepped closer. The close proximity allowed Poe a moment to indulge in his affection. Perhaps now was the perfect time to confess his feelings. Perhaps now was the time to-

“Hi Mister Dameron! Hi Miss Y/N!”

Well, perhaps not.

The slight tug of his shirt compelled Poe to look down, where he found one of his students looking up at him with wide eyes. “You look funny!”

She pointed to the streamers draped along his shoulders and giggled as he placed a few on her head. Kneeling down to her level, he noticed the book in her arms.

“What you got there, Allison?” The young girl proudly presented her selection. “Anne of Green Gables?”

“Uh-huh. Miss Y/N said it’s one of her favorites.” Suddenly aware of your presence, she stepped to the side and motioned for Poe to step closer. In a hushed whisper, she asked, “Are you going to tell her?”

There was no need to ask for clarification-apparently everyone knew who had captivated Poe’s attention.

He risked a glance in your direction, worried you had heard Allison’s question. But your back was turned to him while you arranged the books in your display, leaving him unable to gauge your reaction.

He nodded and Allison clapped excitedly. “Good! I know she feels the same way!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I heard Miss Y/N tell Miss Rose that you’re the handsomest man in the whole world!”

Her comment was met with a loud crash as you dropped the books in your hands and Poe suspected perhaps you had overheard their conversation.

He immediately rushed to your side, helping you pick up the books on the floor. An embarrassed chuckle escaped your lips as you took one of the books he returned in your grasp.

“I, uh, should get back to work,” you mumbled, ignoring his whisper of your name. “I still have to organize the shelves and-”

“Do you remember the time I snuck in here with Beebs?”

You furrowed your brows, puzzled by his question. “Of course. Leia was furious with you.”

Poe smiled at the memory, recalling Leia’s opposition to pets brought inside the building. He had tried to comply with her demands, but how could he possibly deny the pleading stares of his students?

The visit had been short, only long enough for each student to fall in love with the adorability of his corgi. The rest of the day had required Poe to sneak through the hallways, careful to avoid Leia’s fury. She had almost caught him and Poe, in a moment of sheer panic, rushed into the nearest room he could find-which just so happened to be the library.

The sight of Poe with a dog in his arms hardly surprised you. Instead you offered a teasing smile in his direction, very much aware of Leia’s initial stance, and returned your attention to the small group of children in front of you. They were far too fascinated by your dramatic narration of a story to notice the new arrivals. Poe had spent the rest of the day in the library, mindful of the admiration he felt as he watched you interact with the children.

“That was when I knew I loved you.” He stepped closer, his own voice now a whisper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time. I’ve loved you everyday since that moment, Y/N.”

You remained silent after his confession and Poe worried that perhaps he had made you uncomfortable. But those concerns were quickly dismissed once you pressed your lips to his. Poe’s touch immediately reached for your face, deepening the kiss with all of the love he had gathered for so long.

The children cheered as they spotted your embrace, though their delight was soon followed by discussions of who would be the first to tell Han and Leia.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron #star wars imagine

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writing-fool · 4 years

Text

mlqc | like it’s a bad thing pt. 1

I think these are ‘fighting’ scenarios, but I’m not 100% sure at this point. It’s like a ‘relationship on the cliffs’ thing. Pt. 1 for Victor and Shaw because I noticed these were getting a tad long. And they kind of carry the same theme, I guess. Wanted to include Lucien, but I ended up not being able to finish his for now...so if I make the next part, he’ll probably be on there.

I’m still working on a hp!au for Victor, but that may take a while since the inspiration doesn’t seem to be arriving anytime soon. It’s all been a bit tough, sorry. I say this all the time, but I apologise for the lack of fics; my writing pace’s been slow.

As always, enjoy the read!

Love,

Warning(s): slight angst, profanity, mention of mature content.

Victor

You love Victor. You really do. But sometimes, just sometimes you wonder why you put up with this man and his bullshit. A great downside to being involved both romantically and professionally is that those types of relationships tend to bleed into one another. This could be in the form of an office quickie...or something a lot less fun.

On the outside, Victor may seem put together, but you know him well enough by now that this month has been incredibly stressful for him. But so has it been for you. Safe to say, it’s been tense, even at home. Victor’s constant nagging about work performance and his snide comments at your so-called slacking off have pushed you to the breaking point, and you’re really not going to sit there and take it today.

“Do you even understand what I’m saying? LFG can’t move forward with your company if you continue working at this inefficient pace. You, as the head of a company, should know how to improve the quality and efficiency of your work.”

You sigh, not taking your eyes off of the laptop in front of you as Victor exasperatedly throws another one of your proposals on the coffee table. “I get it. Just give me some time.” You rub your temples, getting back to your own work.

“Do you? It doesn’t seem like you get the point here. You. Do. Not. Have. Time,” he harshly points out.

“You know you’re able to manipulate time, right?” You raise an eyebrow and look up at his unamused face.

“I can’t favour you like this. Did you really think I was going to stop time to solve your inefficiency problem? You can’t rely on others all the time. A company that can’t pull itself up is use—”

Something in you snaps at that very moment. “I get it. We’re useless, inefficient, and we’re so lucky LFG is even willing to support this failing company. I’m a useless boss, I can’t do anything right, I’m leeching off of my rich, CEO boyfriend to get ahead, I fucked my way to the top, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know,” you snarl, slamming your laptop shut with a resounding snap.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Victor’s glaring now, sharp, stormy eyes boring into yours.

“Oh, do I?” you mimic his words, narrowing your eyes, “Because you sure don’t seem to tell me otherwise. I can’t read minds, Victor, and all I hear from your mouth are insults telling me how incapable I am as a boss. So pray tell, how am I supposed to think I deserve my job when not only the entire business world, but also my own fucking boyfriend tells me I don’t?”

Victor’s clearly taking aback by your sudden outburst, but his need to get his point across in this argument seems to win over the instinct to lighten your mood at this very moment. “First of all, I don’t know why you care what others say—”

“Because I’m human! Maybe you don’t think of people calling you names anymore because they’re lost in the sea of people literally grovelling at your feet, but I’m not you,” you rub your temples again, voice lowering as the mental exhaustion kicks in.

“I don’t know if I can live like this anymore. Fuck Victor, you make me feel like a failure and you just don’t seem to care.” You push past his stunned form and head to the bedroom.

“Sleep in your office if all you care about is work.” You glance back at him for the last time before slamming the bedroom door shut.

Victor messed up. Royally. He didn’t mean to take his stress and anger out on you and he definitely didn’t mean to act like your boss at home.

He’s been trying to get back to work for the past two hours while giving you some space, but the lingering guilt and worry in the back of his mind prevent him from actually doing anything productive. What if you really meant it? What if this is it? He can’t lose you just because he acted like an idiot. Victor’s always assumed you knew he cherished you more than anything in the world...but maybe he’s been neglecting you as a partner.

With a steel resolve to make it right, Victor leaves his home office and walks to your shared bedroom. The light from the hallway streams in as he opens the door, illuminating your sleeping figure. You’re curled in on yourself in a protective, almost guarded way, something you never do (you’re usually the kind of sleeper that has their limbs flopping everywhere on the bed). Victor feels a sharp pang in his heart at the notion of seeing you look this broken...because of him.

Gently, as to not wake you, he shuffles to the dresser, carefully taking off his shirt and folding it over a chair. After sufficiently (un)dressing himself, he slides under the sheets.

Victor tentatively reaches a hand over to touch your arm, only to feel you turn away from his touch. Instead of pulling his hand back, Victor brings his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against his bare chest.

You’re awoken by the sudden movement, and in your sleepy state, you lean back into the warmth surrounding you.

Victor’s breath grazes your ear as he whispers. “I’m sorry.” Hm?

Your mind slowly registers that the warmth is, in fact, caused by Victor’s body heat, and more importantly, that you’re still very much upset with him. You struggle to get out of his grip, but that only seems to tighten the hold Victor has on you.

“Don’t. Stay with me,” he pleads, voice tinged with despair. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You still your actions, instead opting to turn around to face Victor.

“I don’t know if this is what I want,” you speak up after a long moment of silence, “I love you, but I don’t want to be stuck in a relationship where I’m not welcomed.”

“Do you feel like you’re stuck here?” Victor asks.

You avoid his gaze. “I’m not sure. It’s not all your fault, but I do wonder whether you stopped caring about me sometimes. You’ve been so harsh to me, lately.”

“I didn’t, I never stopped caring,” Victor takes your hand in his left one, interlacing your fingers, “But I understand that I’ve made you feel insecure and uncared for. I never wanted to make you feel worthless, but I’ve gone too far this time, haven’t I?”

A mirthless chuckle escapes your mouth. “That’s an understatement,” you quip.

You expect Victor to retort back with something mean, revert to his distant self (at least, to the distant person he’s become this month), but instead, he gently cups your cheek with his right hand, raising your face up to look at him again.

A soft kiss is placed on your forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be less harsh, and I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me. I’ll fix it all, your insecurities, your anxiousness. So give me one more chance, please. Let me fix it.” Victor’s beautiful grey eyes look into yours, sadness apparent on his face. You lie there for a long while, staring into his sombre eyes in silence.

“You’ll do anything?” you finally ask in curiosity. A resolute nod is your answer. “Even stop talking about work at home?” Victor nods again. You pause for a while, contemplating your next request. “...And take me to Souvenir and make me pudding every day?”

Victor snorts. “That’s the least I can do, dummy,” he chuckles lightly. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “I don’t mean you’re dumb. I just—”

Your soft giggle breaks his anxious ramble, and Victor feels like he’s just won the biggest prize at the lottery. “Just this is fine,” you whisper, “I thought it’d take longer for me to forgive you. But for some reason...I’m just happy to see your old self again.”

Victor sighs, pulling you closer. He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, inhaling deeply. “Dummy, don’t be so kind to me. I won’t know what to do,” he mumbles, relishing in the dark quiet of your bedroom. Truth is, he probably never knows what to do when it comes to you.

“You just have to love me, that’s all,” you pull your hand out of his, instead hooking your pinkies together, “No take-backsies.”

He rolls his eyes at your antics, a fond expression betraying the lack of annoyance behind the gesture. His pinky finger curls around yours ever so slightly, as if it’s desperate to hold onto yours. As if he’s desperate to hold onto you.

“No take-backsies.”

Shaw

“Not again,” you growl under your breath.

Shaw’s always been popular with the ladies, the gents, and the non-binary friends. Which is fine, it’s fine. You’re not a jealous person. You’ve dealt with people asking him out, people asking him if he was a celebrity and making you take pictures of him and some other person on a date, older ladies in your family groping him whenever you bring him to a family function (which really, isn’t about jealousy. You got mad, rightfully so, because they were harassing him). You can’t even remember how many times one of his campus students has confessed to him. With you right next to him at the table! Is it that unbelievable that I’m his significant other?

But too far is too far.

You walked into the fancy nightclub tonight, expecting to get a drink or two in your system, let loose with Shaw for a couple of hours, drag his drunk ass home and cuddle in bed. Not this.

The moment you walk in, you spot Shaw’s lavender coloured mop of hair sticking out over one of the booths. But he’s not alone, oh no. He’s surrounded by young men and women fawning over him like he’s some kind of celebrity or host club guest. And even though he looks a little bored, he’s not exactly bothered by the attention he’s getting. Because of course he isn’t. The moment his eyes land on you though, he looks you up and down appreciatively before shooting you a challenging smirk. He reaches over to a long-haired girl next to him, lazily fingering a lock of her hair. She looks up at him with a coy smile, but his amber eyes are fixed on yours, gauging your reaction. Oh, so he wants me to come over? Play the little jealous significant other? Hah! Not today, boy. I didn’t come here to play games.

You raise an eyebrow, a visibly annoyed expression showing on your face. Instead of heading in his direction, you strut to the bar, shoes tapping rhythmically on the floor. I look hot, I feel hot, and I need a fucking drink.

You order a bourbon on the rocks, gulping down a large sip of the beverage a soon as it gets to you. Bourbon is made to be savoured. You hear Victor’s voice resounding in your mind from the time he taught you how to judge alcohol for a production. So am I, but nobody’s been thinking of that, apparently. You turn around with a scowl, leaning against the bar. You feel horrible, and the fact that Shaw’s back to his childish antics isn’t making that any better. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. The flashing lights are blurry, but still noticeable through your closed eyelids. But what you don’t notice, is the man heading over to you from his side of the bar.

Shaw notices. How could he not? The moment you walked in the room, all he could see was you. And he knows he’s being a little shit, trying to make you jealous like that, but he can’t help wanting to play with you. It’s just a game of push and pull, and maybe he just wanted to see how hard you’d pull for him.

He didn’t expect you to react like that, though.

So here he is, so uncharacteristically walking (or strutting, because he is still sort of himself, after all) away from the admiring crowd of people around him and towards his clearly pissed off lover. And the man who’s clearly trying to chat you up.

“—buy you a drink?” he overhears. Shaw halts and watches the blinding spotlights in the club illuminate the sight in front of him.

He sees you lean closer to the man, foreheads almost touching in a conspiring way, before you shrug and the two of you turn to the bar. The man flags down the bartender, holding two fingers up. He’s just ordering two drinks for himself. That’s it.

His gait picks up again as he sees the bartender slide your favourite drink across the counter. Before you can even take a sip of bourbon, the textured glass is ripped out of your hand. Shaw downs the amber liquid, the burning sensation washing away the bitter taste of jealousy.

“Thanks for ordering me a drink, honey,” he emphasizes the pet name, grinning at you before turning his head to the man with a fierce glare. The man raises his hands in defense, shakes his head at you with a smile, and promptly heads back to the other side of the bar. Shaw turns to you, the grin slipping back on his face momentarily.

“Already cheating on me?” he asks, masking the slight hurt behind a teasing façade. Shaw plops down on the stool next to you, watching your face. You look slightly guilty at first, but then your expression morphs back into one of anger...and exhaustion. You aren’t actually cheating on me, are you?

“Funny thing for you to say,” you ground out.

“...So you were jealous.”

“That’s what you take from that?” You stare at him incredulously, his smug grin slowly sliding off of his face. I’m making it worse. Why did I make it worse?

“Jesus, you’re a prick,” you sigh, “No drink can fix this evening. I’m just going to go home. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” You climb out of your seat, making a beeline for the exit. Shaw is quick to follow you outside, grabbing your wrist before you can flag down a cab.

“Let me go, Shaw.”

“Hey, hey, it was a joke. You know that, right?” His ears are ringing from the loud music back in the club, but the sudden quiet’s more deafening than any song booming from the speakers. It feels sad, and Shaw hates it.

“I said, let me go.” You’re refusing to look at him. Why is it turning out like this?

“It was a joke. If I let go, you’re going to leave. Don’t leave me,” the slight pleading of his voice makes you turn around to look at his face. He tentatively releases your wrist, and you make no move to leave...yet.

“I don’t want to play these games anymore.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows. “I don’t understand,” he says.

“Is it fun, to try and make me jealous? To remind me of the fact that I’m somehow not suited for you, that after this amount of time, I’m still not enough for you?” you poke a finger into his lithe chest, “Because guess what, you succeeded. I’m jealous. I admit it, you won.”

“I didn’t—And you took that guy’s offer for a drink! You’re not better!” Shaw suddenly raises his voice, his stance akin to that of a wolf on guard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend! And you know why he bought me a drink? Because he said I looked like I needed a pick me up. And you didn’t even notice! Even worse, you’re the fucking reason I needed one in the first place!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were going to throw a hissy fit over me hanging out with some friends?” he spits out.

“Friends? They were hanging onto you, Shaw! One of those girls had her tits so close to you, she almost suffocated you with them. And you know it,” a humourless laugh escapes your lips, “You love the attention. And we both know I was never enough to provide that for you. So I quit.”

Shaw deflates. “What do you mean, you quit?”

“I don’t want to be vying for your affection with the rest of them, I guess. It’s selfish of me, but somehow I thought I’d be special, or something,” you scoff, kicking a nearby rock of the pavement, “But I don’t think I am. Not to you. So I think we should stop all of this before one of us gets even more hurt. I think we should break up.”

Shaw halts, burying both of his hands in his hair. His breathing quickens as he processes your words. “No, no, absolutely not. We aren’t breaking up.” he looks at you with the same pleading eyes he used that time when he got sick and begged you to cuddle him instead of getting his medicine. Back then, everything seemed so...lovely.

“I don’t know what else to do, Shaw,” your voice breaks, and Shaw feels his heart shatter at the notion of you hurting this much. “I just don’t know why you do this, I—”

“Because I don’t deserve you.”

“What?” You shake your head in confusion.

“I know it’s fucked up. Everyone around us knew that I wasn’t deserving of you. Just look at me,” he gestures at himself, “I’m a fucking gangster dating someone who deserves better. So I tried pushing you away, and then you pulled back, and you fought for me. And I just don’t know how to deal with that, ‘cause people don’t do that for me.”

You sigh. “You deserve to be fought for.”

“I don’t. I really fucking don’t. Because here I am, with the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m about to lose them. And it should be what I want because I keep pushing and pushing and pushing, but now the only thing I want is you. I fucked up.”

You lean against a nearby wall, silence hanging above you two before you break it. “I...don’t think this dynamic is healthy,” you start.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fucked up, but I promise I’ll—”

“And if we’re going to try this again, you’re going to have to fix your attitude,” you interrupt him.

“I—you’re serious?” a careful nod has Shaw’s expression turning from dumbfounded to ecstatic. His grin’s back, but now it seems more...genuine. More innocent.

“Fuck. I can’t believe it,” he tilts his head up to the sky in glee, but soon looks back at you with resolution in his eyes, “I’m going to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”

You laugh. “Is that a challenge, pretty boy?”

“You bet your ass it is,” he teases, swiftly scooping you up into his arms, “I fucking love you, and I’ll do anything I can to prove it,” he mutters into the crook of your neck.

“Shaw...I love you too, but people are really staring, actually.” You cast worried glances over his shoulder.

“Don’t care.”

“...Of course you don’t.”

Shaw’s scenario was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, to be fair. I think I made him pretty OOC, but I’m filling in a lot of the blanks in regards to his personality, and for some reason he has serious trauma and insecurities here, which is either kinda valid, or projecting. I don’t know if I’m satisfied with it...but it’s going I guess.

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #mlqc imagine #mr love #love and producer #victor li #shaw #mlqc scenarios #li zeyan #ling xiao #long live the queue

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

Make Me Crescendo

Summary: Song-ah ponders if there is truly any space left in Joon Young's life for her. Joon Young shows her exactly where her place is.

Author's Note: I didn't expect to enjoy this show as much as I do honestly, I love the dynamic and chemistry between the leads. Most of the other characters could choke for all I care, but I love Song-ah and Joonie, they are goals and they deserve to just run away and be happy. Anyway, I was inspired so this happened. (Please don't leave comments asking about when I'll write more, I'll do it when I can and when I'm inspired for all of my stories. If you are going to leave a comment, you can tell me what you liked or what I could do better, appreciate that more!) Happy reading, please ignore all my lame music puns! 😂😈

Music filters through the doors as she watches on her heart thumping erratically, a metronome expelling the staccatos of her fear. The gaggle of female students outside the door white noise in the background, their coos and awes stabbing her paper thin heart that is wavering in her chest.

They sound so good together!

Omg, don't they look perfect?

I think they would be a much better couple!

Taking a step back her violin bangs into the wall suddenly alerting them to her presence, her eyes dart wildly like a cornered animal as they look at her with pity and sneering apologetic eyes as if saying: you brought this on yourself, how could you ever think you could have him?

With a wet gasp, she scurries off avoiding their looks clutching her hands tightly as she bursts through the doors. The cool Spring air whips her hair around her face temporarily blocking her face from onlookers, the moisture on her cheeks causes strands to stick before she pushes them back.

Seeing them play in such perfect harmony has only cemented the doubts that already fill her mind, how can see ever measure how to Jung-kyung? A woman that he has not only loved for years but who also plays her instrument far better than she ever will? If she is meant to be a replacement, she stands no chance; they are worlds apart maybe it's time she accepted that.

I'll cherish our moments today, it was an honor.

She knows what she has to do, her heart whines but she blinks away her tears. He deserves better.

His missed calls and messages taunt her as she peers down despondently at her phone, she hasn't been able to bring herself to sever their bond. Every time she starts to type out a message to set him free, his smile flashes in her mind and she's rendered comatose. Instead flinging the cursed object far away and punishing her fingers as shrill notes screech from her violin.

Avoiding him isn't as simple as she'd hoped with everyone knowing about their ill-fated relationship and constantly inquiring about his whereabouts, it becomes sickening obvious that most "friends" who approach her with their shrieking calls of "unnie" could care less about her and are instead hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

As soon as they realized he was absent and had no plans of suddenly materializing, they bombarded her with excuses of why they needed to take their leave, immediately. She vaguely wondered if they cared at all about how little they made her feel, their treatment further emphasizing how insignificant others viewed her.

She was always disposable to others. She didn't even have a best friend to turn to for advice, someone else who has decided that she simply wasn't worth the trouble of staying and fighting.

Nobody had ever deigned her worthy of fighting for.

With a forlorn sigh, she grips her purse tighter better climbing the stairs to the school entrance. She only has one class to get through today, before she could escape to her room and ruminate on how to inform Joon-young that she couldn't do this anymore.

Arriving a few minutes early to class, she takes her seat closer to her front away from the gossiping girls who had been waving her over. She had no desire to listen to their backhanded comments on her lack of talent or unbelievable relationship, their words only added fuel to the vicious thoughts already cycling in her brain.

Pretending not to hear them beckoning her over, she looks at the professor with more focus than she's currently capable of, turning a blind eye to her surroundings.

Time crawls by like molasses poured from a jar, before the professor dismisses the class causing students to bolt from their seats, she being one of the first. He typically waits for her after this class and she has very little time to flee without him catching her, ignoring the calls of her name once more she takes her leave, violin thumping a dull pain on her back.

Cracking the door open she peeks outside, a sliver of her head breaching the opening, a sigh of relief falling from her lips when she meets a vacant spot. Stepping out further she glances around, but he is nowhere to be seen, the hallways empty besides students trekking to their next classes.

Her chest aches traitorously but she internally berates herself, this is good I don't want to see him, her heart ripples at the lie, refusing to engage in this façade that she's forcing. Clutching at her chest she takes one trembling step, then another before finding her resolve and racing to the door.

So close, almost there, come on.

Hand reaching for the handle, she twists it pushing it open seconds away from freedom.

"Song-ah!" Her skin prickles from his deep baritone, his tone wrapping her in a honeyed cocoon. She hesitates, fingers twitching on the cold smooth metal.

"Song-ah, wait!" The desperation in his voice halts her escape, unable to abandon him when his voice reveals so much about how he's feeling. She loathes the mere concept of being someone who hurts him.

Reinforcing her now wavering resolve she slowly spins around, their eyes meeting in a clash, his own shining brightly as he peers into her soul. Her breath hitches as she watches him step closer to her, suddenly there isn't enough oxygen in the room, her lungs wheeze at the atmospheric change.

His beautiful hands gradually elevate, millimeters from her skin, as he begs for permission with his smoldering dark eyes.

She almost accepts defeat, before Jung-kyung's smug sour face flashes in her mind. Dousing her with icy cold realization, they just aren't meant to be.

She draws away from his searching fingers, stepping just out of his reach.

Hurt blazes across his handsome face, hardening in his eyes.

"Why have you been ignoring my calls and messages?"

He goes straight for the jugular, not pussyfooting around the elephant in the room.

"I've been busy practicing." She responds weakly, recoiling under his hard glint.

He steps forward once more, instinctively she retreats, the demure mouse to his assertive cat.

He sighs, stepping back his shoulder sagging in disappointment.

"What's wrong? Why won't you even let me come close to you? Why are you ignoring me?"

This is the moment, the one she's been yearning and waiting for, the perfect opportunity to put this sham to an end. Her mouth opens and closes as she pushes herself to be courageous for once, do the right thing and put both of them out of their misery.

You look better with her. I don't deserve you. I'm not good enough. Not strong enough. Leave. Leave me.

Please.

But, she can't. Can't get her mouth to say any of those truths. Fear and heartbreak render her immobile and cowardice takes center stage instead, ready for its solo.

"I...I...." He looks at her with warm eyes, pleading with her to finish her sentence, hope settled in the lines of his skin.

"I have to go."

"Song-ah!"

Her breath doesn't return until she's shaking on her seat at the bus stop. He hadn't chased her. Maybe he had just learned that she wasn't worthy the trouble.

Her days lapse by as she moves through life resembling a zombie, obsessively looking at her phone only to feel her heart fracture each time no notifications await her hungry eyes.

She goes to class as normal, no longer having to avoid her classmates as they have moved on to something more entertaining than her relationship. Their piteous looks make her skin crawl, her fight with Joon-young the talk of the town. Now they can freely gossip about her and how they knew it would never last, the pure glee on their faces is grotesque.

She sees him in passing in the hallway but he keeps his distance, never maintaining eye contact for too long. She's getting exactly what she wanted. Yet she feels sick to her stomach, her skin clammy and cool.

The irony isn't lost on her, how appropriate that this would be the one thing she's able to do successfully. Ruin her own life and sabotage her own happiness.

There are nights when her control falters and she stares at the illuminated screen of her phone, writing a message only to erase it with a sigh before crashing into her mattress. Her limps are heavy and uncoordinated as she flails upon the surface.

"Why does this have to be so hard?" Her question goes unanswered in the stillness of the night, as she ultimately falls into a fitful slumber.

Finally pulling herself together after days of quiet anguish, she goes back to her mission to find an accompanist.

She closes her phone as she says her final good byes to the team leader, thanking her for allowing her to use the rehearsal room in the Kyungoo building.

The winds blows the wispy ends of her skirt, dragging the material across the smooth skin of her knee. Subconsciously she tugs at the material, its a bit shorter than her usual ensemble she'd ordered it online not expecting it to hit inches above her knee. It seemed longer in the photos.

A voice shouting her name drags her from her self-conscious inklings, as she spins around to see her potential accompanist.

A welcoming smile tugs her lips up, dimples sinking into her skin with familiarity.

Raising her hand in a small wave, bowing while calling out, "Hello! Nice to meet you, I'm Chae Song-ah, chae not choi, like the vegetable." Explaining before the inevitable questioning and confusion can sour their interaction with awkwardness.

The sheepish grin informs her that she did the right thing, a hand is extended into her space and she grasps it in her own.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Park Min-jae." His warm smiles immediately puts her at ease. Together they enter the building amicable conversation flowing easily.

Hours pass as the music ricochets around the room, her bow light in her hands as she drags it across the strings, flabbergasted as harmonious sounds permeate the air. His fingers move in a flurry across black and white keys, shoulders bouncing in rhythmically as the song nears it end. Their last notes swirling around each other in a perfect crescendo.

"Wow, that was fun! You did great!" He breaks the silence, and his words leave her breathless.

She's been prepared for insults and sharpened words, his praise disorient her.

His wide grin leaves little room for argument so she merely nods, not quite believing him.

He starts to gather his belongings before turning to her, "I have to head out but I mean it, I think we sounded pretty good together. What do you think? Was I good enough for you?"

His innocent question plummets her into a sea of memories, his face at the forefront of her thoughts.

Shaking herself free she quietly replies, "Yes, it was good. You were good."

He lifts an eyebrow but says nothing else at her words.

"Okay, I'm free this weekend. Give me a call if you want to practice some more."

She nods finally collecting her own belongings, then turning off the lights and exiting the room.

The air is charged as the walk side by side and it's doesn't make sense until she turns the corner. Park Min-jae's excited voice never falters as she stands still, eyes locked on the new arrival.

Joon-young stands before her, eyes scouring her face before darting to the unknown man standing beside her. She watches his Adam's apple bob distractedly, as his eyes darken minutely.

"And I think we should..." Park Min-jae's voice peters off as he notices her unmoving figure before noticing that there is someone new.

All three of them stand there wordlessly before park Min-jae cracks the uncomfortable silence.

"Hi, I'm Park Min-jae. A friend of Song-ah, nice to meet you." The and you are? lingers in the air.

Her brain stutters at the possibilities and she rushes to provide an answer.

"Oh! This is Joon-young, he's just a fri-"

"Her boyfriend." He extends a hand but his eyes never leave her face, she feels as if she's being challenged and she doesn't know how to respond.

"Nice to meet you! I didn't know you had a boyfriend, you should have let me know before flashing those pretty dimples at me." Park Min-jae's teasing smile unsettles her causing her to shift under his gaze, unbeknownst to her Joon-young's grip tightens ever so slightly in their handshake.

Suddenly her potential accompanist winces and jumps, apologetic look on his face before he retracts his hand to put them up in acquiesce.

"Sorry."

Joon-young looks at him, the seconds dragging before he nods looking away from again. Eyes for her only.

"Um..so I'll talk to you later? It was nice to meet you." Park Min-jae bows once more, glancing between them both before shaking his head and all but running away.

She feels pinned under his look and rubs her own arm simply to have something else to focus on. Feigning distraction, she looks at the ground; heart clattering frantically at his sudden appearance.

Mumbling under her breathe she finally speaks, "What are you doing here?"

She's completely unprepared for his hands to slide into hers with ease, her fingers curling around his before her brain can register what is occurring.

"Come with me." The please is unsaid but loud as a high C and she nods, helplessly following his lead as he drags her back into the rehearsal room.

The click of the door closing is harsh in the quiet of the room, as he stops in the center of the room. Large hand still wrapped around her own, his warmth drift into her brittle bones.

"Who was that?"

Glancing up at him from under dark lashes she swallows, "Park Min-jae, a pianist. I wanted to see if we could play together. My teacher recommended him."

Humming in response he stares her dead in her eyes, it takes every fiber of her being to maintain the contact.

"Why were you going to tell him I was just a friend?"

Sputtering, she chokes on nothing pulling her hand away to cover her mouth as small coughs escape.

Concern flashes on his face before it's driven away with anger.

She quivers under his hard stare, "I thought....I didn't know...we haven't spoken in days."

Pressing forward he invades her space, jaw tight.

"Do you think it's that easy?"

Mouth falling open in a perfect o, she looks at him in confusion. Lost at his meaning and wondering what is going through his mind, it's difficult to read his body language.

"What?"

"Do you think our relationship is that... trivial? Do you think a few days without conversing is all it takes to end it?"

Anger and hurt color the words as they fall from his lips and land like daggers in her stomach.

But he's not finished, not by a long shot.

"You can't just push me away and replace me with someone else!"

His cry echoes around the room and she stands in shock, contemplating picking her jaw up off the ground. When he says nothing more, simply pushes out harsh breaths and squeezes his fists by his side she finds her voice.

"What are you talking about? I'm not doing...that."

"Then what are you doing? You don't answer my calls or call me for days and now you're here with someone else, who flirts with you right in my face." She collapses guiltily. "How can you not have time for me? I'm your boyfriend, why can't you make space for me?"

Is there any room for me?

Like a wave, all her emotions and pain and insecurities and fears come surging out, his question the blow that broke the dam.

"You're the one who has no space for me. I saw you two that day, you looked like you fit. Two musical prodigies, it made sense. More sense than you and I. I can't do it, I can't pretend that I don't see everyone looking at us. Nobody understands why you'd want me. You should be with someone like her, she's from a good family and she plays the violin better than I'll ever--"

His hands latch onto her shaking shoulders, pushing her backwards until her violin collides with a click into the piano.

She whimpers as he gazes down at her, frustration streaming off him in waves.

"You don't understand how I could want you? I'll explain it, in detail. Listen closely because I don’t want to ever need to this again"

She gulps.

He swaggers closer, arms reaching over her shoulders to rest on the smooth surface of the piano. Brushing against her shoulder before gently gripping the straps of her violin, he removes them before placing the instrument carefully on the ground. Taking the weight from her shoulders.

His warm breath caresses her skin before he cups her face, hands tender on her hot cheeks. Air catches in her throat as she shyly looks up at him.

Almost instantly he smiles in return, dimples greeting her as his smile warms her to her core.

"I like how you make me smile, whenever I see you my heart feels at ease and I feel like everything will be okay. I like how you smile at me, you look prettiest when smiling at me."

Her cheeks flush from his compliments and she turns away embarrassed only to feel his sure fingers on the point of her chin, dragging her back into the penetrating line of his eyes; refusing to let her push him away again.

"I like how hard you work to be better, I like how you never stoop to others level you're kind to everyone despite how they treat you. I like your dimples, I always want to touch then. I like how you listen to me and want to hear about my life. I like that you don't treat me like I'm breakable and you tell me when you don't like something."

Then the air crackles as his hands smooth down her skin before settling on her neck, tugging her closer, she reaches out to grab his waist for balance.

"I like kissing you, I like how your lips feel on mine. I like how you open up for me. I like the little sounds you make."

Like a manifestation, a small shocked gasps tumbles from her lips and his eyes meander down to look at them in response. His own cheeks are scorching, red and flushed too but he doesn't seem like he has any intentions of stopping. Fearlessly pushing past his comfort zones.

Pulling her against his body now, his fingers twisted in the dark material of his button down shirt, he gazes at her adoration pouring from his eyes.

"I like you Song-ah. I like you so much. I don't want anyone else, there's space for you. In my heart there's so much space just for you."

He brushes her hair out of her face, his face open and vulnerable.

"Do you want it?"

Do you want me?

She looks at him as he awaits her answer and wonders what she ever did to deserve this? It seems too good to be true, she has never won anything in her life coming in last at everything that has counted. So how can this be true, how can she possibly deserve something has precious and valuable as his heart?

Smiling in defeat she nods at him, "I want you."

His joy is contagious as he grabs her, strong arms wrapping her in a warm embrace. She returns the hug, face smashed into the soft cotton of his shirt.

Slowly they draw away from each other, smiles not fading and then she catches his incessant gaze on her lips.

"Can I?"

Blushing she bites her lip nervously, tingling under his close appraisal. At the merest nod of her head he's on her, his lips crashing into her own as his hands tighten on their new location on her hips.

Tilting onto the tips of her toes she presses back, moaning as his tongue teases the seams of her closed mouth, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

His taste explodes on her buds as his slick muscle swipes around her moist cavern, he delicately sucks on her tongue enticing her to join him in his explorations. She trips as she attempts to press even closer to him, breaking their deep embrace.

Embarrassed at her lack of grace and coordination she opens her mouth, apology on the tip of her tongue. Before his next move steals her breath.

Easy as pie, he grips tightens on her waist as he hoists her up until she's sitting on the edge of the grand piano.

Her blush is now painful as it rages on her exhausted cheeks.

He smiles at her, disarming her before he steps forward her new position bringing their lips in perfect proximity.

"You looks pretty when you blush too." He teases and she slaps his chest in reprimand but he catches the appendages, trapping them between their body as he descends on her mouth again.

Kisses deeper and slower this time, largo as their tongues roll and plunder. His hands stroke her hair, his fingers traipsing across the soft skin of neck. He suddenly grabs her hips dragging her across the smooth surface until their groins collide and she gasps loudly at the hardness that jabs into her.

They both bolt back, frenzied eyes meeting as they take in this moment.

She's never gone this far before, never even kissed anyone. He is the owner of so many of her first, it's terrifying.

Looking down she sees his straining erection, a long line tenting the satin smoothness of his dress paints. Blushing she forces her eyes from the tempting sight, to look at his face. Momentarily frozen under his look, first time seeing them set ablaze with desire. All for her.

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbles making her skin pebble with anticipation.

Is she okay? She can't quite answer such a big question, her head spinning from everything that has happened. She feels like her skin is going to burst apart and he's the only thing keeping her together, both her destruction and her resurrection.

Wrapping her legs around his waist she boldly yanks him back into her orbit, kissing the question off his mouth. He stills for a moment before responding, devouring her mouth as she opens up for him, slick noises loud to her ears.

Her lips are raw and tender as they kiss making up for all their time apart, then she feels her world tilting as he presses her back onto the piano, lips still swallowing her own until her back meets the cool material and their lips disengage.

He looks at her, her body spread across the instrument like an offering. She feels naked under his gaze.

Then his eyes shift to her skirt, high on her thigh from her sprawled position and she starts to sit up but he's faster to react, catching the edge of her skirt and fingering the material that trails across her thigh.

After thick moments of silence, he gazes up at her slowly drawing her skirt up her thighs, the cool air rushes across her hot skin and she gasps and squirms under his steady hands.

He stops at her movement glancing at her, she bites her lip, opening her legs ever so slightly and that's all the answer that he needs. Tugging the material slowly, slowly, adagio up her skin pushing it over her hips and his groan causes wetness to pool between her legs, she looks away in shame.

He fingers at her stark white panties, she jumps at his first touch on the skin above her undergarment. Peering down to watch his eyes locked on her in awe, his long fingers running across her skin before he stops to tug at the cute little bow on the top of her underwear.

Eyes never leaving hers, he drags the thin material down pausing to give her a chance to stop him, one word from her and this will all come to an end she has no doubts.

Tacet.

He pulls the material down, down before dragging it off her feet and folding it neatly in a square before placing it on a chair to the side.

"Beautiful."

His eyes are smoldering on her skin as she eagerly awaiting his next move, equal parts excitement and anxiety.

Clutching her eyes shut she grips futilely for purchase, before he knocks the breath from her lungs with his first slow drag on her opening, his tongue swiping through the moisture dripping from her. A gasp is punched from her chest, as he licks at her again, deeper the second time almost slurping at her and she cries out from the foreign sensation, pleasure ravaging her body.

"Ah! Joon-young ah!"

He surges at her cry and subsequent proclamation of his name, nimble fingers soon joining his tongue and pushing knuckle deep into her wet bud playing her as expertly as his beloved piano, her whines and whimpers serving as music to his ears.

Using two fingers he pries her lips open, exposing her further to his hungry eyes and mouth. His tongue stiffen into a point he jabs into her drenched hole, collecting her sweet nectar as he swipes across her walls.

She pants loudly, grabbing his hair in warning as she feels a ball tightening in the pits of her stomach, another first as he thrusts into her over and over, her skin puckering up in anticipation.

"Please, I, I...."

As her body nears its crescendo, release blinding her as pleasure flashes blinding white, suddenly he pulls away, she whines from the emptiness crying out for him.

When she opens her eyes in a weak glare, she finds him bent over the piano his bangs sweaty as they stick to his forehead. Gathering herself she sits up, eyes widening in surprise and arousal when she sees his erection jutting from his own fly and his fist wrapped around the rigid ruddy flesh.

He'd been touching himself while tasting her. That had been enough to hurl him dangerously close to the edge. Something like pride bubbles in her chest.

Clamoring off the piano, her heels clicks when she lands on the floor and that catches his attention.

He looks up at her with dazed eyes, looking younger with his bangs skewed and messy, his lips shiny with her condensation.

Taking the lead she grasps his hands tugging him until he snaps out of his stupor, within two steps they reach the piano bench and he looks at it and then her, puzzled before she gently presses his shoulders and seats him on the bench.

It's his turn to gasp as she climbs into his lap, her face scarlet red as his erection brushes against her sacred flower.

"Are you sure?" He asks, using every last bit of control to keep his hips still even as his body aches to plunge into her wet hole, mere inches away the heat wafting off all too tempting.

"Yes." She watches as he grips himself by the base, rubbing the head through her juices and her head falls back from the sensation and then his tip is at her entrance and she holds her breath.

He reaches up to hold her face, forcing her to meet his eye, "Breathe." He commands and as she inhales he slides into her, breaching her tight opening with one long smooth thrust upwards.

Her arms tighten around the wide stretch of his shoulders as gravity drags her further down his impressive length, pain and pleasure warring for dominance.

"Just a minute." She pleads and instantly he stops, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she loosens around him. When she can breathe again, she lifts herself up before sliding back down pleasure knocking pain back on its ass.

Immediately she needs more, lifting up again before slamming down onto his hard cock, wet sounds echoing off the walls and at first he is motionless, simply letting himself be used by her. But then he grips her tight cheeks, using them as leverage as he plants his feet and viciously pistons into her, her shriek deafening in this room made for acoustics.

They crash into each other, as they chase their release, his fingers easily unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her skin before catching her pebbled nipples through the thin lace of her bra. Her soft breasts jiggle as she bounces in his lap, his hard length driving into her, over and over and over.

At a particularly brutal thrust of his hips, she loses her precarious balance and falls back, instantly he grips her waist slowing her descent and lessening the blow, her back crashes into the piano keys and jarring dissonance filling the air.

They both glance at each other before smiling, recalling their last mishap with the piano after their first kiss.

Her sprawled position on the piano opens her wider and without pause he thrusts up into her again, tugging her back to meet his movement.

Light flashes behind her eyelids as he fucks into her, the piano crying out underneath their onslaught. She's too close to care and his frenzied thrusts make it clear he's not far behind.

He pries her eyes open once more, before kissing her. The gentle press of his lips in complete opposition to the hard hits of his hips.

"Please, come." He whispers, begging her and simultaneously informing her of his plans.

She feels every molecule in her body burst apart as she vibrates on the piano, walls tightening around his length as he struggles to thrust through the vicelike grip she has on him before a hot stream fills her up, sticky and leaking, and he melts under her his head falling onto her belly.

It feels..... weird. Not nearly as sexy as it's depicted in videos. But a piece of her is giddy to be so full of him, her blush permanently stained on her cheek at this point.

Gently he drags himself out of her, she shudders as she feels his release leaking out without him there to keep it in. When she glances down pearly white substance is smeared across the keys of the piano.

She immediately feels filthy, complete disbelief at what exactly they'd done and where they'd done it. She covers her face in shame.

Something brushes against her sensitive skin and her eyes pop openly only to shriek as she watches in horror as Joon-young, cleans up the mess between her legs and the piano keys with a handkerchief.

Her handkerchief to be exact.

Grinning bashfully at her he shrugs, shoulders now light as his hair flops on his face.

"I'll wash it later."

Too embarrassed to answer she merely stands up, small smile tugging at her lips as she picks up her neatly folder panty before stepping back into it.

"Do you see now?" Do you see how much I want you? How much space there is, just for you?"

She's fighting losing battle. The irony isn't lost on her, the one time she loses it's the best thing that's ever happened to her.

In the hallway Jung-kyung pounds her fist into the wall, arriving minutes ago to practice with Joon-young for her recital only to hear the loud crashes of a piano keys. She'd been worried about him, was he angry because she was late? Missing her terribly?

She'd rushed to open the door only to stop frozen as she heard moans following the clash of the piano, soft feminine moans followed by a voice she knew all too well. Jealous and rage consumed her at the thought of that...nobody touching her Joon-young.

Taking as deep breath she turns around walking away, she will not give up on him but staying right now is impossible she can't bear the thought of seeing him glowing from being with someone else. This was probably how he felt watching her all these years.

She will be patient and wait for him.

They are destined and his time with Song-ah is fleeting, she knows he wants her. There isn't space for anyone else.

#do you like brahms?#do you like smut #lee young joon #chae song ah #joon young x song ah #piano smut #smut in c major #sourface is delusional #lucky handkerchiefs #cheesy music analogies and terms #I have no regrets

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

If someone wants to know how I can write three chapters in the span of 24 hours... I have no idea, but this is around 5k words, so ten times the length of essay I was supposed to write today. But it is more interesting.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Damienette arranged marriage: part 9

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They got into her room and Chloe locked the doors.

“Okay. Now you explain to me Dupain-Cheng how did you manage to get a mysterious Damian Wayne, the damned ‘Ice Prince’ of Gotham, to act like a lost puppy toward you.”

-------

Marinette almost fainted. She had an urge to mentally facepalm. Of course Chloe would recognize a celebrity. It was stupid to bring her so close to Damian on the first meeting. Maybe from the distance she would shrug it off or ignore this, but now that she saw them interact and could get a better look at him there was almost no denying it. But Marinette would still try.

“Wayne? I have no idea who are you talking about. This is Damian Grayson. He can’t be Wayne if his name is Grayson. Besides aren’t Wayne’s this rich and powerful family running an international company? Damian is not rich. He is just an exchange student…” Marinette tried to talk her way out of it, but the expecting face Chloe was making told her it was not working. “Yes, this is Damian Wayne…” The bluenette relented

“Nice try Dupain-Cheng. Maybe I would even believe you if I didn’t know better.” She stated before walking to her wardrobe. Chloe then started to toss out multiple clothes onto her giant bed.

“Wait! That’s it?” Marinette questioned. She expected… something.

“Well, while you tell me how did you melt his heart I can at least start looking for something utterly fabulous for you to wear. I can’t stand this ridiculous outfit you wear right now. So spill!”

Marinette looked at Damian and he shrugged. “tt. I am not getting involved. You brew this and you solve this.”

“I will get you back for that.” the bluenette threatened with a smile. They both knew this was mostly a tease. Marinette turned to see Chloe with three dresses. One was lemony yellow, one was smooth pink and one was deep red. “Uh… Red one?” Blonde shoved the cloth piece at the girl and pushed her into the bathroom.

“I’m waiting for a tale Dupain-Cheng.”

“Okay. Okay.” This girl has probably the best interrogation tactics I’ve ever seen… “So yesterday Damian joined our class as part of some exchange program. He decided to sit next to me and we exchanged few words. After classes his pen slipped under the desk and he had to get down to pick it up. Lila thought I was alone and decided to threaten me to stay away from him and the next thing either of us know is he held the sword to her throat. After that he asked me out and that’s the story.”

Marinette walked from the bathroom and Damian felt air leave his lungs. She wore a modest red dress that reached a bit beyond her knees. It had long sleeves that ended about one and a half inch before her wrist. The upper part was a bit darker than the lower part, but otherwise there was no decorations. It hugged her small figure perfectly, but at the same time was not restaining and allowed much space to breathe. Marinette looked beyond stunning, at least to him. Pull it together Wayne. You are not some emotional schoolgirl. You are cool and collected. You are the Prince of Assassins. Damian tried not to blush. But then there was another voice inside him. And she is your princess and your wife. Get your game together. Somehow, it sounded pretty close to Beast Boy’s voice.

“Close your mouth hunny or you will catch flies.” Chloe laughed. “It looks perfect, but I think you need one more thing.” She walked to the bluenette who was feeling a bit insecure about this look. Chloe pulled her hair bands off and let the hair flow freely. “Now you look perfect.”

“I… I don’t know.” Marinette spinned around to see herself in the mirror. “Are you sure?”

“Check the lover-boy over there and you will believe me.” Without turning Chloe pointed to Damian who was still glaring at the girl in red. An idea came to Marinette’s head. She would get her revenge faster than she expected. She slightly nodded toward Chloe’s phone that was laying nearby. Luckily, they had an understanding. Marinette turned so she was now facind Damian and looked deep into his eyes. She stood there smiling the most prominent smile she could muster. Suddenly, a flash illuminated the room. “And done. Already sent it to your phone Dupain-Cheng.”

The light finally got Damian’s brain to start up. He looked at Chloe holding a phone with camera aimed at him and Marinette giggled. “Told you I would get back at you for that.”

If it was anyone else, he would curse them, threaten them or just punch them, but strangely he couldn’t get angry at the bluenette. “Worth it.” He stated with a smug grin. “If having an embarrassing picture taken is the price to see you look so beautiful, then I am willing to pay it.” He complimented her and Marinette felt like her face turned more or less the color of her dress.

“Smooth mr. Ice Prince Charming.” Chloe commented. She then took a picture of blushing Marinette. “Now you are even. Close your mouth Dupain-Cheng. You are the one to start catching flies now.” The blonde then turned back to Damian and her face took the standard expecting look. “Now back to you. Care to explain why exactly did you decide to ask her out of all people out? You have tons of girls throwing themselves at you and yet you chose her.”

Damian didn’t answer immediately. He had to think this through. The big factor was that she was technically his wife, but through the last twenty-four hours he came to conclusion that if they weren’t married, he would still ask her out. She was… her. He had no other word for this. But his mother was in details. “She saw me as just Damian. I felt that I could be myself with her.”

“Sweet. Want some tea to this sugar?” Chloe deadpanned. “No seriously, want something to drink? I… I only ever had Sabrina in here and she drank just the tap water.”

Damian was honestly not surprised. Chloe had the Queen Bee personality and they usually only had followers, not friends. But he actually liked the no-nonsense personality. “Green Tea with half spoon of honey.” He stated and walked to the couches.

“And for you Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh… water?” Marinette was still not entirely sure what to do with this situation. Chloe was not herself while at the same time being herself. It was… strange. Blonde just shrugged and made a quick call downstairs.

“It will come soon.” She walked to the couch and sat, motioning them to do the same.

The bluenette remembered that she still had some macaroons with her so she pulled the box and placed it on the table. “Maman and papa made them for me and Damian, but you can have some too.” She nudged the box slightly toward Chloe, who reluctantly took one.

“... Thank you Dupain-Cheng.” She said after a moment of hesitation. Another tear formed in her eye. “I am truly sorry how I treated you. You did not deserve this.”

“tt. On that we can agree.” Damian almost growled. “After today don’t be surprised to see a change in teachers.”

“What?” Marinette almost jumped. “No. Madame Bustier is a good teacher.”

“She is unfit to even be in the same space as anyone below her age. This woman will be lucky if she doesn’t face criminal charges.” Damian held the urge to spit, but he didn’t want to damage anything in this room. It looked more expensive than his room at Wayne’s manor and this was saying something.

“But… But…” Marinette tried to find right words. “Madame Bustier is so lovely. She has her… original methods of teaching, but everyone would defend her in a blink of an eye.”

“tt. That doesn’t excuse her. Sadly this type of procedure usually takes years if school is not willing to cooperate. And yours definitely won’t. Bunch of idiots.” The last part was added in arabic so neither girls understood. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a moment until Marinette decided to stop beating around the bat.

“Chloe… It’s not that I don’t appreciate the change, in fact I am proud of you, but… why? what made you change so suddenly?”

The blonde shifted in her place. It was clearly an uncomfortable topic. Finally, she decided to play an open hand. Deep inside, Chloe wanted to have real friends. She saw how Damian looked at Marinette and how he spoke about her acting normal toward him. When Adrien spoked about things like this she could never understand what he meant. But now she finally got it. It was this feeling of being just herself. “I was lonely. Sabrina left me and became a loyal Lila worshipper, surpassed only by Alya. And Adrien… He cut himself off completely about a month ago. Now he plays along whatever Lila plans for him.” She had a small tear forming in her eye, but she quickly wiped it out before it ruined her makeup (not that there was much of it left). “I… I went to talk with my father, demanding he do something about the liar. But my mother was there and… and… and she laughed at me. She said that it’s utterly ridiculous and if my friends left me it’s because of me and not someone else. But the most painful part was that she was right. My friends left me and others hated me. I was completely alone. It was utterly… awful.” Marinette handed her the box so she could cheer herself with another treat. It worked. “I am so sorry Dupain-Cheng. For the first time I was on the receiving end of harsh words and painful comments. I never imagined how much it hurt.”

“Well, I am happy you realize your mistakes.” Marinette smiled and Damian clicked his tongue again.

“But,” the Wayne heir started, “it is not that easy to earn forgiveness. Just because Marinette is too good for this world does not mean I will let you exploit her good heart.”

“Damian!” The girl in question shouted at him. “I am a grown-up girl who can make her own decisions.”

“You are fifteen and have heart made of pure gold” He deadpanned.

“You are fifteen too. And we are married, so we are as adult as a person can be.” She stated in mandarin grinning at him.

“This doesn’t prove anything. And I am still your husband.” He argued.

Chloe sat there, not sure what to make of the discussion. She was about to say something when something crashed through the window. The three teens starred at the form of Chat Noir. He was looking different. His ears and tail were real instead of accesories and instead of bell on his neck he had only a choker with word ‘Marinette’ written on it.

“My Purrincess! I come to save you!”

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester

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hey-hey-chan · 4 years

Text

The Protagonist - Hyunjin

❀ Slice of life

❀ Warning: mentions of death & covid-19

❀ Word count: 8k

❀ When your best friend Ryujin cheats on her boyfriend who you’re also friends with, you’re stuck to pick up the pieces of their relationship. When Ryujin starts pushing you away and Hyunjin starts keeping you close, you wonder who was a better friend to you in the first place and uncover new feelings you never knew you had.

❀ A/N: i know i haven’t written in like a year?? but i suddenly had inspiration to write. Honestly, I felt the inspiration after I didn’t get picked job opportunity I really wanted (and thought I was going to get). I was put on the waitlist, but it still hurt my ego. But, I had some other good news and you can read on my blog about it, but I still wanted to write. I didn’t really have anything in mind, but I just let my words take me where it needed to be. Also, don’t get used to me writing, I won’t be writing often or at all. I’m not that into skz anymore LOL

------

Do you ever feel like you’re not the protagonist of your own story?

Yeah, that’s how I feel everyday.

Especially today.

“Ok, on the count of three, we reveal our statuses ... one... two..”

“And three!”

I tore open the letter from my dream college, Seoul University, probably giving myself a paper cut in the process.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, I GOT IN! I got in y/n, holy shit!” I heard my friend’s words over the speaker, but I just couldn’t get the stupid envelope open.

“Fuck this.” I grabbed the scissors nearby and cut the damn thing open, revealing a thin piece of white paper.

I regret to inform you that you have been...

I felt tears well up in my eyes instantly at the words “regret” and “inform”, already knowing where the letter is taking me.

“Y/N?? What does it say?!”

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t get in...”

I cried harder, silently, when I heard her moans of agony. “No fucking way! You’re a WAY better student than I am! There’s something wrong.”

I shook my head. I was a good student, but I wasn’t the best personality. I was only in two clubs: acapella club and bagel club. Not good enough for the best university in our city.

“It’s ok. I have plenty more universities I applied to, I’ll be ok. I’m so, so happy for you though! I swear you’re gonna have so much fun!”

My stomach churned as I said those words. Did I really mean them? I didn’t feel happy in the moment.

“Ugh, I hate this... I really thought we would be roommates!”

I set the pristine piece of paper on my desk; I didn’t even want to look at it anymore.

“Don’t worry about it. This could even be a good thing! We’ll meet new people and just widen our group of friends. It’ll be awesome. Plus, I’m too weird for this clean cut college.” I joked.

That made her laugh. “You’re right, they couldn’t handle your personality. Anyways, I got to go to drama club right now, talk later? And again, I’m really sorry y/n.”

I pursed my lips. “Talk later, and don’t worry about me!” I ended the phone call and let the tears fall freely from my eyes.

I knew this would happen.

How could I compete with a chemistry major with a 4.0 GPA and the president of 2 clubs with a bombass personality? I was nothing compared to her.

I picked up the piece of paper and took one good look at it before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it. The soft thud barely made a sound which was anticlimactic. I was trying to have an angsty teen moment here??

Sometimes I felt like I was just a side character in a movie or a book. I was that girl who watched her best friend experience all these things in life and you just stand by them and cheer them on. They are the ones who have a mental breakdown and somehow end up with the love of their life at the end.

That was my best friend, Ryujin.

She was the one that every guy and girl fell for. Her charisma bounced off walls and even made me dizzy at times. And it wasn’t even like she was the “girly-girl” that we see in movies, no no no, tomboys are much trendier nowadays. She was confident around guys and wasn’t afraid to embarrass herself in front of anyone. I was insanely jealous of her sometimes which I would never admit.

She’s funny and adventurous, pretty and athletic: she is everything I ever wanted to be in a person.

She even had the hottest guy in the school as her boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin.

I, on the other hand, was the opposite of her. I wasn’t overly awkward and uncomfortable to be around like the protagonists of some books. I wasn’t even cold and hostile like the mysterious girl in fanfiction.

No, I was just completely and utterly average.

I wasn’t “ugly” or whatever that means. You wouldn’t cringe away if you saw me, but the only guys I attract on the streets are the ones who might follow me home. I was friendly to people I met and was the queen of small talk. I was girlier than I wanted to be and try to put on makeup, but end up with botched eyebrows and nonexistent mascara-- that didn’t stop me from trying though.

I cringed at every horror movie, I hate sports, I love astrology, and the only close friends I have are girls.

Well, the only friend I truly have is Ryujin and all her friends became mine.

Any who, I was the girl that if a story was written about her, it’d be about 2 minutes long. I never had any big failures or big achievements. No family issues or tragic past. Nothing. I was a normal girl with a normal life.

And now one who wouldn’t even be going to college with her best friend who she depends on for her social life. Oh yeah, I was a burden too. Now she can’t even be fully happy because of me.

Great, just great.

I felt a buzz near the bottom of my foot. I sighed and kicked it towards me.

‘Ok i wasnt going to ask you this, but i just have to. did you know?’ -hyunjin

I squinted my eyes, re-reading the message to see if I got that correctly. What the heck is he talking about?

‘what are you talking about?’

‘are you being serious?’ -hyunjin

Ok, now this is just weird. I sat up in my bed, suddenly interested in this conversation.

‘im being serious. i have no clue what you’re talking about. care to inform me?’

I sent the text, realizing this is probably the longest conversation Hyunjin and I have had over text. We often hung out in person in groups, since he was Ryujin’s boyfriend and we did have the occasional deep conversation, but talking like this was new territory.

‘im 100% sure ryu would tell her best friend that she cheated’ -hyunjin

Wait. What did he just say?

Suddenly I was standing, pacing around the room.

‘ok, i’ve officially lost whatever ur talking about. what the hell are you saying? ryujin did not’ I typed in confidence, but realized I shouldn’t immediately attack the victim. I erased the message and called him.

He picked up almost instantly.

“What the hell did you just say?” I heard him shift around, probably in his bed.

“I said, I’m sure that Ryujin would tell you if she cheated-”

“Ok, that, stop right there. You’re saying Ryujin cheated on you?” I felt my head spin.

Ryujin can’t be a cheater. That’s impossible. And plus, she would’ve told me if something was wrong in her perfect relationship.

I heard a loud chuckle on his side. “Wow, you really don’t know do you.” I shook my head, but I realized he couldn’t see me.

“Um, I really don’t, so I would really love it if you explained.”

“What’s there to explain? She came to my house two days ago and told me she was cheating on me with Jeongin. Yang fucking Jeongin, who is, yes, a grade younger than us!”

I winced at his volume. Hyunjin was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn’t a liar. Neither was Ryujin which is why I had no idea what was going on.

“You have anything to say?” He asked. But I was in complete shock.

“Well, um... I’m gonna talk to her about this. Bye, Hyunjin.” I hung up the phone and tossed it on the side of my bed despite his muffled talking.

What the fuck is going on?

-------

“I’m asking you a simple question, did you or did you not cheat on Hyunjin?”

After Ryujin came home from drama club, I was already there waiting at her door. She gave me a weird look since we live a good 20 minute walk away from each other, but yes, this conversation was worth the exercise.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?” She asked with a sassy tone, but I had no time for this bullshit.

“Did you cheat on Hyunjin? God Ryu, just answer the question!” I felt my face turning red and I knew I was losing my temper. I had no idea why I was so upset, but I just was.

I saw her features contort, and I knew I was going to hear the truth.

“Ok, yeah, yeah I did.”

My heart dropped.

We didn’t say anything to each other for a couple of seconds. It was like we were both taunting each other, which she doesn’t have the right to do in this moment.

“Are you serious? Why?” I asked incredulously.

She didn’t say anything yet walked passed me and straight to her door.

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Y/N, I cheated on him, what else is there to say? It’s done, it happened!” I almost flinched at her tone. It was bitter and angry and it was a tone I was used to with her.

“What the fuck? Ryu, why wouldn’t you tell me? And this is breaking Hyunjin’s heart-”

“You know what? I don’t have to tell you everything about my relationship! It has nothing to do with you. It doesn’t even matter, ok? I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

I stood silently, wondering who was this person in front of me.

“Fine, I’ll leave then.”

As I walked back to my house, I couldn’t help but feel like I was stuck in the protagonist’s drama once again.

-----

It was almost 1am when I got back home. Thankfully, my parents were asleep and thought I was staying the night at Ryujin’s like I told them. I snuck in the house and collapsed on my bed. This was too much emotion for one day.

I peered down at my phone and saw the light illuminate the room.

‘So. is your world shattered like mine?’ -hyunjin

I bit my lip. Was it weird to text my best friend’s ex-boyfriend like this? Technically, we were somewhat of friends too. So I’m not breaking any rules.

‘this is fucked up. im rly sorry man, she really didn’t tell me.’ I brushed my hands through my hair and felt the sweat sticking to it. I had walked back in the spring heat, it was too much.

‘Damn, I didn’t think she would pull something like that and not even tell YOU. that’s cold.’

‘tell me about it. we were just fine earlier today, dont know whats goin on with her.’ I hesitated before typing the next part. ‘also, i know we arent the closest and ik im also ryu’s friend, but im here for you bro. this is a messed up situation’

‘Thanks, that means a lot... most of my friends are making fun of me for getting cheated on... with a JUNIOR. disgusting.’

I snorted. ‘technically, if ryujin didn’t skip a grade, she’d be a junior too.’

‘y/n, pls don’t ruin this moment’

‘fine, fine, disgusting, she cheated on u with a junior. plus ur friends are felix and jisung who are also complete insensitive dickheads sometimes’

‘Thank you.’

I laughed. Hyunjin was always an interesting guy to hang out with. Sure we never texted or talked much, but he was always a joy to have around. He was quiet in school, but he was animated around his friends. And of course, an awesome boyfriend to Ryujin.

Seeing them together made me more aware of my singleness. He would open doors for her, give her his jacket when she was cold, pay for her meals, he even knew how to braid hair, like what the fuck? He was perfect.

And then she cheated on him.

And didn’t even tell me.

I rubbed my forehead. I was always a fixer. I fixed other people’s problems, which made me quite involved in their issues even if I shouldn’t be.

‘but seriously though, im rly sorry this happened to you...’

‘yeah ... a year down the drain. and plus, i got accepted to Seoul University with her today.’ My heart sank, even when I knew it shouldn’t.

Hyunjin was a smart guy, maybe a little too studious for his own good. He had lots of fun in high school, but made sure to go home early to events and not drink if he had a test the next day. He spent hours at the library at times and read in his free time, like me. Ryujin always hated it and thought we were too similar at times. Which is untrue because Hyunjin was way cooler than me.

‘If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get accepted’

‘That actually did not make me feel better and made me even sadder because what the fuck?? you’re an amazing student!’

That made me smile of course, the valedictorian was complimenting my intellect.

‘aha thanks, i’ll probably end up going to incheon uni which isn’t too far from here so i’ll be ok’

‘That’s good, maybe i should consider going since half the senior class is going to seoul lol’

I scoffed. “hyunjin, don’t give up your dream uni just because ryujin will be there. you probably wont see her as often as u think’

‘If I decided not to go there, it won’t be because of Ryujin. But seriously, I rarely try anything new and i feel like i’m confined to a small group of people. At least at Incheon, I’ll know less people.”

I sighed loudly. Oh Hyunjin, it must suck to get a mental breakdown right before going to college. It happens to the best of us though.

‘well ok, where ever you go, i’ll know you’ll thrive!!’

‘:) thanks y/n. also, ik we dont talk much, but i really do appreciate you.’

Well, that warmed my heart... and my cheeks.

The fact that I was texting my friend’s ex boyfriend snapped me back into reality. And the fact that she cheated on him.

I gulped.

‘aw thanks hyunjin, i appreciate you too. Now get some sleep! it’s almost 2am’

I didn’t get a response back, and I hoped he fell asleep. I changed into my pajamas and did my nightly routine and fell asleep to thoughts of my friend’s ex-boyfriend.

------

I woke up to several buzzes that tickled my side. I grunted and threw the blanket off of me. I found my phone that was flung somewhere and picked it up. I turned off the notifications to stop the constant moving.

“It’s too freaking early for this.” I moaned.

I rubbed my eyes and peered down at the message.

‘hey im sorrrryyy for lashing out yesterday. i just feel guilty about the whole thing and i was afraid to tell you... also i think im in love with jeongin’ -ryujin

My eyes naturally widened at this confession.

Love? Ryujin dated Hyunjin for a whole year! How could she fall in love with Jeongin so easily??

‘excuse me?? what the fuck did you just say cuz i think u just said u LOVE jeongin??’

‘stfu. just hear me out, he’s a great guy and he’s just... normal’ -ryujin

Ok, time to call this bitch.

“Define normal?” I heard her sigh and adjust in her bed. She’s always been an early riser.

“Just, when I was dating Hyunjin, it felt like it had to be this perfect relationship. We were all friends before and it just seemed right that we dated. He was super nice and perfect and not to mention, hot, but it just felt superficial. I don’t know.”

Well this was new. Ryujin never told me much about the problems in their relationship and I thought everything was going well. Well, until now.

“I mean, I get that, you shouldn’t have to date anyone you don’t like. But, you should’ve broken up with him before!”

“You think I don’t know that? I made a mistake, ok? Can you just get off my back about it?”

There’s that temper again.

“Are you serious? You’re the one who texted ME in the morning.”

“I’m just, whatever.” She paused in between her words. “You just wouldn’t understand ‘cause you’ve never been in a relationship! I just can’t describe it, ok?” And on that note, I just hung up the phone. I was in no mood to play these games with her emotional roller coasters.

I bit my lip, knowing she would probably call me more times for hanging up on her, but I wasn’t in the mood. I was caught in between two of my friends, and I knew who was in the right and who was treating me better.

I saw my phone light up a few more times, which made me curious as to what she was sending me.

‘Hey, do you wanna have breakfast with me this morning?’ -hyunjin

I raised a brow. This was not the message I was expecting.

‘only if you’re paying’

‘deal’

-----

Soft r&b played from the speakers as I sipped from my small cup of apple juice, yes, I still drink apple juice.

“So, how are you feeling?” I finally asked the boy.

He was wearing a black tshirt and jeans and his hair was messier than usual. I could tell he wasn’t getting lots of sleep.

“As good as I can be.” He shuffled around in his chair like he had more to say. “Just, it’s still crazy to me. Getting cheated on... it’s a whole new feeling.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t relate to it.

“Yeah...” I trailed off, not really knowing what to say or how to cheer him up.

We locked eyes suddenly and I grew shy. Hyunjin was always hot in my eyes, even though I pretended he wasn’t, for my friend’s sake. And for mine.

“What did she say when you talked to her?”

I laughed. “She totally flipped on me and told me to leave. I have no idea what’s going on with her right now. She’s lashing out for no reason.” I confessed.

“Yeah, she’s acting more temperamental lately. She always had a temper but this time... this time it’s out of control.”

I nodded, understanding what he was talking about. Ryujin was a feisty girl with lots of emotions. I respect her for being in tune with her emotions, but sometimes her actions go too far. Most guys thought it was hot though.

“Anyways, I don’t want to talk about her anymore. What about you? Any relationship problems?”

I forced a small smile. “Nope, all the guys that were ‘into me’ were trying to use me to get to her.”

Hyunjin took a bite out of his sandwich and shook his head. “Stone cold Slytherin.” I laughed at that one.

“Stone cold Slytherin indeed.”

“You know, Ryu has never watched any of the Harry Potter movies?? Which is crazy because I swear the first time we talked to each other it was about what Hogwarts house we would be in.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, yes I do know that my best friend has never watched the movies. And it pains me everyday.” He rolled his eyes at my teasing tone. “Also, I think that’s because you guys met in Mrs. Park’s English class which I also happened to be in. Remember, we all were friends first?”

I thought back to those days, those simpler times. Hyunjin and Ryujin only dated for a year, but they’d known each other since our first year of high school. We were all somewhat of friends, more like acquaintances. But one day, their friendship just went to the next level.

Hyunjin nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. Ryujin isn’t as nerdy as you.” I scoffed, knowing that was not true. I was the dumbest in the friend group.

“Alright, whatever you say.” I was out of witty banter.

We called for the check and walked slowly to his car. For a moment, we just seemed like two friends. Two kids from school who were eating breakfast together.

But we weren’t really. I was his ex-girlfriend’s best friend. And he was the guy my best friend cheated on.

And we were both losing a person who was ignoring us.

“This is me. See you sometime?” His expression was hard to read and I didn’t know if he was saying this just to be kind or if he actually meant it. Either way, I didn’t care.

“Sure. See you.” I waved at him awkwardly and he gave me a small wave back.

-------

A few weeks went by and soon, Ryujin and I were back to normal. I still texted Hyunjin quite often, but Ryujin didn’t know that. It’s not like I was lying to her, but I didn’t feel like she needed to know. It’s not like we were going behind her back and doing anything. He just needed a friend, and so did I.

The whole world was on lockdown and school got shut down early. Everyone was locked in their homes and told to keep a distance from each other in public. My electricity bill was off the charts and I was living off of Netflix for entertainment. Sometimes Ryujin came over, but she was the only one I really saw. She was an only child, so I pitied her.

“Ok, this one or this one?” She held up two outfits that were completely different. One was a dark green shirt that tied in the front and sparkly paired with black jeans that flared slightly at the bottom. The other was a pink blouse with flowers paired with a blue denim skirt.

I looked up from my phone and sat up on the ground.

“That dark green one, it compliments your skin tone and the jeans are cute.” She nodded and tossed the other on her bed.

“Great, Jeongin will love this.”

“Are you sure he understands fashion? He’s like 12.” I felt a pillow hit me face in an instant, but the comment was worth it. The age jokes never got old.

“Shut up! He’s the same age as me, only a grade younger. You know because I skipped a grade.” She bragged. I rolled my eyes and went back to playing on my phone.

“Okay~ Whatever you say. I’m just saying, your boobies hanging out might confuse him-”

She gave me a glare to shut me up from finishing. I shrugged and looked down at my phone.

“Should you even be hanging out with him? We aren’t supposed to hang out with people during this time.”

Ryujin snorted. “It’s my boyfriend, am I supposed to ignore him? I’d rather die.” I rolled my eyes are her insensitive statement. “Plus, aren’t we hanging out right now? You’re not my family.” Ouch, I’d always considered Ryujin family, but I guess she didn’t feel the same.

“That’s different. We’re best friends and I consider you my sister, since you don’t have one.” I spat. She narrowed her eyes at me and I saw the wheels turning in her head to clap back.

“Whatever, these rules are impossible."

I stayed quiet for a little bit, but I had so much to say.

“What? If you have something to say, spit it out.” Wow, was her aggressive tone always this annoying?

I threw up my hands in aggravation. “Fine, I just think you’re moving on too fast from Hyunjin. You just broke up with him-”

“I cheated on him.”

“Ok, you cheated on him. Shouldn’t you wait a little longer to get into a relationship? It’s ... It’s sort of cruel.”

She narrowed her eyes at me but her eyes softened.

“Look, what happened happened already. He knows I have feelings for someone else. I have to live for myself, ok? I’ll see you later.”

She left the room and I knew that was my queue to leave her house.

I picked up my phone and checked my messages before I left. I only had one, how popular of me.

‘what are you doing right now?’ -hyunjin

I furrowed my brows. His timing was impeccable.

‘um... nothing now. why?’

‘can you meet up rn?’

My eyebrows rose in surprise. Mr. Rule Follower wants to break the rules of quarantine? Interesting.

‘... we aren’t supposed to hang out unnecessarily right now.’ I reminded him, just in case he forgot.

I stood from Ryujin’s floor and started to look for my car keys. The perks of being the youngest sibling is that I was given my older brother’s car when he went off to college. Sadly, he’s back, but we share the car.

‘my mom is sick. shes getting tested today’

I froze.

You never expect those words to come out of your friend’s mouth.

‘where r u?’

------

I got in my car and booked it. It’s like I was moving faster than I could think.

Hyunjin’s parents were divorced and he lived with his father, so I knew he was safe to be around. But still, he saw his mom during the summers and occasionally throughout the year. They were close.

I drove up to his house and saw him sitting there with his head buried in his arms.

“Shit.”

I parked on the side of the road and ran out as soon as I could. He jolted up when he heard the slam of my car.

“y/n-”

I grabbed him and immediately pulled him into a hug. I wasn’t sure why I did it, but it felt right.

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok.” I said before I could think. I wasn’t sure she was going to be ok, or if he was going to be ok, but he didn’t need to know that.

I felt him shake as tears he sobbed into my shoulder.

“She’s so old, y/n. I’m so scared. I hope she doesn’t have it. I fucking hope so bad.” I squeezed him tighter. Tears fell slowly from my eyes as I felt his pain.

“I’m sorry. We’ll be ok. It’ll be ok.” I rubbed his back soothingly and sat on the steps with him when he calmed down.

“I’m sorry for being such an emotional mess right now, I hope you weren’t anywhere important when I texted you. Honestly, I called Ryujin first but she didn’t pick up.” He mumbled the last part.

I frowned, but realized why she didn’t pick up.

“You look guilty, why?”

I thought about lying to him, but what was the use?

“I was actually at her house when you texted me... she was getting ready to go on a date with Jeongin.” I admit.

I saw his face contort and he let out a few strangled cries. I pulled him closer to me and felt his head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I told her not to go.”

“Why? We broke up already. She made her choice.”

He took a small glance at him. His face was red and puffy; his sleep schedule was also not getting better. I knew that because we always texted at 1am.

“I know my opinion doesn’t matter, but I think she made the wrong one.”

He turned to face me and we locked eyes.

Usually with other guys, I’m skittish and sometimes awkward. I wanted to get away from them as soon as I could. But with Hyunjin, I felt at peace. I felt comfortable with him, safe even.

The boy gave me a small smile and patted me on the back. He rested his head on my shoulder again.

“Your opinion always matters, and thank you. For everything.”

“It’s not a problem.” I pet his head like I’ve seen in movies. I don’t think I’ve ever comforted a guy besides my brother. And my brother did not like to get his hair pet.

I guess Hyunjin didn’t either when he shot up. I gave him a startled look.

“What-”

“It is a problem. Why do you run to everyone who needs help, y/n?”

I froze in my spot, not knowing what to say.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess I’m just good at helping people. I like comforting people. I like making people happy.” I tried to cheer him up. I did not want him to feel like he was a burden.

Hyunjin moved out of my grasp and faced me.

“Doesn’t it get tiring though? I’ve never seen you get sad about something. And you got rejected from your dream college that we’ve been talking about for years. Still, nothing.”

I laughed and looked away. This conversation was getting too focused on me and I wanted to shift the topic immediately.

“Um, well of course I get sad. It’s just I deal with my emotions better when I’m alone. I don’t mind people seeing me sad I just want alone time when I’m upset.” That was a good answer.

He wasn’t buying it though.

A calming silence washed over us for a short moment. He kicked a small rock to the side and it trickled down the steps.

“Why do I feel like that’s a cop out answer?”

I was about to give him a snarky response, but I saw the pain in his eyes. He wanted to be distracted from his pain and wanted to focus on me.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just a side character of someone else’s story?” I blurt out. Immediately, I felt like I shared too much about myself, but I couldn’t take it back.

His silence made me anxious. So anxious.

I started to shake my leg, a nervous habit I had. Suddenly, he placed a gentle hand on my leg to stop it from shaking.

“Bad habit. Also, I guess I haven’t before. Because we are actually the protagonists of our own story. Even you.” He peered deeply into my eyes to get his point across. I gave him a weak smile because I knew he wanted to cheer me up. But I didn’t need cheering up, I accepted that I wasn’t protagonist material. I accepted it a long time ago.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re right. I’m being silly.”

“Oh c’mon, y/n. You’re not being silly. You’re an amazing person. Total main character material!” I raised my brow but said nothing. He knocked gently on my head. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

So many things were going through my head. Including the fact that if I were main character material, I wouldn’t be sitting here with him right now. I’d be on some date with a cute guy. And then the whole situation would blow up in my face. And I would learn from it. And everyone would forgive me except maybe one or two people, but I would be ok with that because I learned from my mistakes and am a better person.

But that’s not me. I don’t make mistakes. I pick up the pieces of those who make mistakes. I fix them. I heal them. I’m the one who makes the main character realize they’re a shitty person.

“Too many things, Hyunjin. Too many things.” I whispered.

We said nothing for a while until he wrapped his arms around me.

“I hope your mom is ok.” I quietly said as I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I hope so too. And I hope you realize your worth one day.”

------

‘she’s not sick!! the tests came back negative!! WOOO! party at my house... ok virutal party lol’ -hyunjin

I cheered alone in my room. The test results came back pretty quickly yet it seemed like forever ago when Hyunjin cried in my arms. And we ended up spending the whole day together after I vented my feelings to him. But that’s besides the point.

‘that’s awesome bro!!!! im so happy !!!!!!’

‘:) Thanks for being the best friend i have right now lol’ -hyunjin

I paused at the words ‘best friend’. I knew he didn’t mean best friend, but it still made me smile.

Honestly, it was pretty cool being friends with Hyunjin and I wished that we were closer friends sooner. I guess I didn’t want to get too close in case him and Ryujin broke up. I didn’t know I’d be comforting him and not her.

‘ofc. u deserve happiness hyunjin’

He didn’t respond for a couple of minutes which concerned me. He would usually tell me if he was busy, but he just left suddenly.

I tried not to think much about it so I set my phone on my table. I kept peering down at my phone every few minutes, but still nothing.

I pulled out a good book and started to read a few pages.

“y/n! I think your friend is here.”

I furrowed my brows and closed my book with a pink bookmark keeping my page.

“Friend? Didn’t know Ryujin was coming over.” I whispered. “Ok dad, I’ll be there!” I threw off blanket and opened the door. I shuffled to the front door and opened it. I ignored my dad’s weird looks as he made his way back to his room.

Once I opened the door, I saw not Ryujin, but Hyunjin.

His face was bright and I couldn’t help but smile back. His happiness was contagious, which is why he was so well-liked.

He finally fixed his hair that was getting long due to the quarantine, but it suit him. He wore gray shorts with a sweater on top.

I was suddenly aware of the gray shorts I had on.

“Hey, we’re matching.” I said lamely. He laughed with his eye smile which was his best look. “What are you doing here?”

“Wow, I’m hurt, no hello Hyunjin, I hear you come bearing good news.”

I laughed. “You texted me said good news.”

“I know, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out right now...?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door.

“Hyunjin, we aren’t supposed-”

“I know, I know, but I’m bored! I’m an only child too you know and I only live with my dad who hasn’t gone anywhere. And neither have I unless to see you. I know you follow the rules, so you’ve probably only seen Ryujin besides your immediate family.”

I hesitated, wondering if it was the right thing to do. My heart was saying yes, but my brain wasn’t sure.

“Just go, honey. Just be safe.” My dad’s voice boomed. I looked back and saw him giving a thumbs up.

“Really dad?” He nodded.

“Yes, but sure not to come in contact with any other people.”

I held my pinky up, and I noticed Hyunjin was holding his up too.

“Promise.”

------

The roads were so empty.

“You make me! Feel like I’m living a, TEENAGE DREAM!”

Hyunjin and I bumped to Katy Perry bops as we drove through a deserted city.

“Don’t ever look back! Don’t ever look back~”

“My heart stops!! When you look at me!” I sang.

“Just one touch, now baby I believe~” He playfully poked me.

“This! Is! Real! So take a chance and don’t ever look back~” I finished.

He turned down the volume as we reached our destination.

An empty parking lot.

“Aw, how romantic.” I joked.

“Sorry, not much places were open.” He gave me a small smile as he parked the car and rolled down the windows. We didn’t get out in case other people were around.

I unbuckled my seat belt and turned to him. He was already staring at me.

“I’m really, really happy about your mom,” I said finally. He smiled, I had never seen him this happy for almost a month now, ever since Ryujin cheated on him.

“Thank you. Also, thank you for being there when I needed you.”

I thought back to a few days ago when he was sobbing in my arms. I felt my heart shatter for him. I loved his mom too, she was always around when we were at school and was just a ball of light.

“It’s no problem.”

"Right, because you’re ‘a side character’.” He used quotation marks with his fingers to get the point across.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him. “Stop! It’s true though.”

He looked at me again, his eyes saying “explain”.

“Stop giving me that look. It’s completely obvious.”

“Tell me again, how is this obvious? Because, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but all of your thoughts are yours. You see things from YOUR eyes, your point of view, and whatever. Your life is your life; no one else is the main character y/n.”

I hated when he said my name so much. It reminded me too much of myself. I always made sure to use people’s names in sentences to show that I knew their name and to make them feel special. I knew what he was trying to do. I hated that it was working.

“Look, if I was the main character of my own story, then why would my only purpose right now to be helping yours and Ryujin’s?”

He flinched at my words.

“What?”

I sighed, feeling uncomfortable again when the topic was focused on me.

“You know what I mean. For months now, it feels like all I do is to help Ryujin’s character development. And maybe even yours. She’s the one who makes shitty decisions, I’m the one who fixes them for her. She says stupid things, and I’m the one who makes her apologize. She even gets accepted into Seoul University, leaving me behind. I just feel like everyone is accelerating and changing while I’m static! I’m the same as I was in freshman year, sophomore, junior and now senior. I’m the same person!”

Hyunjin stayed silent while I ranted. My chest rose and fell from my heavy breathing and my cheeks were dusted with pink.

“Also, if I wasn’t a side character, would I be here, hanging out with you, to help you get over my best friend cheating on you?”

He had no response for my words. And I knew he wouldn’t because he knew I was right. I was the push to get them back together. I was probably going to get a text or a call sometime by Ryujin while she begs for them to get back together. Or to ask me to fix this whole situation.

I was right.

“You really think I ask you to hang out so much because I want your help to get over Ryujin?”

His accusing tone shocked me, and it made me nervous.

I tried not to focus on the police cars passing by and calmed my nerves.

“Um... yeah, why...”

He wasn’t looking at me initially, like he was focusing on something outside of the car.

“Y/N, I ask you to hang out so much because I like hanging out with you.” He confessed.

At my lack of words, he kept going and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Just... this is hard to say... but I-I feel like I made a mistake dating Ryujin.” He blurted. This definitely got my attention.

“What??”

“Please let me finish.” The desperation in his eyes lulled me to listen.

“We were a good couple at first, but the chemistry wasn’t there. We never clicked. We didn’t talk about the same things and we could never have a deep conversation. Everything we talked about was so surface level or about her problems. She was fun to be with and a great girl while it lasted, but it wasn’t like when we hung out, even when I was still dating Ryu, we got along better.

We could talk about conspiracy theories and weird things in history like it was normal! You were always the first one I talked to when I read a new book or if I learned a cool fact. I could never do that with her and I hate that I just realized it after we broke up. And when I started to hang out with you.

It was always you all long, y/n. It was always you.”

What on earth was going on right now? This isn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to fix this relationship-

“Ok, I see you’re kind of freaking out. And it’s freaking me out, please say something.”

My leg wasn’t even shaking, that’s how numb I was at this conversation.

“I-” my voice trailed off, like I couldn’t get the words out.

“I have a lot to think about. I’m sorry, I can’t... I-” Tears filled my eyes. I didn’t know what was going on. This stuff never happened to me. Am I supposed to give an answer right away? That’s impossible! I need to talk to Ryujin first and maybe my brother and then just ignore the whole situation.

“It’s fine, take as long as you need.”

The drive back was silent, contrary to what it was before. I regret not taking my own car. I regret even hanging out with him in the first place.

As soon as we got to my house, I got out.

“Thanks for the ride.” I mumbled, because I still had manners.

“Hey y/n.”

I paused and turned around, mortified of what he was to say next.

“I meant everything I said when I said it has always been you. I think.. I think if you think about our memories together, you’ll see that.

I just.. I just needed you to know that.”

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

Then he was gone.

-------

My first reaction was to eat my pain away, but I couldn’t even finish my banana.

Ryujin would never forgive me for dating her ex boyfriend right? That’s girl code 101. Even if she did cheat on him. Or does that cancel out if she cheated?

I downed a cup of water in anger.

“Woah, slow down there, you don’t want to drown yourself.” I slammed the cup down and glared at my older brother.

“Chan, please. I’m not in the mood right now.” I tried stomping away from him, but he kept talking. Like always.

“Uh oh, is it because of your boy? I can beat him up if you want.” I felt my cheeks turn red.

“No! Don’t beat him up. And he’s not my boy. He’s Ryujin’s.” I muttered.

“Wooo what? That’s a plot twist! Dad said he was completely smitten with you though. And Dad’s usually never wrong about boys and their feelings. He’s a therapist you know-”

“I know who my father is, thank you very much! And, ugh, God, I can’t even.” I couldn’t even make it to my room before I collapsed on the floor.

In the blink of an eye, Chan was sitting next to me. “Woah there, okay, this is some teenage angst I don’t know how to deal with anymore.”

Anger rushed through my body at his words. And I’m not sure why.

“Shut up! I don’t have teen angst! I don’t have any problems, ok? Just Ryujin cheated on this guy. And now I don’t know what to do!”

Chan was silent for a moment, unusual for a person like him.

“What? What do you mean what do you do?”

“I mean, how do I fix it?”

Chan laughed. “Fix what?”

“Fix their problems, are you not understanding what is going on here?”

Chan stood up, then picked me up. I would usually struggle but he plopped my on the couch, so I was ok with him... for now.

“Y/n, it isn’t your job to fix other people’s problems. How about you focus on your own right now?”

I peered down at my hands, embarrass to tell him what was going on in my life. I felt like such a trader. I helped my friend her whole life and suddenly, I was catching feels for her ex-boyfriend.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I got cut off my a buzz in my pocket. Then I got like 10 more. I pulled my phone out and saw the texts from Ryujin.

‘i think i made a mistake’

‘i dont like jeongin that much anymore’

‘hes not a gentleman like hyunjin!! he doesnt even pull out my chair when i sit or open doors for me. plus jeongin is lowkey childish and he is always pulling pranks on me!’

‘tell me what 2 do?? how do i fix this?!!??!!?’

‘also my parents are fighting again and it’s sooooo irritating !!!!’

‘sos 911 aaahhhh’

“Who is it? What do they say?” Chan asked curiously. I shoved him away from reading my phone.

“They’re from Ryujin. She’s already regretting dating Jeongin. The guy she cheated with Hyunjin on.” I wasn’t sure the sentence made sense, but Chan would understand.

Chan’s eyes widened. “Damn, dick move.” I gritted my teeth.

“And now, she misses Hyunjin. She says Jeongin doesn’t compare to Hyunjin who is nice and a gentleman. And her parents are fighting again. I got to go help.” I stood up to grab my keys, but Chan stopped me.

“Tell me why you were upset earlier.”

His stern voice shook me.

“Y/n, tell me.”

Suddenly, my tears were unable to hide and fell freely onto my cheeks. Chan’s face didn’t soften, but he let go of my arm.

“Tell-”

“Fine! Hyunjin told me he liked me. And that he regretted ever dating Ryujin.”

I fell down on the couch while Chan held me close. He pet my head, like I did to Hyunjin earlier. I guess that was a good comforting tactic.

“And now, Ryujin wants him back. What am I supposed to do?” I whispered.

“Do you like him back?”

I paused.

Did I like him back? I wasn’t sure...

Chan patted my back and stood. “I’m gonna make us some lunch, sit here and think about it. And don’t you dare think about responding to those texts.”

Hwang Hyunjin.

We’ve been in school together since we were kids. We saw each other grow up. We were never close, but we wouldn’t be awkward if we were paired together in a project.

He was always nice to me. He would remember my name contrary to all the boys in our grade. I faded into the background, especially when I became friends with Ryujin in the sixth grade.

We were in acapella together and we were always in the same friend groups, especially when Ryujin and Hyunjin got closer.

Everyone would yell and shout at us if we started talking about a book we just read or conspiracy theory we saw online. Or when we were both contemplating being vegan when we saw a deer get hit by a truck.

He was the one who encouraged me to wear makeup even if Ryujin told me I was shit at it. He was the one who told me I could join acapella even if I was too shy to be on stage, because he was too. He was the one who dressed up as Harry Potter characters with me when no one else wanted to. He was the one I went to when I wanted to talk about the things I loved most.

He was the one... He was the one all along.

“Oh my god. It’s always been Hyunjin. Oh my god.”

Chan set down a crappy sandwich in front of me, but I was on a mission.

“You figure it out?”

“Yes, yes I did! But what do I tell Ryujin?”

Chan scoffed. “What do you tell Ryujin? She’s the one who cheated on him. And she’s always been a crappy friend to you.” I frowned. Ryujin wasn’t the best friend, but she was my best friend...

“If she’s truly your best friend, she’ll forgive you for this. So go, go get your manz.” I cringed at his language. He was not as young as he thought.

Then, I realized something.

I looked at Chan who was just sitting on the couch, cheering me on.

“Oh my god, you’re a side character in my story.”

The made him pause before he took a bit. “Uh, ok? Aren’t we all each other’s side characters? The protag will always be ourselves, dork. Now go!”

I ran out the door and checked my phone. Those can be dealt with later. Or right now. I’m not sure. Maybe at the same time.

I jumped in my car and called Ryujin and put her on speaker.

“Hello? Y/n?? Where have you been, I texted you like 20 minutes ago! I said SOS!”

“Am I your best friend?”

“W-what? Where is this coming from? Yes, of course you are-”

“Then you’ll forgive me for anything right?”

She paused.

“Maybe. I’m not sure, you’ve never really done anything wrong.”

I gulped. You can’t back down now.

“Is everything ok, y/n?”

“I have something to tell you. And you’re going to hate me for it.”

“What?”

There was silence.

“What, y/n, seriously-”

“I have feelings for Hyunjin!” I shouted.

Dead silence. I could hear the few cars driving in my neighborhood and kids laughing outside. The silence was terrifying.

“You what?”

“I have feelings for Hyunjin. Your ex-boyfriend.”

I heard shuffling on the other side.

“Y-you can’t. He’s my ex-boyfriend. That’s breaking girl code, and I am not over him. What the hell, y/n?”

I felt tears fall from my eyes. This is not how I wanted this to go. But this is what I expected.

“I’m sorry. But my whole life, I have been living for you. Ever since I met you. And this time, I have to do things for myself. I’m sorry but I- I want to be selfish and I want to make mistakes that you’re gonna have to decide if you forgive me for.

I want to be the main character of my story right now.”

“Y/n, wait-”

I hung up the phone. I couldn’t let her get in the way of me living for me. Even if it was selfish and bitchy. I need to make mistakes to grow. And I haven’t made many ground breaking mistakes in the past, but this one feels pretty good.

I parked outside of Hyunjin’s house and ran up the steps.

Before I could knock on my door, it opened revealing a disheveled Hyunjin.

“You came.”

I was shocked at his sudden appearance, but nodded.

“I did, um, how did you get to the door so quickly?”

“I was waiting.” A cute blush danced across his face.

How have I not seen him before? For how I truly feel about him?

For a minute, we didn’t know what to say.

“I-”

We laughed.

“You first,” he said.

I cleared my throat.

“Hyunjin, um, I’m not very good at speeches to declare my feelings. Most likely because I’ve suppressed them over the years and haven’t shown them to anybody.

I’m dumb and stupid and now I’m selfish because I don’t care what anyone thinks right now because I realized that I am falling in love with you.”

His eyes grew to the size of his hand at my words.

“What?”

I laughed nervously.

“Um, I was .. I was talking to my brother. And I just realized that every moment in my life that I was insecure or unsure of something, you helped me through it. And when I just wanted to talk about something nerdy like a book or a poem that made me cry, I wanted to talk to you.

It really has been you all along.” I whispered the last sentence, but I knew he heard it.

He took my hands and wrapped them around his waist.

“I’m falling in love with you too. I think I always have been a little, which sounds fucking up since I dated Ryujin. But I think we both knew we weren’t right for each other.”

I nodded, feeling safe in his embrace.

Then, I felt him hold my face and bent down to kiss me. His lips were soft and it felt like he was hesitant. Before I lost the courage, I pulled him closer. I could feel his smile across my lips.

He made my heart flutter like I was reading a cute romance novel.

Except I was in the romance novel now.

And I was the protagonist.

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disneychannie · 4 years

Text

Let’s talk about love | l.mark

Pairings: mark lee x reader

Word count: 3.36k words

Genre: fluff // college au! (my fave)

Warnings: cursing

Summary: Though Mark Lee isn’t necessarily the most charming person on enough, he still wanted to be his first kiss to be as special. After the small encountered he had with you, he has never been so determined to love someone this hard before.

A/n: Sorry if this is messy I don’t even know what this is but enjoy...also this is not proofread as per usual

Mark was said to be quite vague as many would say.

He wasn’t one to know how to express his feelings perhaps only in certain ways that would always come out as awkward.

Yes, he was known to be the most attractive amongst the campus and even during high school. Despite having girls and guys confessing to him, he would nicely and awkwardly turn them down because believe it or not, falling in love was one of the things he was the most scared of.

It wasn’t one of those typical scenarios where he gets heart-broken by the love of his life but it was frankly him being completely clueless about falling in love.

He had always thought there were some kind of rule of falling in love or maybe a guide to teach him about flirting. It wasn’t his forte but the thought about falling in love intrigues him in a way. Watching his close friends having their own partners itched him even more to find himself a girl.

There’s just one thing, he completely sucks at flirting.

It would either come out as rude or just plain awkward. Till then, he would never put himself in that situation again and go on another date. Such a shame how all most of his dates ended up being his shyness as a turned off and completely bummed him out completely.

In fact, he had never kissed anyone before. There were some who he went out on a date with who tried to take his “first-kiss virginity” away, but he would always turn them down and make the situation even awkward than it was.

He wanted his first kiss to be perfect. The perfect girl, the perfect setting, everything. He wanted it to be romantic and memorable, like how all first kisses should be. It did sound like he was asking too much but he always thought he would only dream of having a perfect first kiss.

It was his 3rd year of college and he could not wait to survive one more year here and finally finish his degree. Music was everything to him. Producing, writing, singing, rapping, that was his ACTUAL forte. He got praised a lot by teachers, friends and random students about his music. He worked a lot with his senior Taeyong who he then befriend, definitely learning a lot more about music from the older.

Consistently, Mark had a reputation for never having the write’s block issue till one day. He couldn’t thought of anything to write and ideas of producing and it was driving him crazy. Nights spent wasting his time staring at the blank piece of paper in front of him, hoping that something, just something that would come in mind.

It was one of those nights for him. The dormitory he shared with his best friend Donghyuck who was a year younger than him. Despite them being in different majors, in reality they had so much in common.

He was sat on his desk, the small table light he had lighting up the dark room as he tried to come up with at least a line of lyrics. The coffee he had by his side wasn’t doing wonders and he was definitely coming on short of it. He was indeed sleepy but the assignment was due in two weeks and he couldn’t afford to sleep now.

Deciding on whether or not he would break curfew and take a walk around campus, he eventually did and left with his jacket. Winter was coming around and he didn’t want to catch a cold to add in to his list of problems. Thank the lord that usually there weren’t any security who would check out this late of the night which then would be pointless for the university to set up a curfew.

He usually had his earphone in all the time to get inspirations but this time he didn’t. Opting in just taking a walk to clear his mind out from all the shit he had to do. It drove Mark absolutely insane having to think about his assignment and taking a little breather is something he needed.

The campus grounds was as expected, quiet. The only sound that were audible were his sneakers and the sounds of crickets. He even walked around inside one of the dark buildings thanks to the moonlight that illuminating the halls of the building. I guess this was what he just needed. He felt fresh but apparently not fresh enough to come out with a line of lyrics.

He went deeper into the building where the music rooms were located and was met with the soft tunes of the piano. His heart beat quickened as he made his way to the instrument room, where every music major kids would go to practice.

The sounds of the piano became louder as he got closer and from the small window that the door had, he could see a figure sitting on the piano stool, their fingers brushing effortlessly against the piano tiles. He couldn’t make out who it was but he was too mesmerised but the skills the figure had and it excited him in a way.

He noticed the song as a famous piece that he heard Taeil played before and it felt different when it was played by the person playing it at the moment. He thought he would’ve gotten away without getting caught when his phone started to ring which rang throughout the hall and made the stranger abruptly stop playing. His eyes went wide as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and saw that it was Donghyuck, who probably noticed that he wasn’t In the dorms. He cursed at himself and quickly went and shut the ringer off.

You on the other hand heard the ringtone. At one point you got scared because you’ve been sneaking out like this for the whole year now and it was weird that suddenly now there was someone who’s awake like you on the campus ground.

Getting up from the seat you walked to the door and from the small window attached to the door you could see a mop of brunette hair peaking. The person must’ve tried to hide themselves.

“Who’s there?” You said loudly.

Thanks a lot Donghyuck.

He didn’t realised that his hair was showing and he was about to sprint away when he felt the door come in contact with his body, forcing him to the ground with a loud thud.

Your eyes went wide as you went to the boy’s side.

“Oh my god I'm so sorr- wait, Mark?” Confusion was written all over your face as you studied the boy infant of you who was still grunting in pain.

Mark looked at you and his heart literally skipped a beat. It was you, Y/n, one of Donghyuck’s close friend. The both of you have seen eachother before and even had lunch together with Donghyuck once but you never exactly talked to him before, just seemingly you were good friends with the same people. It was weird how you hang out with Donghyuck all the time when Mark is around but you never talked to each other properly before. Just a few ‘’hi’s’’ and ‘’hello’s” here and there but not once a proper conversation. You weren't a music major, instead you were majoring in Chemistry so he didn’t know how you had the access to the music room without a card that was usually only held by the music major students.

It was no lie that you were attractive tho. Mark has tried so many times to talk to you before but him being the shy boy himself, could not muster up even a simple greeting which results in you initiating it first. He would curse at himself for it but you were just too pretty that he gets all nervous when you’re around.

You weren’t a music major like him, instead you were a med student but he knew from Donghyuck that you have been playing the piano since you were a kid and it just sticked around you till today. He just never heard nor knew you were good at playing the piano.

“Uhm, hello?” You waved your hand infront of him and Mark finally snapped out from his trance.

“Uh,” He started before sitting up properly when he realised that you were quite close to him that he could see the small features on your face despite the hallway being dark. “I’m sorry, I just, uh, was walking around and heard you playing the piano and I started to watch you- WAIT not in that creepy way tho I-,” The boy continued on rambling before he was cut off by you giggling.

Ugh even her laugh sounds heavenly.

You then got up from where you were crouching and brushed the dust off from your pants. Offering a hand to him, he hesitantly held it and you helped him get up. This was your first time being so close to Mark that you didn’t realise how he was slightly taller than you making you having to tilt your head upwards a little so you could face him.

“Any reason why you’re lurking around here at this time?” You started as you made your way towards your respective dorms.

He chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling nervous over your simple question.

“I couldn’t think of anything to write and I guess I needed a little breather,” His words comes out hushed without intending for it to be.

You gently shoved him with your album and smiled up at him.

Oh fuck was he going to pass out

“Why do you look so nervous?” You said mirroring his action and shoved your hands in your pocket. “It’s just me, you don’t have to be so awkward,” You let out a small laugh to break the awkward tension.

“What are you doing awake this late?” He mustered to ask after a short silence.

You shrugged and looked ahead at the dark pathway, the lamp post illuminating the little to nothing light to guide the both of you back to the dorms.

“School just started and I'm about to lose my mind, perhaps the stress getting to me,” You whispered the last part.

Mark could relate with you in a way. Despite taking a whole different major from you, he understand the pressure of having to do the best. You didn’t exactly explain more verbally but he understood your point. You were one of the smartest students in the campus and obviously the professors and teachers are going to want you to do your best. Same goes to him, being the best producer and writer for the whole music department took a toll on him and the peer pressure of his professor wanting him to do the best stressed him out.

“Don’t worry Y/n,” He started as you guys arrived at your dorm. “You’re the smartest person I know and you definitely will live up to your teacher’s expectations but don’t go too hard on yourself, you’ll do fine,” He continued.

He was surprised by his own words. When did he suddenly get all the confidence from?

You gave him a small smile and rubbed his forearm which sent electricity to his entire body. He could feel shivers running down his back and suddenly the temperature become a bit too warm.

What kind of effect did you have on him, he think he’s going insane.

“Thank you Mark, you’re one hell of a producer, you’ll do great,” You said and finally brought your hand to your side again. “Thanks for walking me back to my dorm,”

“No problem,” He said returning the smile.

He was about to leave when you called him.

“Hey Mark?” You called out.

He turned around and looked at you with a questioning look.

You tucked a strand of your hair behind of your ear before speaking.

“Let’s hang out more,”

That night, he told Donghyuck about his encounter with you and boy was it a huge mistake.

He couldn’t stop teasing Mark about how he finally grew balls to talk to girls and it was basically a session of Donghyuck telling Mark that he was finally a man which concludes in Donghyuck getting a pillow thrown at his face.

Ever since that day you and Mark have finally talked with eachother a lot now which makes Donghyuck happy because there would be no more awkward tensions between you and Mark when the three of you hangout together or when you are with your shared group of friends.

You and Mark have finally gotten to know new things about eachother every day and at the same time the two of you have gotten closer with eachother. It was shocking news to the rest, two finally see Mark out of his own bubble and finally having the guts to talk to others without having them to initiate the conversation first.

Mark was stunned by his own behaviour. He was always too shy to even ask for help. He didn’t know what made him like this. Ever since he had that conversation with you, his perspective towards others changed completely. He didn’t know why he was never like this with the other guys, probably it was just something you could do.

After that night too, all new kinds of ideas roamed his mind as he finally found lyrics to write and sounds to compose. He was never one to write love songs, furthermore he had never even written one before but this time, he felt like his new assignment should be a love song. Soft, pleasant with a touch of melancholy to it which earned him an A+ and a pat on the back by his professor as a sign of congratulation.

He told you the news about it and you were now ecstatic to hear his project. The second you asked to listen to it, sweat immediately started to form on his forehead and dripped down to his neck. He didn’t want you to listen to it because the song was about you. How was he suppose to tell you that the song that got him and A+ was about you? He then told you that you probably don’t want to hear it since it was a sappy love song that would make you barf. But what Mark doesn’t know was that you were a total sucker for love songs and you were now more intrigued to listen to his piece.

He told you yes you could when he should’ve said no.

For the first time ever in his 21 year of existence, he was anxious over a person. He had many episodes of him getting anxious but never when it comes to a person. He was scared that you would be creeped out by the song when you know it was about you.

He met up with Taeyong the day before he planned the day for you to listen to the song just for moral support. He would go to Donghyuck but he knew that Donghyuck would end up saying some unhelpful shit that would just cause him extra stress.

Thank god Taeyong was all the help he could need.

“I don’t know what to do hyung, what if she slaps me and thinks that I'm some sort of pervert for writing a song about her, what if-,” He continued on rambling. He had a problem with rambling too much that he starts to say things that don’t make sense the slightest.

Taeyong just laughed at the kid infront of him. Taeyong has been by Mark’s side ever since he started college and obviously he knew all about the deal with Mark and the problem he has when it comes to talking to women, he too knew how severe it seemed but ever since he started talking to you, it changed him in a different way, like how he became more comfortable talking to people.

“Do you like her?” He asked the 1 million dollar question to Mark.

Here’s the thing, he never knew about his feelings for you. All he knew was that he liked being around you and want to spend more time with you. I guess you could say that he did have crush on you.

“I do, hyung,”

After the pep talk he got from Taeyong, his confidence level risen up a little, emphasis the little. He was still nervous but he felt like things would go better if he just shows you the damn song.

He opted the meet up to be at one of the recording studios in the campus that he usually goes to and reserved it just for today. He wanted everything to be perfect. He didn’t want to mess things up with you.

He was pacing around the studio, trying to get rid of his risen anxiety when he heard a knock on the door and a soft, “Mark is that you?”

Oh god this is it

He wiped his sweaty palms on the surface of his jeans and opened the door of the studio with shaky hands.

There you were.

You were in simple clothing but you looked mesmerising.

“H-hi, Y/n,” His voice shook.

You laughed at his nervousness as he moved to the side to let you inside.

“I’ve told you this a million times Mark, stop being so nervous, it’s just for me,” You said before sitting down on one of the chairs infant of the computer.

How could I not be nervous when I'm here alone with you.

He took his seat next to you and started opening the draft for his song.

“What am I supposed to expect from this song?” You asked casually, looking at the shaken boy beside you.

“Probably an awful amount of sappy lyrics,” He joked.

Clicking on the draft he then leaned back on his chair as the familiar melody of the smooth guitar riff and soft beats come together. His voice finally came out and you thought that his voice was the prettiest thing ever. It was soft, honey-like with a touch of melancholy feel towards it.

In all words, it was perfect.

You were too engrossed into the song that you didn’t realise Mark staring at you majority of the time. His mind was running wild with what your opinion was towards the song, in hopes that you liked it. You looked cute with how concentrated you looked whilst listening, makes him want to tuck the strand of hair falling on your face behind your ear but he obviously had to restrain himself for doing so.

After the whole 3 minutes, the song finally ended. You were in awe with how the song came together and to say that you were in love with the lyrics was an understatement.

Turning to Mark, you caught him staring at you and usually he would turn back but this time he didn't. He didn’t want to cower away this time. This was his chance, the chance to make you his.

Slowly, he came closer to you till he could practically feel your breath against his lips and he finally closed the gap. He was definitely shocked when you kissed him back.

Your lips moved in-sync with his and he could taste the cherry chapstick on your lips. It was everything he wanted. This was it, this was the first kiss he dreamt of.

He pulled away once he felt himself getting out of breath and you probably were too. The both of you were panting as you looked at each other’s eyes.

“That was my first kiss,” You said in between breaths.

“That was mine too,” He said, grinning. “I like you, Y/n, I really do. You have some type of spell upon me that I’m just so addicted with you and if you can’t tell the song was about you, I want to be with you.”

Instead of replying you brought him back to a kiss.

You knew the song was about you.

#mark lee #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #NCT 127 #nct127 imagines

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blossom-hwa · 5 years

Text

Believe a Demon - JISUNG

two years of darkness is officially over and i’ve got another story! wow look at me being productive what a fucking miracle

@chenle you told me at some point you were looking forward to jisung’s, well here it is! this installment is dedicated to you and @renjunious - dude, i don’t think you know just how much your reblog inspired me for this story. i hadn’t been able to do much with it for like a month, but after i saw your comment, i wrote out the last few scenes i needed to complete this :) thank you so much! <3 <3

it’s a given but thanks again to @chenle for the idea of a guardian devil! the post that inspired this all is linked here, give it a read!

Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon!au

Notes: reading “Trust a Demon” isn’t required to understand most of the story, but it might make some things less confusing.

Word Count: 6.3k

Believe a demon, for they tell no lies.

NCT Masterlist | Angels and Demons

Believe me, Y/N, I only ever wanted to see you smile.

. . . . .

Jisung is eleven. His birthday is in ten minutes.

He grasps the letter tightly, nearly crushing the envelope between his sweaty clutches. He’s afraid the sweat will stain the paper but he also doesn’t want to let go for fear that this will all turn out to be a dream and disappear.

Dimly he wonders where Taeyong is. He promised to come over to Jisung’s house to watch him open the letter. When Jisung first asked him to come over, Taeyong had laughed in surprise, asking why Jisung needed him to open a letter.

“Because if I get in, it’s only thanks to you,” the younger boy had said solemnly.

It hadn’t taken much longer for Taeyong to agree.

A short knock sounds on the door. Jisung answers it, white-faced, still clenching the unopened letter between his clammy fingers.

“Whoa, Sungie, you look really nervous.” Taeyong laughs, ruffling Jisung’s hair. “I’m sure you got in. I’ve known people who got in who were way worse than you and had less than half the work ethic.”

Jisung nods mutely, walking back to the couch.

The lights flicker once. Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Better open it before the lights go out,” he jokes, but Jisung suddenly rips the envelope open with a vengeance. The letter slips onto the ground, still folded in thirds.

For a minute, both boys simply look at the crisp sheet of paper. Then Jisung opens his mouth, heart hammering in his chest.

“You read it,” he says. “Read it and tell me what it says.”

“You sure?” Taeyong picks up the paper, carefully keeping it closed. “Like, are you -”

“Yes.”

Without another word, the older boy flips the letter open and begins to read out loud.

“Congratulations -”

Jisung snatches the letter out of Taeyong’s hand.

“I got in,” he whispers, within seconds of reading the first line. “Taeyong, I got in!”

“Yeah, I know,” Taeyong says, looking slightly miffed. “I was going to tell you that, like you asked me too -”

His words are lost when Jisung attacks him in a gigantic hug. Slightly startled, he wavers for a bit, then wraps his arms around the younger boy as well.

“Thanks, Taeyong,” Jisung mumbles into the older boy’s jacket. A few tears drip onto the worn material.

Taeyong ruffles Jisung’s hair again and pulls the boy close. “Anything for you, Sungie. Happy birthday,” he whispers.

Taeyong remains with Jisung until the crack of dawn when he leaves the house with a last, long hug from Jisung. “See ya, Jisung,” he says before disappearing out the door.

Jisung doesn’t see Taeyong again.

~ ~ ~

Maybe that was the tipping point, the point where Jisung became paranoid that everyone was going to leave him. His parents were basically already gone, but then Taeyong left that day and just… never came back. Despite his promise that he would see Jisung off on his first day of school.

Taeyong had never broken a promise before.

It hurts, even as Jisung stands in front of the doors to the academy, wishing Taeyong were with him. But he knows the older boy must have had his reasons. Even if he doesn’t know them.

So he steels himself and walks through the open doors.

That morning, he makes a couple of friends. A short, bright-eyed art student named Lee Minhyun, and a taller, soft-spoken singer named Park Jung. Minhyun has been at the academy for a year, while Jung has been there for three.

And then he sees you walking down the halls of school in your graceful way, hair tied up, a slight, soft smile on your lips. He sees the way you greet everyone, the respect with which everyone treats you, feels your sweetness envelop him in warmth.

At the end of dance class, you plop next to him on the floor, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “Hey, I’m Y/N!” you chirp. “You’re the new guy, Jisung, right?”

Jisung nods silently, drinking from his own bottle. “Hi,” he ventures cautiously.

“You dance really well,” you say sweetly. “People say you haven’t had any formal training! You’re seriously amazing!”

Jisung dimly wonders who said that, how they found out, and why, but smiles a little shyly anyway. “Thanks. You’re really good too,” he says, gaining a little confidence.

And then the bell rings, signaling the end of the period. “Aw, man,” you say, shoving your bottle in your bag. “It was really nice meeting you, Jisung. You should give me tips on dance! Oh, what’s your next class? I can take you there, I know the school’s kind of confusing.”

“… History. Room 8B.” Jisung internally groans. He hates history.

“Hey, I have history too! I promise it isn’t that bad. Mrs. Park is a really good teacher. Or so I’ve heard,” you promise, picking up your bag. “Let’s go!”

A crush. It’s the first time Jisung has ever had a crush. The girls at his old elementary school were too clique-y, standoffish, or just plain horrible for him to ever really like any of them. But you? You’re sweet beyond words, and Jisung’s had so little sweetness in his short life that he just really wants to be with you as much as he can.

When Jisung waves at you in the hall next day, starry-eyed, Minhyun eyes him knowingly. “Everyone’s had a crush on Y/N at one time or another,” he says later in the cafeteria. “Everyone, Jisung.”

“Even the girls,” Jung quips. And then the three burst into laughter.

“What are you guys laughing about?” Suddenly, you’re standing by the table, lunch in hand, smiling your same wide smile. “Can I join?”

Minhyun responds first, his bright smile making another appearance. “Of course!” he chirps, moving around his things to make room for you. “We were just talking about how everyone loves you, even the girls.”

You snort a little, unpacking your lunch. “Shut up, Min.” The slight smirk on your lips hints at a mischief that Jisung hasn’t seen before but thinks he likes very much.

Conversation flows smoothly at the table, even though Jisung and Jung are a little stutter-y at first, but soon voices and laughs take over and Jisung is feeling a kind of happy that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The kind of happy that he felt when he was with Taeyong. The kind of happy that he felt when he was with friends.

And gazing into the warm, bright eyes of his newfound friends, he thinks to himself, I never want to leave this school.

I never want this to end.

~ ~ ~

Jisung celebrates his fifteenth birthday at Minhyun’s house. It’s nothing big. You and Jung are also present, and there’s dinner, cake, and lots of laughter. When it comes time for Jisung to leave, Minhyun’s mother notices him dragging his feet and offers for them all to have a sleepover.

Loud cheers follow her proposition.

The four of you build a blanket fort in the living room, despite the strange logistics of your gangly teenage bodies being packed into a small tent of blankets and pillows. It’s pretty uncomfortable – Jung’s foot is pressing into Minhyun’s ribs, you’re curled up at Jisung’s side, and Minhyun is squashed between you and Jung. And despite this, Jisung finds himself nearly crying with laughter with you and the other boys and for the first time in years he feels like a child again.

For hours the four of you talk, cry, laugh, and shove each other around in the sheets, talking about anything and everything, crying about how old you’re getting, laughing about teachers, and shoving each other because why not. Pretty soon, the fort is in shambles, and the four of you are crying tears of laughter as you try to untangle yourselves from the blankets.

Jisung catches a glimpse of Mrs. Kim smiling in exasperation before she disappears back into the kitchen, coming out with a few tubs of ice cream and setting them on the nearby coffee table. Jisung wishes Mrs. Kim was his mother.

It’s nearing two in the morning when the four of you finally tire out, gasps of laughter turning into breathless wheezing and playful shoves into soft hugs. Minhyun and Jung fall asleep first, tangled in blankets, and then it’s just you and Jisung and the lone lamp you’ve lit up for light.

“Had a good birthday, then?” you murmur. The light illuminates your face, making you seem almost ghostly.

Jisung nods. “The best.”

“That’s good.” There’s a beat of silence. “I have another gift for you, you know.”

“What?” You’ve already given him something, a leather necklace with a charm of a dancer dangling from it. “You don’t need to give me -”

“Let me finish, Jisung.” You shuffle around a little, and then you’re sitting, pressed right up against him.

His heart begins to beat faster.

“I don’t know if you’re going to like this gift,” you murmur. “But if you do, give me a sign.”

Your hands cup his cheeks slowly, your hands smooth against his skin. Jisung stares into your eyes, not really believing this is happening.

It can’t be, right? This is something he’s only ever dreamed about. You, with your horde of admirers, picking him? Poor, strange, him?

But then your lips press against his and Jisung’s eyes fall shut in bliss and he melts into your touch like it was made for him.

The kiss feels like it goes on for so long, but you finally break away. Jisung feels empty for a moment, but your eyes are uncertain and a tiny, shy smile is playing on your cheeks. “Sorry –” you start.

Then Jisung pulls you back in for another kiss. It’s even better than the first, now that he knows what to expect and knows he should cherish it.

“So you did like it,” you breathe when he finally breaks away. The smile is still there.

“I did,” Jisung mumbles. His cheeks are painted with red. It’s the first time he’s ever done something so bold.

But really, he would do it again and again, just for the intoxicating feeling of your lips on his. Pure, giddy joy has spread through his limbs, and he wants nothing more than to pull you in once more.

So he does.

At four in the morning, Jisung’s eyes finally shut in exhaustion. You stay awake a bit longer, and thank the universe you did.

“Don’t leave me.”

Jisung isn’t really awake when he says this, it’s more sleep-talking than anything. But hearing the soft murmur nearly breaks your heart.

You snuggle into the sheets, curling up next to him. “I won’t,” you murmur.

And then you fall asleep.

~ ~ ~

Every day that Jisung goes to school, it’s like a new flower blooms in his chest. He never particularly liked school before because of the run-down buildings, dark bathrooms, and the smell of cigarette smoke and weed haunting the halls, but the bright rooms and clear sunshine of the academy feel nothing like the public school back in his neighborhood.

Home. The word tastes strange in Jisung’s mouth. Is my house really home? he wonders, trying to pay attention to Minhyun’s rambling rant about some kid in his math class, but he can’t help but think.

No, he decides. Home isn’t his house. Home is where he feels like someone cares. Taeyong used to be home, he thinks, but now that he’s gone, you guys have taken his place.

You catch Jisung’s eye as he takes another bite of rice and smirk slightly in that mischievous way of yours before breaking into laughter at something Jung said. Having caught the end of the joke, Jisung joins in, too, feeling another few years of weight lift off his shoulders. You look over at him in adoration and press a quick kiss to his lips.

Minhyun and Jung yell, catching the attention of many others in the cafeteria, and normally Jisung would shy away and hide his face in your shoulder. But this time, he just laughs, then kisses you.

Hoots burst out in the tables around and he receives more than a few smiles and frowns, but even the lunch monitor coming over and telling you two to quit the PDA doesn’t ruin his mood.

And as he looks around at his friends, and they look back at him with equal happiness and care, he knows it is true.

You guys are his home.

~ ~ ~

“Jisung!” He turns around to see you running to him, hair flying out of your bun, waving around a piece of paper. “You should see this!”

The paper is blue. Your favorite shade of blue.

“Yeah, I know, I ran out of normal paper so I had to print the flyer on colored paper,” you say impatiently. “But read it! It’s a great opportunity for you!”

“But don’t I need to put together an audition tape?” he asks, looking up.

“Details, details.” You wave him off excitedly. “I know it’s a bit last minute, but we can record tomorrow at lunch in Kim’s room. We’ll use my phone, then we’ll set everything up and send it off! If all goes well, we can celebrate you getting past the first round on your birthday! That’s when the results come out, don’t they?”

Your excitement is infectious, and Jisung finds himself smiling. “Yeah,” he grins. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Anything for you, Jisung!” And then you press a fleeting kiss to his lips before running off down the hall, and Jisung doesn’t see you for the rest of the day.

The hours pass, and finally Jisung is walking home from the bus stop, sweaty and tired from practice but glowing with excitement. He can’t wait for tomorrow.

This audition might be his chance to actually move out of the hole he lives in.

The sun begins to fall, and Jisung knows it’s a dangerous time. Despite his exhaustion, he tries to keep a sharp eye out for danger, even though he’s sure he has no enemies. He’d always been careful not to annoy anyone, not to piss anyone off, because where he lives… that could be detrimental.

Too bad that Jisung’s parents were never as cautious as their son.

It is dusk when he is cornered. It is dusk when he is shoved to the ground in front of a shady building, hauled upright, and forced to stare into the eyes of one of his neighbors. His initial struggle stops when he sees those who surround him.

Jisung always knew Hae Jinyoung was slightly unhinged. He had anger issues, possibly bipolar disorder, and long story short, Jisung always tried to be nice to Jinyoung. Nothing more, nothing less. Not friends, not enemies.

He never really thought that Jinyoung would corner him.

“Your parents owe mine money,” Jinyoung hisses.

Oh. That’s why.

“I -”

“Shut up!” Jinyoung’s fist flies into the side of the building and Jisung winces, feeling blood trickle down his skin.

When did Jinyoung get so strong?

“So where’s the money?”

Jisung has no idea. He tells Jinyoung that.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Jisung has a cold, sinking feeling that this is the end.

“You think you’re so much better than us, just because you could leave? Because you could get into that stupid art school? You thought you could leave, just like that?”

Jisung can’t decipher the swirling emotion in Jinyoung’s troubled eyes. He never will – at least, not when he is alive. His mind is woozy, and as Jinyoung shoves his head back into the wall again, Jisung feels something liquid trickle through his hair.

Someone rips his bag from his back, rifling through his school papers. Jinyoung snatches out the blue flyer you gave Jisung, and Jisung has just enough sense left to get a little more worried.

“School of the Arts Dance Competition?” Jinyoung reads, letting out a derisive laugh. He tears the flyer into pieces scattering them to the wind. Jisung slides down the side of the wall, unable to continue standing.

“Ten thousand dollars, a guaranteed admission to university?” He laughs harder, hysterically. “You thought you could actually leave?!”

Everything hurts. Jinyoung’s voice hurts. Jisung wonders if the painful throb in his temple will ever go away.

There’s a shout, and then a million others follow suit. Something hits his stomach, then his chest, then his head.

Thud.

Jisung groans. Blood drips down his face.

“You could never have left.” Jinyoung’s words move slowly through Jisung’s mind. His voice sounds sluggish, as though it’s coming through waves of water. “You can’t just leave.”

Jisung is trapped in his own sluggish mind, flickering in and out of consciousness. A low groan of pain escapes his lips but no one is around to hear him. Everyone has already gone.

Agony.

Your face flickers through Jisung’s mind. He can hear your laugh, see your smile, feel your breath against his skin and the warmth you bring wherever you go. He wants to get up, he wants so badly to stand and hobble home, but he can’t.

Don’t make me leave Y/N.

Don’t make that the last time she will see me.

He was the one that was terrified everyone else would leave. Now he’s the one that’s leaving. The thought makes him fight harder.

Don’t make me leave her.

Don’t make me leave any of them.

I don’t want to leave.

I don’t want to go.

Don’t make me go.

But the pain is making his brain fuzzy and he can feel his body shutting down on him.

I’m sorry.

Jung, Minhyun, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

Y/N, I’m so sorry.

Please, don’t make me leave.

Let me see her smile one last time.

One last time.

God, your smile. Jisung pictures it with the last waning bits of his strength.

Your smile.

I’m so sorry.

Maybe it’s this internal struggle that keeps him alive for more than an hour. He knows he is dying but he doesn’t want to. He can’t bear to imagine the faces of his friends, the solemnity of his school once they hear of his death, but most of all, he can’t bear to imagine the pain on your face.

Please.

Your smile…

I’m sorry.

. . . . .

Believe me, Y/N, I never wanted anyone to leave, least of all me.

. . . . .

Jisung hates leaving. More accurately, he hates leaving people he loves, and he hates it when people leave him.

He isn’t sure which is worse.

First it was Taeyong. The older boy just disappeared from Jisung’s life, and Jisung never really stopped looking for him. Any time there was a rare knock at his door, he would eagerly peek from the window, hoping to see the tall, dark-eyed boy and his chiseled face. But it was never him.

At least Jisung somewhat reunited with Taeyong. The older boy was the one who collected Jisung’s soul when he died. Of all the things in the world, Jisung never thought Taeyong would be a messenger of the dead, but then again, he also never thought angels and demons were real entities.

After Taeyong, it was his parents. Even before Taeyong they had barely been present in his life, but their visits home became more and more infrequent until Jisung only saw them once every one or two weeks. No one ever knew because Jisung never said anything, but it still made a small hole in his heart.

True, his parents had never really shown him love, and Jisung isn’t sure that he even liked them. They just left him with debt and indirectly caused his death, since Jinyoung had found Jisung because of their debt. But still, they were his parents. And they’d never really done anything explicit to hurt him.

Despite what Jisung probably should have felt about it, their disappearance hurt.

Until then, it had only ever been other people leaving him. Jisung swore to himself he would never do the same.

And then he left, left for the first time – left the world of the living for a place among the dead, left loud cities and dirty neighborhoods for pristine walls and pure thoughts, left his friends on earth for angels in the clouds.

For years, he thinks that was the worst experience of his conscious mind. Chenle takes him back to earth once to see you one last time and he unconsciously chooses the day of his funeral. Seeing the tear-stained faces of his friends makes him freeze, and Chenle has to dig his nails into Jisung’s palm to get him to snap back to reality.

Then Jisung sees you, flanked on both sides by Minhyun and Jung, a blank expression on your face but tears still rolling down your cheeks. He wants to run up to you, to hug you, to kiss the tears away and make up for all the times he wasn’t there for you, but Chenle holds him back, a solemn expression in his eyes.

“She can’t see you, Jisung,” he says quietly. “Only some certain exceptions can, and she isn’t one of them.”

For years, he thinks that is the worst experience he has ever had – seeing you in so much pain, being the cause of said pain, and not being able to help you through it. His heart aches for you, but he knows the ache will only get worse if he tries to see you. He really could go to find you at any point, but he won’t allow himself to.

And then he leaves heaven.

Haechan has never had a love. Yes, Jisung knows he loves his friends, but he rarely says it and Jisung has always known Haechan ached for a romantic love. Someone to share his heart with in a way he can’t with his friends.

But by the stars, it seems Haechan won’t ever have a break. He falls in love with the girl he guards, a laughing, quick-witted girl with the same blue eyes as his.

Love between an angel and a human is prohibited. Forbidden.

Impure.

So Haechan is taken.

Tensions had been growing within Jisung’s group ever since Renjun’s best friend – probably girlfriend, but Renjun would never admit it – left him for the demons, with Jeno and Chenle remaining by his side while the other four, including Jisung, were more sympathetic to his friend. But the tensions were heavily veiled, always hidden by a cover of increasingly strained laughs and grins.

Haechan’s impending trial finally forces the decision.

It is Mark who comes up to Jisung three days before the trial and asks him if he truly believes in the angels’ cause. There is uncertainty in his eyes and he looks guarded, even scared, but he really has no reason to fear, Jisung thinks. Ten years have passed since he died, providing ample time to reflect, and Jisung needs only a few moments to think before giving Mark his answer.

Jisung thinks his death was unfair, and many would have thought it reasonable that he be staunchly on the side of the angels. After all, his own guardian angel had told him it was unfair that he had died so early in his life and even apologized for his failure, and those around had agreed. But if there is one thing Jisung has learned from his stint on earth and his years in heaven, it is that nothing is ever fair.

Was it fair that Jisung was born into such poverty while others were born into wealth and affluence? Absolutely not. Was it fair that Jisung died so early when he had done nothing wrong while rich and corrupt persons maintained their wealthy lives for so much longer? Absolutely not.

But was it also fair that Jisung had found Taeyong when he was young, Taeyong, who kept him from going the path Jinyoung had? Absolutely not. Was it fair that Jisung found his passion for dance so early on and subsequently had many more opportunities to break free from his poverty than those who did not know what they wanted? Absolutely not.

So his answer to Mark is no.

When Mark tells him that Jaemin has found a way to escape from heaven, a way to get to hell, a way for Haechan to escape without being cursed to live forever without companion, Jisung’s heart leaps. Eyes hopeful, he asks if the others are leaving as well – Renjun, Jeno, and Chenle.

And then Mark shakes his head slowly, says that Renjun, Jeno, and Chenle would never have agreed. Jisung wants to scream, to yell at Mark, to ask him whether he even questioned them, but deep down inside, he knows Mark is right. Renjun is still hung over his best friend leaving him for “the other place,” and Jeno is staunchly on his side.

As for Chenle, though he is not so antagonistic towards demons as the other two, he still believes in the angels’ cause. He explained it to Jisung more than once, and Jisung understood. But he could not fathom how Chenle’s beliefs would turn him against a friend so easily.

Perhaps he is a hypocrite. After all, his faith in the opposite of what Chenle believed was what led him to leave, to turn away from heaven and the angels.

Jisung thought that leaving you, then seeing you that last time would be the worst experience of his life, but a new contender for the position rises the day he, Mark, Jaemin, and Haechan leave heaven for hell.

Leaving you had been an involuntary act. It hurt so greatly because he didn’t want to leave, and he loved you so much. But leaving heaven was voluntary. And it hurt so greatly because despite his love for the three friends he left behind, he still wanted to leave.

Never in his life did Jisung think that he would want to leave his friends. But that day proved him wrong and his carefully structured view of himself shattered.

He comforts himself with the thought that he had been growing apart from his angel friends for a long time, anyway. He had never felt as close with them as he felt with you. His fellow demons are a different story, but mostly because he has been with them for so long.

Jisung knew you for so much less time, a mere five years compared to the nearing ten he has had with the demons. And yet the love hasn’t faded.

Even now, as Jisung sits, staring at his new tattoo, your name inked into the curve of his wrist, the love burns as bright as ever within his heart. He didn’t want to see you before, but now by some trick of fate, your old guardian nearly failed, and now he has you as one of his assignments.

No one knows the extent of his story except Chenle, and he hasn’t spoken to his old friend in years. And he isn’t about to tell anyone soon. So when Mark asks him why he has such a long face, he lets Haechan make a joke about it and then diverts the topic to something else.

But the tattoo serves as a reminder – a reminder of you, a reminder that you are still alive, a reminder of his love, a reminder of his love that is still alive.

And Jisung doesn’t know whether to love it or hate it.

~ ~ ~

The first time Jisung has to save you, he very nearly almost fails because he is so taken aback by how little you’ve changed. Sure, you’re a bit taller, a little skinnier, face slightly more chiseled, but Jisung still feels like he’s been blown back in time.

And then a loud honk sounds in his ears and he remembers what he’s there for, and just before you’re hit he shoves you out of the way, just enough that the car whizzes by and you’re safe.

“Suriel,” Lucifer says in his cold voice, and Jisung flinches at the use of his God-given name. He vaguely wonders why Lucifer still uses the God-given names when he is supposed to be God’s opposite, but he is pulled back to reality with the next words. “You must take care not to let your emotions get the better of you.”

Thankfully, it’s ruled that Jisung will not serve punishment, that the incident was not close enough to be considered a near failure. Still, Mark admonishes him when Jisung walks out of Lucifer’s throne room, looking shaken but still standing. And since Mark doesn’t know about everything that happened, Jisung doesn’t say anything back, just nods and takes it. He knows Mark only has his best interests at heart.

But by the stars, he wishes someone knew. Wishes someone could understand. And he wants to tell someone but he just can’t. So he goes on, keeping his thoughts to himself.

It’s torture. After seeing you for that split second when he pushed you away, Jisung is torn between wanting to see you again and wanting to keep his distance like usual. It’d be easier for him if he did the latter, but the pull of the former is strong.

So he coexists like this. You don’t get involved in near-fatal incidents nearly as much as some of the other people Jisung has and is guarding, but it’s often enough that he just wants to kiss you, pull you close, and tell you to be more careful.

And that’s also weird, because his feelings are clearly the same about you, but you’re older. You’ve changed. No longer does happy innocence dance in your eyes, no longer do you speak with such fervor, such cheer. Sadness has replaced the innocence, maturity has replaced the cheer.

It suits you. Jisung always knew you would mature into yourself, and he’s happy to see that he was right. But it doesn’t help the ache in his chest.

What wouldn’t he have given to watch you grow by your side and not from above?

It doesn’t help that every year, you go to his grave on his death anniversary and talk to him. He found out on accident – he was just walking the streets that day and happened to see you, and after a moment’s debate, he followed.

Seeing his grave is weird, even from a distance. There are some chips on it and his name is faded and little things are inked into the stone and Jisung feels like he’s violating some kind of code. Some kind of rule. He doesn’t get close enough to make out the words on the stone – he doesn’t want to see it.

You tell him about your day, about your week, about your year, and you ask questions that he answers with words you cannot hear because damn it all, you are not an exception, and Jisung wants to tear out his heart.

Because by the stars, he loves you. And your words just make it harder for him to let go.

~ ~ ~

Jisung would be thirty-two. It is exactly two weeks before his birthday, the same day he died.

Jisung is standing there when you visit his grave – off-schedule, he might add – to tell him that you’re finally getting married.

It doesn’t matter. You can’t see him anyway.

Jisung is standing there when you talk about this strange feeling of betrayal. It shouldn’t be there, you argue, because he’s been dead for nearly twenty years. And yet there’s still a small part of you that can’t move on. But this man you’ve met, this man you’re in love with, is willing to take that, because he loves you so much. And truly, you love him too.

Maybe it’s because you never got to say goodbye, you reason. Maybe it’s because it will always feel like things were unfinished between you two. There was no expectation that Jisung would die so early, so suddenly, so without warning.

And Jisung regrets that. But there isn’t anything he can do about it.

So he understands. After all these years, he can’t seem to let go of you either. He read somewhere that first love dies hard and now he knows that is the truth.

Just as he always did, he sends a curl of soft wind to wisp around your shoulders. It’s the only thing he can do, the only power he has to comfort you.

It’s all he can do to tell you it’s okay.

At times like this, Jisung sorely wishes you were an exception. Maybe you two could have continued things, made things work. After all, that’s what he sees Mark doing, though the elder demon is oblivious to Jisung’s knowledge. He’s seen how Mark’s eyes have softened since he got his latest assignment, how his words are less sharp and his face less pained.

Jisung wants that. He wants it so badly. Maybe, if you were an exception, things wouldn’t have ended so abruptly.

But somewhere, in the back of Jisung’s mind, he knows you weren’t destined for that. That he wasn’t destined for that. And it hurts, yes, but it is the truth.

Jisung watched a drama one time. It was when he was trying to learn Chinese, and one of his friends had to help translate for him. But though he doesn’t remember most of the drama, he remembers one phrase.

You yuan wu fen. Fate without destiny. A couple that was fated to come together, but not fated to stay together.

As Jisung stares at you, kneeling at his grave, he thinks that maybe that’s you and him.

When you leave, having placed the flowers before his grave, Jisung remains where he is, staring at the letters etched into the stone. It’s the first time he’s seen the tombstone up close.

Wonderful student, passionate dancer, and loving friend.

Underneath is his name, then his birthday and the day he died. Jisung swallows.

Scattered on the stone are a few other small messages that are clearly not supposed to be there but that Jisung greatly appreciates nonetheless.

I miss you already, Jisung. I’ll never forget you. – Jung

I’ll carry on your dream for you, Jisung. – Minhyun

You’ll always be my first love. There is no way I could ever forget you. And some part of me will still love you, forever and ever, no matter what. – Y/N

And finally:

We will miss you.

Signed beneath those four simple words are the names of every single member of his dance class.

Staring at the signatures, Jisung wonders. How many people from that class till remember him? How many can still recall his name, his face, his passion for dance? They all loved him, probably, in some way or another, and Jisung still loves them all, just as he loves you. Jisung still vividly remembers their faces, but the world of the living is different from the realm of the dead.

Maybe they have all moved on.

And as Jisung stares at the chipped stone that bears his name, he thinks maybe it is time he moved on as well.

~ ~ ~

Jisung watches your marriage. It’s the first time he’s allowed himself to watch a milestone in your life, and he’s glad he did. Jung and Minhyun are there as two of the groomsmen. Jisung’s surprised but happy you all stayed in touch for so long.

In your white dress, you are stunning. Jisung watches the groom as much as he watches you, though, and is satisfied to see the pure love and acceptance in his eyes as you walk down the aisle. Jisung has always been an intuitive person and his first instincts are typically right. His gut tells him that your fiancé is a good man.

It is only with the slightest bitterness that Jisung listens to you recite your vows, feels your joy when you say “I do,” watches your lips press against your husband’s. Slight bitterness because despite it all, he wishes you were kissing him, but he’s come to terms with the fact that that will never happen.

Jisung doesn’t stick around for much of the reception, just disappears and comes back in time to watch you have your first dance with your husband. And as your husband whisks you around the dance floor – well, more like you whisk him around, since you have the grace of a gazelle and he seems to have two left feet, but it doesn’t matter because fuck gender roles and you’re smiling and he’s smiling and you’re both so, so happy – he sees the pure calm and joy and love in your face and he knows you made the right choice.

After that, Jisung leaves, disappears into the shadows behind a tall column. He’s seen all he wanted to see, seen all that he needed to see.

He doesn’t reappear in hell, as he usually does. This time, he materializes on a quiet field of soft grass, moonlight illuminating patches of small white flowers. He sits down next to a clump and idly plucks one of them, twirling it around in his fingers.

The moonlight shining on his face gives him a sense of calm, a sense of peace that he hasn’t felt in all the years since he left the living world. It is as though a chunk of ice has melted behind his heart, or a huge weight has been lifted off of his back.

This is the feeling of letting go, Jisung realizes. Letting go of a love that was never resolved, letting go of a love that will never be resolved. He wonders for a moment why he doesn’t feel more bitter, more upset. He still loves you – the warm feeling in his heart hasn’t lessened.

He closes his eyes, then remembers the look of love on your face as you danced with your husband. That expression of joy fills his heart with indescribable happiness. And then it hits him.

As long as you’re happy, Jisung thinks, he will be happy also. He won’t stop loving you, but he’ll still be happy. And he’s okay with that.

With moonlight glowing on his face, Jisung smiles, the first genuine smile he’s worn since the day he died.

. . . . .

Believe me, Y/N, I’ll love you forever.

#nctwriters #smtownnetwork #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream #kpop #jisung #park jisung #fluff #angst #triggers #death #angel/demon!au #nct dream scenarios #nct jaemin scenarios #believe a demon #scriptura-delirus

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poisonepel · 5 years

Text

Halloween at Night Raven! ♡ Scarabia

【Halloween at Night Raven! Special ☆ Scarabia Booth】

[Prologue] [Heartslabyul] [Octavinelle] [Pomefiore] [Savanaclaw] [Ignihyde] [Diasomnia]

thank you @yandere-wishes for helping to hash some of this out with me !! I had a huge mental block near the ending rip me--

You decide to go on a magic carpet ride.

“Oh, look!! (Y/n) came!! HIIII (Y/N)!”

You had just barely approached Scarabia’s Halloween booth when Kalim, the dorm leader, suddenly began screaming out at you.

You were a bit taken aback when you heard your name—there were dozens of students already gathered at the Scarabia dorm, frantically trying to rush to the front of the lines; how did Kalim even see you? Much less, recognize you?

But you smiled and greeted him back, deciding to brush this off. Kalim adored his friends. You should’ve known he’d be ecstatic to see you, moreso than these other random students.

Actually, he even excused himself from the rest of the crowds to come greet you up close. Jamil quickly followed him, while the other students in charge of this booth were left frantically trying to organize the masses into clean lines.

“Jamil! We’re gonna fly with (Y/n) next,” Kalim declared. He turned back to you. “Since you’re one of my favorite people, you get to skip the lines. There’s no way I’d make you wait in this!” Then, taking your hands, Kalim began leading you up to the main portion of the booth. You stumbled to keep up with him up the many steps leading to Scarabia’s grand entrance.

“It’s nice to see you, (Y/n),” Jamil greeted, walking up alongside you. You smiled at him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your guys’ booth, though—“

“Wasn’t that why you came?” Kalim chirped. “You’d either get a ride now or you’d have to wait in that ridiculous line; why not now with us? Plus, if I hadn’t seen you, you might’ve ended up with someone else—I wanted to be the one to give you a ride!”

It was true that there were at least fifteen Scarabia students giving out magic carpet rides. Only five of them were stationed with the crowd at a time, while the other ten were at various checkpoints of the designated route the dorm had set up.

You were lucky that Kalim hadn’t been en route when you arrived.

...Or maybe you weren’t?

You started to have doubts once Kalim began explaining things.

“So, there’s two Scarabia students to accompany guests per ride,” he said. “One to steer the carpet, the other to make sure the riders don’t die—be right back, let me get my carpet.”

“Why is there a chance of the riders dying—“ You began as Kalim dashed off.

“That rule is only in place for Kalim’s rides,” Jamil whispered to you. “The others are relatively trustworthy, but I suspected something might happen with him, so I had us do test runs the other day. At least three dummies wound up completely obliterated after they came back from a ride with Kalim, and he lost a few others at sometime during the rides as well. So, I’ll be accompanying you.”

You felt unnerved. “...Why don’t you just... not have him steer?”

“Well, he wants to,” Jamil went on. “And he’s the dorm leader, so he gets to choose what he does...”

“I think I’d rather ride with someone else—” you said.

But you were a bit too loud.

“What? Really?” Kalim had just come back, holding a rolled-up carpet in his hands. His mouth was fully open, brows creased in disbelief and slight heartbreak.

“....” You paused.

This wasn’t fair. Kalim looked so betrayed. You didn’t want to break his heart. But you were also terrified for your safety. Which was more important?

“I-I just didn’t want to bother you,” you lied. “You seem to have lots of other guests who want to ride with you.”

Nobody wanted a ride with Kalim.

“!! No way!!” Kalim insisted. “I can always make an exception for you.”

He then flattened out the carpet on the ground, and took a seat, motioning for you to sit beside him.

You tried to console yourself with the fact that Jamil would be coming along, and Jamil was a thousand times more reliable than Kalim. There was no way you’d be in danger with Jamil around, right...?

You hoped. You really hoped so.

So you took a seat. Jamil occupied the space behind you, leaving you sandwiched between both him and Kalim. You felt comfortable with that arrangement. If anything happened to that carpet, you had two walls surrounding you.

And then, after sending a wide grin your way, Kalim grasped the front two corners of the carpet; it picked up off the ground, the wind started rushing beneath you, and up you went.

At first, you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands frantically flying out to grasp the sides of the carpet. This was the first time you’d been suspended in the air like this before, and you momentarily forgot all your previous comfort about being sandwiched between two bodies—your heart had sunk straight through your chest.

OKAY! You thought. Adjust and adapt. You were fine. You just needed to keep telling yourself that. But your body? In panic mode. Your eyes still wouldn’t open.

Only after you heard Kalim start talking did you open them a little. “(Y/n), look at the moon!”

Peeking up, you were met with the great silver full moon illuminating the sky. Feeling the crisp autumn air on your face, while such beauty reflected on your eyes—for a moment, everything felt surreal.

You looked over at Kalim. “It’s beautiful...” you told him.

“Right? The dorm worked really hard on making this ride as scenic as possible,” he said. “It’ll show you a whole new world~! Hehe, get it?” He then directed the carpet to the top of the Scarabia dorm, and the crowds of waiting students below you turned into ants. Hearing their chattering voices blend into a muffled jumble, and seeing the lovely contrast between the bright moon above and the soft orange glows of the dorm’s street lamps gave you a nice feeling of serenity.

But then the danger Jamil had warned you about kicked in.

All of a sudden, the ride got very bumpy. Kalim abruptly turned the carpet upward, and you were sent ramming back into Jamil’s chest; you heard him grunt, but he was still able to keep balanced on the end of the carpet.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“You’re fine,” he answered.

It didn’t help that Kalim felt very inspired to impress you during the ride. He tried doing cool carpet tricks in the air, tossing his two backseat passengers wildly about. While you quickly got terrified about all the possible what-ifs again, you made sure not to scream, and instead silently latched onto Jamil’s hand like your life depended—which, it kind of did.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Kalim sighed out, pleased that he got to show this to you. “Next, we’ll go see a nice, quiet spring, with lots of sparkling flowers decorated all around it. Remember when I asked you what your favorite flower was last month?”

“Um, I think so?” you told him. You didn’t remember.

“!! I know I asked you because once you told me, I made sure not to forget. We bought them in bulk and put them all around the spring.”

You were too preoccupied holding on for your safety to even comprehend the sweet gesture Kalim had described to you. He spun the carpet through the air, far from the shrinking crowds of students. When the enchanted spring came into view, you were high up in the sky, but you immediately saw the brightly glowing flowers illuminating the dark area. They were so bright and beautiful; no wonder they called this place enchanted!

Then Kalim began the carpet’s descent. Going down felt relatively more comfortable; he wasn’t nearly as fast or as careless as he’d been going up. You kind of eased up—so did Jamil.

You wished you hadn’t.

“Oh, wait!” Kalim sputtered out, quickly remembering something. “I forgot to show you the spooky scenery we set up on top of the dorm! Sorry! Let’s go back for a second.”

And that guard both you and Jamil had let down just a second ago? Bad idea. Kalim redirected the carpet to turn upwards again, and sped off without giving either of you a chance to adjust. You flew backwards against Jamil’s chest once again.

But this time, he wasn’t able to bear it like a wall, and lost his balance.

“Ah!” he yelped, falling back-first from the carpet.

“! Jamil!” Reacting as quickly as you could, you tossed your arms out to grab him. The carpet struggled to keep you, with this added weight, from dipping off the edge, but it held strong as best as it could. You didn’t have the strength to fully lift Jamil, though.

Kalim turned back to look at you both, his expression very alarmed. Then he began to panic as well. “Crap, Jamil!” He scrambled over to help you lift your friend.

But without a steady driver, the carpet began making more stuttered, violent movements, making it even more difficult to stay on.

“Jamil!” You grunted, trying to withstand the jerks and lurches while still keeping ahold of him. You were steadily losing your grasp.

“Kalim,” Jamil said, his voice very calm.

“Hold on! I’ll help—“

“Kalim,” Jamil repeated, a bit sterner. But his voice was out of breath. “I’m fine. Understand? Your job is to steer the carpet. I’ll be fine with (Y/n); you just stay focused on bringing us safely to the ground.”

“O-Okay,” Kalim said, and, although slightly bothered because he felt somewhat useless, he returned back to the reins. You adjusted your hold on Jamil, grabbing further down his arms, even though your own arms felt like they were about to be ripped off at any second.

But just as you had gotten a firmer hold on him, the carpet jolted again. It dipped a little too far to the left side, and you bounced straight off, still holding onto Jamil.

“!” Your heart sunk. Your eyes had shot wide open, staring wildly into Jamil’s; if you were screaming, you didn’t know, because you couldn’t focus on anything but the dropping pit in your stomach.

Calm as ever, Jamil took hold of the situation. He brought his arms around you, clutching you close, and from above you, you could see Kalim redirect the carpet to dart downward. But you and Jamil had already fallen a great deal. Kalim couldn’t keep up.

You squeezed Jamil as hard as you could, having nothing else to channel your energy into.

Maybe, this was it?

Jamil had no faith Kalim would catch you two either. But there was no way he was going to let either you or himself fall to your deaths. So, looking down at the spring below, he flicked his finger, and a gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, blowing you both towards it. The wind couldn’t cushion your fall for you, but it did allow you to instead plunge into the spring.

And so rapid winds rushing through your ears quickly turned to deep, murky silence. But it wasn’t any more relieving, because you’d already gotten out of breath from your fall, and suddenly rendered unable to breathe made things even worse. You let go of Jamil and desperately swam up to the surface, freezing cold and hardly able to think straight. He quickly followed suit.

By now, Kalim had landed, and he was right there to haul you both out of the spring.

“I’m so, so sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to⁠—I kinda freaked out when I saw Jamil hanging off the edge—”

“...W-We know,” Jamil heaved. You both were huffing up a storm as you laid yourselves on the ground, coughing up stray drops of water. The ground had never felt so comforting.

Once you caught your breath, you flipped yourself over to look up at the sky, still feeling uncomfortable with all the experiences you’d just had. Jamil did the same. Kalim, on the other hand, was still a bit frantic; he didn’t believe you two were completely alright yet.

“Are you guys really okay?? I mean, neither of you are saying a word—”

“’Cause we’re trying to breathe, Kalim,” Jamil wheezed. So Kalim went quiet. For a moment after that, the tranquility of the glowing flower-lit spring seeped back into the atmosphere—but then the three of you spotted another magic carpet soaring through the air.

Kalim quickly jumped to attention, hopping up to yell at them. He managed to summon the student operating that carpet down, and you could barely concentrate as you heard him explain the situation.

Then, you felt him place a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/n), (Y/n), are you okay to move...? We’re going to take you and Jamil back to the dorm now.”

You nodded a little bit. You knew you could, but you really didn’t want to move. All you wanted was to lay on the ground a little while longer.

But the next thing you knew, you were opening your eyes again, surrounded by warmth.

You were no longer laying on the ground outside.

Somehow, you seemed to have fallen asleep? You weren’t sure how you got back to the dorm. But you were lying atop a very large bed, and by the sheer size of this room, you knew it must have belonged to a dorm leader.

Next to you, Jamil was hunched over with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around him, a bowl of chips in his lap. His hair was still damp, but he was preoccupied watching TV. Not at all the appearance you’d expect, when the last memory you had of him consisted of him freezing and unable to breathe.

“J-Jamil?” you asked. He turned to look at you, but Kalim’s voice was the one that hit you first.

“(Y/n)!!! You’re okay??” Kalim leapt up, clasping your hands. He’d been kneeling by your side this whole time.

“Why am I in your bedroom...?” you asked, bewildered. Kalim only flung his arms around you, practically sobbing out apologies.

“I’m sorry! The nurses said you were only tired so you weren’t in danger or anything, and Jamil was just done with this whole night so he thought it’d be better to let you rest inside!! So we had a sleepover in my room since mine’s the biggest. And now we’re watching cartoons.”

“Want a chip?” Jamil offered, tilting his bowl towards you. Kalim reached over to grab a handful for himself.

“It’s fun ‘cause all the shows have Halloween specials today,” he went on, switching his passion to the animated characters on-screen. “Anyway, I picked out all the fluffiest blankets for you. Well, Jamil took the comfiest one, but I have more.”

Startled that he was called out like that, Jamil turned back to look at you, hoping you weren’t annoyed by that. He opened up his arm, so that the blanket hung below it like a bat wing. “...No way am I giving this baby up, but we can share if you really want it.”

“Wait, you guys can’t cuddle without me,” Kalim croaked.

So, you moved over to sit close next to Jamil, while Kalim had draped himself across your lap. This gave him easy access to the chip bowl in Jamil’s hold, all the while still feeling close to the both of you. You didn’t mind.

This warmth was so much better than that polar, death-like cold you felt in the spring anyway.

・━━━━✥◈✥━━━━・

[Halloween at Night Raven! Masterlist]

#twisted wonderland #twst fics #scarabia #kalim #jamil #kalim x gn reader #jamil x gn reader #kalim al-asim #jamil viper

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