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scuderiahoney · 3 months

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In From The Rain

Oscar Piastri x plant nerd!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution. Check out the moodboard here!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: none

The greenhouse is quiet in the early morning. It’s one of your favorite things. Before the customers come in, looking for flowers for their porch or vegetable plants for their gardens, it’s just you and the plants and the sun streaming in through the glass. So when somebody interrupts your morning solitude, you’re not exactly happy about it.

Sure, you’re technically open, but nobody ever gets here this early. You’re watering plants in your rain boots, a mug of coffee in your hand, when the front door swings open. You turn to look, the noise startling you.

The man who walks in looks sheepish when his eyes meet yours. He ducks under a hanging basket, nearly trips over your garden hose. His cheeks flush red. You’d be more irritated with his presence if he wasn’t being so cute about it.

“Sorry, the- the sign said open,” he says, backing towards the door.

“You’re fine. We are open,” you affirm, flicking off the sprayer before you drown the petunias in front of you. “I was just surprised to see someone in here so early.”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Almost as nice a sound as his voice, with an Australian accent. He stops backing away. You should probably point out that he’s standing in a puddle, but you’re not sure if that’s really your place.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask.

He takes a step forward. A thick band of sunlight shines down on the top of his head, like a halo. He brushes his floppy hair from his face.

“No, that’s okay. You’re busy, I’ll just have a look around,” he says.

You nod. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

You turn back to the flower trays in front of you. They’ll need pruning, soon. And some of the hanging baskets are getting a bit unruly- it’ll likely be time to put them on sale in the next few days, to open up space for new plants. You can hear the man walking around behind you, peering at the plants. His footsteps are hesitant, and when you look, he has his hands held behind his back. He leans close to read the signs, brows tightly wound.

He obviously has no idea what he’s looking for.

You put the hose away and set your nearly empty coffee down at your workstation in the back of the greenhouse. Then you make your way back up to the front, where he’s standing near the succulents.

“Sure you don’t want help?” You ask.

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing?”

“A bit,” you say, and he laughs again. “That’s okay, though. It’s what I’m here for. What are you looking for?”

He stands up straight, eyes dancing over the greenhouse. “So. I’ve been told my apartment is boring. A friend suggested a plant to liven up the space.”

You nod. A tale as old as time. He’ll either kill the plant within a week or fill his whole place with them.

“But I’m gone a lot for work,” he says. “Like, a lot. So I need something that won’t wilt the second I’m gone, you know?”

You nod. “Does your apartment get good light?”

He laughs. “I don’t know what good light means.”

“Which direction do your windows face?”

“South,” he says, confidently. “Google said that was good. Right?”

You fight a laugh. He’s a bit adorable. Trying very hard to get it right. Like this is a test with right and wrong answers.

“Yeah, south facing is great.” You gesture towards the succulents. “You could get a succulent. They can go weeks without watering, but they need lots of light.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “I thought these were cactuses. Or cacti?”

“Close,” you tell him, and he smiles again. “Cacti are the ones with the spikes.”

He nods in understanding. He crouches down, then, eye levels with the little plants. Your heart is melting. You scuff one of your rain boots against the ground. You could stand here and watch the way his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks all day, but that would be creepy and you have a job you’re supposed to be doing.

“How do I know which one to get?” He says, quietly. “Like… there are so many different kinds.”

Your face breaks out into a huge grin. He’s so endearing. “I think you’ll know when you see it.”

He appears at the front cash register ten minutes later, a succulent in hand. It’s a little one, the perfect starter plant. He’s eyeing the decorative pots next to you, brows furrowed again.

“Those are too big for that plant,” you tell him, and he breathes out a sigh. “There are smaller ones on the other side of the display.”

He moves to look. You hear him shuffling, hear him pick up pots and then set them down. Then he appears again, a little pot with black and white checkerboard print on it in his other hand.

“Perfect,” you say softly. “Have you got potting soil?”

He clears his throat. “Um. No, but I’ve got a courtyard at my apartment with a garden… but I’m sensing from the look on your face that that won’t do.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Then you reach under the counter and grab one of the small sample bags of potting soil you keep on hand.

“Here. On the house.” You say. “So you can put that plant in the pot.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he says. He sets the other items down on the counter. “Thanks for all your help, actually.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

You bag the items carefully, making sure the plant won’t be squished. You put a care instruction sheet in the bag, too. Then you slide it to him with a smile.

“There’s a care sheet in there that should help. Enjoy your new plant,” you say. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” he says.

He leaves, then, and you’re left with your quiet greenhouse once again. It’s odd. Usually you breathe a sigh of relief after a customer leaves. But this time, you almost want him to come back.

…..

Two weeks later, you’re back at your workstation re-potting a sad looking philodendron. You look up from it when you hear the bell over the front door ring. The watering is already done, the hose put away, so there’s nothing for the man to trip over this time. But it is the same guy, and he ducks under the hanging basket the same way. You should maybe move it, but he seems to be the only one who’s had an issue with it. You stand up, wiping the dirt from your hands on your apron.

“You didn’t kill that succulent already, did you?” You call out.

His eyes dart to meet yours, and he laughs. “No! Promise.”

“Good. That would be a new record,” you laugh.

You let him wander the store on his own for a few minutes as you get the philodendron correctly in the new pot. Then you give it some water and take it with you to set it back out on the shelf. He’s still the only other person in the store, and he’s currently eyeing the flats of flowering plants.

“It’s actually going really well,” he says as you walk by. “He has a new leaf.”

That’s when you know the guy is hooked. He has a new leaf. The plant is no longer just a plant to him. Absent-mindedly, you wonder if he’s the type to name his plants. You set the one in your hands down on the table in front of you, your back to him so he doesn’t see your wide grin. When you turn around, you tone it down.

“That’s great,” you say encouragingly. “So I’m guessing you want another one?”

He nods, rubbing his finger over the leaf of a fiddle leaf fig. “Yeah, but I’m thinking something different this time. Something bigger.”

“You don’t want that one,” you say, and he backs away from the fig tree slightly. “Fiddle leafs are notoriously dramatic. If you left her for a week she’d drop all her leaves.”

He sighs and stands up. “What would you suggest?”

You wave him over to another area of the store. He follows eagerly, footsteps splashing in the leftover puddles from the morning watering. You lead him to a section of spiky, tall plants.

“Snake plant,” you say, pointing at them.

He’s standing next to you, and your shoulders just barely brush. A shiver runs down your spine. You try to hide it.

“Snake plant,” he repeats. “The name makes sense.”

“People also call them mother in law’s tongue,” you add. You fight the urge to check his ring finger. “But if you’ve got a mother in law I’d suggest avoiding that name.”

He laughs, and his shoulder bumps into your again. “I don’t. But snake plant sounds cooler.”

You nod in agreement. “They do well with very little water. And, they can do okay in pretty low light, too. So if you’ve got a darker area that needs a plant, it would be a good fit.”

He’s up at the register ten minutes later, plant and a pot in hand. This one is plain terracotta. You like that he’s the type of person to buy the pots, too. Some people just leave them in the boring plastic, and it makes you sad to think about. All plants deserve a nice home. You say that to him as you ring him up, and he laughs. He’s also grabbed a small bag of potting soil this time.

Your repeat the process, same as last time, and hand him the bag. He takes it, and then he hesitates.

“Thanks again,” he says, juggling the bag until it’s held in one arm. He sticks his hand out to you. “I’m Oscar, by the way.”

You tell him your name, though you’re sure he could read it off your nametag, too. When you shake his hand, you swear the warmth of it runs all the way up your arm. He thanks you again, and then he disappears out the door once again. That ache is back in your chest. You find yourself hoping he’ll be back soon.

…..

He does come back. Multiple times. He buys more succulents on one trip, asking you to help him choose between them, and then he ends up buying all three instead. Another morning he comes in and you show him a ZZ plant you’ve just gotten in that you think will be perfect for him- you don’t tell him you’ve been saving it for him at your work station. It’s just… you know it’ll look great next to the snake plant he bought.

Each time he comes to the store, he hangs around a little longer. You chat about the weather, about the plants in the store, about his plants at home. You tell him funny stories about other customers and complain to him about the rude ones. In return, he tells you about his coworkers, specifically one named Lando who he seems to get into a lot of mischief with. He hasn’t said what he does for work. You field weird about asking, so you don’t.

The 4th time he stops by, you suggest a pothos. He eyed the leaves and vines skeptically.

“The other ones looked tough, you know? Like they’d survive even if I fucked up.” He tugs at one of the vines. “Are you sure about this one?”

You nod encouragingly. “You can handle it. I promise. Plus, the cool thing about these is you can cut parts of the vines, like this,” you say, holding up one you’d taken from the workstation. “And then you stick it in water for a bit, it grows roots, and you’ve got a whole new plant.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” you laugh.

He joins you up at the front to buy the plant. You go through the same routine. This time, he’s picked out a pretty blue ceramic pot for it. It compliments the leaves well. Then he leans on the counter and the two of you start chatting. You’d had a shipment that came in last week with a bunch of dead plants, so you regale him with the story of trying to deal with the company’s customer service. In turn, he tells you a story about his family back home- one of his sisters had a dance recital, his mother tried to videotape it for him, he received a video of his mother’s face as she watched the recital. You don’t realize how long the two of you have been talking until Jane, the next person on the schedule, walks in.

You stand up straight, face growing hot suddenly. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, hun,” she says, walking past the two of you. “Sorry I’m late. Bet you’re dying for your lunch break.”

She’s late? You and Oscar must’ve been talking for… forever. It had felt like only minutes. He smiles sheepishly and pushes away from the counter.

“Well, I should be going,” he says, taking the bag in his arms. “Thanks again!”

You watch him walk out the front door, unsure why it feels like you’ve been caught. It reminds you of the feeling you’d gotten years ago, when your teacher found you and the boy you had a crush on in the hallway alone. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but it still makes you feel strange.

“Friend of yours?” Jane asks when you walk past her to take your break.

You blink, shrugging. “I think he might be.”

…..

Oscar always comes in on Tuesdays. You avoid taking Tuesdays off and won’t admit to yourself that he’s the reason why. But when you wake up with a raging fever and a pounding head, you know you have to call in. Jane, always a sweetheart, takes your shift. When you see her two days later, it’s after you’ve already done the opening shift.

“Did you see your plant?” She asks as she breezes through the greenhouse.

You shut off the hose you’d been using to water a particularly thirsty chrysanthemum. “What plant?”

“The one your friend brought,” she says, and you only feel more confused. “He dropped it off Tuesday, said he was looking for you. It’s on the desk.”

You walk over to the workstation. Sure enough, in a tiny plastic pot- likely one from one of the succulents he’d bought-there’s a small pothos vine growing. You pick up the little plant, knocking over the piece of paper propped up on it in the process. You reach for it, finding a note written in rushed, messy scrawl.

I know you’ve probably got tons, but it felt right that you would have my very first propagation. Learned that word from the internet. Feel better soon! -Oscar

You turn to look at Jane. She’s at the register, not paying you any attention. You cradle the tiny plant close to your chest and do the same with the note. Then you tuck the paper away for safekeeping.

The plant, however, you carry with you all day. You place it in a sunbeam at the front register. When it catches your eye every so often, you feel a warmth in your chest.

…..

The next time Oscar comes in, he eyes the little plant at the register. You’ve stuck a little stake in it and tied a bow on top. He smiles softly and turns back to the display of pots. He chooses a tiny one with checkerboard print, the same as his very first purchase. You ring him up for all his items, but when you go to put that one in the bag, he grabs it and shakes his head. He slides it towards your tiny vine.

“For your plant,” he says, smiling softly.

You break into a face splitting grin. “You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush against yours when you take it from him. You swear you feel sparks. You wonder if the red cheeks he sports as he leaves the store means he felt it, too.

…..

Another man comes into the shop early in the morning. It’s a Wednesday this time. You know it won’t be Oscar because of that, but you still look up eagerly. The guy nods, waving politely. You smile and go back to your watering. He walks the aisles, looking at the plants and never picking them up.

“Excuse me?” He says, after you’ve put the hose away. You turn, trying to hide your surprise at his American accent. “Um. Could you tell me where the succulents are?”

You grin and nod, walking over towards the area. You point them out.

“These right here,” you say. “Anything I can help you with?”

He stares at the tiny plants. “I have no idea what I’m doing. My friend, he’s gotten really into plants, and he talks about this shop all the time. Figured I’d see what the hype was all about.”

You tilt your head. He’s probably not, but it almost sounds like he’s talking about Oscar. You try and shake the idea from your head. Oscar is just a customer, he’s not going around and telling his friends about the greenhouse he goes to. He’s definitely not telling them about you.

“Succulents are a good place to start,” you say.

He sighs. “I don’t have much of a green thumb. I don’t think I’ll be very good at this.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” You say with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

He ends up picking out a little succulent. He doesn’t go for a decorative pot. He seems wholly unconfident in his ability to keep it alive for more than a few days. Still, he smiles as he’s leaving. He pauses in the doorway.

“You know, I thought Oscar was exaggerating when he told me about you,” he says. “But I get it now.”

He’s out the door before you can even form a syllable, let alone a word or a sentence. You think about chasing after him and asking what the hell that even means, but you stay rooted there. Oscar talks about you. To his friends. You swear your heartbeat doesn’t slow all morning, and the heat in your cheeks stays there all day.

…..

Oscar comes rushing into the shop the next Tuesday. He has a brown paper bag in his arms, and his eyes are wide. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. You stand up, setting the garden hose down. He nearly slips on a puddle as he rushes over to you, and you reach out to steady him.

“I just got home last night,” he rushes, “and something’s wrong with- with Greg.”

“Greg?” You ask, leaning to peer into the bag.

“My succulent,” he says. His cheeks have gone red. “I name my plants. Is that weird?”

You laugh. “No, it’s not.”

You don’t tell him you’ve named your tiny pothos vine after him. You take the bag from his arms and walk to the back of the store, towards the work station. You reach in and pull out the succulent. It’s a little withered, a bit droopy. It’s also doubled in size since he bought it.

“I’ve been watering him when the soil gets dry,” he says, “and he’s still getting sunlight. I’ve tried everything- I left music playing for them when I left, so-“

Your eyes flicker up to him. He plays music for his plants. He’s the cutest man you’ve ever met. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. Or his lips. He has these cute little freckles and moles- you’d like to draw constellations between them. Your face feels hot again. You direct your attention back to the plant as he rambles on. You frown, tugging slightly to see the roots.

“Osc, babe,” you interrupt, and he stops and stares at you. “He’s just a little root bound.”

You don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve just called him babe. It’s too late now.

“What’s that mean?” He asks, the panicky tone still in his voice.

“It means,” you start, nudging his side softly with your elbow, “that you’ve taken such good care of him that he’s outgrown this pot. He needs more soil. More room to spread out.”

His shoulders drop. The panic melts off his face. “Oh.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t believe when you came in here the first time you had no idea what a succulent even was. And now here you are, all panicked over a little wilting. You’ve become a true plant nerd, haven’t you?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“It’s cute,” you tell him, just to watch the blush creep up on his cheeks again. “Come on, let’s get him a new pot and some fresh soil.”

You lead him up to the front. He starts to pick through the display, holding the succulent up to the different options until he finds the right one. It’s a light orange.

You nod in approval. “Now you’ve got an empty pot,” you say, pointing at the original pot for the succulent. “Which means if you want, you have an excuse to buy another plant.”

“You’re so smart,” he says, eyes wide.

He rushes over to the display of succulents. While he’s picking one out, you carefully re-pot the plant into its new home. He takes his time, like always, indecisive to the very end. When he makes it up to the counter, he grins widely at the sight of the plant in its new pot.

“Thanks,” he says, softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

…..

When Oscar comes into the shop on a particularly rainy Tuesday, you’re trying hastily to hide your tears. He doesn’t come in every week, but it’s just your luck that he’s here today of all days. You wave and turn your back to him, sticking to the workstation. You hear the soft fall of his tennis shoes, though, even over the sound of the rain against the greenhouse roof, and you know he’s making his way towards you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice low.

You turn and find him with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wipe at your cheeks hastily, hoping he can’t tell how upset you are, but knowing you look a wreck. Your hair is soaked in rainwater, and your eyes likely red rimmed and puffy. It’s confirmed when his soft smile drops into a frown.

“I’ve had a shit morning,” you tell him with a sigh.

He pulls one hand from his pocket. “You, uh. You have dirt on your cheek.”

You groan and try to brush it away. Oscar chews on his lower lip. Then he reaches out, his fingertips sweeping against the skin of your face. His hand is warm, despite the chill in the air. Tiny sparks seem to spread across your skin, following the trail of his touch. Your face grows hot.

“There,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

He nods. “What’s going on? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but…”

You sigh and turn away slightly, back to the plant in the pot in front of you. His gaze is so warm that you can’t stand to look at him, afraid you might start crying all over again.

“Just. Woke up late, so I was in a rush. And then I locked my car key in the car because I forgot something in the flat, and my mum has the spare key and she’s not even awake yet, so I had to walk here in the rain. And I couldn’t find my umbrella.” You brush a wet piece of hair away from your forehead. “And I slept like shit, and haven’t had any caffeine because I was late. So, yeah.”

“Shit morning,” Oscar agrees.

You nod. You finally turn to look at him again. There’s a soft look on his face, one you can’t quite place. He reaches out, places his hand flat on the counter next to yours. If you shifted your thumb just slightly, you could touch his. You want to, but you don’t.

“Sorry, I- Can I help you find anything?” You ask, blinking at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I asked,” he says. He rocks back on his heels and pulls his hand back. “I actually just remembered, I’m- I have to- I’ll be right back.”

He turns around and walks quickly to the front of the store. The bell dings as he walks out through the front door. You stare at the spot where his hand had been for just a moment and feel your heart shatter in your chest. You’d gone and over shared with your favorite customer, the one you thought might actually be your friend, and now you’ve scared him off. Yet another tally to add to the shit morning. You collapse into the chair behind the counter and rest your head in your hands, trying to will the tears away.

You’re not sure how long goes by before you hear the bell over the door again. And really, nobody comes in this early, so why are they choosing today of all days? You hastily wipe your face on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and stand up, plastering a smile onto your lips to greet whoever is in the store.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s… Oscar. He’s walking towards you, though he’s not looking at you. He has three takeout coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. His hair matches yours now, soaking wet and hanging over his forehead. You burst into laughter as he sets them down.

“Oh my god, I thought I scared you off,” you say, brushing a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“No,” he says, eyes wide. “You said you needed caffeine. There’s a coffee shop just down the road.”

You laugh and press your hands to the counter, leaning towards the cups. “Three cups?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I got you coffee, but I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar. So,” he points at the smallest of the three cups, “this is cream,” he says while digging in his pockets. Then he places an assortment of sugar packets on the counter. “And here’s sugar. The other cup is mine.”

You grin at him, shaking your head. “I knew you were my favorite customer for a reason.”

The smile he gives you in return is bright enough to make up for the lack of sun, to wash away the rain clouds, to warm your cold hands. You open the lid to the coffee and pour a bit of cream in, and then add two sugars. Oscar watches, nodding.

“I’ll know for next time,” he says.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Next time. You like the sound of that. You wrap your hands around the paper cup and let the warmth seep into your fingers before you take a sip. You sigh happily, meeting his eyes over the lid. The cup in his hand has something written on it in messy pen. You wonder if the barista tried to give him their number, and you fight back the jealous feeling at the thought.

“Thank you,” you say, softly.

“It’s no biggie,” he insists. “I owed you anyway, for saving Greg.”

He hangs out for a while that morning, leaning on your counter and chatting. You re-pot some plants and then bring them out to the displays, and he follows along. There’s something about his presence alone that warms you up from the inside out. By the time he looks at his watch and curses, muttering about having a meeting, you’re feeling much better. His hand brushes your shoulder before he leaves. You call after him to thank him again for the coffee.

He stops in the doorway, rain falling on his arm that’s extended to hold the door open. “I’ll see you soon!”

Then he disappears into the storm.

…..

You don’t see him soon. It’s not abnormal for Oscar to go a couple weeks without stopping in, so at first you don’t think much of it. Each Tuesday, though, you look up eagerly when the bell over the door rings, and your heart sinks when it’s not him. Maybe you really did over share, maybe he did get scared off. You try not to think about it.

It’s just… he was cute, and kind, and fun to talk to. He brought you coffee. You wonder how his plants are doing, if he’s still playing music for them while he’s gone. You have fleeting images in your brain of him watering the plants, taking the time to look for new leaves and check the roots. You almost wish he’d have another plant emergency, just to give him a reason to stop back in.

Eventually, after a month goes by and he hasn’t been back, you give up almost entirely. You’ll move on eventually, find a new favorite customer. You couldn’t have expected him to keep coming around forever, after all. To him, you were just another retail worker.

You do end up seeing his American friend one more time. He comes in on a Wednesday morning, just like before. He doesn’t stop and look at any of the plants, instead beelining for you. You’re working on bagging some potting soil and watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” you say. “Can I help you find something?”

“No, I just-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I super killed that succulent.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re Oscar’s friend, right? He didn’t help you?”

The guy shakes his head. “He made fun of me, though. Said I overwatered it.”

“How is he, anyways?” You ask.

Logan frowns. “He’s good.”

You nod. “Well, d’you want to try again?”

“No, that’s not why I-“ he sighs, rubbing his temples. “He won’t shut up about you, you know.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Find that hard to believe, since he hasn’t been here for almost a month.”

Which is maybe a little mean spirited. And probably not something you should be saying to his friend. You wince.

Now it’s his turn to blink wildly. “So you miss him too?”

You squint at him. “Why are we having this conversation? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Logan,” he says. “You haven’t like… reached out to him or anything?”

“How would I?” You ask. “I don’t even know his last name, let alone his phone number.”

“His last name’s Piastri.”

“That feels like information you shouldn’t be giving away to strangers.”

He’s not listening, though. Something seems to have clicked in his head. His eyes go wide and he starts to back away.

“I have to go,” he says. “Thanks!”

You’ve had a lot of strange interactions while working retail, but that one comes in pretty high on the list. And it leaves you wondering about Oscar, which is something you’re trying desperately not to do. All in all, not a great day.

…..

Two weeks later, you clock out of your Tuesday shift around lunchtime and head down the street. It’s raining again, but at least this time you’re armed with a raincoat and an umbrella. Your car is parked nearby, but you’re in the mood for coffee and warm food, so you head to the cafe nearby. You try not to think about the time Oscar had brought you coffee from there. You can’t help picturing his soft smile, eyes trained on the cups balanced precariously in his hands.

You make it halfway to the cafe before a gust of wind hits your umbrella at just the right angle and snaps the metal supports. Then, as if the universe is playing a cruel trick on you, a car speeds by on the road next to you, hits a puddle, and sprays you with muddy water. It soaks through your clothes and onto your skin nearly immediately. You fight the urge to ball your hands into fists and yell dramatically at the sky.

“Shit,” someone says, and the sound of his voice makes your breath catch in your chest. Then he says your name.

You turn, coming face to face with Oscar. Well. Okay. He’s studying you with a pained look on his face and standing under an umbrella.

“Yeah, shit,” you mutter, shaking water from your hands. “Oh my God. Hi, by the way. It’s been a bit.”

“It has,” he agrees, shuffling closer to hold the umbrella over you. “Here. Um. You okay?”

You shrug. “S’just water. I won’t melt.”

Oscar laughs- god, you’ve missed that sound- and nudges your shoulder. “You’ve got bad luck with rainstorms, huh?”

You nod. You’re trying not to freak out at the fact that he’s here. Oscar is standing next to you, holding his umbrella over your head. He’s here and he’s talking to you and he’s feeling sympathetic, which maybe means he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy.

“S’what I get for trying to go get coffee,” you say over the sound of raindrops on the umbrella. “And lunch. Now I’ve got to drive home like this.”

Oscar frowns, his whole face crumpling with it. “Hey, you know… I live just a block down. If you want, you could come and change into some dry clothes.”

Your mother would kill you for even considering it. You can practically hear her yelling in your head. But god, it’s Oscar. It’s Oscar and you haven’t seen him in a month and you might never see him again. There’s something about the soft look on his face that makes you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. “That would be… really nice. But only if you’re sure.”

“Of course,” he says.

Your shoulders brush as you walk, the umbrella over both of your heads. The two of you are nearly silent on the walk there. It’s like neither of you quite know what to say. You know you don’t. You worry he’s regretting inviting you to his place. But he lets you in the front door, leads you to the elevator, and all the way up to flat. When he opens the door, warm air pours over you like a river. You step in and toe off your boots, wincing at the squish of your wet socks.

Oscar winces, too. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” he says, pointing at a partially open door. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes. There’s towels in there too.”

You nod and step into the room. So far, the little bit of his apartment that you’ve seen matches up with what he’s told you. There are no shoes sitting out in the entryway. The bathroom is nearly spotless, which makes you feel a bit guilty about the dirty rainwater you’re dripping onto the floor. Oscar’s only gone long enough for you to take off your jacket.

He knocks on the door. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

You open the door, and he’s standing there, eyes squeezed shut. The clothes are held out in midair, like he’s trying to keep his distance. You laugh and take them, murmuring out a thanks. As you go to change, you hear him walk away.

You shuck your wet clothes off and drop them in the tub, shivering when the air hits your bare skin. You wipe the rainwater from your skin. Then you pull on the clothes he gave you- a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. Plus a pair of thick, warm looking socks. All of them are baggy on you, but luckily the pants have a drawstring so you can pull them tight around your hips. You wring the water out of your hair with the towel and then wrap it around your shoulders before you step out into the hallway.

You can hear him moving around in the next room, so you head there. He’s standing at the kitchen island, which is open to the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, and a soft smile spreads across his face. His living room is neat and tidy, too. His plants are all lined up on the windowsill. You recognize them all from your store, and you smile.

“D’you have a plastic bag I can put my clothes in?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you. “I don’t wanna get more rainwater on your floor. Or in my car, really.”

“I mean, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Or… you could throw them in the washer. Hang out for a bit.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. You’re glad, because you’re sure you have a dumbfounded look on your face. It’s then that you notice the coffee machine running on the counter behind him, and the snacks out on the counter. Your mind is racing. He hasn’t stopped by the shop in nearly a month, but now…

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you say, unsure what else there is to possibly say.

He shakes his head, still not looking up. “You’re not.”

You cast your eyes to the window. It’s raining harder now. And god, you’ve missed him. You didn’t realize just how much until you were standing here.

“It’s been a while,” he says, turning his back to you when the coffee maker beeps. “We have some catching up to do.”

You think about letting it go. Maybe it’s enough to be here. Maybe you just shouldn’t bring it up. But really, you’re confused about the fact that he stopped coming to the store.

You tilt your head at him. “Yeah, you stopped coming in.”

“Well, you never texted me,” he says. “So I figured I’d freaked you out or something. But then Logan said he stopped by and you asked about me-“

You stare at the back of his head, bewildered, and you break in. “Oscar, I don’t have your number.”

He freezes, hand in midair, reaching for a coffee mug. He turns his head over his shoulder, and his eyes meet your again. He looks just as confused as you feel. Suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

“I wrote it on the coffee cup,” he says, voice quiet.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “There was nothing on my coffee cup.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth, but you keep talking. “I’m sure of it. But there was writing on yours. I know because I wondered if the barista was trying to give you her number.”

Oscar just stares at you for a moment, his lips barely parted. “Shit. I gave you the wrong cup.”

Shit, you repeat in your head. He tried to give you his number. He thought he gave you his number, and then you never texted him. He thought you rejected him. No wonder he stopped coming in.

“You could’ve just asked me for my number, you know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but this was cuter,” he says. “It was- it was my number and this cheesy ass pickup line that Logan helped me think of and I- I really thought you just didn’t…”

“Pickup line?”

“Looking back it sounds stupid,” he admits. “But yeah. I was trying to ask you out on a date. And so when you didn’t text me…”

You cross the room, walking right up in front of him. His hands have fallen to his sides. His eyes trace your face as you smile up at him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, brows slightly furrowed. You can smell the coffee now- it reminds you of when he brought you the coffee weeks ago.

“You should ask me now,” you tell him, smiling brightly.

He nods. “Without the pickup line, though.”

You pout up at him. He grins. One of his hands comes up to the side of your face, fingers cupping your jaw. His thumb prods at your cheek.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks, voice low.

You pretend to think about it. Pretend it doesn’t make your heart melt just to hear him say it. “Hm. When?”

He shrugs, looks around. “How about now?”

“It’s raining,” you remind him.

“We can have a stay at home date,” he suggests. “Coffee, lunch, a movie, maybe.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He says, sounding a bit like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the day we met.”

Oscar laughs and leans closer. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

He presses his lips to yours, and your eyes slip closed. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear- it’s still wet from the rain, and both of you giggle into the kiss. His hands drop to your hips, shoving the sweatshirt out of the way to hold onto you. You could kiss him for hours, you think. It’s all you’ve wanted for months now.

The coffee is growing cold on the counter. Suddenly, though, you don’t need caffeine.

He pulls away slightly, looks you up and down. “You look cute in my clothes, you know.”

You giggle and tug on the sweatshirt, pointing at the orange logo on the chest. “Thanks. Big McLaren guy, are you?”

Oscar laughs and brushes his lips against your temple. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Then he goes back to kissing you. You’re not complaining. You’ve got all the time in the world to learn all about him.

…..

Weeks later, you corner Logan at the British Grand Prix. Oscar’s distracted by interviews, but Logan’s not busy.

“What was the pickup line he wrote?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

Surprisingly, he needs very little convincing. He just laughs, eyes darting to where Oscar stands behind you in the media pen. His gaze is full of amusement.

“I be-leaf we’re meant to be,” he says in a teasing tone. “He was down bad.”

You laugh and turn over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He’s grinning watching the two of you talk. Later, you tease him for the cheesy line, for hiding behind coffee cups and scribbled pen when he could’ve just told you. He teases you for the same, for not telling him how you felt, for not making a move. And then you look at him, knowing your gaze is terribly soft.

“I believe it, too,” you tell him.

When he kisses you, you draw constellations between the freckles on his face with your thumb. Outside, it starts to rain.

a/n: can you tell I am a big plant nerd? anyways live laugh love oscar piastri I want to help him pick out plants :)

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #honeywrites #op81 #if you’ve made it this far in the tags somehow hi

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pochipop · 3 months

Text

＃LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).

#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .

#. characters! — rafayel.

#. warnings! — none .

#. word count! — 1.3k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)

You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.

“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”

You sigh.

“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”

“Call in sick.”

“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”

“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.

In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten.

“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.

He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.

Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.

“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.

“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.

You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)

“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”

“You better,” he mutters.

“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”

You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.

“Be safe, okay?” He says.

“Always,” you nod.

Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.

His playful pout returns.

“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.

“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.

He sighs dramatically.

“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.

Rafayel rolls his eyes.

“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.

“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”

“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.

“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”

His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.

“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”

You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.

“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”

Rafayel gives a curt nod.

“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”

Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.

You play along and give him a mock salute.

“Yes sir, at once.”

Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.

“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”

You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.

You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.

As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.

“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deep space rafayel #love and deep space rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader

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zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

Text

stubborn - han jisung

love collection

genre: angst? hurt? eventual comfort?

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none

wc ~3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"you're not hearing me at all."

you push yourself off the edge of jisung's bed, onto your feet and make your way around the room gathering the things you came with. which isn't much since he keeps some of your things in his dorm. fingers running through your locks; the state of your hair expressing the brewing frustration within you. what was supposed to be a lovely night sleeping over at jisung's turned into the two of you pushing each other's buttons.

you're quick to swing the door open and make your way into the hall but jisung's quick to follow you out.

"baby, come on!" he calls, hot on your tail, "y/n!"

"leave me alone ji!"

jisung sneers, "you wanted me to communicate more! here i am! communicating but you're walking away!"

you stop, spinning around to face the boy so suddenly that your bodies almost collide. there, in the hallway of jisung's dorm, you're standing face to face, chests rapidly heaving from your uneven breathing, the rage radiating off your bodies. feeding off each other's emotions.

"yes. i wanted you to communicate more but," your tone stern as your eyes narrow up at him, "that also meant hearing me when i'm communicating something to you! listening to me–"

"please. i've been listening to you!"

"no you haven't! it's like i'm speaking into a void when i tell you that i miss you, ji! we've been together for six months, but i've barely seen you in the past few months."

"you know how my job is," jisung crosses his arms over his chest.

"i'm not asking for you to be attached at the hip. all I'm asking is to see you more than i do right now."

"my schedule doesn't work that way. i can't always find the time for you."

"you can't? or you don't want to?" you counter with your arms crossed over your chest.

jisung scoffs at your implication, "what are you talking about?"

"you can't make time for me or you don't want to make time for me?" you look into jisung's eyes, "when we first started dating you wou—"

"–my schedules have changed. they're not the same as when we first started dating," jisung reminds you, "it's not that easy."

"you said that before too!" you remind him, with a frown adorning your lips, "you said it wouldn't be easy, i knew that, but–"

"but?"

"but..." your eyelids flutter, harshly gulping down the lump in your throat as you hold back the tears threatening to brew, "do you not want to try? do you not want to see me?"

"you know it's not like that," jisung sighs, voice laced with exasperation.

"then what? what is it like then?" the tears fall anyway.

"you knew what dating me would be like."

you scoff as you roll your eyes, "you can't keep using that defense."

"am i wron–"

you're quick to cut jisung off, "–i knew that my boyfriend being an idol wouldn't be easy, that we wouldn't get the opportunity to see each other as much as we would like–"

"if you knew then," he shrugs, "what's this all about?"

jisung's words come out colder than intended.

"this is about you not even trying to fit me in! you stopped saying 'i'll try', now its always 'i can't'!"

"excuse me? i haven't been trying? how can you say that i haven't been trying?"

"where's the effort then jisung? show me!" angry tears stream down your face, "all our texts show that i'm the one asking when you're free! that i'm checking up on you! i'm the one initiating everything."

"i'm here now, aren't i?" jisung waves his hands up and down, "is that not enough for you?"

"after today i'll probably see you in another couple of weeks, or even more than a month when i'm the one asking you to spend time with me! me! your girlfriend!"

"god, i can't do this right now," jisung runs a hand through his unruly hair, "i've got a ton of work left to do and this conversation is going nowhere."

"fine," you huff.

a few moments pass with neither of you making any moves, staring straight ahead. though you're both in each other's line of sight, your eyes don't meet. avoiding the other's fiery gaze.

your cheeks are flushed, your falling tears soaking the heated skin but you make no effort to swipe them away. your bottom lip is trembling—your whole body feels like it's trembling due to the overwhelming amount of emotion that rush through your veins that very moment. jisung pretty much mirrors you, minus the tears, the way his brows are knit together, slow and heavy breaths leaving his flared nostrils.

with a sigh of defeat, you turn on your heel, then make a beeline for the door. jisung watches you make your way to the front door, not once looking back at him as you swing the door open and shut it behind you.

and not once does he stop you from leaving.

the door shuts and jisung turns around, walking to his room where he flings the door shut behind him and pulls his headphones on. drowning out his surroundings as he tries to steady his breathing.

an hour or two passes and chan walks through the front door, expecting to see your shoes next to jisung's at the door or some other trace of you inside the dorm, but nothing catches his eye. curious, the curly haired boy peeks into jisung's room to see if maybe you'd both gone out but jisung sits there in his computer chair.

the brunette's still got headphones on, no knowledge that his hyung stands in his doorway. right as chan is about to shut the door, his eyes land on a short stack of clothes on top of jisung's dresser: your favourite shirt of jisung's and a pair of jisung's sweatpants. the sight has chan nodding his head as he slowly steps back and closes the door.

even without asking, it's clear something went on between the two of you. the clothes sitting on top of the younger boy's dresser are the same clothes you're given to wear whenever you stay over. they're jisung's clothes but he sets them aside just for you because he knows how much you love them. instead, the clothes are neatly folded and untouched.

on the way to his own room, chan sends changbin and hyunjin a text, letting them know about the current atmosphere of the dorm.

walking in through the front door of your apartment and locking eyes with your roommate, the surprise on her face is apparent. she wasn't expecting you to come home tonight as you said you'd be sleeping at jisung's before leaving. regardless of her surprise, the moment she registers the look on your face, she's rushing over to pull you into a bear hug.

oh, there go the waterworks again.

your trek home from jisung's dorm was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

you would cry, be fine, see the smallest thing and cry once again. you had literally seen a dog across the street and the tears started falling once again.

standing near the front door, you're holding her tight as you cry into her shoulder. she doesn't ask what the cause of your tears are, instead she rubs comforting circles on your back whilst swaying your bodies back and forth. allowing you to let it all out, no questions asked. the look on your face when you walked through the door said enough for her. moments pass until eventually, you feel that you've cried enough.

"thank you," you say with a sniffle, pulling away from her.

she smiles, "i'm here if you want to talk, even if you don't want to talk about it, i'm still here."

...

its been three days since you and jisung have seen each other.

if you were to ask mutual friends of both yours and jisung's to point out the traits you share, other than the both of you being quite introverted. the top would be: stubborn.

were you both aware of how immature you were being, holding out hope that the other one would crack first? yes. of course.

it's just a matter of who is less stubborn and immature between the both of you.

jisung's holed himself up in the company building the past couple of days. most of his time is spent in chan's room or the dance studio (when he feels like moving) as he tries not to think about you.

keyword: tries.

you're all he can think about.

the brunette would be checking his phone to see if maybe you've sent something. jisung had gotten used to you sending him texts throughout the day but the past three days have been radio silent. he finds himself feeling incomplete without your random texts; feeling incomplete without you.

on the other hand, you've caught yourself almost texting or calling jisung first, holding yourself back for the sake of proving a point. albeit, in an immature manner, but a point nonetheless. just like your boyfriend, you're drowning yourself in work but it does nothing to get the boy with the cutest round cheeks out of your head.

three days of radio silence seemed like more than enough, the longing for each other growing as the days pass. jisung misses your random messages about anything and everything, and you miss his random selfies throughout the day.

you miss each other.

eventually, instead of the both of you being too hard-headed to admit defeat and initiate a conversation; the delay comes with the fact that neither of you know where or how to start.

you and jisung have argued before, of course. it would be unnatural for no conflicts to have come up in six months of your relationship. however, it has never gone this far.

with a deep breath, jisung raises his fist to knock at the door.

"hyung?"

from inside the room, chan hums. turning around in his chair as he calls for jisung to come inside. the door opens slowly, revealing jisung clad in sweats and a hoodie, sheepishly walking into chan's bedroom and taking a seat on the mattress.

"what's up?"

chan knows what's up. it's been quite obvious that something has been up with you and jisung for the past couple of days.

"i need some adv—... help. i need some help," jisung glances up at chan and back down, receiving another hummed reply from the older boy, "i fucked up."

jisung takes a deep breath, fingers toying at his sleeves.

"something happened between you and y/n, yeah?"

jisung nods as chan leans back in his computer chair. with that, jisung begins rambling about the argument you two had while chan listens intently, mentally noting down points he believes to be significant. as jisung retells the exchange, he's reminded of the way you looked at him, the things you said to him and how he responded back to you.

"i.. uh.. i don't know what to do," jisung's hands brush through his hair, elbows on his knees as he leans his weight forward, "i don't know where to start."

meanwhile, a floor down and a couple hours later, seungmin sits in the living room of his dorm on the phone with you. on your end, his voice comes through your phone speakers, filling your room.

"first of all, you two need to speak to each other."

"ok—"

"—i'm not done," seungmin hushes you, "how jisung managed to find someone as stubborn as he is, is beyond me but you're both stubborn as hell."

"... gee, thanks."

"you're welcome. you know it's true," even though he can't see you, you can't help but shrug with a small nod, agreeing with seungmin's statement. he continues, "but think about it like this. one reason you fought was because he wasn't prioritizing your relationship, right?"

"yeah?"

"what about right now?"

"huh?"

"is the priority right now to be as hard-headed as possible to prove a point or…" seungmin drags out the last word, "is it your relationship with jisung?"

"my relationship."

...

"well, someone's up early," your roommate gasps when you walk into the kitchen.

you're fully dressed for the day, ready to go outside. usually this early in the morning you're still asleep, choosing to wake up right on time for work instead of earlier than needed.

"i thought you had a day off?" she muses, bringing the mug up to her lips and taking a sip of her coffee.

even before you entered the kitchen area, you could smell the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, filling the air the moment you walked out of your bedroom.

"i do," you nod, going to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, not really in the mood for coffee.

"where ya' going?"

"i'm gonna go to the dorms," you turn around and lean against the counter, "talk to ji."

"woke up early to avoid the morning rush?" the soft smile on your face paired with the sigh says enough, "how are you feeling?"

you shrug, "a bit nervous... but i'm always nervous going into serious conversations."

she chuckles, "oh yeah. i remember the conversation we had when you wanted to be a potential roommate."

the memory has your cheeks flushing, throwing your head back in embarrassment. to this day, you don't know how she chose you instead of the other, non-embarrassing, applicants. right before your roommate leaves for work, you're exchanging a quick hug and then she's out the door.

the longer you sit alone in the kitchen, stewing in your own thoughts, deliberating over the plan you've repeated in your head a million times; the more your anxiety heightens. prompting you to close your eyes before it can spill over the brim. you take a deep breath, trying to focus on your heartbeat.

the sudden knock at the door has your heart jump, the noise startling you.

you glance out the kitchen doorway, spotting your roommate's house keys hanging on the rack next to the front door. shaking your head, you walk towards the front, unhooking her keys whilst you turn the knob with your other hand.

she's always been quite forgetful.

with an amused smile on your face, you pry the door open.

"no wonder i didn't hear your keys when you left—"

you gulp, heart flipping in your chest.

its not your roommate.

the words are caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing in front of you.

han jisung's here, inside your apartment complex and right outside your front door. the hood of his brown jacket is pulled over his beanie-clad head, and the bottom half of his face is covered by a mask but the nervousness is obvious as he awkwardly shifts his weight on his feet, eyes flickering around.

"can i come in?" he asks with a soft voice.

you nod, stepping aside, giving jisung the space to walk through the front door then shutting it behind him. he discards his shoes at the door, before you're walking in front of him, leading you both into the living area. the two of you take a seat on the couch, a couple inches of space between your bodies. awkward silence lingering in the air, neither of you knowing who should speak first.

jisung clears his throat and decides to take the leap.

his hands reach up to remove the mask and hood, "where.. uh.. were you going somewhere?"

referring to the denim jeans and hoodie you've got on. his hoodie.

"i was going… to see you."

jisung angles his body in your direction, blinking a couple of times as your gaze flickers towards him.

"... you were going to see me?" you nod, "but.. why?"

now you're turning to him, brows knit in confusion. what does he mean why?

"so we could talk about… you know..."

jisung is mentally smacking himself, "no-no, i know that but you shouldn't be the one going over there.. it should be me coming to you. to talk to you, to apologize to you."

"but i have things to apologize for too…" your hands play with the ends of the hoodie you're wearing, "i... i'm sorry that i made it seem like you don't put anything into our relationship. i hurt you by saying you aren't trying. i know you do, i know its hard with your schedule and all... i—"

jisung shakes his head, scooting closer, taking your hands in his own. the mere feeling of his hands on yours has your heart skipping a beat, your skin tingling under his touch.

"honestly, i was hurt hearing you say i haven't been trying, putting in any effort," the pads of his thumbs gently caress your skin, "it's embarrassing to admit... but it did hurt my ego."

jisung's chocolate brown iris' swim with guilt and sadness.

both emotions stem from his inadequacy as a boyfriend recently; hurting the person he cares the most about. its true that you don't realize what you've lost until it's gone, and he had a taste of it for the past three days. he doesn't want to be without you, never again.

"i didn't see the mistakes i'd made, the ways i hurt you. instead, i hurt you more in that conversation, didn't i?"

the way your lips press into a straight line is enough of an answer for him.

"i'm sorry," jisung squeezes your hands gently, "i'm sorry for not putting more effort into our relationship."

"you are—"

"no, i'm not," he shakes his head, "if i was then it it wouldn't have been brought up, and we wouldn't have had that fight."

"... mhmm."

"i kept saying you knew what you were getting into dating me," a bitter laugh slips from his lips at the memory, "but i also knew what getting into a relationship. god, i fucked up."

your stomach turns and your brain starts to scatter. overthinking about what jisung could say next, hypothesizing the worst-case scenarios.

"i knew that it wasn't going to be easy... that dating me is going to be a lot harder than it would be if you dated... someone else– someone that isn't a celebrity," his fingers fiddle with your own, "you knew all of that and still said yes to me, you still chose me?"

"of course, because i want you. no one else."

jisung's cheeks get rounder as his toothy smile widens at your words. he blinks quickly, snapping himself out of his quick daze and continues.

"i haven't been the best boyfriend lately, i know that..." his brown eyes lock with your own, "i'm sorry for how i hurt you that day... even leading up to that... i know i wasn't putting in that effort and there's no excuse for that, honestly. i haven't been fair to you."

"its okay."

"its not, don't say that, baby," jisung sighs, "i know i fucked up but i'll make it up to you. i promise! i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, i'll work harder on us... i'll find a... what is it? b-balance! balance! i'll work on communicating more... j-just be patient with me? i know you already are but—"

"—you're rambling," you cut him off, knowing if you didn't he'd just continue to talk in circles.

it's adorable, it's endearing.

but you take this opportunity to apologize in return, "i'm sorry too. i'm know i hurt you too that day. i could've found a better way to bring it up to you, talk to you about it but i didn't and i'm so sorry. i need to work on that, i need to work on a lot of things but… we'll work on us, together. it'll be hard but-"

"as long as we're together."

you nod, repeating his words, "as long as we're together."

jisung's hands move up to cup your cheeks, caressing the skin gently as your own hands are circled around his wrists. leaning in, he places a kiss onto your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. his chocolate brown eyes graze over your face with a delighted look, taking the time to memorize your features all over again, etching them into his brain as if it was the first time all over again.

starting with your eyes. your stunning eyes that bore into his own, jisung finds himself entranced by them and the way they sparkle when you're talking about your passions, the things you love. your eyes that smile whenever you laugh at his stupid jokes.

your nose, which you've repeatedly expressed your dissatisfaction with, but jisung find absolutely adorable. the way your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when you're playfully glaring at him.

your lips. your plush, baby pink lips that jisung would kiss all day if he could, especially when you're in a pouty mood. the way your bottom lip juts out makes his heart flip. sometimes he finds himself staring at your lips, allured by the way they move as you speak.

you. you're absolutely breathtaking, beautiful. the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on. the most beautiful being, inside and out that he will ever lay eyes on. he's convinced that nothing else, that no one else will captivate him, entrance him, amaze him the way that you do. the way only you do. its you, only you.

"i love you."

the three words, eight letters leave jisung's lips for the first time, directed to you, dedicated to you and you feel like you're levitating. the words, paired with the melodic vocal tone of the man sitting across from you has you breathless, the sound is intoxicating. you're addicted, so high and elated that for a moment, you wonder if you heard right.

"you..?" you're speechless.

jisung's face beams with happiness, his eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes at the sight of your own eyes that currently resemble a lost puppy; large, round and beaming up at him.

"it was like a part of me was missing over the past three days. the past three days i didn't have you, three days without you... three days where i got the taste of what life would be like if i lost you. you, y/n, are my heart," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "i can't— i don't want to imagine a life without you, it would only be incomplete. i love you…"

jisung pauses, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to bite back his smile.

"fuck… i'm so in love with you."

"han jisung," you press a kiss to his lips with a hum before pulling away ever so slightly. lips brushing against his as you speak, "i'm so in love with you. it's crazy."

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bobfloydsbabe · 6 months

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gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

likes are nice, comments and reblogs are golden

TAGLIST: @blue-aconite, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @ryebecca, @sebsxphia, @rhettabbotts, @lewmagoo, @ereardon, @anniesocsandgeneralstore, @desert-fern, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @cherrycola27, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @atarmychick007, @yanna-banana, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @gizmodear, @hangmanapologist, @thedroneranger, @soulmates8, @withakindheartx, @eternallyvenus, @kmc1989, @bcarolinablr, @memeorydotcom, @dempy, @withahappyrefrain, @bradshawsbitch, @daisiesandinvasives, @teacupsandtopgun, @laracrofted

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x oc #professor bob floyd #professor bob #professor au #dark academia au #top gun maverick #tgm #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd angst #madebyme #writtenbyme #mywriting #helena writes #lewis pullman

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casuallyimagining · 8 months

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Two Hours || myg

otter hybrid yoongi x female reader

Summary: Your neighbor invites you to a work picnic that he's nervous to attend. You promise to only stay for two hours. Word Count: 2,870 Genre: slice of life, fake dating, friends to ???, fluff Warnings: none

Notes: Thank you to @park-jimin-isnt-real for the moodboard above, and to @rec-me-bts for the moodboard below that I used in the teaser. I had so much trouble deciding which one to use where. Also many many thanks to @oddinary4bts and @madbutgloriouspond for beta-ing this for me and for their endless sympathies while I basically had an existential crisis in their dms. Thank you for not telling me I am annoying 💙

The elevator dings and you step onto your floor. Your arm stings from carrying the grocery bags from the garage–they aren’t particularly full, but it’s just heavy enough and just long enough to get your out of shape muscles angry at you. The closer you get to your apartment, the more you notice a banging noise. And when you finally round the corner, you see its source.

Your across-the-hall neighbor, Yoongi, stands outside of his own apartment rattling his door angrily.

“Stuck again?” you ask, fishing out your keys with your free hand.

Yoongi grunts, the small ears on the top of his head pressing into his hair in frustration. Silently, he takes the bags out of your hand while you open your door.

“You should call the landlord again,” you tell him. He follows you inside as if it’s natural. Which, really, it is. This is the fourth time this month his door has jammed, effectively locking him out of his home until a locksmith showed up.

“I’d fix it myself if he’d let me.” He sets the bags on your counter and starts to hand you items. Strawberries, a bottle of coffee creamer, cucumbers and celery. He picks up a box of frozen fish sticks and flips it around to read. “You know this stuff is garbage, right?”

You ignore his commentary on your groceries. “You know Krolmeir’s never going to let you fix it. He’d have to lower your rent.”

He hums, and you can hear the underlying ‘jackass’ in the tone.

“Do you want me to call him?” you asked. Krolmeir–your landlord–likes you way more than he seems to like Yoongi. You’re almost positive you can guess why. But you aren’t afraid to use his skeeviness to your advantage.

“I called him just before you showed up.”

“And he said…?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Yoongi imitates Krolmeir’s voice–a high-pitched nasally whine more than anything. He rolls his eyes. “So he’ll be here sometime between five minutes from now and next Tuesday.”

You hum sympathetically. “Hang out here until he comes? I’ll make dinner.”

“Are you making fish sticks?”

“Thought about it.” His face scrunches up in disgust, a massive frown parts his lips, revealing his longer than human canine teeth. You laugh and roll your eyes. “I was actually just going to order something. Want to get sushi?”

His eyes light up, but when he speaks, his tone doesn’t match how excited he looks. “Whatever you want to do. I’m the one crashing your evening.”

You wave him off. He should know by now that he’s not imposing. You’ve been neighbors for a few years now. You’d started off just going grocery shopping together–it’s easier to carry groceries when there are two of you–and quickly progressed to taking refuge in each other’s apartments when something went wrong in your own. First, it had been your air conditioning crapping out that had driven you to Yoongi’s apartment to avoid the late-summer heat. Then, his oven stopped working, and he’d hidden in your living room while the landlord and the handyman made the repairs. Back and forth until a friendship had formed.

The sushi arrives and you settle in together on your couch. You prop your door open so that you can hear if the landlord arrives. He takes two bites of his sashimi before Yoongi hums urgently, causing you to pause the show you’d turned on for background noise.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, and you can tell he’s suddenly nervous. “So we’re having a potluck picnic thing at work, and someone decided it would be a great idea to make it mandatory.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah. But I get a plus one, so I was wondering if maybe you’d go with me? Make it a little more tolerable?”

“You want me to go to your dumb company picnic with you?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Nervously, he pokes at a grain of rice that had fallen off one of his nigiri.

“Sounds like it’s going to be not a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.”

You shrug. “I’m in.”

Yoongi is a ball of nerves as you shift into park. You’re definitely not the first ones here–there’s like ten other cars in the gravel lot, and you can see a large-ish group of people milling about the pavilion just up the hill. He alternates between patting his thigh and picking at the skin around his thumbnail. His ears press into his hair so far you can’t even see them. You know he doesn’t care for his coworkers, but you didn’t know it was this bad. Maybe it’s the crowd, or the fact that so many of his coworkers will be here. You aren’t sure, but you don’t like how affected he is.

You reach over and gently cover his hands with your own. He freezes. “Let’s make a game plan,” you say softly. He hums. “We’ll stay for how long? Two hours? An hour and a half?”

“Two I think. Since it’s mandatory.”

You nod. “Stay for two hours. We’ll talk to people, but if it starts to be too much, let me know.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. But then, he nods. “Let’s do this.”

You carry the dessert Yoongi made–partially because you’re a little worried he might drop it from nerves–and he sticks by your side. He’s got one hand in his pocket, but he’s so close that the other brushes against you every few steps.

The closer you get, the more the people in the pavilion notice you. You watch as one by one, then a few at a time, they watch you approach. And suddenly, you understand why Yoongi’s uncomfortable. Eventually, someone comes scuttling toward you.

“Hi Yoongi!” she calls, waving enthusiastically as she approaches.

“Oh. Hey Liz.” He presses closer. “We uh… we brought tiramisu.”

The woman–Liz–takes the container out of your hands. You make a small noise of protest, but she’s already gone, back up the hill to the pavilion and everyone else.

“Yoongi and his girlfriend brought dessert,” you hear her announce.

“Oh, tiramisu? Nice!” someone else–you can’t see who–says.

“No way. I thought he was going to bring something fishy.” Someone else, you can see them and you make a note that you hate them, laughs. A few others chuckle, too, and you also hate them.

They’re still laughing when you get to the pavilion. You’re introduced to each of them by finding out what they brought, and honestly, you don’t remember most of their names. It’s David that made the comment about the fish, so you’re sure to memorize his name so you can hate him fully. David’s dating Yoongi’s manager, Marcus, who apparently brought chicken that is very good. There’s Alison, who brought naan, and Rabia who brought chutney to go with it. And Donghyun brought some sort of seven layer dip.

For the most part, none of them talk to you. It quickly becomes clear that these people aren’t friends. Certainly, they aren’t friends with Yoongi, but they aren’t friends at all. They talk to each other, but it’s clear that this is just another mandatory work thing for them, and they don’t want to be here. You’re honestly a little glad that they leave you alone. None of them seem particularly nice. Or interesting.

So you grab food. And you sit together at a table far away from where the rest of the group is lingering.

“One hour, 45 minutes to go,” Yoongi mumbles, and you snort in laughter, almost choking on the naan you’d just taken a bite of.

“Maybe it won’t be so-”

“Mind if I sit?” You’re interrupted by a bright voice, and when you look, Liz is standing beside Yoongi, holding a plate of food.

You look to Yoongi and he makes a face that says he really doesn’t want her to sit with you. But he says nothing, simply gestures to the other side of the table. Which, of course, she takes as an invitation to sit right beside him. He practically squeaks in distress and scoots slightly over so that there’s a bit of space between them.

“I have to be honest,” Liz begins, oblivious. “No one really expected you to bring anyone. We kind of all just assumed you were single, you know?” He hums, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge what she’s saying. Briefly, you consider correcting her–you aren’t dating–but she continues before you can even consider a polite way to address the situation. “How long have you known each other? How’d you meet?”

“Years.” He doesn’t even look at her to answer her, his focus on pushing his food around on his plate. His current victim is the seven layer dip he’s stabbing with a tortilla chip.

“We’re neighbors,” you add, hoping that maybe if you answer her questions, she’ll shut up and leave you alone.

Liz nods enthusiastically. “That’s so cute! You guys are cute.”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” Yoongi announces suddenly, standing up. “Do you want anything?”

“Surprise me.”

He nods and leaves you alone with Liz. “I’m serious,” she laughs. “When we were all told we could bring a plus-one, I don’t think anyone expected Yoongi to bring someone. He’s usually so quiet around everyone at work.”

You’ve lost patience with her quickly. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but every time she opens her mouth to speak, it grates on your nerves. “Sometimes, he only talks when he thinks it’s worth his time.” You shrug and make eye contact with her.

Her smile falters very briefly, but then she recovers and it’s like nothing changed. “He talks to me, though,” she continues, as if you’d said nothing. “Mostly about new album releases and stuff.” You work at a music store, you think. But you let her keep talking. “He knows so much about music. He played the piano for me once.”

You hum and say nothing, craning your neck so you can look around her to see where Yoongi’s gotten to. He’s at the end of the pavilion, distracted by Marcus, his manager.

“He’s really good,” Liz gushes. “Like, really good. He used to want to be a music teacher–did you know that? He told me-”

You tune her out. Of course, you know that he plays the piano. You’ve seen the brown upright that sits in his living room, never dusty because he plays it too much. You often hear the soft melodies that travel through the walls at night when he can’t sleep. He’d even told you about wanting to be a music teacher–a long-dead dream that he’d abandoned in his early 20s. You wish he hadn’t, he had the patience of a saint and he was one of the smartest people you knew. But you also understand how needlessly cruel the world can be sometimes.

Finally, Yoongi returns, balancing a plate and two bottles of beer. He sits one of the bottles in front of you and, with a flourish, places the plate between you. “Someone made hotteok,” he says gleefully, nudging a pancake in your direction. “They aren’t hot, but Marcus said they were really good.”

He picks one up, gives it a satisfied pat. A wide, gummy smile spreads across his lips and his eyes crinkle in delight. He pats the pancake again a few more times, before nudging the plate toward you. It’s got one more hotteok on it, and a scoop of the tiramisu trifle Yoongi’d made.

Liz makes a noise of annoyance, and the look on her face says that she’s not happy she’s being ignored. But she plasters on a smile when Yoongi looks over at her.

“Oh. Liz,” he says softly, one hand still gently patting his hotteok. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

Her face falls. “I was just leaving.”

She leaves her plate behind.

He watches after her, eyes wide as she goes to join the group currently surrounding a bluetooth speaker. It’s blasting some sort of 90s pop song–you assume they’ve got a playlist going on someone’s phone.

“That was weird,” Yoongi says finally. “She’s normally really nice.”

You hum and lie. “Maybe she’s having a bad day.”

And as tactless as you think Liz is, you want to believe that’s true. You’ve heard plenty of stories of her, how she’s the only coworker that Yoongi actually likes, how she’s nice to him, how she actually seems to be interested in what he has to say. You don’t trust her, but you hope for Yoongi’s sake that she’s just off her game today.

Maybe if he clarified that you weren’t dating, it would help.

He doesn’t make any effort to do that, though, not even when Rabia brings around a QR code for you to scan to add songs to the playlist they’ve got going.

“Thought maybe you and your girlfriend would want to add some songs,” she says, offering a small smile. She waits patiently while Yoongi scans the code on her phone, and then she disappears again, back to the group over by the speaker.

“She seems nice,” you say, watching as he types into his phone and picks a couple songs.

Yoongi shrugs. “I’ve met her like twice? She works nights.”

After a second, he hands you his phone, open to some music website you’ve never heard of. You carefully consider what you might want to add. The site doesn’t let you see what else is in the playlist, so you aren’t sure what songs Yoongi picked, let alone what the others have queued up. But you pick two of your favorites that you think would be fun and hand him his phone back.

Apparently, the playlist is on shuffle, because a few songs later, you recognize the opening beats of one of the songs you chose. Immediately, Yoongi perks up, his little ears on alert as he listens. It takes all of about three seconds for him to break into a grin.

He’d introduced you to this band back when you first started grocery shopping together. You were driving, he was playing music on his phone. They were his favorite, a small hip-hop group made up of three dog hybrids. It wasn’t common for hybrids to make it in really any industry, so the fact that these guys did and their music was good? You couldn’t deny they had quickly become some of your favorite artists, too.

He sways a little with the music, his eyes closed. He looks content. You smile watching him, rest your chin on his hands. You’re happy you came, you determine.

Two hours fly faster than you thought they would. And when you point out that you’ve hit your promised limit and ask if Yoongi’s ready to go, he immediately nods. So you stand, say your goodbyes. His coworkers make a big deal of you leaving so soon. Liz tries to hug Yoongi before you leave, but he dodges her by grabbing another hotteok–though whether it was a purposeful deflection or just a happy accident, you aren’t sure.

He barely speaks until you’re in the car and halfway back to your apartment building. He shifts around in his seat, digging around in his pocket. He pulls out a rock–his favorite rock, you note–and rolls it around in his hand.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming with me. I uh… I’m sorry I didn’t tell them we weren’t dating.”

You frown, and when you slow to a stop at the next redlight, you turn to look at him. “You don’t have to apologize for that. If it made the situation even a little easier, it’s totally fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, when am I going to see these people again?” The light turns green and you hit the gas. “Let them think whatever they want. You wanna come back in eight months and tell them we’re married? Go for it.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

He nods. “I appreciate it.”

The car falls silent, the only sounds coming from the radio–Yoongi’s phone connected to the aux cord. He continues to toy with the rock, rubbing it between his fingers and tapping it against the armrest on the door. It takes only minutes to pull into the garage under your building, and even less to find a spot.

While you’re waiting for the elevator to return to the garage, he says your name so softly, you almost don’t hear it over the whirring of the cables and machinery.

“Here,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your hand. Carefully, he presses his rock into your palm.

You look at him, confused. “Yoongi, I…” He loves this rock. He’d never said exactly where he found it, but it’s a little round and very smooth, and you’ve seen him pat his pockets down on numerous occasions to make sure he has it with him.

“Take it. Please. I… As a thank you.” He doesn’t look at you, his face flushed a shade of light pink.

You nod and close your fingers around the rock. You’ll have to find somewhere nice to put it. And maybe, someday, you can find him a new one to replace it.

I'd love to know what you thought! I had been considering making this longer, but I thought leaving it open might be a little more fun. if you're interested, I may do a part two later? idk let me know if you're feeling a part two. thank you again to yav and jay for the moodboards. they're both so pretty.

#yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #hybrid min yoongi #hybrid min yoongi x reader #hybrid bts #hybrid bts x reader #bts hybrid au #yoongi hybrid au #yoongi hybrid #yoongi hybrid x reader

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dreamlandcreations · 5 days

Text

Chapter 1 • Faded dreams

Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You risk your life to find out what your dreams mean...

Warnings: space drugs (🙈), near death experience, mention of blood and death and war, no dialogue, no Feyd yet (well...), this is basically a prologue

•Feyd-Rautha masterlist• Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

• Series masterlist • Next part •

Your dreams were getting worse and it was getting more difficult to wake up each time. They seemed so real, yet they fade away each time within seconds as you finally jolt awake from the nightmares. All that remains is fear and a knowing that you are seeing the end.

You tried to ask your mother for help, well, more like tried to ask for information without telling her what's going on. Paul's own dreams were a good excuse to justify your curiosity but it also limited your options of inquiring about your specifically maddening problem. Because, of course your brother gets to dream about a pretty girl while you drown in a bloody nightmare every night. If only you could see more clearly, the not knowing of what these hazy images mean is almost worse than the death you witness each time.

You can't tell your mother though, or even Paul. They would try to stop you from making this utterly stupid decision that will probably result in your death. They wouldn't be able to understand that that possibility cannot be worse than this slowly driving you into insanity.

It was not as difficult as you thought, tricking a mentat, a doctor and a Bene Gesserit to give you little doses of spice to try. According to your careful research, with what you were gifted by Lady Fenring on her last visit, it should be enough to induce the process.

You waited until nighttime, until you knew everyone went to sleep. It was an unnecessary precaution as it turns out because Paul in the next room startled awake as soon as you took the spice.

With your last coherent thought you were thinking that getting hit by lightning must feel something like this. Only the energy didn't just hit you once, it was trapped inside your body, wreaking havoc in the very essence of your being. It was tearing you apart, and the pain was unbearable.

For a long while there was nothing but the pain, you did not really feel or sense anything. Then the first thing you were aware of was screaming, it took you a moment to realise it was your own, just before you had another wave of power rushing through you and you lost every bit of control over your body. The screaming stopped and you faintly heard your mother for a few seconds before the dreams drew you in.

No, not dreams, visions. You see everything all at once, and at first none of it made sense then you felt... time, in a way it couldn't be explained in words. The connections, the possibilities, the what ifs... like the branches of a tree... too many variants for even a mentat to handle and you were only half-trained at best. Yet, you understood, no, you felt, you sensed, you became a part of each version a little, living in a million moments at once, spread apart and yet still whole beneath that... like the branches of a tree...

The tree, your ancestry, you have to get to the other memory to finish the trial. You try to look within yourself, slightly distracted by regaining some of your physical sense and weakly trying to fight off the poison of the spice.

At the end of the spiral you see a figure, a source of all the death and misery that haunts you. A familiar, yet strange face that seemed to look into your soul. There is that rage and madness you started to see in your own reflection, only this gaze, this unnatural blue scared you more than your own demons.

Well, she is your demon in a way.

With that thought the spice floods your mind again, taking you where you wanted to go, forcing you down on the line of your ancestors, their knowledge and experience becoming a part of your consciousness but you know something is terribly wrong when your mind takes a path that no Bene Gesserit has before. You see your father and his entire line, both female and male members of your extended family tree on his part. And it comes surprisingly easy to you, too easy.

Your mother's line stops with her, there's something horrible beyond that which your mind cannot deal with and it almost shatters you.

On the inside you struggle to get out of the darkness that pulls you in. On the outside your body crashes, your heart stops, and so does your breathing.

You hear Paul's yell to the doctor to do something, followed by your mother's command, using the Voice to order you to breathe. With your last bit of strength leaving you, it feels like what you would call your soul starts to leave your body. It is quite peaceful actually, there's no more pain or worry, only a calm nothingness but unlike the previous cold and twisted darkness that came from within this feels right and you almost slip away from existence when you feel something, someone catch you and practically drag you back.

There's a voice, a command of a simple "No!" comes with the force that knocks you down and holds you in this world. The tone is unfamiliar, the raspy voice with the obvious rage laced into it sounds more like a growl than anything else and it is followed by a similarly angry, yet so much louder order, "FIGHT!"

The presence is gone as soon as it came but you are tethered to your body again, feeling how it shuts down sparks a sudden defiance in you. Not really knowing what you're doing, you will your heart's muscles to move, to pump the remaining spice through your body and your cells absorb it, sparkling to new life, then you slowly and now consciously start to sort of reboot your system with this new strange energy.

When you are done you just rest, unable to truly sleep but too tired to move too, you think. Going through the visions again and again, you start to see a pattern. As soon as you understand the reasons behind the events, it all comes together, all the previously possible paths become clear until a certain point.

Hours go by as you lie there, practically trapped in your own body but there's no fear in you anymore, you are too busy planning your next move. And the next, and the next.

You might have failed getting through the Spice Agony and it's a miracle you are alive but it doesn't matter, it wasn't an unnecessary risk after all, you know the truth now. There is only one person who's decisions changed the end game, all the others who you thought had enough power to be key persons could only influence the path, not the outcome. So you know, your mother can never set foot on Arrakis and if you have to take her place in the story, so be it.

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

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Congrats on 350 followers, Madelyn @jomarch-wannabe ! I hope you like this little, fluffy story that I thought up almost immediately after reading the prompt I picked - it’s italicized in the story! I couldn’t help but add little touches of Jane Eyre into the moodboard as well. I hope I didn’t go too sappy on this one - Enjoy! 💕

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Thinkin’ ‘Bout Forever

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none…just a bunch of sappiness and maybe a bit of Tommy being ooc

Summary: (Y/N) asks Tommy a question that’s been burning in her brain for the longest time. She gets a rather surprising response.

“Do you think we’ll be in love forever?”

“What?” Tommy asked upon hearing (Y/N) speak out of nowhere. She spoke so suddenly that he wasn’t able to properly catch what she was saying. He turned away from the mirror, where he was adjusting the cufflinks of his shirt, and fixed his gaze on (Y/N), who was standing by the windows of their shared bedroom.

“You and I…do you think we’ll be in love forever?” she repeated herself, looking over at him once she was finished speaking.

Tommy let out a breath of a laugh, looking away from her the second she met his gaze. He glanced down at the floor, setting his hands on his hips as he cleared his throat. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer that, love,” he told her, looking in her direction again.

“A simple yes or no would suffice,” she answered nonchalantly, tipping her chin up slightly as a smile played on her lips.

Tommy looked away again, licking his lips as he ran a hand down the back of his head. He then refound her gaze, holding it for a few moments before he began walking in her direction without a word. A glint of surprise shined in (Y/N)’s eyes as she watched him move, wondering what he’d do next.

He reached out and took hold of her waist, making her giggle as he pulled her in closer to his frame. She glanced down and grabbed onto the sides of the unbuttoned waistcoat he was wearing, wondering how he’d react if she went about buttoning it up. She didn’t have much time to wonder though, because in seconds, he reached up and gently took hold of her chin, tipping it upwards so that their eyes could meet again.

“Since when’ve you been thinkin’ ‘bout forever, eh?” he asked her, his one eyebrow rasied.

(Y/N) pursed her lips together as she tried her best not to let her feelings show through her features. Inside she was heating up quickly, unable to keep her cool under his close, intense gaze. There was something present in his eyes, something unreadable, but not entirely foreign. No, she’d seen it before…he always seemed to have that look when his eyes were fixed on her.

“Hmm?” he asked her when she didn’t respond.

“I just…I think about it sometimes,” she answered this time around, hoping that she didn’t sound like some kid who was sheepishly admitting that they’d did something wrong. Because this wasn’t something she’d done wrong.

“Yeah?” his single word response came out like a question. He’d always answer this way when he caught on to the fact that she wasn’t sharing all of her thoughts…like she wasn’t now.

“Yeah,” she responded, nodding as best should could with her chin trapped between his fingers, “don’t you ever think about forever?” she turned the question back on him, eyes shining again.

“Love, forever’s a long time…” he told her, watching to see how she’d react to the first part of his sentence. Her expression didn’t show anything, but he could feel her posture slump slightly in his hold. He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing, “but I can’t say that I haven’t thought about spending it with you.”

“Tommy,” she couldn’t help but breathe out when she heard the second half of his statement. He was usually a man of few words when it came to sappy or romantic situations, choosing instead to let his actions do the talking. But now that she’d heard him say this she was sure that she’d feel the desire to coax these sort of declarations out of him daily.

“You asked the question,” he reminded her, his thumb brushing against her chin, “I was just answerin’ it for you.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to make me want to go weak at the knees with your answer,” she defended herself, glancing down at his waistcoat as she fiddled with the buttons of it.

“What were you expecting?” he decided to ask, dropping his hand back to where his other sat on the swell of her hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of her dress as he awaited her response.

“I…I don’t know, but I can’t quite say that I was expecting that,” she sheepishly answered, definitely sounding like a child who’d done something wrong…although she still hadn’t done something wrong.

“Were you expecting some half-assed response? Eh?” he questioned, the slight pressure he placed on her hips making her look up at him again, “were you expecting me to dodge the question entirely?”

“Honestly…?” she trailed off with a question, her eyebrow raised as she held the pause for a few moments, trying to push back the grin that was threatening to surface as she noticed his look of anticipation. “Yes, I was expecting that,” she then told him, her smile breaking through as she saw the look of surprise that formed on his face.

“Well, love,” he started, trying to hold his composure as he let out a breath of a laugh, “I’ll say that it’s hard not to think of forever when I’ve got someone like you.” He expected her to laugh at his sappy statement. He expected her to want to break away and go and tell every and anybody that she could that Tommy Shelby’s cold front had been cracked, but she didn’t.

“I know what you mean,” she said instead, a soft smile forming on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “and that’s because I’ve got you.”

Tommy chuckled softly before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. She gasped against his lips, surprised by the sudden kiss, but she didn’t dare pull away. Letting go of the now properly fastened waistcoat, she brought her hands up to his cheeks, holding him close as the kiss deepened.

“I don’t know why you buttoned that,” he mumbled against her lips, referring to the waistcoat she’d finally abandoned.

“I know how to unbutton it just as well,” she told him, kissing him through a grin as his hold on her tightened. She couldn’t help but lean back against the window’s ledge, allowing him to slot his leg between hers as she propped herself up slightly.

“Forever, eh?” he asked, pulling back just enough to match his eyes to hers. He saw them brighten, and that alone was enough to bring a smile to his features.

“Forever,” she agreed, tugging on his jaw so that their lips could meet again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

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tightjeansjavi · 7 months

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your mind, your needs

A/N: so I genuinely had one of the worst days at work today. It started off okay, and then quickly spiraled downwards and by mid-afternoon, I broke. I decided to write this Joel comfort piece as a self indulgence, but I also hope this brings comfort to anyone that has had a rough day/week. Enjoy 🤎

~word count: 2.5k~

Summary: after a shitty stressful day at work, your long-time boyfriend Joel Miller comforts you in the way he knows best.

Warnings: none, AU/no!outbreak, fluff, bantering, soft intimacy, established relationship, pet names, no use of y/n, reader has no physical descriptions, moodboard is just for aesthetics, no age gap, feelings, breaking down in the workplace, comfort, soft! Joel, comforting! Joel, Joel is just the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. (+18) minors dni!

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

main masterlist masterlist

Your long-term boyfriend, Joel Miller, knew your needs as if they were on the back of his hand. He knew just by your body language alone if you needed space, or if you needed some form of comfort from him. He picked up on all your little quirks. Your habits, both good and bad. The things you loved, and the things you hated, and everything in-between. He knew that when you’d have a good day at work you’d hang your keys and coat up in their designated spot on the hooks against the wall in the main entryway. Your shoes would be neatly tucked away, and there would always be a candle burning on the kitchen counter. On your rough days, your keys and purse would be thrown on the table in the hallway. Your shoes would be kicked off on the doormat, and there would be no candle burning.

Your morning started off as it normally would but by lunch time? You were fed up and on the verge of breaking down into tears. Nothing was going right. Your emails were blowing up and it just felt like you could inevitably no longer keep up with the high demand that was tossed on your plate. Normally you’d go out to lunch with coworkers, but today you isolated yourself in your car. You picked a shady spot under a nearby tree in the parking lot and parked your car. It was a beautiful day and it made you feel guilty that you chose to sit in your car instead of socializing with your coworkers. The tears were on-coming as you dialed Joel’s number. The only time that you’d call Joel on your lunch break was if you were having a bad day, or if you were going to be home late.

“Hey darlin.’ How's my pretty girl doin?’ You enjoyin’ the nice weather we’ve been havin?’” His butter-smooth Texas twang was an instant comfort to your present overwhelmed state of mind.

“Hey, baby. Could be better.” You murmured into the receiver. You could picture Joel’s furrow between his brows, and the soft pout playing on his lips from your answer.

“Somethin’ wrong honeybun? Y’havin’ a rough day?..” He softly asked as he leaned back against the side of his truck.

“I just feel like I can’t fucking do anything right today Joel. I’m sitting in my car, alone, because I just can’t take it right now. I feel like I'm about to combust.” You spoke exasperatedly as you slumped back into the driver's seat.

“Sweet girl, I'm sure that ain’t true. Jus’ havin’ a rough day? You wanna talk about it, or do ya need some space? Y’know I'm always here to listen.” He softly reassured you.

“Can we..talk when you get home later? I just wanted to briefly try and decompress from the situation. What time are you off?”

“Course we can talk at home, honey. I should be home a little after five..anythin’ special you want for dinner?”

“Tacos? From that place that we really like?..”

“Mm. Those are pretty good. I’ll pick ‘em up on my way home, okay sweet girl? Jus’ try’n power through the rest of your day. I know it's tough, but it’ll be alright.” He wished that he was there with you right now just so he could give you a well-deserved hug and soft kiss on the forehead.

“Okay. Thank you baby. I’ll try my best to power through. I’ll see you at home, and I love you.”

“‘Atta girl. I believe in ya. See you at home, and I love you too.”

Your day only seemed to plummet even further than it did before lunch. You couldn’t get a grasp on the emails, five people were asking you to do multiple tasks at once. Your phone was ringing non-stop, and you finally broke. You retreated to the bathroom, hoping to god that none of the other office ladies were in there. Much to your relief, you were alone. Your tears didn’t fall right away. You tried to hold them at bay as you practiced your breathing exercises that Joel generously taught you. It wasn’t working and it felt like the already cramped bathroom stall was closing in on you. When your tears finally broke past your waterline, you finally let all of your pent up emotion out.

The rest of your afternoon went by in a blur, and when you were finally back in your car after a long day, you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply in through your nose with your eyes softly closed and exhaled through your mouth. The day was over, and you could finally go home.

When Joel had arrived home later that evening, a little after five, he wasn’t surprised to find your shoes left untidy on the doormat. Your keys and purse were thrown haphazardly on the table in the hall, and there was no familiar scent of one of your many candles. The home you shared together was cozy and welcoming. Photographs of you together and your friends and family could be found in every room. When you first agreed to move in together three years ago, you had a conjoined idea to have separate rooms. At first your friends thought it was a bit odd that you and Joel weren’t sleeping together every night, but it actually was beneficial to your relationship. You were able to have your own space to wind down in, and so was Joel. The best part? On the nights you did sleep together, it was like you were having a sleepover.

“Hey honey? I’m home darlin’, and I come bearing tacos.” He set the bag of takeout on the counter before he padded down the hall. He knew that if your bedroom door was closed this meant that you were needing space. He respected this of course and he always would knock so that you could continue to have your privacy.

You could hear his footsteps padding down the hall and coming to a halt outside your door. His knuckles gently thrummed against the wood three times. “Darlin?’ S’okay if I come in? Or do you still wanna be alone? Tacos are on the counter if you're hungry.” His head was bowed downwards as he let out a soft sigh.

You were completely burrowed and cocooned under the blankets. You reached your arm up and wiped your tear stained cheeks on the sleeve of Joel’s hoodie that you were wearing. The material was worn down but his scent continued to linger.

“You can come in, Joel.” Your tone was soft and muffled through the blanket. Despite this, Joel was able to hear it and he gave you a few seconds to change your mind before he was grasping the door handle and gently pushing the door open. You felt the unoccupied side of the bed slowly dip and crease from the weight of Joel’s body sinking down on the comforter.

“Y’know, if ya keep stealin’ my hoodies like this, I ain’t gonna have much to wear anymore, my pretty baby.” He murmured with a soft amusing chuckle.

“Shuddup.” You rolled over onto your side and gently swatted at his arm with your cheek squished into the pillow.

“There she is. There’s my pretty girl.” He had a soft smile gracing his face to match the softness in his eyes as he looked over at you.

“Even when my cheeks are all puffy and my eyes are all red from crying? I’m still your pretty girl?” You softly teased as you reached for his hand.

“That’s when I think you’re the prettiest. How long have ya been cooped up in here?” He gently grasped your hand in his own and interlocked your fingers through his.

“Oh, you hush. Don’t make me fall in love with you even more.” You hummed as you scooted closer to him. You were seeking his comfort, and he gladly indulged in your wishes. “I’ve been here since I got home. I seriously thought the day was never going to end Joel.” You let out a huff as you nuzzled your cheek into his shoulder as his free arm gently looped around your waist and tugged you in close.

“Baby, i’m just speakin’ the truth. You wanna talk ‘bout your day? You sounded real upset earlier..I was thinkin’ about you for the rest of my shift. I know you’ve been stressed at work lately, but is there anythin’ I can be doin’ to alleviate that stress for you?” His lips were gently pressed to your forehead and he gently squeezed your hand that was still presently wrapped around his.

“It just felt like the work was never ending, and everytime I tried to catch up, more work was thrown at me and I guess I just broke after lunch. I was working on emails and then these last minute orders came in and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I went to the bathroom to try and calm my nerves, but I broke down into tears instead. I just feel like no matter what I do, it isn’t good enough. My best isn’t my best, and there's more that I could be doing. I just feel like I failed as an employee today. Honey, all I need you to do is keep holding me and sweet talking me up. You just being here and listening to me is all the comfort I truly need.”

Joel let your words sink in as he thought deeply over what his response would be. “Baby, y’know it’s perfectly okay to feel like you can’t get all the work done, right? You don’t gotta push yourself to that breakin’ point. At the end of the day, it’s just a job, and you’re one person. I understand it can be overwhelmin’ at times, and y’know what? I’m extremely proud of you letting it out in a healthy way instead of jus’ bottlin’ that shit up. Your body was lettin’ y’know that it needed to release all that pent up frustration. I also want ya to know that you are good enough. You're a good employee who cares about gettin’ the work done, but ya need to be kinder to yourself darlin.’” Joel was always honest with you; it was one of the main reasons why it was so easy to fall in love with him. He never lied, and even when his own emotions were tough to sift through, he’d always be honest on how he was feeling.

“I know it’s okay if I don’t get everything done, and sometimes I’m okay with it. Sometimes I’m not because I feel like if I don’t do it, who will? If I don’t get all the emails taken care of, who’s going to do it in my place? I can only rely on my coworkers to a certain point Joel. You’re right. I do need to be kinder to myself, especially in the workplace. It’s a real struggle for me, and I’m working on changing that view on myself.”

“You jus’ gotta trust that you’re doin’ a good job. As long as you do your best, no one's gonna fault ya for that. You’re only human. Your brain only has a limited capacity to handle a certain amount of stress. That ain’t on you honey. Jus’ when you start feelin’ overwhelmed, jus’ remember that you can step away and go for a walk, or take a breather. Hell, you can call me whenever you want. I’ll always be there to talk you through it. I’m always gonna be here to listen and support you.”

You gently let go of his hand just so you could fully wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your legs tangled through his as you draped your arms around his neck with your fingers lightly toying with soft hairs at the nape of his neck. “How do you always say the right thing everytime? You just know exactly what it is that I need to hear.”

“Can’t reveal my secrets to ya baby. I’m just real good at readin’ ya. What can I say? I’m a natural.” He chuckled as his other arm came to rest along your lower back with his fingers gently splayed under the fabric of his hoodie that you were wearing. He was rubbing soothing circles into your skin as a comforting gesture. “I jus’ don’t like seein’ my girl upset. Breaks this poor man’s heart. Jus’ wanna be there for ya in any way that I can.”

“You are indeed a natural, Joel.” You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling softly when he scrunched his nose up and playfully wiggled his eyebrows at you like the goof that he was. “I appreciate you giving me my space, and then being here to comfort me. I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate it.”

“‘Course, baby. Y’do the same for me. It’s mutual, and it makes me feel good inside that I can bring ya a sense of comfort even on your toughest days.” He softly murmured.

“Can we please go and eat tacos now and then watch a movie or something?” Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him from where your cheek was resting against the crook of his shoulder.

“Baby, you don’t gotta ask me twice. Jus’ as long as you keep those toesicles away from me. Deal?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his remark about your apparently frigid feet. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as you slowly shook your head, “Joel, my feet are not that cold. You’re just being a big baby about it.”

“Nuh-uh. Those toes? They’re literal icicles. Put some socks on ‘em.” He playfully teased as he stole a quick kiss on your lips.

“You’re the worst.”

“Ah, but ya love me baby. You love me sooo much.” He singsonged as he coaxed you to sit up in his arms.

“Yeah, I do love you quite a lot. You might actually be my favorite person in the entire world.”

“Oh god, you’re evil. G’nna make me cry now. Cats out of the bag, darlin.’ Cus’ you’re my favorite person in the entire goddamn world too.”

“Disgusting.” You teased and he immediately went in to tickle you. Your joined laughter echoed through your bedroom. The sound of love, understanding, and feeling.

For the rest of the evening, you and Joel spent it on the couch eating your tacos and watching whatever movie you could find that would lift your spirits. Your sock-clad feet rested comfortably along his lap as he gently massaged your calves. He was focused on the colorful screen while you were focused on his jaw-dropping stunning side profile. Who the hell allowed this man to not only be beautiful on the outside, but also within. You loved that man with your everything, and he loved you just the same.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

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seungkw1 · 2 months

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the truth is out there — csc

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ wc: 8.2k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted.

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.”

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head.

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the two months you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed.

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette.

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, Y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional.

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues.

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true.

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response.

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished.

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure.

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster.

“Great. We’re counting on you, Y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent.

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator.

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess.

—-

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good ten minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside.

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40.

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you.

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state.

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing.

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent Y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor.

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit.

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately.

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours.

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

You quickly skim the details: a series of disappearances in a small town, all teenagers. So far, no bodies have been found. Local law enforcement has compiled a list of suspects, but they don’t seem to have many leads.

“Okay, so we have a potential serial killer.”

Choi shakes his head. “That’s what the local police think. Which seems reasonable, unless you’re familiar with the location.”

You glance back at the file. Spirit Lake, Iowa.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a known UFO hotspot. Sightings have been reported for decades, most notably in 1967 when there were three different sightings - one of which was caught on camera by two different witnesses.”

He hands you a stack of old polaroids. You flip through the grainy photographs, which all appear to showcase an ambiguous but distinct saucer-shaped object in the night sky.

You stare at your new partner. “Choi, this could be anything. Most so-called UFO ‘sightings’ are nothing more than aircraft that are very much from Earth.”

“The U.S. Weather Service officially stated that it was a weather balloon, however no weather balloons were launched within 500 miles that day. There were also no flights - civilian or military - on record for the area that night.”

“And have you considered that this could all just be a hoax?”

“Sure, it could be. But what if I told you that in 1967 there were also three recorded disappearances, all coinciding with the UFO sightings?”

He hands you a separate case file on the 1967 disappearances. All of the cases are closed, as the three who went missing eventually turned up again - unable to account for what happened to them, but otherwise unharmed.

You close the file, setting it on the desk. “So let me get this straight: you think these people were all abducted by aliens. And you think the exact same scenario is happening again, this year?”

“There have been three recent UFO sightings in the area reported, and we have three missing teens. It all matches up.”

You stand there in silence, at a loss for words. Guess everyone was right, you think to yourself. The man is insane.

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” you finally respond. “How exactly are we supposed to contribute here? Looks like they’ve already exhausted all leads. Why the hell do we need to fly out to Iowa?”

Choi gives a knowing smile. “They found the first girl this morning. Alive. Barely remembers anything, but unharmed.”

“And you want to go catch some little green men.”

“Actually, ‘little green men’ is a misconception - known encounters have widely reported extraterrestrials to be gray-skinned and not that much smaller than us. But anyway, more or less - yes, we’ll be in search of evidence that alien life is making contact with humanity.”

You stand there in disbelief. So this is where you’ve ended up - in the basement with a madman on a wild goose chase. As you’re thinking about quitting on the spot, Choi goes back to his computer.

“Anyway I’ll get us booked for the first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he informs as he resumes his typing. “Want me to pick you up?

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Suit yourself.”

You wait for him to say something further, but he doesn’t. You turn to leave. As you approach the doorway you hear the creaking of his chair once more. Looking back, Choi is facing you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Y/ln.”

His expression is sincere. You may be stuck with a madman, but at least he’s not a complete asshole.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You feel Choi’s eyes follow you as you exit the room.

—

11 September 1993 Spirit Lake, Iowa

The gravel driveway crunches loudly as the rental car slows to a stop. Your partner shuts off the ignition and turns to face you, his left hand still resting on the wheel.

“Ready?”

You glare back at him. “You’re acting like this is my first case, Choi. I’ve done this before.”

You open your door and exit the car before he can reply. You’ve barely gotten started on this investigation, but he’s already on your nerves.

You approach the cottage-style house and ring the bell. A disgruntled-looking woman in her 40s opens the door.

“Mrs. Miller? I’m Agent Choi, and this is my partner Agent Y/ln.” You both raise your badges. “We’re here to speak with Alexandra, may we come inside?”

Mrs. Miller practically scowls at you. “She’s already spoken to the cops three times, leave us alone.” The door slams shut in your face.

You and Choi shoot a look at each other. You hear a voice shouting inside, followed by loud arguing. The door reopens to a young girl, high-school age, with jet black dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and a nose ring.

“Ignore my mom, she’s a huge bitch,” the girl says as she steps outside, slamming the door behind her. She marches past you. “I’ll talk to you, let’s walk.”

Choi raises his eyebrows at you as he turns to follow the girl. You join him.

“You must be Alexandra,” he says to the girl, who is still walking.

“Alex,” she corrects. The girl finally stops, turning around to face you. “Are you going to take me seriously or are you just going to laugh in my face like the cops did?”

“I believe you,” your partner assures her.

The girl turns to you, arms crossed. “I take it you’re the skeptic then?” Before you can respond she continues. “Trust me, I am too. I’ve always heard all the stories growing up about the abductions in this town, but I thought it was all bullshit. But I don’t know how else to explain what happened to me.”

“Can you start from the beginning?” Choi asks.

The girl sighs. “Yeah, sure. I was driving home from my friend Becky’s house, by myself. It was pretty late, like around 9pm. I was on Campbell Road, I had just passed the old schoolhouse. It was dark as shit and nobody else was around. Then suddenly there was this crazy bright light, it was all around me and I couldn’t see anything. I remember slamming on my breaks, but I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how long I was out, but I do remember waking up a few times and I swear I was in some like laboratory or something. I was laying down but I couldn’t move - I could just barely make out some figures standing over me. Then, next thing I know I’m walking down the road again, right where I was driving. No fucking clue how I got there. A deputy found me and took me to the hospital. They told me I was gone for six days. I had to talk to the cops like a hundred times, but there was nothing else wrong with me so they sent me home. And now everybody thinks I’m fucking crazy.”

“Nobody believes you, then,” your partner empathizes.

“The cops think I’m lying and that I ran off with my ‘boyfriend’ for a week,” she scoffs. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. But of course that’s what my mom believes now, so now I’m fucking grounded.”

“I’m sorry,” Choi tells her sincerely.

“Do you have any connections to the others who have gone missing?” you ask.

Alex shrugs. “I mean, we all go to school with each other, but I don’t really know them.”

Choi finds a piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbles something on it, then hands it to the girl.

“This is where we’re staying, if you remember anything else give us a call.”

On the drive back, Choi appears to make a wrong turn.

“You were supposed to go left,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “I want to check out the location where Alex was taken from.”

“Why?” you ask, “There’s nothing there. When they found the car they towed it.”

“Just want to check it out.”

You can tell you’re not going to get any further answers out of him, so you just sit there in silence, listening to whatever is on the local radio playing quietly in the background. Your stomach starts to rumble, so you glance at the clock: 4:54pm. No wonder, you think to yourself. You hadn’t stopped for lunch, so you were well overdue for a meal. You made a mental note to look out for restaurants on the way back.

“There’s the schoolhouse,” Choi points out a few minutes later. “We must be close.”

The sound of static fills the car as the radio cuts out. You fiddle with the knob, trying to find something else, but nothing is coming in. Guess we’re out of range.

Suddenly, the car goes silent as the engine dies. You’ve barely rolled to a stop when your partner jumps out of the car and starts running back the way you came.

“Where the hell are you going??” you shout after him. No response. With a sigh you exit the car as well. You see him standing in the road, looking at the ground. He turns as he hears you coming, pointing down to the road.

“See the tire marks? This must be where Alex hit the brakes.”

You look at the ground to see the black marks, indicating a car had braked abruptly.

“Our car shut off right as we passed this exact spot,” he says excitedly, jogging back to the rental car. As you follow, you hear him trying the ignition a few times, until the car finally turns back on.

“Look,” he commands as you re-enter the passenger seat. He points to the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:11pm. “What time do you have?”

You glance at your watch: 4:56pm.

“Many instances of alien activity result in residual electromagnetic fields. It’s often been reported that those visiting such sites will experience ‘missing time’, a phenomenon we appear to have just experienced.”

The look on his face is energized - borderline excited. You stare back at him, unenthused.

“Choi, just because my watch is wrong doesn’t mean we time traveled.”

“Then why did the car turn off in this exact spot?”

“It’s a machine, cars malfunction sometimes,” you respond, nearly exasperated. “You’re trying to connect dots that aren’t even here.”

“These events happening in tandem indicate that something abnormal is going on here, Y/ln. You’re choosing to ignore substantial evidence.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, holding your head in your hands.

Choi shifts the car into drive and makes a u-turn. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

On the drive back into town, you subtly watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drives in silence, but you can tell he’s deep in thought - about what, who knows. Despite his ridiculous antics and asinine beliefs, you admit that his passion is oddly inspiring. You find yourself starting to grow fond of your new partner for some strange, inexplicable reason.

You push that thought to the back of your mind.

—

13 September 1993

“Can you hand me the Ramos case file?”

You look around for the requested file, to no avail. You joined Choi in his motel room early in the morning to review case files, which is proving to be incredibly difficult as he is apparently one to haphazardly leave shit all over the room while he is working.

You finally locate the folder and toss it over to him. “You know, this might be easier if the entire place wasn’t an absolute disaster zone.”

“I like to call it organized chaos,” he says proudly.

It has been six days since the second kid, Mark Ramos, disappeared - and Choi is convinced that he’ll be “returned” today, given that Alex was found after the same amount of time. So, much to your displeasure he planned for you two to stake out the location where he was last seen: the parking lot of the gas station corner store where the boy works.

“Wow, that sounds enthralling,” you told him, deeply sarcastically.

As you are wrapping up prepping for the stakeout, the landline on the nightstand rings.

Your partner reaches and grabs the phone, stretching the cord across the room and placing the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he continues working.

“Choi,” he answers curtly.

You hear a muffled voice on the other end utter a few sentences before he stops what he’s doing. A tired look washes over his face.

“God fucking dammit. Alright, thanks.” He slams the phone back onto the base.

“They just found the kid. We missed it.”

You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to go sit in a car for hours now, but you keep that to yourself. He’s clearly peeved, and although you’ve never witnessed his bad side you’re discerning enough to know that you don’t want to be on it.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally.

To your surprise, he walks over to the bed - where you’re sitting - and plops down onto it, holding his head in his hands.

You sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask.

Your partner sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we had this one.”

You feel the urge to ask the question that’s been on the back of your mind since you met him, but he seems really dejected - and you don’t want to upset him. Fuck it, you decide.

“Can I ask you something?”

He lifts his head up, resting his chin on his interlaced hands as he looks over at you.

“Sure,” he answers. You find yourself starting to get lost in his big brown eyes, but you force yourself to snap out of it.

“Why are you so obsessed with aliens? I mean - it seems like more than just an interest for you. It seems… personal, almost.”

Choi exhales, closing his eyes. He sits up, leaning back onto his hands, staring into the distance with a sense of sadness in his expression.

“When I was 12, my younger brother and I were very close. We were three years apart, but we had so much in common.

He pauses, lost in thought for a moment. He continues.

“Jinsang and I always shared a bedroom. We had a bunk bed, he slept on the top bunk.” He smiles wistfully. “He loved it up there. Always called himself ‘king of the world’. Even as he got older, he never lost his childlike wonder. He was the definition of pure at heart.”

You listen solemnly. You honestly were expecting some off-the-wall answer from him - you didn’t anticipate that it’d be anything so serious.

“Late one night, I was supposed to be asleep, but I was reading a book under the covers with my flashlight. Suddenly there was a blinding light that filled the room, and a deafeningly loud whirring noise that made me cover my ears. I pulled the blanket off me, but the only thing I could make out was some dark figures standing in the room. I couldn’t see who it was, so I assumed it was my parents. I called out for them, but the figures didn’t move. It was so loud and so bright. I was terrified.

Then - I heard my brother scream. He was screaming for help, but I was paralyzed. Suddenly everything stopped. The light and the sounds disappeared in an instant. I looked where the figures were standing, but nobody was there. I didn’t hear my brother anymore either. I jumped out of bed to check on him - but he wasn’t in his bed. I started to panic. I told myself maybe he had run out of the room, but I knew I didn’t see or hear him climb down. I ran to my parents crying, ‘Jinsang’s gone!’ They searched the house, but he wasn’t there. They searched the neighborhood, thinking he had run away, but he wasn’t anywhere. The police investigation went on for months. They never found him.”

He rests his head back on his hands. You sit there silently, not knowing what to say. Your mind races, trying to process his words: So, he believes his brother was abducted by aliens? He may be strange, but he’s not mentally disturbed, I really don’t believe he would just make something like that up… But what can the explanation be? Is it a false memory created as a trauma response to his brother disappearing?...

“I’m so sorry,” you finally tell him. Without thinking you place your hand on his shoulder - but after a moment you realize how awkward that might be. He’s your assigned work partner - you met him three days ago. But, you feel his tension slightly ease - your touch seems to be relaxing him. Choi lets out a deep exhale and sits up - you quickly drop your hand back to your side. He rests his palms on the bed, just barely grazing your pinky finger. You hold your breath as a spark of electricity rushes through your body - you ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely. “I know how it sounds to other people. But that’s why I get so invested in these cases. I have to know the truth, Y/ln.”

You sit in silence for a few moments.

“Well,” you finally speak as you get up, returning to the scattered files, “if your theory is correct we have one last chance.”

Choi perks up, a surprised look on his face. He stares at you for a moment, then grins as he processes what you just said. You grin back at him.

“Let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”

— 14 September 1993

Your stakeout plans are back on - this time you’ll be surveilling in the middle of the woods, by the lake, where Mark had disappeared when camping with friends. Choi wakes you unnecessarily early with rapid knocking on your door. You answer in your pajamas, half asleep still. He invites himself into your room as he brushes past you and slams more files on the table. Turning to you earnestly, he begins to recant the game plan.

“Choi,” you interrupt, trying to shut him up. He doesn’t hear you. He rambles on - practically bouncing with excitement.

“Choi,” you repeat, this time louder. He stops, his round eyes animated with enthusiasm.

“Yeah?”

“It’s 6:30 in the morning. We’re staking out the location tonight.”

“And?”

“You could’ve at least let me sleep in til 7.”

“No time to lose!” he says eagerly as he turns back to his work, picking up where he left off. You let him yap for a minute before interrupting him once more.

“Can I at least get some coffee first?”

You head to the nearby shitty diner together, Choi of course working through breakfast. You can tell through his excited state that he’s on edge. This has to go right - it is, according to him, the best chance he’s ever had. You spend the day going over everything, reviewing every last little detail - cooperating with whatever he needs, whether it be tactical or simply supportive. Before you know it the sun starts to go down, and you’re on your way to the middle of fucking nowhere together, to find some aliens.

Choi parks the car on the rocky path near the shore, killing the engine. It’s quiet out here - peaceful. The lake is bigger than you expected, and surprisingly beautiful as it reflects the painted colors of the sun-setting sky.

“Romantic, isn’t it?”

You turn and look at your partner, intending to make some snide remark, but all thoughts in your mind vanish when you see him. The golden tones of the dusk sunrays bring out a beautiful glow in his skin, his brown eyes radiating in the light; you knew he was good-looking, but seeing him this close - he is absolutely stunning.

The logical part of your brain starts setting off alarms - you know you should be feeling uncomfortable in the intimacy of the whole situation (he’s your coworker for gods’ sake!!) but it couldn’t be more opposite. The other part of your brain simply has the urge to lean in and kiss him.

“Mhmm, sure,” you reply, feigning sarcasm, veiling your true feelings.

You chat informally with Choi (“You can call me Seungcheol,” the memory of his words flashes through your mind), conversation flowing naturally as you both talk about whatever comes to mind. You find yourself laughing more often than not, and you find yourself relating to your partner more than you ever anticipated. It’s easy being with him.

Logical brain is absolutely screaming at you right now. There’s no fucking way you can allow yourself to develop feelings for your work partner - you know this.

I’m allowed to like him as a friend, you say to yourself. You’re gonna be working with him for god knows how long, of course you need to get along. But you’re not convinced.

Conversation wanes into the night as darkness falls over the lake. You feel your eyelids grow heavy. Choi notices.

“You can sleep if you want,” he tells you. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. But it’s quiet, dark - and soon you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

You jolt awake, instantly blinded by the overpowering light surrounding you. A deafening booming noise permeates the air - you don’t know what it is, but it sounds like the rumbling of a thousand jet engines.

You can’t see shit, but you can tell Choi isn’t in the car. You heave open the passenger door, straining to push it open against the rush of wind engulfing the vehicle. Once your eyes adjust somewhat you find your partner about 15 feet away, camera in hand. You look up, but you can’t make out the massive object hovering over the lake - all you can see is five giant blinding spheres of light in the sky.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” you scream to your partner - but he doesn’t hear you.

Suddenly, everything stops.

The lights, sound, and wind disappear in an instant. Disoriented in the dark, you stumble over to where Choi was standing, but you realize he’s gone - your eyes adjust and you see him sprinting down the lakeshore. In the distance you see another figure, laying on the ground. Choi approaches the figure, kneeling down next to it. You head toward them, but he turns to you and shouts from afar.

“CALL FOR BACKUP!!”

—

The figure on the beach indeed had been the missing boy. The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - but just as the previous two missing kids, he was okay. The next day you and Choi were able to get in and talk to him briefly before being shooed out by the nurse. It was the same story as the others - he didn’t remember anything, but he was completely unharmed.

Three out of three missing people now returned, safe and alive - your business here is done. You can finally get the fuck out of Iowa.

You’re pretty thrilled about leaving, but Choi is ecstatic. You remind him neither of you actually solved anything, but he doesn’t care. He got his photos of whatever the fuck was above the lake that night - it doesn’t answer all of his questions, but nevertheless he got what he came for.

It’s dark by the time you depart from the hospital, driving back to go pack up your things so you can leave first thing in the morning.

Choi parks the car, and you walk back to your rooms. As you approach the motel, he suddenly swings his arm out in front of you to stop you - the door to your room is slightly ajar, the lock broken. Choi draws his gun, and you follow suit. Holding up his fingers, he silently counts down from three. He bursts through the door, sweeping the room. You follow, turning on the light to see the entire room has been utterly ransacked - the contents of your suitcase as well as all the files from your briefcase are strewn everywhere.

Choi pops out of the bathroom. “All clear, but the bathroom window is open - if they were just here, they still might be nearby.” He sprints out of the room, pausing briefly and motioning for you to wait. “You stay here, I’ll sweep the area.” He’s gone in a flash.

You turn around and grimace at the absolute mess left behind by whoever the fuck was here. With a sigh you begin to clean up the mess, starting by gathering all the documents. As you sort through them all to put them back in some sort of order, you note that everything seems to be there. Your personal belongings all seem to be accounted for as well. Whatever they were searching for, they clearly didn’t find it.

Choi reappears in your room, sweating and breathing heavily. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Nobody in sight. Asked the manager if he saw anything suspicious, but he clearly didn’t know shit.”

He removes his suit jacket and throws it on the table before plopping down in the singular chair. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything missing?”

You shake your head. “Not a single thing.”

“Shit,” Choi mumbles under his breath. “They were probably looking for my room.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who-”

He waves his hand at you, interrupting. “Don’t worry about it.”

You are worried about it, but you know he’s not going to elaborate even if pressed.

“Okay. Well, I want to shower and go to sleep, so kindly get the fuck out.” Your tone isn’t angry, you’re just exhausted.

Choi gets up, but instead of leaving he deadbolts the door and returns to his seat.

“Absolutely not, what if they come back? I’ll keep watch.”

You give him the most exasperated look. “Are you shitting me? I don’t need you to keep guard, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking that chance,” he insists as he crosses his arms.

You’re stubborn as hell, but in the short time you’ve known Seungcheol Choi he’s done nothing but give you a run for your money in that department.

You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue with him. “Fine, whatever. Just give me some privacy, alright?”

Choi salutes you as he turns his chair around. “Roger that.”

You shower and make your way back to your bed. Choi is still sitting in the chair, facing the locked door, his gun and holster sitting on the table right next to him.

“Are you going to be able to sleep in that chair?” you ask. “Looks uncomfortable.”

Without turning, he replies. “I won’t be sleeping.”

“Seriously? You don’t need to stay up all night just to-”

“I’m not sleeping, Y/ln, it’s not up for debate.”

You stare at the back of his head. Sighing, you pull the covers up and go to turn off the lamp, but you pause.

“Choi?” you call out in a soft voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He turns his head ever so slightly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Goodnight, Y/ln.”

With a swift click you pull the chain on the lamp, and the room is flooded in darkness. As your eyes adjust, the moonlight seeps in past the closed blinds, and you can just make out Choi’s shadow as he keeps watch. Protecting you.

Within seconds, you are fast asleep.

—

You open your eyes, the bright early morning sun rays peeking in through the window. You lay there, contemplating going back to sleep, when you remember the events of last night. You sit up abruptly to see your partner still in the chair, still facing the door, awake.

“Did you really stay up the whole night?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Choi turns around, his eyes tired but still alert. He nods.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? Very quietly - it’s cute.”

“Oh, shut up” you grumble as you get out of bed.

Choi rises and grabs his jacket before heading toward the door. “Get ready, we have to be at the airport in an hour.” The door shuts behind him before you can respond with something snarky.

As you make your way to the parked car with your suitcase, you see your partner waiting for you - zoned out in the driver’s seat.

You yank the driver’s side door open, startling him as he nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him sternly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m driving.”

“I’m fine, Y/n.”

You go to yell at him when you pause, realizing he just called you by your first name for the first time. He must be delirious, you think to yourself.

“No, you’re not. And I’d like to make it back home in one piece, thank you.”

“Y/n-”

“Seungcheol Choi get your dumb ass out of the fucking car NOW.”

The expression that washes over his face looks like that of a scolded puppy. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to shout at him.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you win.” He gets out of the car, walking around to the passenger side. As he opens the door he looks at you, trying to conceal the grin spreading across his face, but failing.

“I like you like this. You should yell at me more often.”

You stare at him, exhausted. “You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a wink as he disappears into the car.

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time this week. After a few deep breaths, you reluctantly join your partner in the car.

“And since when do you call me by my first name?” you inquire as you turn the ignition. The car engine comes to life with a rumble.

Choi looks at you, his eyelids heavy. He gives you a sleepy smile as you back out of the parking space.

“I told you you can call me Seungcheol,” he reminds you.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives no response, but shrugs, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a brief moment. His black curls lay unruly against his forehead, brushing against his long eyelashes. A faint shadow graces his jawline - the result of not having shaved today. The top few buttons of his shirt remain undone; he didn’t even bother with a tie. Once again, you find yourself stunned by how handsome he is. You push that thought away as your attention returns to operating the vehicle. You shift gears and pull out of the lot.

“Take a nap, dummy,” you tell him softly.

—

Not five minutes have passed into your drive before the sound of gentle snoring greets your right ear. You glance over to see Choi positively zonked out in the passenger seat. A grin involuntarily appears on your face - he may be a headstrong pain in the ass, but even the toughest agents eventually fall victim to the cursed necessity of sleep.

The “highway” out of town toward the airport is nothing more than a vacant country road. You drive for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a single other car. In the absence of Choi yammering on about some off-kilter conspiracy theory, or recounting a tale of a previous case that seems too fantastical to be true, your mind starts to wander. The events of the past week replay in your head. Unlike your partner you don’t quite believe you saw an alien spaceship, but whatever it was certainly is making you question a lot of things.

Your musings are cut short when Choi suddenly jolts awake, nearly making you jump.

“Jesus, Choi, you scared me.”

He blinks dully a few times, the gears in his head creaking back to life as he tries to reorient himself. After a brief moment of mild panic he regains lucidity, slumping back into his seat with a groan. He yawns as he rubs his eyes.

“Sorry,” he responds drowsily.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? It’s cute,” you jest, repeating his words from earlier back to him. After a moment, he realizes.

“Fuck off,” he mumbles - but out of the corner of your eye you see him grin.

You turn the radio on low volume, tuning into the rock station the dial was already set on. A few minutes pass without words, the crooning voice of Mick Jagger supplementing the conversation. Suddenly, Choi perks up, looking in the rear view mirror before turning around to peer out the back window. You glance in the mirror to see a dark car in the distance.

“Finally, some sign of life,” you remark. “I was beginning to think we’d entered The Twilight Zone or something.”

Choi says nothing, but you notice the concern on his face. I wish he would stop being so paranoid, you think to yourself. He turns back around but keeps his eye on the mirror. Not even a minute later he snaps his head back to look out the rear window again.

“Shit,” he exclaims, his voice disgruntled.

You look in the mirror again to see the same car, rapidly approaching as it speeds toward you. Your eyes dart forward again, only to see another dark car up ahead - parked in the middle of the two-lane road, creating a blockade.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously.

“Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating.

“CHOI.”

“Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands.

You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it.

The car following you parks, also blocking the road behind you. Two men in dark suits emerge from each car and casually surround the rental. One of them, from the car in front, walks over to the passenger side of your rental - he knocks on the glass twice.

“Get out of the car.”

Choi unbuckles his seatbelt, taking his time, before reaching for the door handle. He pulls the latch and opens the door slowly.

“Both of you.”

Your partner turns to you. “Do what they say,” he says quietly.

You follow the mystery man’s orders. It’s early, but the sun already stings your skin as you step out of the car.

You look at the men, trying to get some sense as to who they are, but you’ve never seen any of them before - you presume they would have nothing on themselves that would give any sort of identification anyway. The men’s guns remain in their holsters, but their hands rest on the frames. You don’t doubt that they would shoot you in a heartbeat if you made any funny moves.

“Open the trunk,” the same man orders to neither of you in particular. His tone is stern, but not overly aggressive.

You make eye contact with your partner. He gives you a slight nod.

You take the keys from the ignition and walk to the rear, inserting them in the lock and turning the key. The trunk lid gives a loud clunk as it pops open. The man signals to the two men that came up from behind you - they approach the trunk, pushing you out of the way as they open it. Choi’s hands clench into a fist, but he doesn’t move.

The men carelessly rummage through the trunk’s contents until they find what they were apparently looking for: Choi’s camera bag. The man opens it and pulls out the chunky Nikon, removing its film.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Choi shouts angrily.

Once the other man finishes fishes out the remaining film canisters from the bag, they put the camera back. They signal to the ringleader - he nods. The other men immediately return to their car.

The man in charge claps his hand onto Choi’s shoulder forcefully.

“Thank you, Agents Choi and Y/ln - very much for your cooperation,” he says smugly. Choi shoves the man’s hand off his shoulder, teeth clenched. Without another word, the man heads back to his car.

“You won’t get away with this forever,” Choi shouts after him.

The man keeps walking. He doesn’t even turn his head as he replies mockingly.

“Keep up the good work, Agent Choi.”

You watch the cocky bastard enter the driver’s seat - both cars immediately take off. It was over as quickly as it had begun.

You know Choi is infuriated, but more than anything he looks absolutely dejected. He leans onto the car, his head resting on his arm in defeat.

“Who were those men?” you ask him quietly - but you suspect he doesn’t know either.

He takes a few moments before he lifts his head, resuming his posture. His saddened eyes lock with yours.

“They’re the sons of bitches who make sure nobody knows the truth. Lying to the public, hiding information even from us - destroying all evidence that UFOs exist.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I really thought I had it this time. Turns out, I was just really fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” you tell him firmly. Softer, you add, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about… well, everything I guess.”

He laughs softly. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’m the crazy alien guy in the basement, after all.”

He nudges you with his elbow, his voice friendly. “You know, you’re alright Agent Y/ln.”

You smile. “You’re alright too, Seungcheol.”

His face lights up at the sound of his first name. He smiles back at you warmly.

“Now, let’s actually get the fuck out of Iowa,” he says with vigor.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

—

20 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat, Agent Y/ln.”

You sit in the sturdy oak chair across from the Assistant Director’s desk. You are, once again, joined by the nameless man - smoking his cigarette silently in the corner of the room.

“I read your report on the Iowa case,” Bergman tells you as he flips through the open file on his desk.

You wait for him to continue.

“It is certainly… of lower quality than your usual work.”

You hide a grimace. “What exactly was the problem with it, sir? I was very thorough.”

He gives you a tired look. “Yes, of course - but the report itself is not what I take issue with. What I take issue with is its contents. I assigned you to the x-files as a voice of reason - to rein in Agent Choi, not perpetuate his outlandish theories.

“With all due respect, sir, I followed standard protocol. My report gives no indication that I agree with Agent Choi’s conviction that what we saw was indeed a UFO, and that the government is responsible for some larger conspiracy - I simply detailed everything that I witnessed in Spirit Lake objectively as I experienced it.”

Bergman sighs before closing the file. “Alright, Agent Y/ln. You do good work. But next time, maybe try to prevent your partner from chasing after little green men.”

“They’re supposedly gray, actually. According to Agent Choi,” you inform him matter-of-factly.

Bergman stares at you, incredulous. He opens his mouth to say something, but gives up. He waves you out of his office.

“Dismissed.”

[to be continued…]

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#fic teaser #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fics #svt fics #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #s coups #choi seungcheol #scoups #s coups x reader #scoups x reader #scoups imagines #scoups fics #choi seungcheol x reader

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eeunoia · 5 months

Text

ENHYPEN Imagines

agape | sjy.

pairings: sim jaeyun x reader

synopsis: his pretty wings in exchange of the ability to walk over this sinful land. his immortality in exchange of a life where he can be with you. his loyalty in exchange to own and have you for himself. all of these, jake was willing to do. he’s a servant of God who turned into a sinner and you are his sin he happily committed.

word count: 12k

warnings: suic*de, suggestive themes (a little), angels/heaven vaguely mentioned, not proof read, wrong grammar (be nice).

special note: i just want to put disclaimer that this fic have no intention to disrespect any religion and so is God or anything heaven related. not everything written here are legit and purely from my imagination.

note: okay, first of all, i’m not so sure how i did with this fic. at first i thought i will put yandere theme here, but ends up going somewhere else. i hope you will like this because i did enjoyed writing this. let me know what you think about this fic through my asks. send asks please, it does help me a lot. thank you. ily and keep safe.

fic moodboard › here

Angels are known for their obedience, loyalty and beautiful appearance. With pretty wings and calm composure, they are often labelled only with good words. They have said to be the ones sent down to earth for various missions. They patrol the areas to deter crime.

Sometimes, they are tasked to guide someone back to heaven. Sometimes they are asked to do something else. But one of the main jobs an archangel can have is to look over a person and serve as their guardian angel. It said to be a very hard task, the hardest out of all. The angels sent for this mission are meticulously and strictly picked.

“They’re sending you then?” one of the angels asked the smiling boy. His eyes sparkles innocently together with his big beautiful wings.

Jaeyun stands out a lot from the other angels, not only because of his big pretty wings that are very unique, but also because of his ethereal visuals that made him even more distinct. Some says he was meant for this, that being an angel fits him like a puzzle piece. None can go against that thought as the said angel sure really look heavenly. With his blonde hair, sparkling eyes, pointy nose and plump red lips. He’s breathtaking.

“Yes. The higher rank archangel called me a while ago and gave me the name of the person I will soon look after to.” the boy’s fist balled in excitement. He looked giddy, hyper to the extent that he couldn’t keep himself from moving.

The angels around him showed an amused and curious expression. “That’s great! Is it a girl or a boy?”

He smiles, “A girl.”

They nodded their heads, “What’s her name?”

“Y/n.”

Saying that he’s excited was an understatement. His hands continuously fidgets, his lips caught in between his teeth and feet thumps in a distinct beat. The older angel turns his head and a smile breaks to his face at the younger one.

“You look so excited.”

“I am Sir!” and he even made a small dances.

He chuckles and guided him towards somewhere. His eyes grew a little big in amusement and his lips parted a bit. He heard about this part of their kingdom multiple times, how amazing and ethereal it was. But Jaeyun was beyond amused. It was nothing you can put into words to properly give justice to this magical place.

One by one, the upper angel tries to fill information to young, freshman, Jaeyun. He’s so adorably looking around, curious of every bits of his surroundings. How can he not be excited? He’s been waiting for this major role he finally gained himself for and now that he’s here he’s exhilirated. He promised he will do his best to serve only for the greater good.

“You will be looking after Y/n. She’s about your age.” he starts and shows him this beautiful girl that is currently studying inside a place he assumes to be her room.

Jaeyun was speechless that moment. His wide smile faltered for a bit, his throat felt dry, his chest tightens for an unknown reason and he just stared at the girl. Suddenly he felt like his heart are frantically beating. It was already like that moments before because of excitement, but now he feels like there’s just so much more.

The upper angel notices his behavior and didn’t take it as something serious. It wasn’t that unusual as it happens before whenever one gets to meet their first human to look after to. Angels naturally have this personality to adore and see humans as precious creatures. They just love them to bits and enjoys being around them.

Realizing that the younger one still couldn’t find the words to say, he decided to talk.

“Her previous guardian angel was tasked something different so we needed a new angel to guide her.”

Jaeyun finally snaps out of his trance and nodded. His eyes sparkles before he glanced back at you, looking distress while holding a thing that comes in a shape of a rectangle. You don’t look fascinated at what you’re looking at and rather frustrated painted over your face.

He was instructed that he will be sent to you right away. He doesn’t need to be hold back or stay for some kind of orientation about it. He was basically trained for this. He’s beeb preparing for this for as long as he can remember. Its one of the reason why they exist.

After giving some few reminders, he was guided towards somewhere. Jaeyun couldn’t hold his excitement to himself, lips stretched from side to side of his face, eyes so bright you can see from a distant how happy he is, and he cannot help to hop as he walks. Its the best day for him.

‘Jaeyun,’ a soft, almost impossible to hear sound of a voice calling his name made him halt from his steps.

He craned his neck to the sides, hoping to see someone calling out for him. The upper angel was already steps ahead of him, unaware of the interruption over to the younger one. Jake continues to turn his head, until he saw this gate. It was huge that even when you look up to try and see its end, it wasn’t visible. Cotton like clouds surrounds the golden metals that serves as a boundary between Jaeyun and the place on the other side.

He furrow his brows and approached closer, trying to take a peak through those metal gates. From where he is, he can see a staircase. It looks so magical.

Jaeyun gulps as he felt his breath slowly being taken away, astonished by the scenery right in front of him. Unconsciously, his hand extends towards the gate and before his bare fingers touch the metal object, a hand cease him.

His head snaps over to the side and he saw the upper angel. Jaeyun blushes out of shame. He doesn’t look mad, but he’s looming of something as he stares at him.

“Jaeyun,” he calls out like as if he was almost too late.

“You shouldn’t go near this gate.” he added that fueled more to his humiliation.

He didn’t know why he got too distracted to this place and comes closer it. He nods his head, lowering it a bit as he retrieve his arm after he let go.

“I’m sorry. It was so beautiful and I got curious so I thought I can have a l-look.” he says.

The upper angel didn’t show any bad reaction, but instead he smiles and craned his neck to look over his shoulder. His stares remains for a while before he faced Jaeyun once again.

“This is the forbidden passage.” he announced that made the younger one astound and left speechless. The color on his face almost drained as his eyes darts at the gate behind the higher ranked angel.

“It is normal for it to look so alluring. Mainly why the ministers built this big gates to keep angels away from here.”

Jaeyun heard about this passage. It was too popular between the angels. Apparently, there are two passages that exists in this kingdom. One, is the one called the ‘passage through life’ where angels use to go down the earth. The other one, is the one a few steps away from where Jaeyun is standing. The ‘forbidden passage’.

Nobody really knew what its like to be inside over this gate, or at least nobody made it back up here to tell what its like. They said that once you enter this gate and walk to the stairs of sufferings, there’s no going back. Its dead end for you.

“We should go.” and he guides him away from the forbidden passage.

Jaeyun gave a last glance to the gate before he lets himself be taken to the right passage he ought to be. Right in front, he can see angels lined up to go do their missions. Excitement once again crept over his chest and smiles starts to paint his face.

“Once you walk over there, you will know everything you need to know about your human.” the upper angel says smiling a little.

“Goodluck.”

Jaeyun nodded with a big smile before he lines along with the other angel. Anyone can tell from one look how excited and new Jaeyun is to his job. All of them can’t help but to spare him some glances, admiring his fascinating visuals that goes along well with his big pretty wings.

“All right, Jaeyun. We can do this.” he silently cheers himself and his eyes shuts adorably as he takes a step inside the passage.

There’s this tingling sensation over Jaeyun’s stomach and when he open his eyes, the first thing he notices is the familiarity of the room. Now, he’s so sure that he’s never been inside this space but it seems like he knew it like the back of his hand. Memories flood his mind, unfamiliar memories. It was obvious that it didn’t belong to him.

As he roam his eyes, he kept seeing vague images of a young girl. Seems like the memories belongs to her, to you, his human. The whole room are filled with memories that maybe she cherished for herself and now, Jaeyun’s there to keep them safe with him.

“Ugh,” a soft groan sends Jaeyun back to his senses.

When he look over his shoulder, he saw you. Sat in front of your desk, hands over your face looking in distress.

Jaeyun was stoned at his position. He doesn’t exactly know what to do at the moment. He’s basically here for you, but to see a human this close for the first time are fascinating and thrilling for the young angel.

He took courageous steps closer at the side of your table and tilts his head, trying to get a short glimpse of your face.

“Ah!” you slam your hands over the table making the angel jolt in surprise, his wings automatically covering him.

“I hate this subject.” you mumbled to yourself unaware of a beautiful pair of eyes watching you silently.

Jaeyun’s wings slowly retrieves. His eyes completely glued at your pretty face. He was lost of words and mind went blank. He felt like he was in clouds, utterly dazed at you. The young angel was unaware of the big smile spreading across his face as he stares even more.

He walks closer, leans his elbow at your table to stare at you carefully. You focused back on your homework and tries hard to understand whatever that is. As you busy yourself with your homework, Jaeyun was busy looking at you.

“Hello, y/n.” he whispers to himself as you aren’t capable of hearing his words.

He giggles while watching you scratch your head using the end of your pen, looking confused.

Seconds, minutes and hours passed by, Jaeyun didn’t get tired of watching you. He walks closer to check what stressing you out. He has no clue about any of it, but nods his head with a slightly furrowed brows. The angel adorably mirrors your emotions and giggles whenever you do cute facial expressions out of distress.

When the clock strikes twelve, Jaeyun notices how your eyes closes from time to time, yawning every five minutes and head bopping as sleep slowly pulls you. He instantly got worried of you hitting the table so he grabs a pillow, making sure none of it will be noticed by you. The sleep basically robbed your complete awareness of the things happening inside your room.

Just in time, Jaeyun slides the pillow before your head falls. He smiles and leans his back at your wall, crossing his arms. A look of satisfaction shows over his face.

Angels can manipulate and hold material things as long as no human will see it. They can’t physically touch them because angels don’t have that ability. They are also forbidden to use these abilities to their desire. Angels helps to guide people and not decide for them. In the end, humans will make the decisions.

“Sleepwell, princess.” he whispers and closes the light of your room so you can sleep more comfortably.

Jaeyun spreads his pretty wings and jumps out from your window. His smiles bigger and brighter than usual. The angel was unaware of what’s ahead of him.

It started innocent and pure. Jaeyun’s great with his job, he guides you and helps you as much as he can. His knowledge over this world grew along with his fondness over you. You got into Jaeyun’s system so much to the point that the angel couldn’t stop talking about you.

They understand it. This is his first mission, his first human. Of course, he will be fascinated. Even angels can be so amused in all of their first times.

They shrug it off and just deals with his nonstop talks about you.

Now, nobody really can blame him. You are a wonderful person, such a great girl. Beautiful, kind, smart and all other good things. People can easily label you as someone that they can look up to. Full of dreams and inspiration. You are the type of girl who will spend your free time in volunteering. Feed stray kittens, help a granny crossing the street, all good stuff.

If Jaeyun discovers good things in this world, he also learned about how people become sinners overtime. How cruel other people can be, being selfish and crimes left and right. He understands why angels are busy these days.

It doesn’t bother him too much, all he focus about was you. He cares about you too much.

The very first time he experienced total excitement for you was his first christmas. You squeal as your parents hands you a box. Jaeyun stood close to you, having his heart leaping around in anticipation.

“They got us a...” his words stall as he stretch his neck to peak through the box. You tear its wrap and even before fully removing it, you screamed and ran towards your parents.

“...what is that, princess?” he whispers and trudge towards you to check the box.

“Thank you for getting me my dream phone!” you exclaimed that send Jaeyun in cofusion.

“A phone?” he pouts and saw you unboxing the said gadget. He snorts and sat beside you, watching you enjoy your gift.

“Why did Mom and Dad got us phone?” he mumbles and rest his head at the back of his palm. “What happen on gifting us books to read?” he added, trying to recall how you’re so happy on your birthday.

Regardless, he smiles seeing how happy you looked for it. He sighs and clicked his tongue.

“As long as you’re happy.” he mumbles.

But its not always happy time. There are days that you feel sad. These are what Jaeyun hates the most. Seeing your pretty eyes water in tears, nose turning slightly red because of crying.

“Baby,” he whispers and squat beside you, wings hanging low.

Your cries breaks his heart. “Stop crying, please.” he tries to console you even if there’s no way you can hear him.

It doesn’t matter, he still continues. Your dog just died and it made you so sad that you’re crying so much. Jaeyun couldn’t take it and his chest tightens at the sight. He wanted to do something, make you feel better but there’s just not much he can do. The extent of his powers have limits and this is the first time he wished he had more. That he can do more.

Contentment is one good characteristics one angel have, but Jaeyun’s thoughts aren’t mirroring it at one bit.

Time flew by too fast for Jaeyun. He didn’t even realized that its been years ever since he started to be your guardian angel. He doesn’t think his work as heavy, in fact Jaeyun loves his work. He doesn’t get tired over his routine. For him everyday with you is unique and special, he cherish all of them.

“I am happy to present this award to an honorable student,” the principal of your school smiles widely on stage.

“Y/n.” she continues and the crowd cheers after your name was mentioned.

You chuckled, standing up to go and get your award. Friends, admirers and other more cheers, supporting you. But out of all, your biggest supporter was stood by the stage, smile so wide, his golden blonde hair sure looks good on him, his lips caught up over his teeth as he clap his hands passionately. Even if he’s invisible to the naked human’s eyes, that didn’t stop Jaeyun from cheering.

His wings spreads so wide and he moves it just enough to blew some wind towards you, adding to your charisma while walking towards the stage. To say that Jaeyun is proud was an understatement, he was beyond that. For him, you are the best. You are the only one.

The young angel was so ignorant of the menacing feelings unfolding at a leisurely pace. He was unaware of the lingering emotions he’s slowly growing inside of him, bigger than his wings, deeper than his thoughts and stronger than his love to serve the almighty.

It started to awoke this feelings when you turned seventeen. Start of a new schoolyear, you are so excited for this because you finally moved in to a bigger campus.

Jaeyun whistles, both hands inside his pocket while he leans over the wall right outside the girl’s bathroom. He’s waiting patiently for you because you went inside to go your business.

“You’re y/n, right?” Jaeyun lifts his head and saw three girls approaching you.

He pushed himself off from the wall to walk closer, “Yes.” he heard you answer.

Jaeyun looked curious as he stand close behind you, listening along to what these girls wants from you. His wings automatically wrapped around you, trapping both of you inside it.

“I’m Jeena.” she smiles, but Jaeyun didn’t retrieve.

“We want to be friends with you.” the one on her left added after she introduced herself too.

You smiled and nodded at them. Jaeyun’s lips pursed into a pout and lean forward to check your expression. He glanced back at the three girls and vaguely squint his eyes like he’s watching them closely.

The next day, you looked excited while waiting by the school gate. Jaeyun beside you smiles, watching you happily. One girl notices you and asked you why you haven’t entered the school yet.

“I’m waiting for Jeena.” you answered.

Jaeyun’s brows furrowed and he snap his head over your way. “Jeena? From yesterday?” he asks and walks closer, his face inches away from you.

“Are they our new friends, princess?” Jaeyun asks again, watching your eyes.

“Y/n!” your head turns to your side and you waved happily.

When you approach Jeena, you walk through Jaeyun and he craned his neck to follow you with his head. He can’t explain how to feel when he saw how big your smiles and your giggles sounded so good to his ears. Even if he’s a little cautious about this, he couldn’t help but to smile too. He started walking, following behind you like a loyal dog.

Jaeyun didn’t know things will escalate pretty quickly after that. From having new friends, admirers started appearing as well causing his distress. The emotions that are blooming inside his chest are so foreign for him, so new that he don’t know how to react from it.

Even before he can stop himself, Jaeyun already stick his foot and tripped the young boy. He fell face first in front of the other students on the hallway. You gasped, surprised at what just happened. Giggles, teasings and worried remarks errupted around. Jaeyun stood at his ground, face placid as he stare at the guy trying to get back from his feet.

Jaeyun was called to report right away. Of course the minister of upper angels cannot let what he just did to slide. He just flout their rules and it needs to be addressed.

He bows, avoiding to look at him straight to the eyes. He is guilty, but what fascinates him is that he didn’t regret doing it.

“I’m pretty sure you know why we ask you here, right?”

He lifts his head and nods. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know what got into me. It just happened.”

The upper angel didn’t respond right away. He pursed his lips. “Jealousy.”

Jaeyun was left speechless. He doesn’t know what to say or if he needs to say anything. This emotions is not new for him. He heard it before, but he knew angels shouldn't be feeling this.

“Maybe you’re starting to get too attached to your human. It is somehow given as you two basically spend everyday together.” his eyes reflects how confused and worried Jaeyun is.

“But you need to remember that you have to let her go. You are there only to guide them and not meddle with their life.” the upper angel added that left Jaeyun with no choice but to nod his head.

The younger angel was feeling a lot of emotions, chest tightening trying to hold on all of them. He felt sad, ashamed, regretful and some he cannot utterly distinguish. Jaeyun kept his head low in agony. He never felt this way before, its so hefty.

“You must’ve find it hard to deal with it. This is the first time you encounter this emotion anyway. Jealousy is a strong one too.” he claps his hand over his shoulder to send some solace to him.

“But you know what’s stronger?”

Jaeyun lifts his head, he raised both of his brows in anticipation of what’s the older is about to say. His hand kept his hand to his shoulder so he won’t move away.

“Love.” he smiles softly.

The younger was at dazed, trying to process what he just said.

“Don’t be too affected about this small mistakes. Take it as a step to make yourself better.”

Jaeyun stares right through his eyes and nodded his head. Before long he was given a warning for the disagreeable behavior he showed. He didn't complained and accepted it wholeheartedly with awareness of his own actions.

Eventually, he was back to you. Somehow, his sadness subsided at the sight of your peaceful face while sleeping. He smiles and carefully approaches closer. He sighs and stretched his arm to gently caress your face using his hand.

“I’m sorry, princess.” he whispers and turned off your lamp then pulled the blanket to cover you properly.

Jaeyun tries not to do the same mistakes. He smiles whenever you’re happy, pout whenever you’re sad and still help you with small things. He make sure that all he’s doing is not disobeying any of their rules. To prevent himself from getting into more trouble and to serve his main purpose here.

“I like you, Nicholas.”

One afternoon, at the back building, while everyone else aren’t around, you quietly asked him to meet you right here then nervously confessed to the boy right in front of you.

You are unsure if this is the right thing to do or if he will respond the way you wanted him to, but that’s the least you care. It is normal for teens to experience these emotions. They said it’s even a wonderful phase of life where young love may bloom.

Jaeyun’s gaze turns away from where you are. He once again got occupied by this unpleasant emotion he once experience not too long ago. He still didn’t know how to react, but he is certain he ought to stand right there and do nothing.

The boy’s face remains placid as he stares at you without saying anything. Nicholas is pretty much one of the popular boys not only in your class, but also around the whole campus. He’s part of the soccer team, smart, from a good family, well reserved man and he’s very good looking.

You aren’t so bad yourself. A lot of guys admires you too. It isn’t easy to please that’s why not all are privileged enough to gain some of your attention.

Nicholas does, tho. There’s just something about his quiet demeanor that makes your stomach wrench. Some of your friends says it happens when you like someone. This is the first time you’ve encountered it and he does make you blush whenever you two made eyecontact.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

Jaeyun sighs, releasing some of the tension over him. He leans at the wall a little bit far from where the two of you, making sure he’s giving enough distance.

“I have nothing to say.” short and cold. You are surprised to his response. A slight sting bloom over your chest.

Unable to say anything while you contemplate whether you are hurt or humiliated, Jaeyun took steps towards you and protectively cover you with his wings like usual. His dagger like eyes stared right to Nicholas while he stand behind you.

For some reason, you felt warm a some part were lifted, making you feel more at ease. You nodded your head after letting out a sigh.

“A-All right. Sorry for wasting your time.” and you didn’t wait anymore. You turned your heels and left him standing alone.

Embarrassed about it, you silently pray that Nicholas won’t say a word about it to any of your friends. The two of you are at the same circle, mainly why you grew a crush on him. Your group spend a lot of time together these days.

Jaeyun was furious at how obnoxious Nicholas was at you, but he felt relieved that you’re not having boyfriends yet. You on the other hand, felt even more motivated to pursue Nicholas. You aren’t used of losing.

“It’s okay, princess.” he saw you stood right by the corridor, spacing out. He smiles a little and even pat your head.

“You will find someone worthy.”

Jealousy isn’t the only one that Jaeyun will discover. He was stoned at his position one night, heart thumping so loud, cheeks burning and beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He doesn’t know where exactly to look, his head panning left and right totally unease. He gulped feeling slightly shorten of breath.

Your moans once again errupts around your silent room. It sounded too lewd for Jaeyun to ignore so easily. Seems like not only him discovers things as you are now learned to pleasure yourself alone.

Another soft whimpers echoes through his ears and mind that agitates something bad for him. He gulpes and forcefully turns around in attempt to leave you for tonight. He may have gone away, but the sound and memories of you that night was vividly kept inside Jaeyun’s mind, causing something corrupt to linger in him.

“Come on! I’m sure you know more about the forbidden passage.” Jaeyun’s restless. He’s now with some of the angels, lined up for their daily report.

The other one sighed, finding it amusing how he’s extra curious about that. Jaeyun’s always hyper, but he’s never someone to be like this.

“Fine.” he surrenders and Jaeyun cheers as they both hurry to report then met to spend some free time together.

“Why are you so curious about it anyway?”

Jaeyun tries not to act suspicious about it and just shrugges his shoulder off. “I’m just curious about it.”

“They said the forbidden passage was opened by the first fallen angel. He was known in the kingdom even before the incident because of his heavenly face. His wings were also big and very beautiful, it said it was one of a kind none surpassed it until now. He was an epitome of beauty.” he starts and unknowingly eyes Jaeyun’s big pretty wings behind him.

“He gravely fell in love with a human and exchanged his wings for mortality. Afterwards gave his soul as well to have all the good things that world can offer.”

Jaeyun’s lip gaped at what he’s hearing. Almost everything has tainted the angel’s rules and principles.

“But that’s not all.” he says and pursed his lips, hesitating to tell him what happens next.

“What?”

“They said that despite everything he sacrificed, the girl didn’t returned his feelings. It put him in so much agony and despair, he couldn’t accept it. So the fallen angel exchanged his heart for three unbounded wishes.”

Jaeyun’s breathing slows down at what he heard. He never knew angels can do that.

“Greed took upon him so with no hesitation, he offers his heart, ask for his first wish. And that is to live one last time on earth. You know that once heart was offered for something that doesn’t go along with the will of the almighty, you cannot come back here nor reincarnate. You are to live at the underworld to suffer forever.” the words sent chills over Jaeyun’s body.

The underworld are a place of the unfortunate and sinful. It said to be filled with anger, greed, lust, pain and all that cause suffering.

“What’s his second wish?”

“That the love of his life falls in love with him in the last time he will be alive.” his tone sounded like he felt sympathy for the fallen angel.

“And the third?” Jaeyun couldn’t help, but to ask more.

“It was unknown. Only he knows about it.”

Jaeyun was lost with his own thoughts. All these informations that coming to him are too much to process anything in mind.

“Are you all right, Jaeyun?” he sounded worried for him.

He was quick to pull a smile for him, hiding that something’s bothering him. Hiding that some dark ideas are slowly forming at the back of his mind.

“Yes, of course!”

He nodded, “Anyway, don’t think about the forbidden passage too much. It doesn’t just open to every angel.”

“What do you mean?” the crease over Jaeyun’s forehead deepens.

“Only one that has deep desire can only open the gates.”

He was left stoned at his position. Even after the angel bid goodbye, Jaeyun’s spacing out. He’s thinking about the fallen angel, what happened to him, the sacrifices he did. All of that went to nothing. Is it all worth it? His wings, soul and heart for a one lifetime with the love of his life?

Even if Jaeyun silently admits to himself that the idea of exchanging his wings to live on earth occured to him, he wasn’t that sure if he’s determined to do it. Afterall, it will cost him everything.

But he didn’t know that the answer he was waiting for will come running his way instantly.

It was a dreadful day for you. It was raining heavily, people around you are all wearing black and silently mourning along with you. Your mother died and you couldn’t be more broken.

It happened too fast that you can’t believe any of it. Multiple times you prayed that all of this was just a dream. How can your life turn upside down in a short span of time? This is truly unbelievable.

“M-Mom,” you cried once alone inside your bed. Your slumped on ground at the middle of your room.

“Mom!” you screamed in so much agony.

“Please don’t leave me.” you whispered as tears flows nonstop in sorrow. “I’m all alone now.” you added.

Jaeyun stood a few feet away from you, eyes filled with tears. He’s so hurt seeing you like this. How can the world be so unfair and cruel to someone so pure? It made him question a lot of things. While watching you cry to your limit, broke everything in him. He wanted to do more. He want to hug you, comfort you and tell you that you aren’t alone because he’s there. He will always be there for you.

Jaeyun trudges closer to you. He bent down, feeling every bits of him breaking apart before caging the two of you inside his wings as he cries and stays beside you. He shut his eyes close, fist balled, heart thumped faster. He then realized that he’s useless, he couldn’t even protect you like how he wanted to. Something deep, powerful emotion grew inside of him.

“I’ll be here for you, baby. Always.”

Jaeyun knew he needed to do something. He realized that he couldn’t protect you like this. That guiding you was not enough for him. He needed more. He wanted more.

After crying yourself to sleep, Jaeyun lifts you up and places you over the bed. His desire to be with you somehow dissipates the rules to not physically touch you. It was not allowed, but he could not care more.

He placed a chaste kiss on top of your head. “I’ll be back, princess.” he pulls away and smiles softly. “This time, I will protect you properly.” and he flew back with nothing but the desire of being with you.

Just a step closer to the gate and it opens right away. Jaeyun gulped and halted for a while, not because he's hesitating but because he needs to collect his thoughts. He promised himself that he won’t let greed take over the best of him. He won’t be like the first fallen angel.

He steps inside and the gate closes right away. Inside was a dreamy place, the perfect place to lure angels in. The staircase looked more enticing and at the end of it was a shrine.

“Welcome,” his head snaps over to the side when he heard somebody talked.

There, beside the stairs is a man wearing an all black suit. His hands inside the pockets. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look like how the humans expect fallen angels to look like. He looked ethereal, but there’s a different aura that he’s giving off.

“I’ve already seen you before, Jaeyun.” he says with a smile.

He didn't say anything and just stare at the man. He chuckled like as if Jaeyun did something funny.

“I’m Samael, btw. The gatekeeper for the forbidden passage.” he smirks.

“I want to exchange my wings and live on earth.” he says straight to the point.

The man’s mouth gaped and his eyes sparkles in amusement.

“Oh, someone arrogant. Its been a while since the last one like you.” he steps closer to Jaeyun. “He looked so heavenly too and his wings,” his hands extends near his wings and continues, “they’re pretty too just like yours.

He kept silent and just wait to what the man will say next.

“Let me guess?” he put his hand over his chin and acts as if he’s thinking about something.

“A girl?”

Jaeyun gulped and glanced away. It made the man bark a fit of laughter. Enjoying that he got it right. It isn’t the first time one angel came rushing in for love. Its actually the most common reason why they go here.

“Oh well,” he nods his head. “I won’t delay you anymore.”

He walks back in front of Jaeyun and extends his hand, soon a big knife appears over his hand.

“Are you sure about this? Once done, you cannot take it back.”

Your face flashes through his mind. “I’m sure.”

The man chuckles, amused. He nodded and plays with his knife. “Let me cut your wings.”

He steps closer and Jaeyun shut his eyes as the man cut off his wings. It was very painful, but he didn’t showed any regret. The feeling without his wings are very odd for him. A part of him shatters at the thought of not having them anymore, but the desire to be with you are stronger.

He threw Jaeyun’s wings beneath his feet and smiles evily. “You have to drag these wings up to the top.”

Jaeyun nods and started to climb up the stairs of suffering. It wasn’t easy. Each step he took, he feels like his wings gets more heavier. He was almost out of breath once he arrived by the shrine.

“Easy, right?!” he jolted when the man appeared right in front of him.

“I want to exchange my soul.”

He laughs, “You are really interesting aren’t you?” he crossed his arms. “You do know that your soul serves as your ticket back here.”

Jaeyun nodded. “I want to exchange it.”

“If you say so.” the man moves his hand and something came out from Jaeyun. He trapped it inside his palm with a big grin on his face like as if he just won something.

“Heart?”

Jaeyun shakes his head. It didn’t wipe out the smirk on the man’s face. He nodded again and tilt his head over to the entrance.

When he stood right in front of it, the man was a few feet away from him, watching.

“You remind me so much of him.” he suddenly said.

“Who?” Jaeyun asks, looking over to his shoulder.

“The first fallen angel.”

“I will try my best not to end up his way. I’m nothing like him.” Jaeyun argues.

The man smirks and tilt his head, “Are you now?”

Even before he can respond, something pulls him towards the entrance and he soon fell in a deep slumber. Jaeyun lost his wings and soul, but gained the ability to be with you.

The death of your mother caused a drastic change in you. Yes, you’re slowly coping up but the lost was just too much that you feel like you can never be the same again.

It’s not like you are really alone. You still have your dad. But he’s always too busy with work, unable to really give you the attention you need. The person who was there for you all the time was your Mom, and now that she’s gone, you are beyond heart broken.

Her sweet memories are what kept you going. The dreams you two built together is what pushing you to continue your life despite of a grave lost. You knew your mom will not be too happy to see you crying every night for her. So you try your best to live your life.

It was the second week of your new school year and its a normal day. You are about to rest your head to your table when Jeena came rushing inside your classroom. Her smile so big as she tries to hold her screams.

“What happened to you?”

She stops, catching her breath. “We have a transferee!” she cheers and even fan herself, acting so delirious.

You scoffed and roll your eyes before glancing away. As doing so, your gaze met Nicholas' eyes. He didn’t look away and you aren’t bothered to look away as well. If it wasn’t for your homeroom teacher arriving, the stares will remain.

“Okay, class. Kindly go to your respective seats.” all your head snaps in front and follows what your teacher said.

Jeena still seemed thrilled about it as she couldn’t stay still at her chair. She tugs your arm to pull and whisper something.

“I saw the new guy!” she giggled. “He’s so handsome!” it was impossible to hide the excitement through her tone.

You smirked at her, “Yeah?” no interest can be sensed from you. She pouts and rolls her eyes.

“Promise! I think I just fell in love.” her eyes almost form into these heart shapes that you find somehow hilarious.

Its not like this is the first time Jeena has a crush on someone. She's actually the type to like every good looking guy on your batch. Its also not the serious type, sometimes its just happy crush where she giggles while coming across the hallway.

You didn’t give much thought to it and didn’t realize that your teacher just asked the new comer inside. The class ware fascinated. You heard some of the girls gasps in utter shock, some were left totally speechless. The boys have more chill reactions compared to the girls, but you can see some amusement from them as well.

With full on curiosity, you glanced in front and your lips instantly gapped. Your heart thumped faster and everything seems to be in a slow motion. You can’t explain what you are feeling at the moment. He was dead gorgeous. Black hair that’s a bit longer than the usual hair of guys on your class, puppy-like eyes, pointed nose and plump sinful lips. The words aren’t even capable of describing him in total detail. He was like an angel sent from heaven.

His eyes scanned the whole room carefully and when it met yours, he stopped. Your breath hitched and your lungs feels like its being pressed out of air. His eyes looks so dreamy.

“He’s looking at me! Oh my gosh, y/n.” your head snaps to the side when Jeena spoke.

Suddenly, your blushing cheeks are not because of the guy’s pretty eyes but because you feel embarrassed for actually thinking he was looking at you. Yes, you may be pretty popular to your school but Jeena’s always ahead of you. So if there’s someone he’s eyeing, you bet its her.

You tried to shove off all these thoughts and just proceed on listening to your teacher’s short introduction for the transferee.

The thumping of your heart resumed the moment you met eyes, well you assumed, with the new guy. He’s still looking at your way when you glanced back. You cleared your throat and pursed your lips.

“I’m Jake Sim.” his short introduction made everyone more interested of him.

It’s a little odd for you, tho. His visuals are breathtaking and gives off sweet boy vibes, but his aura and the way he acts says otherwise. You couldn’t really tell how he really is. He’s hard to read.

“Now, his family just moved from Australia so please make sure to make Jake comfortable. Okay?” your teacher reminds and the whole class answered ‘yes’ in unison.

She asked him to sat a few seats away from you then she continues with her lecture. The girl classmates near him started to steal glances at him and even tries to crack a conversation. That made Jeena groan and roll her eyes in envious. Your eyes glanced away from the scene, focusing to the board in front trying to seal whatever that emotion is growing inside your chest.

You have no idea when did it start or how did it happen, but all of a sudden Jake Sim has been the talk of the whole campus. From being the random transferee from Australia to one of the campus crushes. He also started hanging out with your group of friends since most of your boy friends found him cool.

Jeena also seemed to like Jake very much. She’s always around him, vividly show signs that she’s interested and you’re actually surprised by her behavior. She’s never the type to be like this. This is the first time you saw her acting this way.

On the other hand, while everyone finds it easy and normal to interact with him, you don’t. There’s just something with him that makes your every nerves wreck. You cannot even keep your stares at him for a long time. You feel like your heart will burst out from your chest. He just makes you so nervous.

“I’m telling you dude, you’ll totally have fun!” you can hear Jay while you’re walking towards their table.

“Y/n is here!” Jeena shouts that made everyone to your table snap their heads to your direction.

You smiled and it faltered when you saw the one beside her. Jake Sim have his infamous smirk while staring at you, gaze aren’t leaving you even just for a second.

“Hey, Y/n. Practice done?” Heeseung asks and even pushed a chair so you can sit beside him. You smiled brightly and nod your head.

Nicholas is sitting on the other chair beside you and you can feel him staring at you. These days, you’ve noticed how he’s being more attentive of you. It suppose to make you excited about it as he is your crush for a year now, but suddenly he doesn’t seem that interesting anymore.

“You’re late.” he says and even slides a water towards you.

“They hold us for a bit because of club meeting.” you thanked him and get the glass to drink from it.

“OMG! Are you two finally dating?!”

Your eyes snapped towards Jeena when she suddenly screamed. Everyone then started teasing you and Nicholas that made you chuckle a little. Your eyes unconsciously darted over at the quiet boy beside her and your smile faltered.

Jake Sim’s eyes are blank and he looked annoyed for some reason. You have no idea as to why the said boy’s face reflects irritation, but you just chose to ignore it.

“Stop being nosy, Jeena.” Nicholas stated, but there’s a smile over his lips.

“Whatever!” she says and rolled her eyes before going back on talking to Jake.

Your eyes glanced away from the scene and thankfully Heeseung opens up a topic about one subject. The routine remains the same for you. School and friends are the ones that keeping you busy, keeping your mind off from your late mother.

As days passes by, you’ve noticed how Nicholas are starting to open up with you as well. Even if you’re a little confused why he’s suddenly giving you attention, you didn’t give much thought to it and just go with the flow.

But your mind are always occupied by Jake Sim. There’s just something that kept pulling you towards him. You both rarely interacts and most of it was done by him.

“One water and one banana milk, please.” he says one breaktime. Your head lifts when a hand’s giving you a drink out of nowhere.

With confused eyes you look at the person and it was him. “H-Huh?”

He smirks, eyes softening at your cute reaction. “Here,” he places the drink carefully to your hand. “That’s the last one. I know its your favorite.” he says and casually walked away.

You are stoned at your position after the interaction. A lot of questions formed inside your mind. Why did Jake Sim suddenly talked to you? Why did he gave you a drink acting so casual about it? And most of all, how did he know your favorite drink?

These interactions didn’t last there. You don’t know if he’s doing all of it because he wants to be friends with you or he have something else in mind. Not to be too assuming or full of yourself, but you rarely, if not never, seen him being too interactive to others. Usually he just nods, smirks and chuckles lightly with them. Never giving free drinks, carrying lunch trays, helping with school chores and other more.

“It’s still hot,” he stops you from sipping your soup. You blinked, a bit confused.

His eyes stares at you with the usual soft looks on them before he pull your bowl closer to him to cool your soup down. Blush came rushing through your cheeks while some of your friends were left in utter shock. They’ve been noticing this for a couple of weeks already. Nobody just dares to question it.

Jeena started to act cold around you as well. You’ve tried to ask her about it, but she just ignores you. It’s making you so sad. She’s been your friends for years already so you don’t like having misunderstandings with her.

You figured that maybe she’s avoiding you because of Jake, so you started to distance yourself from him. But Jake fucking Sim didn’t understand the assignment, because he makes sure damn well that he is doing things for you. That his presence around you is very well known.

“Let me pay for that.” yet again Jake Sim is here.

You’re at the cafeteria buying a drink for Jeena to try and fix things between the two of you and now the main reason (your guess) of Jeena’s cold treatment towards you is here.

Jake’s hand is stretched towards the lady by the counter and she was about to accept it but you beat her into it. You placed your cash on her palm and shoot glares to the boy next to you. He glanced at you with a furrow on his brows.

“What are you doing?” your tone sounds so accusing.

His eyebrow slightly raised, “Paying for you.”

“But you don’t have to do that!”

“I want to.”

You rolled your eyes and accepted the change from the lady before turning your heels, attempting go get away from him. Jake’s fast reflexes refused to let you leave as he hold you by your arm.

“What?”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

His stares made your stomach wrench and blush flushing your cheeks so you quickly glanced away.

“None of your business.” and you shove his hold off then run away.

Jake smirks, enjoying his effect on you. For him, he can settle with this kind of interaction for the mean time. He’s not rushing anything. What’s important is that he’s here for you everytime.

After taking off, you searched for Jeena to give her the drink you just bought. It wasn’t that hard to look for her since there’s just few places she likes to spend her free times. You smiled at the sight of her and quickly walked closer.

“Hey Jeena,” you started. She glanced at your way and the displease on her reaction made your heart crack a little. Her eyes stares at you blankly as she draws a sigh.

“What do you want?” she sound so uninterested.

“I just want to say sorry.” your lips pursed. “I don’t know what did I do wrong for you to—”

Jeena stood up and she looked extremely pissed. “You don’t know?” her sarcasm lingers over her tone.

She scoffed unamused, “I can’t believe that you’re this kind of person, Y/n.”

“W-What...”

“You know that I like him!” she took a step closer that made you step backward, starting to feel scared of her.

“You know very well I like Jake Sim and yet you seduced him!” her accusations sounded so unbelievable for you. You almost thought that she’s not serious about it, but nerves almost shows on her neck that indicates how mad she is.

“No, I didn’t.” you defended yourself.

“Liar!” she pushed you over your shoulder and you lost your balance.

“I trusted you! I thought you’re my friend!” she says with a tone of disappointment before she kicked the drink that lays a few feet away from you.

She marched away and you’re left in complete trance. The shock from what just happened just disabled you from moving. After finally snapping back to reality, you stood up and went to search again for Jeena.

As much as you feel hurt from what she accused you, you can’t just let her get mad with you. Jeena is your closest friend. She was somehow there for you from time to time. Losing somebody is the least you want to happen again to your life.

You’re about to walk over the corner when you heard a familiar voice talking.

“So that was it?” it was Nicholas.

Your steps halted and your brows furrowed, curious to who is he talking to. But these thoughts were blocked when you heard Jeena’s voice.

“What do you want, Nicholas?”

“You really like that jerk?” a hint of annoyance, disbelief and pain lurks over his tone.

Still confused about what’s goin on, you decided to listen for a bit more.

“And what if I do?”

“Is that why you broke up with me? Because of that asshole?”

Your lips gapped at what he said. This is not what you’re expecting to happen. Nicholas and Jeena? But she knew you like him. Even if you aren’t that passionate about it, you knew she knows you like him.

Jeena groaned, “Why is it such a big deal to you? You’re going for y/n anyway!” she screams and bitterness looms on her tone when she said your name.

Your heart ache after realizing what’s it about. Jeena and Nicholas was in a relationship secretly while you like him. The times when she’s teasing you with him flashes through your mind. While she’s doing that, she was in a relationship with him? You are lost of words.

“I’m only doing that to make you jealous!” Nicholas' voice raised. That was the first time you heard him raise his tone. He’s always the calm type.

Something pricked your heart after what he just said. You may not like Nicholas that way anymore, but to hear such betrayal sure hurt you a lot.

Even before you realize it, someone walks pass by you to go confront them. With wide eyes you followed Jake to try and stop him. It was too late because he already punched Nicholas.

“Jake!” you screamed.

“You fucking fuck!” he looked so mad. His intimidating aura shifts into something more scary.

Jeena looked surprised as well. Nicholas is down at the ground, unable to even fight back. You screams and approached closer to stop Jake before he broke Nicholas' nose. You saw that he throw punches over Jake as well, but he’s stronger than him.

“Jake! That’s enough!” Jeena screamed.

“Get off of me!” Nicholas.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Your eyes watered because of what’s happening at the moment. You can’t seem to think of anything else but to blame yourself for all of these. Jake even got involved because of you. A part of you felt bad for him.

“J-Jake...” you softly called him.

You aren’t sure if he even heard you, but he stopped so you assumed he did. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder. Your tear stained eyes broke him.

“P-Please, enough.” you added, unable to really talk loudly anymore. Everything is just too much.

He clenched his jaw and like an obedient puppy called by his owner, he stood up and walked towards you. He cupped your face and eyes softens as he scanned you carefully. Your heart aches again at the sight of his bruised face.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks.

Your soft cries hurts Jake.

“I w-want to leave.” the main intention of why you say those words are unknown, but one thing’s for sure, Jake’s willing to do anything for you.

The following events are blur and the next thing you knew, you are inside the infirmary. Jake’s sitting in front of you, eyes completely fixed at your direction. He’s not saying anything at all so its starting to feel awkward.

Both of you snapped out of trance when the nurse walked closer holding a kit. “Let me put medicine to your bruises, Jake.” she says in her soft voice, matching it with her sweet smile.

Jake’s eyes lazily trailed towards her and the placid look on his face intimidates the nurse making her smile falter.

“Y/n can do that.” he shortly stated and glanced back at you. The sudden eye contact made you jolt and panic a bit, your head turns to the nurse. She’s looking at you with a confused and slight fear on her eyes.

A small smile is what you gave her before you gently reached for the kit then bowed to thank her. She was left with no choice but to leave the two of you alone. Jake seemed pleased after that as his face softens and relaxes while watching you prepare the ointments for his bruise.

The corner of his lips lifts a little as he leaned back using his palms to support himself.

“You s-shouldn’t have done that.” you stuttered and hated it. Eitherway, you tried to keep your cool then focused on the task you need to do. The burning gazes the young man throwing at you are making it hard, but you tried hard to ignore it.

“I want to.” he answered quickly that made your hand stop from rummaging over the kit.

You sighed, calming the rushing beating of your heart. At this rate, you knew being around him is not healthy for you. You feel like this rate of heartbeat can kill you.

When you finally found the courage to face him, your eyes laid only a few seconds on Jake’s affectionate ones. His eyes were already darted at you, like as if anticipating even the shortest contact. His smiles grew bigger after and bit his lower lip, finding you so adorable.

He chuckles that made you narrow your brows and glance at him again.

“What’s so funny?” you fired him that question, a little irritated. The cotton bud that you are holding are near his lips when you lift your gaze to see him with drunken eyes. Half-lidded and with a dangerous grin playing over his luscious lips.

“Its because you’re so far from me. Move closer. I have a lot of room for you.” his husky voice just makes you feel more nervous. He widen his legs, providing enough space between it. Trying to act cool, you sighed and stood in front of Jake. A pleased smile spread across the handsome face of the young man.

“There we go,” he sighs like this is a very fun thing for him. He’s enjoying it. “That isn’t so bad, right?” he whispers that you ignored.

You blinked and tried to calm your heartbeats. It was crazy at this point. Your body feels hot, your heart is racing and your hands are shaking. Jake’s eyes moved from your eyes down to your trembling hands. He felt a sting over his lips when you try to put the ointment, but it didn’t stop him from smirking.

“You’re shaking.” he stated. He lifts his hand and held your hand firmly. The warmth from it transfers to yours, but just made your heart thumped even faster.

“Baby,” he chuckles and caress your hand using his thumb. “relax.” he added.

At the end, you gave up trying to conceal whatever that is that you’re feeling. You groaned and then sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry. Its just you’re m-making me nervous.” you admits and stared at his eyes.

The pleased expression of him didn’t slipped off from you and his eyes brightens.

“Why?” he asked curiously.

Your face flushed and you rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever! Just quit playing around, I’m trying to deal with your bruises.” you let out frustratingly.

You were never comfortable around Jake Sim. It’s very odd even for you because you’ve never been like this to anyone. You’re usually good at making friends and around guys, but with him its just different.

Whenever he’s around, you feel like you’re heart will burst out from your ribcage, your fingers are restless, you can’t even stand eye contact and you can’t take physical touch with him. You’ll feel like you’ll pass out. You’ve liked Nicholas and your friends had introduced you to these feelings, but what you feel with Jake is just way stronger.

“Why are you always mad at me?” his tone does not sound mad or anything. He sounded curious.

“I’m n-not mad at you.” you tried assuring him.

He tilts his head, “Are you sure?”

You glanced at him and nod your head right after. He nods his head, satisfied.

“Then why avoid me?”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.” he smirks.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not used to being around you.”

He nods his head and smiled downwards. Your eyes stared, fascinated about his looks. He then smiled brightly.

“By any chance, do you like dogs?” he ask you so randomly which you end up answering with a nod.

“Don’t you think you’re cheating?” Jake didn’t even falter from watching you when Samael, one of the gate keepers of the forbidden passage suddenly appears.

He rolled his eyes, already used to the presence of the said gate keeper. Normal humans unable to see him, but since Jake’s case is different, he’s stuck with him. He’s been showing up from time to time to either give him small hints for things or just tease him around. He kept asking him why he’s showing up but never once he received a definite answer. He just gave up and accepted his random visits.

“You lured her using your dog because you knew very well she used to have one that looked exactly like the dog you just adopted.” Samael stated and even leaned over the railing to watch you play around Layla, Jake’s dog.

“Can’t you see that she’s happy?”

Samael pursed his lips then nods his head in agreement. “Well, good job I guess?” his tone taunting.

Jake chuckles and kept his eyes at you. He invited you in his house and introduced you with his pet, Layla. You’ve fallen in love ever since.

“Jake!” you shouts his name and he waved his hand once.

“Come here!” he nods and jogs towards your direction before Samael disappears into thin air.

For other people, Jake seems to be a cold, mysterious and reserved type of guy. But with you, he’s completely different. He’s very generous with the things he want to share you, he smiles a lot, very gentle, attentive and affectionate.

After getting close with Jake, you started to feel more ease around him. It actually got better. The butterflies in your stomach are still there, but they’re manageable.

Things between Jeena fell apart. Even if you wanted to fix things between the two of you, she already felt distant. Nicholas tried to talked to you, but Jake’s not letting him get that chance. You told him off as well because you don’t want Jake to be pissed that can lead to another brawl.

“How come you just moved here?” you ask one afternoon while you and Jake hangs out to his house.

You’re at their garden, laying on your stomach and him on his back while Layla runs around chasing some butterfly. Jake puts his hand right in front your mouth, offering a grape. He’s smiling so widely.

“I don’t know. Why? You wished you met me sooner?” he asks teasing you.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed at what he said. A part of you aches and rejoys at that very moment. You knew the lost of your Mom scarred you for life and finding Jake somehow heals you. But no matter how much you hate to admit it, you still feel something’s missing. Your heart stil aches.

You snapped back to reality when Jake’s hand graze gently over your hair, hanging some loose strands to your ear.

“I wished I knew you sooner too.” his words sounded so sincere. His eyes silently communicating to you.

“Thank you for being there when nobody was, Jake.” you told him.

For you, that might mean thanking him for the past months you’ve been spending your time with him. But for Jake, it was the whole duration that he knew you. From when he was an angel, until he’s a human. It tugs something in his heart. He knew he loves you and that he’s down bad for you, but this time he’s sure that there’s no turning back. There’s no more rising from his feelings for you.

“Jaeyun,” he says that made you furrow your brows a bit, confused.

That was the first time he ever said his angel name ever since he stepped foot here on earth.

“Call me Jaeyun, baby.” he added that made your eyes looked so soft, heart thumping along with the beats of his.

“Jaeyun...” you mumbled so gently that almost made him crazy.

A tear formed your eyes before Jake pulls you close to his body, caging you into a tight embrace.

That just made your relationship with Jake even more better. After that you two are inseparable. It’s like there’s already an unwritten message that you two felt the same way and nobody can come between you.

“You should go home now.” you said while still holding Jake’s hand. He walked you home after spending the whole day together.

He smiles, “Go inside first, baby. I’ll go once you’re in.”

You pout that made him chuckle. He pulled you close and kisses you over your temple.

“Go.” he says again.

You are left with no choice but to nod your head and leaned in to give him a swift kiss at his lips. That stunned Jake completely. You flushed when you felt him stiffened. Embarrassed of what you just did, you are about to run home when he grabbed you by your wrist.

“Not so fast,” he says in a low tone. “Baby you can’t just leave after what you pulled.”

He embraced you, nuzzling your neck. Your heart’s beating so loudly that you are sure he heard it. He smiles and slowly pulls away then cups your face. You returned his smile with a flushed cheeks. He leaned making your noses touch and caress it gently before he tilts his head to give you a sweet slow kiss.

Beneath the bright moon, your heart beat got in sync together as a signal of a love blooming between one another. One love that only comes once in a million.

“I love you, Y/n.” he says.

“I love you, Jaeyun.” and you nuzzle over his chest.

The smile over Jake’s lips almost brighten the night. On his way home, he couldn’t stop giggling to himself.

“Your lips will tear off any minute now.”

He jumps in surprise. “Why do you keep showing this way, Samael?” he asked a little mad.

Samael smirked, showing off his dimple. “I’m bored.” he shrugs his shoulder off.

“Don’t you have a passage to guard?”

“Not a lot of angels have that kind of desire to open that gate, Jake.”

He didn’t talk right away so Samael took the opportunity to speak again.

“Aren’t you going to offer your heart?”

Jake furrowed his brows, “No. Why would I do that? Everything’s going well.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Even if he’s a little confused, Jake nods his head and dismissed the gate keeper. He felt bothered, but just ignored it. You and him are completely fine.

Or so he thought...

Because despite of being happy around him. Despite feeling so much joy and contentment around Jake, your heart still felt heavy. Your Dad are mistreating you, only pointing out your wrongs and never giving care towards you. He was always the workaholic type, but this is just too much for you. Its like you don’t have a family.

Your Mom suffered with him, staying in a marriage that are so cold and dull. You are the only reason she stays and now she left you too because your Father, the one who suppose to be the one protecting and keeping your family together, broke it. He had an affair with somebody else and your mother couldn’t take such betrayal so she took her own life.

And now, you couldn’t believe your own eyes when he walked inside your house, a lady linking her arms on his.

“Y/n,” he calls. “This is (name). Your new mom.” he announced that broke you into pieces.

It was like your Dad didn’t care at all. He didn’t care to you or to your late mother. He’s disrespecting not only his marriage, but your own Mom. You couldn’t take it. Your heart that has a hole on it felt like being teared apart once again. Your heart that Jake tries to make whole are being ripped into pieces.

“She’s not my mother.” you said with gritted teeth.

The smile on his face faded.

“She isn’t my mom! And she will never be my mom! Get your bitch out of our house—” your ears ringed when a loud slap was thrown over your way.

Your eyes big out of shock and you’re stonned at yout position. Once recovered, you glared at him. You cursed him inside your mind and swears that he will pay for every pain he had caused you and your mother. So you ran. You run away that cold night.

Your feet hurts from walking mindlessly. It was past midnight and the streets are almost empty. Your head turns and you realized you’re at a bridge. A tear left your eye again after realizing of what you’re about to do.

You quickly fished your phone and dialled the number of the only person that matters to you.

“Hey, baby.” his warm voice made you smile. Tears pool over your eyes at the thought of hurting him so much, but you know there’s no escape.

Even if Jake’s mending the pain, its just too much for you. You wished you knew him sooner because he might’ve saved you. Jake might have lessen the scars. You love him and he loves you.

“Hey. Are you crying?” the worry over his tone just made you cry even more.

How can someone be so pure and genuine?

“I love you.” you said between your sobs. You can hear him from the other line, rummaging through things.

“Where are you right now? I’m coming to you. Stay put, baby.” he says.

You sniffs, “I l-love you so much, Jaeyun.” you mumbled, ignoring his questions.

“Y/n! Where the hell are you?!” his tone starts to panic.

“Thank you so much for everything. You made me happier.”

“Baby! Where—”

“Please tell me you love me.” you cut him off.

Jake’s going crazy already. His hands are shaking, his eyes teary. He doesn’t know what to do or where to start looking for you. He’s never been this scared.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you so much, hmm baby? Stay where you are. I’m coming.”

You smiled, contented of hearing those words from you. Even at the last moments you felt loved. All thanks to Jake Sim.

“Good bye.” and with that you end the call then climbed to the railings of the bridge.

“Y/n!!” Jake screams and tries to free himself from the nurses that are holding him off.

He went straight here at the hospital after hearing the news.

“Please, save her! Please.” he begged, tears streaming down his face.

“We are trying our best, Sir!”

Jake’s fell on his knees, hopeless. He was lost of words, mind’s a mess. Where did he went wrong? Why did you do it? Is he not enough? Are you not happy with him?

He slowly pulls himself back up and stormed outside the quiet parking lot of the hospital. He turns his head like a crazy man, desperately searching for someone.

“Samael!” he calls out.

“Samael!” he screams continuously.

He fell on his knees, crying.

“You call for me?”

His head lifts up, a hint of hope lights Jake’s eyes.

“Y/n will live, right?”

Samael kept his straight face, the usual playful grin on his face was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t know. Base on the records, none survived from that bridge.” Jake’s heart cracks at what he heard.

“She ended her life and you, as a former angel, knew very well that its a grave sin. Only means she cannot be granted another life and her soul will be stuck on the underworld.” Samael says.

“Take my heart.”

Samael stiffened at how fast Jake Sim said that. Without hesitation the young man stared at him straight to his eyes.

“Take my heart in exchange of saving her.” Jake said.

Samael smirks, “I thought you’re not going to be like the first fallen angel?”

“Save her. That’s my first wish.” Jake ignored his taunting question. A tear fell from his eyes.

“Are you sure? Without your heart, you won’t be able to be given another chance to walk on earth.” he reminds him.

“Save her.”

Samael nods and taps Jake’s chest. He grunts in pain and he saw that he was pulling something out from him. As to how he does that without killing him, he don’t know.

“Second wish?”

Jake sighs, “That y/n will live a normal and happy life in her next lives. She deserves to be happy.” he says genuinely.

“Even without you?”

Jake clenches his jaw. “If that means she can be happy without living with pain, then yes.”

Samael nods.

“Last wish?”

“Before I say my last wish, can I go see her first? I know she will be unconscious. I just want to see her one last time.”

Samael was lost of words, and just agrees on what Jake wishes. When they walked back inside the hospital, it was more peaceful. The nurse from a while ago smiles brightly at Jake when she recognized him.

“Sir! The patient is stable now! For some miracle the doctor’s managed to save her!”

Jake smiles warmly, tears streaming over his face. He turned over Samael and nods. He nodded back and just disappeared, giving him time with you.

After the doctor’s made sure that you are all right, you are moved to a more comfortable room. Jake enters and his heart broke at the sight of you full of machine operators around you. He tried to smile, but tears are all over his face.

“Baby,” he whispers and approached your bed to hold your hand. Feeling it so cold just made him even more heartbroken.

“I’m sorry.” he says, kissing your hand so gently.

“This world is too cruel to you. I promise to make it more nicer, okay?” he smiles and kisses you over your forehead.

“I love you so much.”

He stayed that way until he felt a presence by the corner of the room.

“It’s you, right?” Jake mumbles while he brush your hair softly.

“You are the first fallen angel,” he added, referring to Samael.

He cannot see his reaction, but he knew he somehow caught him off guard. Jake slowly trailed his eyes towards him and he saw him leaning over the wall.

“Park Sunghoon, the first fallen angel.” Jake says.

Samael, or Sunghoon as to how the angels used to address him, smirks. “You are really something.” he won’t lie. He did caught him off-guard.

“Well, you caught me.” he says and smirked.

“I’m just curious.” Jake says.

“About what?”

“Your last wish.” his eyes stares at the man full of anticipation. “What was your last wish when you offered your heart?”

Sunghoon smiles faltered for a bit. A hint of sorrow and pain flashes through his eyes.

“My last wish is that the love of my life will manage to find someone that will love her genuinely. A love so strong and pure with no greed and selfishness.” he says and smiled.

Jake didn’t talk right away, but he nods his head. He turns his head to face you. He stares at you lovingly and caress your face gently.

“Does 8 months with her worthy of the sacrifices you did?” Sunghoon asks.

“It was worth it and I will repeat it again in heartbeat if I may.” and he leaned in to give you last one kiss at your forehead, mumbling his undying love for you.

“Last wish, Jake.”

Jake sighs and faced Sunghoon.

“I wished for your heart to be returned so you can have a chance to live again and find true love.”

Sunghoon’s eyes grew at Jake’s wish. The latter smiles and taps his shoulder, still unable to speak a word.

“I can do that right? I can wish for someone else' heart to be returned.”

Jake sighs.

“You deserve to be loved too. Everyone does.” he sighs.

“Good bye, my love. I will love you forever.” Jake whispers and with that, he can feel himself being taken away by somebody. Sunghoon’s eyes watered in utter shock and the last thing Jake remembers is the darkness eating him whole.

Someone’s continuously yanking off his shoulder. Muffled voices were talking nonstop, pulling him off from his deep slumber. Slowly, Jake’s eyes flutter open. Slightly confused and taken aback, he started to wonder where he is.

“Dude, finally!” his brows furrowed hardly at the sight of a familiar boy.

”Heeseung?” his tone came out totally confused.

“Hurry up! We’ll be caught! Mrs. Choi’s furious! We already skipped a lot of practice! Hurry the fuck up!” it says in a panic voice and pulled him.

Even if in complete trance, he lets himself be dragged. Soon, some more familiar faces arrived. Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo and Ni-ki. These are the people from your previous life. But why are they here? Jake starts to wonder if he’s dreaming. Are they even allowed to dream back on the underworld?

“Fuck! We’re fucked! Hurry up!” Jungwon cursed and pushed pass those students so they can arrive the theater faster.

Upon arrival, Jake noticed that the stage was perfectly designed. His heart falters at the familiar scenery. It was the forbidden passage. But how...?

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Jake head turns when he heard a familiar voice.

“S-Sunghoon?”

His famous smirk flashes over his face, “If you’re going to ask me how did it happen, I can’t answer that. If you’re asking if this is true, yes.” he chuckled and put his hands inside his pockets. He’s wearing the same uniform as Jake and it isn’t the same ones from your previous school.

“You are alive. Again.” he says, and Jake rests his hand over his chest to feel his heart thumping lively.

“Then where is—Ow!” he grunted when he felt pain over his head once hit by something.

Now Jake’s sure that this isn’t a dream.

“Where were you, Jake Sim?! You are already punished because you cut class too much!”

Jake’s eyes widen and he turned around to face you. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. In front of him stands a fuming mad y/n. Yes, your hair may be a little different and the way you dresses, but its you. His heart thumped like crazy at the sight of you, like a puppy getting excited at the sight of its owner.

“Baby,” he mumbles and quickly pulled you into a hug.

He then yelped in pain when you pinched him over the sides, “Don’t you dare try to woo me with your sweet words!”

“Ow, that hurts!”

“Dude, is she not my girlfriend?” Jake asks Sunghoon who's smirking.

He scoffed, “She is. But you’re kind of a troublemaker so she’s really pissed off.”

“Kind of?! KIND OF?” your voice raised at what Sunghoon said.

The latter jolts as well and even straighten his back nervously. “You are lucky I managed to convince our drama club head to let you play the main lead in exchange of not expelling you.” you told Jake.

You seemed very mad, but the smile on Jake’s face aren’t fading at all. He looks at you with full affection and genuine longing.

“I love you, y/n.” Jake.

You blushed but you try hard to keep your angry face. “I love you too, but I’m still pissed. Go down and start rehearsing!” you screamed and starts to push him towards the stage.

“What is the play even about? I forgot.” Jake reasons out that irritated you even more.

“It's about the first fallen angel, you dumb!”

Jake groaned, “Who am I?”

“The fallen angel.”

He couldn’t believe what's happening right now as he continues to whine at you. Sunghoon puts his hands inside his pocket while watching the scene silently. A small genuine smile spread across his face.

He doesn’t know if the concept of angels keeping their memories even if they became human is a good thing. Because despite of living again, they carry the guilt of commiting a grave sin. Sunghoon’s fine along with it as he knew this is what makes himself whole. His silent plea of forgiveness and desire to be loved will always be with him.

“So you did find the person that will love you purely and genuinely, Y/n.” he sighs. “My love.” he whispers.

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