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blossomwritesthings · 7 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: dark academia college au. nonidol!hyunjin. enemies to lovers // academic rivals. angst. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. kindaa toxic relationship between hyunjin and reader since they're enemies in uni. ANGST!! reader comes from a poor background and hyunjin is the uni dean's prodigy son. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 10.6k (enjoy you filthy animals 😈)

summary: ever since you started studying at korean national university of arts in seoul, hwang hyunjin, the other top student of the school and the dean's son, has been an absolute thorn in your ass. although, it turns out that not all thorns are necessarily bad.

18+ warnings: dom!hyunjin x sub!reader. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). fingering. dirty thoughts/fantasies are mentioned. degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc). pet names (baby girl, sweetheart, doll face, etc). LOTS of hair pulling. BIG ownership/possession kink. breeding kink!!!. overstimulation. orgasm control. nipple/breast play. lots of dirty talk. subspace. loud sex. manhandling. humiliation kink. exhibitionism (fucking in a public library).

a/n: first of all, i'd just like to give a BIG shoutout to my dear friend @ahactress, for giving me the initial prompt to this about a month ago haha- without your help, I wouldn't be here right now honey!! 🤭💙 also, i'm sending all my love to my beautiful bestie @h0p3l3ssromantic, for encouraging me with her pretty words and her endless love... girl, you RULE and ilysm!!! 😫❤️ I don't know if it's public knowledge around these parts, but my dms on all my sns platforms are ALWAYS open for ya'll to spew your ramblings about my work haha - hmu on twt babes, I'm always down to chat~ ✨

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The moment you saw the dark, heavy clouds swirling low in the sky as you walked to your Survey of Humanities class, you knew that the day was going to be a shitty one. Already, you had woken up with a raging headache from the all-nighter you had pulled the day before to finish all of your homework for the following week.

Besides, it was a Monday too, and you fucking hated Mondays.

For one thing, the start of the new week always meant being bombarded with loads of assignments from the four classes you were taking. Being a junior with a Liberal Arts major was not as easy as everyone thought it was — and you constantly felt like you could never catch up on all of the homework.

With two formal art classes, one on charcoal drawings and the other on watercolor techniques, and then two upperclassman Humanities classes, your schedule was packed with studying time. Sometimes, it was hard to even eat during the day, since you were so busy with your schoolwork.

But there was no way around it, no excuses that could be made.

You either continued to stay at the top of your classes, as one of the best students in your grade for your graduation year, or you didn’t.

Your mother didn’t sacrifice everything she had for you to fail so horribly at university.

So you were okay with the stress and deadlines. Because you wanted to make both her and yourself proud.

And yeah, maybe you also wanted to prove to your classmates that you could do it.

You especially wanted to brag about your success to a certain man…

Hwang Hyunjin.

He was slated to graduate in your same year and was studying Technical Art. And holy shit— was he an insufferable ass. Unfortunately, since the two of you shared such close majors, you had found yourself in one too many classes with him during your time at the Korean National University of Arts in Seoul. It also didn’t help that he was coined as one of the #1 students in the entire school, and did everything in his power to make everyone aware of this fact.

Especially you.

If he earned just two points more than you on an exam in the same class that you were taking together, he’d nonchalantly wave the white paper in front of you after the exam period, taunting you with his sly tongue and that cruel grin of his.

Most of the time, you managed to ignore his wicked teasing, sticking to yourself and your small group of study buddies. But on the rare occasion that he did get under your skin, you’d snap irrevocably and usually land yourself in the Dean’s office.

But of course, Hyunjin was also there because — news flash — he was the son of the fucking Dean of the university.

Usually, the meetings after your blowups were casual and spoken in soft voices, with Dean Hwang recounting the school’s long integrity policy to you, which you had already memorized in the back of your head after your third visit to his office. The entire time the Dean reminded you of how your ‘behavior was uncalled for in the situation,’ Hyunjin would be standing in the corner of his father’s office, arms folded across his chest and canting his head to the side as he studied you with a pleased little devilish sneer on his face.

After every single one of the meetings, he’d always try to catch up to you outside of his father’s office. This usually landed in you cursing him out under your breath and telling him to fuck off before you retreated into the shadows of one of the many hallways.

And as it just so happened, your Survey of Humanities class also had a certain raven-haired man constantly sitting in the farthest seat from the front of the lecture hall.

It was almost comical how good-looking he was, coupled with his genius brain. Because as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was incredibly smart… in both the arts and all other forms of academics. He aced every single quiz and exam he was given, got 100s on every technical art research essay he wrote, and was involved in practically every club there was on campus.

The girls of your grade fawned all over him, and even the freshmen were weak to his looks whenever he’d pass them in the hallway. He looked right out of an early 2000s fashion magazine, with his model-like physic, long, shaggy black hair that perfectly framed his face and curled at the nape of his neck, not to mention the expensive designer clothes he was always seen in.

You had never seen him dress like the other guys of his same age — had never seen him clad in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a worn oversized graphic tee. Instead, he rolled up to the curb of the university in his cherry red 2023 Rolls Royce, dressed to the nines in fitted coats, light-washed designer jeans, and crisp white button-downs.

Hwang Hyunjin had been the school’s ultimate heartthrob for as long as you could remember, and you had heard rumors of the kind of things he did with his lovers — taking his girlfriends out to expensive restaurants in the heart of the city, before bringing them back to his luxurious apartment and fucking them late into the night. Usually, you tended to ignore the dating and sex part of your arch nemeses' life, and instead just focused on beating him at his own game of academics.

And during that early Friday morning in the middle of October, as you strolled through the doors of the lecture hall and your eyes scanned over the students already seated, you caught sight of him.

Dressed in a casual, brown turtleneck and dark-washed jeans, he looked like he had just walked straight out of an autumn edition of GQ Men. He was seated in his usual place, legs crossed and hands busy scribbling away notes on his iPad. As you floated beside him and towards your seat at the very back of the hall, you caught the scent of him — a mix of earthy musk and dark roasted coffee beans.

He didn’t pay you the time of day as you flitted past him and took out your notebooks once you were seated down. Thankfully, he seemed to be choosing the route of ignoring you for the day, much to your relief.

Soon, the professor strode into the lecture hall and began the class. For a while, he droned on about the midterm that all of the students had taken the week before, and how he was impressed with the class’ results. “Although, two students in particular outshined everyone else,” he began, his eyes scanning the lecture hall until they landed on Hyunjin seated just two rows before you. “Hyunjin, excellent work — it’s quite rare that I see a student score a 100 on the midterm,” then his focus was floating upward and landing on you. “Y/N, you’re short essay for the midterm was superb, and your choice of art analysis was a very unique one for sure.”

Just as the professor was focusing back on the rest of the course material, you could sense someone’s gaze trained on you. Staring forward, you caught a glimpse of him shooting you a snarky grin. You glared daggers into his skull, just wishing that he’d get shot in the foot and keel over in pain at that moment.

He always liked to gloat when he got a higher score than you on the tests, and you both knew that he had done better on the test overall — since the professor only mentioned his 100 and not yours. But apparently, your midterm essay was a hell of a lot better than his.

Sticking out your tongue at him playfully, you rolled your eyes before folding your arms across your chest and turning your attention back on the slides that the professor was ticking through. Hyunjin got under your skin so much he sometimes felt like a fucking disease — burrowed so deeply inside your veins, it was almost impossible to cut out the hatred.

“For this week’s assignment, you guys will be paired up into groups of two to create a joint presentation on the topic of ‘The Descent into Madness,’” As soon as you heard the professor mention splitting the class into groups, you felt your heart leap inside your chest. You only hoped that you wouldn’t be paired up with him. “Using your textbooks as a guideline, I want all of you to choose one specific piece of art from any period you want and conduct deep research into the mad aspects of it — dive into as much detail about the formal elements as you’d like, but make sure to follow the grading rubric and cite all academic sources. I’ve posted the list of paired groups on the bulletin board up here near the projector, so make sure to check it before you leave class today.”

You tuned out all other information the professor gave about the week’s assignment, too focused on seeing who you were paired with. As soon as he dismissed class, you were shooting up from your seat and hoisting your heavy tote bag across your shoulder.

Flitting down the stairway, you made it to the bulletin board before all of the other students did. They were idling around because no one gave two shits about who they were paired with. No one except for you.

“Please, please, please—” You prayed in a whispered tone under your breath as your eyes scanned the matched columns of students. When you came upon your name and saw who was next to it, it felt like the ground at your feet had opened right up and sucked you in entirely. “Fuck my life.” Heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, your palm squeezed a little tighter around the strap of your bag.

“Oh shit— looks like the professor decided to give you a fighting chance by pairing you up with the best student in the entire school.” You heard Hyunjin’s silky voice say from somewhere behind you.

Swinging around on your heels, you caught a glimpse of his sardonic, wide smirk, as his eyes scanned the look of sheer anger on your face. Giving a dry, humorless chuckle, he shoved his hands into his pockets and canted his head to the side in a quizzical kind of way.

“We’re only going to ace this project because of me— and let’s be clear here, I’m the better writer out of the two of us.” You said in a low voice, pointing an accusing finger at him in utter disgust. You could feel your brows pulling together from the rage that was building up inside of you. And all from the thought of being forced to work with him.

“Yeah, but I’m the better test taker.”

“Fuck you.”

Hyunjin chuckled wickedly, the tip of his blush pink tongue coming out and wetting a corner of his plush bottom lip. “Oh honey, I’m sure you wish you could.”

Already, you could tell that he was egging you on. Trying to get your goad so that you’d explode and be dragged to the Dean’s office. So that he could stare down at you with that same smug look on his face as his precious little daddy rattled off the university’s code of conduct.

Well fuck that bullshit.

Seeing too much red, you decided to excuse yourself from the equation before you said something horrible that got you sent into the Dean’s office again or even worse — kicked from the class.

“I’ll see you on Monday night at ten in the library,” you said in finality, squinting your eyes up at him and just wishing you could wring your hands around his perfect little neck. “Don’t be late.”

“I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.”

“For now you sure fucking do.”

Then you were turning around and pushing out of the lecture hall, practically running down the corridor as fast as you could, heart pounding in your chest because… what the hell were you going to do?

That entire weekend leading up to the Monday night that you planned to spend with Hyunjin, you just about lost your mind over the worry of it all. Would he continue to be an asshole to you the entire time? Would he work well with you and compromise on things? How would everything go?

You were so stressed about the entire thing that you practically drove your roommate Felix insane with annoyance. Late Sunday morning, when you were making circles around your living room couch as you stressed about everything, he finally burst out in a loud outcry.

“Y/N! You seriously need to take a chill pill, you’re going to run holes right into the fucking carpet!” He said in an exasperated tone, muting the show that he was watching on the large flatscreen TV.

Peering up at him with wide, guilty eyes, you offered him a meek smile. “I’m sorry, Lix— it’s just… you know how much I hate Hyunjin and I—”

Felix rolled his eyes at you, completely fed up with your bullshit at that moment. “Yes, yes, I know. You’ve told me about a million times at this point. But like… don’t let it get to you, yeah? Just go out there and do your very best,” his eyes flitted back to the TV as he un-muted his show. “I mean… how bad could working with Hwang Hyunjin really be? Besides you, he’s one of the top students in the entire school.”

But he didn’t know Hyunjin like you did.

No one did.

They didn’t see the cruel side to him, the mean side.

They didn’t hear the words he’d mumble to you with venom after a big test or the taunting he’d throw your way if you one-upped him in some way.

Others didn’t see the dark looks he’d give you after classes or the way he’d practically talk behind your back each time you passed him in the hallway — whispering to his groupies and making all the guys chuckle heartily.

So yeah, working with him was a pretty fucking big deal.

Nonetheless, you took Felix’s advice and tried to relax as much as you could before the start of the new week. You studied the material that you wanted to research for the project, deciding to focus on Hamlet’s Ophelia for your analysis.

And if Hyunjin didn’t want to go with that character, well… too bad.

By the time Monday night rolled around, you felt more prepared than ever before and stepped into the Library’s main doors with settled ease. The university’s library was your favorite place on campus and had been the location for many of your long night study sessions over your time in school. With its dark gothic architecture outside and its sweeping gables, it was a true sight to behold. Not to mention the cozy atmosphere of the interior — all of the cozy nooks and crannies of the place, filled with warm candlelight and large chandeliers and settees made everything feel so mysterious and relaxing.

You strode through the isles filled with books, noticing how it was almost empty of any other student. That’s why you liked coming to the place late at night because it was relatively devoid of life and incredibly quiet. And you liked the quiet — it made it easy for you to focus on your studies. Finally, you stumbled upon a spacious table tucked into the very corner of one part of the place on the upper floor, with a large bay window just in front of the wooden table.

With a glance outside the pane, you noticed how the darkening sky had opened up to reveal a sheet of heavy rain — it pelted down on the few students that were passing by the outside of the library on the sidewalk there, as they ran for cover. Methodically, you brought out your supplies — booting up your laptop and positioning your notebook and pens just so.

Checking your phone, the screen flashed that it was fifteen minutes past ten o’clock already. Was he not even planning on showing up? Was he going to completely bail on you and instead take you down by sabotaging the entire thing?

As you sat down in one of the cushiony, velvet-lined chairs, your mind began to race with all of the possibilities of what Hyunjin might be stewing up to take you down.

Then, almost like your thoughts had summoned him, you heard footsteps at your back and turned to see Hyunjin rounding the corner of the tall bookshelves that were lined on either side of your chosen table. With one glance at him, you noticed the soaked-through fabric of his tan coat and the way his dark hair curled around the nape of his neck with moisture. He must’ve gotten caught in the rain and that’s why he was late.

“I thought you were going to bail on me entirely.”

Giving you a swarthy look, he plopped down into the seat just across from you and threw his heavy book bag atop the table. “Good evening to you as well.” He grumbled, slipping off his coat and showcasing the wetness hidden just underneath there. His light, cream-colored button-down was almost sheer from the rainwater… highlighting his muscular shoulder blades and the tips of his pecks.

“Didn’t you know it was supposed to rain heavily tonight?”

Not even paying you another glance, he focused on pulling out his supplies. “I’m not the fucking weatherman, I don’t regularly check up on shit like that.”

“Well, you should— maybe you wouldn’t ruin so many of your precious, rich boy clothes if you did.”

At that, his hands stopped moving and he stared up at you with slitted eyes. Giving your own choice of outfit a long once over, the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Well damn— are you jealous or something?” You weren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a comfortable pair of black sweatpants and a warm violet turtleneck top.

“Let’s just focus on getting to work.” You shot back, hands typing away at your computer keyboard. “Did you figure out a piece you want to analyze?”

“Yeah, Hamlet’s Ophelia.”

His words were silky and smooth against your ears, but his answer is what got you shooting your gaze up to his again. Mouth dropping open a little bit in surprise, you cleared your throat from the sudden quietness between you. “Oh— uhm, I was thinking the same,” you began, opening up the Word document that you had already started working on that past weekend. “It would probably be a good idea to study Hamlet’s character too since he's the catalyst of her problems.”

“No, he isn’t. She already had them to begin with — he just heightened their outcome.”

You were so taken aback by his comment, that it took a few seconds for your brain to process everything. But when it finally clicked, you were gaping up at him in astonishment. “I’m sorry, what? You’re going to blame her for the fact that Hamlet was the sole cause of it all?” Your voice was steadily rising, as you began to get irritated by his suggestion.

Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, as he scribbled down a few things in his notebook. “I mean, yeah. She already had a history of mental disorders, her death was bound to happen anyway.” He matched your tone, words growing louder and ringing out across the small expanse of the library that the two of you were in.

“I seriously cannot believe you right now.” You began, shaking your head in anger as you tried to focus on your bright computer screen again. But his argument just rubbed you the wrong way entirely, and you found yourself speaking up again. “I didn’t realize how much of a fucking misogynist you were. But oh, wait— it’s perfectly clear now if the way you treat me is anything to go off of.”

“I’m not a misogynist, Y/N.” The way his tone curled around the sound of your name did something funny to the depths of your soul. He had never called your name outright like that, never addressed you head-on. And it was both weird and oddly satisfying. “All I’m saying is that her descent into madness was pretty warranted since she was in an already heightened state of emotions.”

You gave him a deep glare, tilting your head to the side in annoyance. “Just say you hate women, it’s okay, Hyunjin. I won’t bug you about it.”

“Like hell, you won’t.” He mumbled under his breath, long fingers typing out something on his computer.

And that was enough to completely set you off.

There were no other students around, no professors to tell you off, and no Deans to harp on you about correct student conduct.

“Seriously, what the hell is your problem?! You’re so fucking annoying and a total piece of shit. I honestly have no idea how you’re at the top of the school when all you do is belittle others!” This time, you were shouting outright. Throwing him an ominous glare and shutting your computer with a resounding thud.

Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, lengthy arms folded across his chest as the rain pelted against the misty window just at his back. “Oh, and like you’re any better? You always love to shove your accomplishments in everyone else’s faces— you ever stop to think how that makes others feel?” He was yelling now too, stroking a hand through his long locks that were steadily dripping with tiny droplets of rainwater.

Shaking your head in disappointment, you took in a resounding deep breath. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you’d be an asshole the entire time and I knew we wouldn’t get any work done,” as you said the words, you were already gathering up your things, shoving them into your bag, and leveling him with a cold stare. “So let’s just forget it - this - okay? Just… work on it by yourself and then we can compile our info together the day of and—”

“Sit down, Y/N.”

The way his command slipped out from between his lips in a low, gravelly voice shook something loose deep within your very being. For a moment, you almost felt compelled to listen to him. Like under a mystical enchantment, your limbs wanted to move on their own accord and seat yourself down again. But the rational part of your brain overtook all other thoughts as you stood your ground and hovered just next to the table.

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not your daddy— you don’t have the authority of the Dean.”

For the last few moments, he hadn’t been looking at you, eyes instead trained on his computer still. Almost like, the entire ordeal didn’t bother him that much. Like you were a minor inconvenience to him in the grand scheme of his rich, privileged life.

But all at once, he was tipping his head towards the high rafters of the library’s ceiling, stare catching with yours. The stormy look you saw there, dancing around in his brown irises, forced your heart to leap in the pit of your throat.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“I’m never going to listen to you, so tough luck, fucker.”

Taking in a deep breath, his entire body shuddering with the motion, he held your gaze and motioned with a tilt of his head to the seat in front of him that you had just gotten up from. “Sit. Down.”

And like a single crack suddenly appearing in a delicate vase, your mind was losing all conscious thought and you were moving without any other thought. His seething, low tone overtook your entire system, his focus on you sending a shock of shivers up the length of your spine again and again, unrelenting.

“What?” You asked, noticing the surprised expression on his face from the way that you had fucking listened to him once, seated in your chair again. “I was tired of hearing your stupid demands.”

Hyunjin flipped through a few pieces of paper in his notebook before he pushed it your way. “Give that a look over, it’s the notes I took on Ophelia over the weekend.” The idea of him studying for the project just like you had done forced your mind to run rampant with all kinds of thoughts. Like, was he also stressing out about the meeting like you had been doing?

“I already told you— we’re not working together.”

“For Christ’s sake, just give it up!” Hyunjin exclaimed in a loud voice, throwing his hands up into the air in mock defeat. “You act like this is the deciding project of our grade— it’s a fucking weekly assignment. All we have to do is our best, which will be pretty damn good if we’re both working on it.”

“So then you admit that I’m a good student.” You raised an eyebrow his way, fingers slowly taking ahold of his notebook and playing with the edges of the paper.

Taking in a deep sigh, he pointed at the notebook in front of you. “Just focus— okay? I want to get as much work done as possible tonight.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if we get a bad grade because we rush it.” You said, finally raising the white flag of surrender and taking in the contents of his notebook. The notes were detailed and insanely good, highlighting certain formal aspects of Ophelia’s character and the overarching themes of her madness. “Wow— this is… really good.” You said in a quiet voice, almost hoping that he wouldn’t hear it.

Rummaging through your nearby bag, you pulled out a pink highlighter to take some notes, and your chosen lollipop for the night, mango flavored. You liked to reward yourself with a fun treat of candy whenever you did late-night studying sessions since the sugar kept your energy levels high and helped to keep you focused. Ever since you were a little girl, you seemed to concentrate better when your mind wasn’t entirely on the content you were studying.

“I mean, I’m not coined as one of the school’s top students for nothing,” Hyunjin remarked in a sarcastic tone. You chose to ignore his comment and instead focus on his neat handwriting and the way his words fit in perfectly to the columns of the notebook paper.

Everything about him was perfect — from his looks to his academic success to his damn handwriting. Hell, what wasn’t he good at?

For one thing, being a nice fucking person.

And he seemingly couldn’t grasp the idea of how not to be an asshole to people he didn’t like.

Unfortunately, you were categorized in his list of people that he hated.

As you flipped to the next page in his notebook, your tongue swirled around the lollipop in your mouth. The sugary sweetness of the artificial mango flavor coated your tongue deliciously, and it awakened all of your senses in the best way possible. The minutes seemed to tick by, as you began to make notes based on Hyunjin’s research from his notebook, turning away from the paper and typing into the Word document that you had started for the project.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you could hear Hyunjin’s soft inhales and exhales, as he focused on his research. All else was quiet in the library, what with it being completely void of life on a Monday at eleven at night. You could distinctly pick out the sounds of rainfall pitter-pattering just outside the large window behind Hyunjin’s seat, as the night drew on in a heavy mist of dew and moisture.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Hyunjin’s words were faint and broke you out of your daze of thought. You had been frantically writing down some of your critiques about Ophelia as a character, and your head shot up from your computer to catch a glimpse of him staring back at you.

You didn’t know how long he had been like that, sitting back in his chair, long, raven hair a wavy mess around his face and eyes a little bleary from a mixture of sheer exhaustion and that… darkness that you could never quite pinpoint. You had only ever seen him direct such swarthy looks at you, and that fact disheartened you a lot.

“I think the real question you should be asking is what’s not to hate about you.” You deadpanned, giving him a deep frown as you poked your lollipop into the corner of one of your cheeks, tucking it away for the moment.

Folding his arms across his chest in that abrasive way that he always did around you, he tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, spill the tea.”

Taking in a deep breath to stave off your rising nerves and irritation with the man before you, you carded a few fingers through your hair. “To start with, you’re a complete and total asshole.”

“I think we’ve already touched on this point by now.”

His retort left you to stare daggers into his eyes, wishing someone would just come up behind him and slit his throat because you sure did want to at that moment. But you also supposed that the Dean of the university wouldn’t take a liking to you murdering his son.

“Secondly, you’re always stuck up and hard-headed and annoying and… and immature.”

Hyunjin blew out a deep, long whisper. “Damn, spare my ego some, will ya?”

But you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. He had started the engine of the train, and now you were rolling down the tracks of sheer rising anger and all of the pent-up rage that you had felt towards him for the past three years. “And you’re right okay? I am fucking jealous. I’m so jealous of you that I can’t breathe sometimes— you haven’t had to work a day in your life for your position, yet I’ve had to scrape by on my hands and knees, clawing— begging at life to grant me just one fucking break.” You weren't even yelling. Instead, the words just come out hushed and all too grave.

Like, if anyone else but him heard them, you’d crumble into a pile of ash and disintegrate into thin air, never to be seen again. Because it was fucking embarrassing, to be so affected by him still, even after all of these years.

He stayed silent, watching as you flayed your hands around in the air in your exasperation. You were fed up with your life and the hold that he had over it. You were finally at your breaking point and you had had enough.

And you think that at that moment, he had also seen and acknowledged that, staying silent to let all of the words spew out of you like an erupting volcano that had been bound to blow from the very start.

“But you? You get everything handed to you on a pretty, silver platter because your daddy is wealthy and you're drop-dead gorgeous and practically have the brain of a neuroscientist. Meanwhile, I was raised by a poor single mother in the slums of Seoul and the only way I got into this university in the first place is because I busted my ass throughout middle and high school to earn the top student’s place,” you pointed a finger between the two of you. Almost like, the tip of it was sharp enough, you could cut right through him. Blade tearing through sinew and flesh and bones. “And then you dare to come around these parts, acting like you own everything, trying to put me in my place. When in reality, you’re the one that needs to be put in your place. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, and I’ve always thought… why not me?”

For a moment, nothing else happens after that.

And irrationally, you’re suddenly afraid of him.

Of what he might do — what he might say and to whom — with this newfound information about you.

Hardly anyone at school knew about your personal life and struggles. You tended to stay to yourself and instead focus on your studies instead of going out to late-night parties or hitting up the local clubs. And you were an extremely private person, to begin with. You saw no point in pouring out your life's sob story to people you would never see again after four years.

But all at once, you wondered if Hwang Hyunjin was a dangerous man.

If he was someone who would use your personal information against you.

And if the last three years were anything to go off of, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Fuck— I shouldn’t have said all of that,” you grumbled, jamming your fingers into your eye sockets and scrubbing at your lids. “Just… forget all of this, yeah? Forget I said anything.” Then you were standing up from your seat for the second time that night, heart leaping in the pit of your chest as you once again gathered your things into your bag. “It’s late anyways. I should head home and keep studying for my other classes. We can meet up some other time for this, it’s not due til, what… Sunday? That gives us plenty of—”

“Y/N.” Just like before, the sound of your name on his tongue caused you to pause entirely, limbs halting their movement of shoving your computer into your bag. “Just— shut up, yeah?” His voice came out softer than you expected it would, forcing a shiver down the length of your spine.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?”

“Y/N.”

“Why, because it makes you feel things?” He asked in a gravelly voice. You were avoiding even looking at him at that moment, hands a little shaky as you anxiously started to suck on your lollipop again, rolling it around in the corner of your cheek. “What are you so afraid of?”

“You, okay?! It’s always been you!” Your outburst was a lot louder than you expected it to be, ringing across the space between you and echoing in the far distance of the library’s upper-level floor.

A beat of silence lapsed between the two of you, and you trained your gaze on a corner of the room, studying the small dust bunny that stood there, completely still and lifeless. In that moment, you could relate to it quite a bit. Lost and confused. Wanting to move away, but not being able to for some weird reason.

Hyunjin’s old wooden settee creaked in the silence, as he shifted in his position. “To be honest, I’m scared of you too.” And just like that, your head was snapping his way and your eyes were widening in surprise. “For one, I’m scared of that stupid thing.” With his dark eyes, he motioned towards your mouth. To the lollipop that you were dutifully sucking on, in and out, in and out. You stopped altogether when you realized why he had been so quiet during your studying session. He hadn’t been studying — he had been focusing on you, on the candy in your mouth. Feeling self-conscious about it, you took it out of your mouth and laid it down on the table. “And I’m scared of how you make me feel— crazed out of my mind, all of the time. Like a sick fucking plague, you inhabit my everything… from the moment I wake to the moment I ease, you’re all I can think about, all I can dream about. And I hate it so fucking much that it kills me a little bit more every single day.”

“Hyunjin, I—”

His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, head tipping back in delight as his lips parted just slightly. “Yes— fuck, say it again.”

“Say… what?”

“You know.”

Heart leaping wildly in your throat, and broken butterflies waning in the depths of your stomach, your mouth was moving on its own accord. “Hyunjin.”

Like a trigger being pulled back from a gun and flitting the weapon into action, the bullet was shot across the distance between the two of you. And the bullet was your words — you calling out his name.

In an instant, he was a flurry of motion before you. All designer clothes soaked from rainwater and long, wavy hair that still had droplets of water at the tips. He was a flash of milky skin hidden underneath a sheer, wet button-down. The faint, waning moonlight shining through the window pane cast an ominous, angelic-like halo around his tall, built frame.

And by the time you could breathe again, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Pinned up against the nearest tall bookshelf that reached up into the height of the library's ceiling. One strong hand pinning your two hands against the wood above your head, while the other was positioned just unearth your chin, holding your jaw bone and stroking the flesh there with a gentle thumb.

“Now tell me you feel nothing at all, tell me you fucking hate me with your entire being, that you’ll always hate me, and that you think I’m a deprived cunt who needs to be murdered ruthlessly in front of everyone I love.” His words were hushed, their meaning brutal. His face was so close to yours, that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. Leaning into you, he drove his middle a little closer to the part of your legs.

Breath catching painfully between your windpipes and the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with blurry vision. Your attention was growing fuzzy at the edges, as you could do nothing more but hone in on… him. Subconsciously, you could feel the mango sweetness of your lollipop coating your tongue again and again as you swallowed.

“I—I hate you so fucking much, Hwang Hyunjin.”

He pressed into you a little further, breathing in your scent and closing his eyes as his head tipped close to one part of your neck. Mouth hovering over the shell of your ear, he whispered, “Say it again, sweetheart, with a little more passion this time.”

“I… I hate you so much, I can’t function with the thought of you existing in the same lifetime as me.”

You felt him moving against you then, hand moving away from your jaw and coming around one of your hips, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your black sweatpants. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart…” He started, mouth hovering over that space just behind your ear, warm breath fanning against your exposed gooseflesh there. “I won’t hurt you— it was never my intention in the first place. It was… just a fun game to me, to toy around with you. But I never wanted to actually fucking hurt you.”

You could feel your mind and heart racing in tandem, going a mile a minute, as you took in all of his words. Because what, the actual fuck? What was he saying? And why was he saying it? And why did you feel yourself crumbling from it all, your resolve breaking down into dust and getting whisked away to the future of Neverland?

“I never meant to make you cry,” He said slowly, pulling away from your face just a tiny bit to gauge your reaction to his confession. You gaped up at him, completely speechless in your unadulterated wonder. “Sure, I wanted to make you cry— but not in the cruel kind of way… not in the way that most people would like to do.”

His insinuation, his innuendo there, jumbled something around deep inside of your spirit. And you could practically feel your knees buckling underneath you from the reality of it all. From the fact that he was never truly set out to cause you permanent damage. And so far, he hadn’t. All he had done was make an ass out of himself and be a continual thorn in your side. But he wasn’t necessarily entirely cruel, and you never truly suspected that he’d do something catastrophically damaging.

“But all you have to do is tell me— tell me you never thought about me or dreamed about me or wondered about me, and I’ll be gone forever. You’ll never hear, or see me again. It’ll be like I never existed in the first place and I—”

“I can’t fathom a life without you in it,” you suddenly blurted out, already feeling the hint of crimson blooming beneath your cheeks and at the tip of your nose. You peered up at him, staring into those depthless, chocolate-brown eyes, reading the dancing emotions there. “Sure, I might despise your guts at times, but… I also think you’re a pretty amazing guy. And… I have to admit that sometimes, I do think about you when I’m alone, at night, and laying in my bed.”

His hand clutched a little tighter at your hip then, his fingers intertwining with yours and continuing to hoist your arms up and above your head. “Oh yeah? What do you imagine when you think about me so late into the night?” He rasped out, the sound of his voice grating against your ears and sending flames to burst across the entirety of your veins.

“Your face, mostly— how your lips would feel and how you’d taste and what you’d sound like if—”

After that, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence.

He was honing in on you like a vulture to its prey, moving with such swiftness — like a phantom in the night, like a monster hidden underneath the bed, like a selkie in the depths of the ocean.

As it turns you, your dreams about him were accurate.

Because his plush lips did feel like pure heaven.

They pushed against yours, his mouth fitting atop yours like something that was carved into the universe — something that was almost meant to be. He was devouring you whole — heart and mind and soul and body.

And with each press of his silky lips, you fell down the hole of darkness and heat just a little bit more. Then the tip of his tongue was poking out and tracing the line of your mouth and you fell into him, fingers clawing at his that still had your arms held up high above your head, desperately searching for purchase as your legs threatened to give out underneath you.

When his tongue plowed into the small part between your lips, you let out a breathless moan. The kind that had been hidden deep, buried, and un-satiated for so fucking long. By the time he was tasting you, his hands had released your arms and you were scrambling for something to hold. Desperately, in your haste of arousal and temptation, you were clutching at the cool, wet fabric of his cream-colored button-down, holding on for dear life as his hands tightened around your waist and hoisted you up against the bookshelf further.

Your spine crammed into the wooden shelves there, as you wrapped your legs around his torso, yanking him closer with each passioned kiss that he gave you. Again and again, he drew those same, sinful sounds out of you. Just like all of the times before, he was playing a sick kind of game with you. But this time, it wasn’t all that bad. This time, you were quite enjoying yourself.

As your parted legs held his hips close to your frame, you could feel the hardness there, in the center of him. Just aching to be released. And suddenly, you came to terms with the fact that the wetness between your legs was rapidly growing with each kiss that he gave you.

He sucked on your lips like they were his lifeline — and you wondered, in that moment, how he’d treat the rest of you — how much attention he’d offer the rest of your body.

“J-Jin, I—” The shortened nickname slipped out between your lips when the two of you parted to catch your breaths. And when you noticed his swollen mouth, you were almost positive that yours looked just as bad, if not worse.

“What, baby doll?” He hummed, mouth moving away from yours entirely and coming close to the line of your jaw. You blushed wildly at the pet name, liking the way it sounded in his silky voice. He moved aside the thick fabric of your violet-colored knit turtleneck with his nose, lips attaching to the skin of your neck and suckling like a vampire drunken on the crimson of his lover. “What is it that you need right now?”

Your hands were scrambling for him, finding purchase in his dark roots and pulling just a tad bit there. The abuse to his scalp made him hiss out, warm breath painting across the heated flesh of the column of your neck brilliantly. “N—Need you t—to—” But your words were cut short by the way one of his hands was moving away from your waist, traveling under the hemline of your sweater, a long, nimble finger dancing across your belly button and rising to the center of your stomach.

“You need me, hmm?” He mused lowly, mouth having journeyed down to the skin closest to your clavicle, leaving violet-hued marks that would surely survive into the next few days. “Need me to fuck you, right? Need me to take you so irrevocably well right here and right now… can’t wait any longer, yeah?” As he spoke the words into existence, his naughty hand was already finding its way toward the lace of your bralette, skirting across its edges. Then, a single finger dipped underneath the elastic there, skirting up the length of your breast until it was resting against your pebbled nub. “Such a naughty little thing… who knew that the university’s prodigy just needed a good fucking, huh? That all she wanted was to get fucked open against the library bookshelves.”

You were gasping out in pure bliss, fingers digging in a little harder into his long wisps of hair as his hands began to explore your chest. Brushing, twisting, pulling. Then doing it all over again with the other mound. “Y—Yeah,” you managed to spit out, trembling underneath him, legs wounding tighter around his waist, bringing him ever closer. “Can you do that… fuck me? I need it so bad right now, I can’t handle it if you just leave me like this…” You were practically begging out the words, so desperate in your pleas that you were almost certain your groveling was boosting his already inflated ego.

“I only fuck good girls. Girls who don’t call me an asshole and don’t say they hate me.”

At that, your eyes were tearing open in a mix of surprise and despair. But the way that his hand didn’t stop touching your breasts, still playing with them, told you everything you needed to know at that moment.

You wiggled your hips slowly, grinding into the hardness between his dark-washed jeans. “Stop touching me then— stop kissing me and stop looking at me,” you began, taunting him with your movements and the way that you spoke in a velvety tone, all soft and delicate and innocent. When what the two of you were doing was anything but innocent. “But you can’t, right? Can’t get the thought of me out of your head— of what this pussy would feel like clenched around your cock, squeezing you for dear life as you fuck into me for the hundredth time in a single day—”

He was cutting off your words with his quick hands, shedding off your sweater and bralette in one go. Then he was bending down slowly, hands coming up to cup your chest. He stared up at you from his crouched position, watching the feelings rove across your face as he blew hot hair against one of your nipples.

“Just fucking shut up already bitch,” he said in a low grumble, as his hand came over your tit, mouth melding onto the warm skin there effortlessly. His other hand was busy playing with your neglected breast, squeezing there a little bit harder when his teeth grazed one of your nipples, tongue lapping at the bud. “You’re only to speak when spoken to, you understand me?” He asked, pulling away from your breast and making a crude, wet sucking noise as he did so.

Glaring down at him through lust-filled eyes, you sneered his way. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, asshole.” Hands gripping onto his hair a little bit, you pushed his face closer to your chest as he began to work on your other breast, leaving a ring of wetness as he went. “And don’t call me bitch.”

You could feel him smirk against your skin, his low chuckle vibrating against your gooseflesh and sending ripples of energy to course through your veins. “Mhm— why not? Your pussy sure seems to love the name.” He mused sadistically, completely unlatching from your breast, hands finding their way back at your hips.

“What are you even talk—”

But he didn’t leave any more room for questions, one hand ripping away from your waist and covering your covered centre. “This, right here,” he said in a low whisper, fingers cupping your warmth there, and you could practically feel the essence dripping out of you, just behind your thin panties and sweatpants. “Bet you’ll get even more soaked when I call you it again.”

“You know nothing about me.” The words came out garbled and wobbly, as he maneuvered your sweatpants down and off of your legs entirely. “Y—You don’t know my body.”

He threw you a sardonic kind of smile, leaning into the side of you, lips caressing the shell of your ear as he spoke in soft tones. “Yeah, but I’ve done a hell of a lot of observing over the years…” At his words, you could feel his hand nearing your middle again, and you involuntarily parted your legs in want.

When his fingers came in contact with the lace of your panties, you had to pull out your biggest bout of self-control to hold in the moan that wanted to escape from you. His movements were expert level, as he pushed the fabric off to the side, running a single finger up your lips, feeling for that small spot at the very top. Circling his thumb around there, his other fingers worked at your entrance, and before you knew it, he was pressing two long digits into you.

“F—Fuck—“ You groaned at the feeling of it all, falling into him and clawing at his shoulders that were still covered in that damp button-up shirt. “Hyunjin.” You were moaning out his name before you even realized it, hips jutting up slowly against his hand, your head getting thrown back as his fingers searched and found that warm, gooey spot deep inside of you.

“See? I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing,” he muttered, lips coming around the side of your neck and suckling violet marks into the skin there. “So be a good bitch and shut up for me, yeah? Take it like a good girl— like the good whore that I know you are.”

You couldn’t even protest against him using the name again, because, in all honesty, you did like it. It felt dirty and wrong but so very fucking right at the same time. It caused your walls to spasm against the three fingers he had stuck inside of you, as he pumped in and out with a rabid kind of pace. The sound of his movements forced shivers down the length of your spine, as his thumb pressed into your clit a little more.

“Y—You gotta fuck me now, Jin—” You mumbled, already reaching the edge of orgasm from the way that he was steadily working you up with his hand alone. Half of his fingers were buried deep inside of you and the others were desperately clutching at your hip bone to bring you closer to him. The sounds he was pulling from you, both wetness and moans of pleasure, were other-worldly. “N—Need to feel your cock inside of me, right fucking now.”

In your daze of lust, you found yourself clasping at the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them and sliding his damp shirt off of his frame. What lay underneath was a chiseled chest — a muscular abdomen, biceps that rippled with each breath he took, and a dark trail that led towards his dick. You ran your fingers down the milky expanse of his chest, marveling at how soft and chiseled everything felt.

Sighing out quietly, you stared up at him with pleading eyes. “You’re so fucking hot… always knew you would be.” That made Hyunjin smirk with satisfaction, as he tipped into you for a breathless kiss.

While his lips captured your own, you could feel his hands working at your panties, sliding them off your legs and leaving you completely bare. Then you heard the clanking noise of a belt coming undone, as he unmistakably rid himself of his pants and boxers.

Then he was parting from your mouth, focus turned down to where the centers of your bodies met together. Your mouth fell open at the sight of… him. All seven-and-a-half inches, long shaft curving upward in arousal and precum leaking out of the pretty red tip. A single vein ran down the side, bulging from his unchecked want.

“Need you to be nice and loud for me, yeah?” He growled in that low tone of his, as he guided himself near your entrance. “Let the entire school know who you belong to— scream my name, bitch, and tell everyone who fucking owns you.”

His words jumbled around inside of your mind, making you feel lightheaded as he slowly began to slide into you. You widened your legs a little bit for him, wrapping them around his waist as he quickly bottomed out. The stretch was only slight and left you hissing with relief when he was fit into you at the hilt.

Without any warning, he was sliding out almost completely, before thrusting back in, hitting into you so roughly, that your spine jammed into the wooden bookshelf at your back. And just like that, he was setting a hellish pace. One that was sure to make you crumble before him — fall apart at the seams.

“Mhm— fuck!” You screamed out in a guttural voice, throwing your head back against the bookshelf desperately as his hips snapped against yours feverishly. You were gripping onto his shoulders so hard, running your nails down his back, that you were sure you’d leave red marks later. “Holy shit- feels so good!”

One of Hyunjin’s hands traveled away from your waist, long, nimble fingers digging into your scalp, yanking at the hair there. “Louder, bitch— take it all like the filthy slut that you are.” He shouted, voice coming out raspy as he pounded into you roughly.

In the very back of your mind, you distinctly heard the pitter-patter of rainfall against the nearby windowpane mixing in with the sounds of the two of you — skin slapping against skin and wetness squelching. It was straight out of a porno and made your head swim with so many dirty thoughts. Breath catching in the center of your throat, you found your lips opening up and releasing a blood-curdling cry of pleasure.

Your noises of ecstasy seemed to compel Hyunjin forward with drive, as he rutted into you in a manic kind of way, thumb tracing figure-eight symbols into your inflamed clit. Almost like, if he didn’t get it out of his system, he’d never be able to live afterward — wouldn’t be able to breathe or think or speak. The tip of him hit up into that warm spot inside of you, and you clenched a little harder around this throbbing cock every time he teased you right there.

“Fuck— I can’t… I’m gonna…” You groaned out loudly. Your eyes flittered into the back of your skull from the way that he pulled at your hair at the same time that he fucked up into you.

Hyunjin grunted out lowly, hips snapping against yours with each thrust. “J—Just a little farther, doll face…” From the way that his domineering tone was slipping away, you could tell that he was also creeping near the edge of release.

You could feel the slip and slide between your legs, your essence coating every surface of your inner thighs and making everything feel silky and smooth. The intensity of his movements slowed down somewhat, the frenzy of his rocking leveling out as he chased your guys’ highs.

“Yes… right there!” You mewled out breathlessly just as the tip of him hit so far into you, that entire galaxies were cast against the expanse of your closed eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire — the flush creeping down the column of your purple-marked neck and into the depths of your soul as he continued to circle your bundle of nerves.

Walls clenching around his cock that was buried deep inside of your warmth, you could feel the moment Hyunjin found that blissful space of his release. “I’m gonna come— fuck—” He rasped out, his voice on the quiet side as he lost all semblance of control.

Hips stuttering against yours, he made to pull out of you completely. But you found yourself shaking your head, eyes shooting open, and giving him a serious frown. “N—No… want you to… come inside…” Your head was empty of all thoughts, as you could do nothing more but focus on the way that he felt so close to you - so far deep inside.

At that, Hyunjin was offering you a tiny, satisfied grin. Then he was seizing up inside of you, cock stretching against your walls as he met his high. It overtook his entire system, overruling all other obstacles and forcing his head backward in pure, orgasmic bliss. The prettiest sounds fell from his plump, crimson, kiss-swollen lips, as he let himself slip down the cliff with ease.

The feeling of his release painting your walls in warm whiteness caused your entire body to convulse with pleasure, as you finally found your high. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before… perfect and whole and so fucking hot. Bursts of rose and topaz and turquoise splashed across the inner workings of your mind, as your insides fluttered around Hyunjin’s cock that fit perfectly between your legs.

“Holy shit, that was…” You said breathlessly after you had begun to come down from your high. Cracking your eyes open you noticed the darkness still there in Hyunjin’s gaze, and the way that his eyes slit shut with want. The sound of the rain outside lulled your mind into a perfect state of peaceful limbo. “What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow his way in question. “What is it?”

He shrugged slowly, eyes coming away from your connected middles and locking with yours. “Nothing, just… I can’t fucking believe you just let me cum inside of you— with no protection.”

You could feel his cock softening inside of you, and finally, your legs stopped shaking around his waist. “Why? You don’t like the idea of that?” Beginning to pull away from him, you tried to yank as far away from his cock as you could. “If you didn’t like it, you should’ve—”

Hyunjin’s mouth was coming onto you in the next beat, capturing your lips up into a heated kiss, stealing the labored breath right from your lungs and sucking on your puffy bottom lip. “Just shut the fuck up, alright. I fucking loved it… it was so hot— you’re so hot. Makes me wanna come in you every single day.” You could feel him move between your legs then, as he began to fuck his seed back into your aching walls. In the back of your mind, you could feel his hand lazily working at you, pushing a single digit back into your entrance between his cock, thrusting in the cum that was splattered across your thighs.

Groaning out softly at his words, you placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed a little bit so that you could get a look at his face again. It was filled with so much lust and want and adoration, the sight of it all almost overwhelmed you entirely. “Well, I suppose I could allow that…” Your voice trailed off, as you dragged a single finger up the center of his chest and towards the sharp line of his jaw. “If it’s with you— then yeah, you can fuck me raw every day.”

Hyunjin let out a low noise, which sounded like a mix between a moan and a cry for help. “But we can’t, baby doll— it wouldn’t be smart and I’d never want to put you in any kind of uncomfortable position.”

You found yourself shrugging off his concerns nonchalantly, as you drove your hips a little forward, meeting his shallow strokes. You loved the feeling there, of wetness and silky essence. “Yeah, but… the good thing is, at least we’d know who the father is.”

At that, he was flashing you a wicked smirk, pearly white glinting against puffy, red lips. His tiny smile was the last thing you saw before he was tipping into you and fitting his mouth around yours again. “Oh, you devilish little minx… I think I’ll keep you for a very long time.”

In the back of your mind, you could feel him moving against you, cock already stiffening again just from your words and insinuations alone. But at that moment, you weren’t too worried about what he planned to do with you for the rest of the night. Because right then, all you wanted to focus on was his face, and the way he let you ring your arms around his neck, pulling at the hair at his nape as he pressed kiss after impassioned kiss to your mouth.

It turns out that your roommate Felix had been right after all. In the end, working with Hwang Hyunjin hadn’t been that horrible.

It had been quite… nice.

Despite all of the bickering and shouting.

After a while, the rough bumps and edges of your rocky relationship seemed to mellow out between the tall bookshelves of the library. And before you knew it- he had you completely bending at his will — practically groveling at his feet for his love, attention, and care.

In the end, you supposed that that’s what you had always wanted from each other, and that’s why you had been so horrible to one another. If you couldn’t garner each other’s attention with regular conversations and friendship, the next best thing was to be rivals in your academics and throw insults at every opportunity you were offered.

But the thing about trying to hate Hwang Hyunjin — trying to hate such a smart, caring, passionate man — is that eventually, one’s willpower always breaks down, and they’re left in a pile of mess and limbs as they search out his affection.

Fin.

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aryxchse · 24 days

Text

school president and the troublemaker. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n ; hello ya'll it's ya fav daughter of hera writer, this fic is written while i listened to my 'old bts songs' playlist, you know i'm talkin' about you just one day!!!

warnings : cursing, teenagers (that's should be a warning), this is writed by according to my countries school rules so deal with it, also grover, y/n, annabeth and percy are my favorite gang fr, rival-ish friends to lovers??, percy beating the shit out of some guy, mentions of staring, blood, no kiss on the lips ugh

"i fucking hate mondays," the son of poseidon whined, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning his head on them.

the first two class was history, which it didn't made anything better for him. he was a math guy, he didn't liked reading and stuff. but you and annabeth seemed to really enjoy it, even though annabeth is literally dislexic while your adhd was messing with your head.

grover sighed in front of him, leaning his head back until it rested on percy's desk. "i know right?" he said, fixing his green beanie. annabeth and you sighed, rolling your eyes at the two lazy boys.

"oh please, today's class is about mythology. i'm going to fuck that bitch up," annabeth said, smiling at you. you smiled back, knowing how much she hated your history teacher.

"you're fucking every teacher beth." percy yawned next to you, looking at the blonde girl. "they all hate you at this point for real."

"don't care," annabeth shrugged, looking like she was proud of herself. which she was. "they should educate people with truth, not a fucking lie."

"speak louder queen!" you agreed with her, while taking notes to your clipboard. there was a lot of shit going on in this big ass school, and you didn't know why you wanted to be a president of it this much.

at the beginning of the year, percy told you that you shouldn't get ahead of yourself—meaning that you guys can get expelled any day. but it never happened, it was yours second year in this school. three demigod's and one satyr, in the same school for two years. they should write and teach this in history too!

you had a way of talking out of problems, so whenever you four caused a trouble, everyone acted like nothing happened because of the mist. you controlled it in some type of way, because you wanted to be a president of some school before you become an adult.

back to now, percy peeked from your shoulder to see what you were writing on the clipboard.

— TO DO LIST —

visit the art, music and sport club to see if they need anything ✓

send the principal the needs of the clubs ✓

hang the new concert posters to schools board ✓

check if the p.e class needs anything

meeting with the other members at 13.00, lunch break

take the list of needed books in the library and hand the list to principal ✓

help the teachers or principal with the paperwork or sending them to where they should go ✓ (done for today)

you tapped your pen on the clipboard, focusing on the tasks you haven't done yet. percy sighed next to you, getting overwhelmed with how much work you had.

percy and annabeth was in the president club thingy with you, annabeth was the leader of the library club while percy was the sport clubs. they handed you the lists you writed on your clipboard. percy joined you to skip some classes and spend some time with you while annabeth just liked to be in charge.

"i didn't know we had a meeting today," percy whispered to you as the bitchy history teacher came into class. you rolled your eyes at the boy, putting the clipboard away to open your history notebook.

"i literally texted it in our groupchat. but you decided to ignore it and write 'what are we doing after school tomorrow?'" you reminded him. percy was about to answer you, but the teacher started yelling.

"alright kids, today we're learning about the twelve olympians and their wars!"

the four of you tried your hardest to not laugh, instead sharing side-eyes.

"man, for the first time this class will be fun," percy said, resting his cheek on his palm.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

the class was indeed fun.

annabeth had so much fun fixing the teacher's every mistake while the rest of you tried not to laugh. but you took notes anyway. you wrote the notes in ancient greek for the gang to copy from you, since they had dislexia and couldn't read.

"you're the best," annabeth said, kissing your cheek as you handed her the notes. you smiled, blowing a kiss to her way as a response. grover sat next to annabeth while eating a vegan sandwich, and percy was trying to get a drink from the machine.

"ya'll have any more cents?" percy asked, angry at the machine. you sighed and stood up, giving a good kick to the machine. it started working again, dropping percy's blue coke with some snacks. you smiled at him, flipping your hair while you returned to your seat.

"like i didn't know how to do that," he murmured, taking his drink with his now free snacks. he gave the chips to annabeth while handing the m&m's to you. he took the fish cracker to himself, holding it in his mouth to open his coke.

there was this little table at the end of the corridor, right next to the food machine. it was you guys usual spot, and everyone knew it. except the lunch times at the cafeteria, you four always hanged around here.

annabeth rested her back against the wall, laying her feet on top of grover's lap. the satyr didn't mind, since they usually sit like that. your seat was in front of annabeth, as you rested your head against your palm, taking a support from the wall. percy leaned against you, putting his whole weight on you while he eated the fish crackers messily.

you paid no attention to him as you wrote something on your clipboard again. "did we have anything missing in p.e class? like some new basketball's?"

annabeth looked up as she thinked for a moment. "the new one we got apperantly blowed up, at least that's what james told me." you groaned, smashing your head -gently- to the table. "i fucking hate basketball team."

"same," grover said, eating percy's now empty diet coke. "they're like hydra's."

percy laughed at that, making a fist bump with grover.

"when was the meeting again?" grover asked after the laugh session with percy. you groaned again, head still on the table. "read the fucking group chat for gods' sake!"

"man, chill." grover raised his hands in defeat. annabeth closed her own notebook while handing you yours. "thanks babe." she said, patting your head gently. you only made thumbs up to her, leaving the notebook on the table.

percy sighed and sat straight, putting your notebook in your bag. he held you by the waist and made you lean to his shoulder, taking your clipboard away from you. "you've already done almost everything here, the others are useless." he said, voice soft.

you hugged percy's arm to support yourself and annabeth slightly smiled to herself. as your chin rested on top of his shoulder, you looked at the clipboard. "i know but the p.e class is worst than everything i did there, it's so tiring."

"i can help you, you know." he said, putting the clipboard on the table and looking at you. you pulled yourself away to look in his eyes. how those ocean eyes can held so much care in them?

"but you hate checking p.e class," you said quietly, hands still lazily on his bicep. he smirked, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"if it's going to make you shut up, then i'll be glad to help." he teased, and you can see it in his expression. you only rolled your eyes, smile betraying your fake annoyance.

"wow, what a nice man you are percy jackson." you complimented, patting his bicep. he flexed them while he gave you a cocky look. "i know pretty."

"i'm gonna throw up," annabeth said, still smiling. grover nodded, gagging playfully. you both sticked your tongue out to them, chuckling.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"that's it, i'm not fucking letting you help me through the p.e class check again." you hissed, making percy sit on the infirmary bed.

he fucking had a fight. apperantly some guy from the soccer team checked you out in that pretty school skirt of yours, and percy noticed it. you didn't know why he was this protective or annoyed when it camed to other guys, but now you had to deal with his bloody lip and eyebrow.

"he was fucking you with his eyes, what i was gonna do? give him a view?" he snapped back, his normally sweet shade of sea green eyes now as dark as a storm. you hated when percy looked at you like this. his hatred was easier to see. it wasn't towards to you, it's never towards to you. but you can't help but feel like you're being attacked too.

"nothing, percy. nothing!" you said, your own eyebrows furrowed. no one was in the infirmary because the school sucked at being responsible. you made sure to point this to principal too.

luckily, your best friend was a demigod, who can heal with water. but unluckily for you, there was no water near. so, you had to caress his wounds like the old ways. still, he healed much faster than a mortal could.

the moment alcoholed cotten touched his lip, he hissed. "what the fuck you mean nothing?" he said, but his voice wasn't loud. "you- you had a crush on him or something?" the last sentence camed out his lip weak.

you rolled your eyes at the boy, who's now had a worried expression on his face. you couldn't understand why, but he looked like he could cry if you touched him. "don't tell me you have a crush on that fucking asshole. you can't be serious, i mean- have you seen hi-"

"percy shut up for gods' sake!" you yelled and he jumped. it made you feel a bit bad, but he was not making any sense. you stopped wiping the blood and cleaning the wound on his lip, now starting to put some bandages on it.

"i don't have a crush on the guy, i don't even know who he is." you explained, now wiping his eyebrow. he didn't flinched on this one, instead he was focused on you. "but you can't just attack people just because they're looking at me."

"he wasn't looking, y/n/n. he was literally-"

"fucking me with his eyes, i know." you shushed him gently with your words, your eyes holding too much care in them. weren't you questioning his eyes back then?

you were standing in between percy's legs, and you both were face to face, even though he was sitting. his expression was soft once again, and his eyes shined like always. you held his chin gently while carefuly treating the wound. "but he didn't dared to do anything, did he?"

"i would like to see him fucking try." he hissed.

"believe me, he wouldn't." you assured him, now bandaging him once again. he had a confused look on his face, but one side of him telled him you were right. "those guys like that can do nothing but stare."

there was a silence between you two now. percy kept sitting on the bed while you put away the first aid kit. after that you camed back to your previous place in between percy's legs, hands resting on his thigh.

he gently held your wrists in return, thumbs caressing the place gently. the boy was in the other infirmary in school, since they didn't want to put him in the same place as percy. you wondered how was the boy, because percy was literally about to kill him.

"how am i gonna get a boyfriend if you keep attacking the boys around me?" you joked, and for the first time, percy didn't laughed. he still looked down on your now intertwined hands, looking like he was in some kind of a trance.

you didn't want a boyfriend anyways, you wanted percy. the joke was to lighten the mood, but to also see his reaction. you we're having suspicions or delusions lately, about him liking you back. and you wanted to get a real answer for yourself.

luckily for you, percy was about to give you one.

"i don't want you to have a boyfriend, to be honest." he whispered, his forehead resting on your shoulder. your cheek -you didn't know why- immediatly found it's place on his head, smelling the salt water scent he had.

"why? you wanna keep me to yourself?" you chuckled, asking what you wanted to ask for a long time in a jokeful way.

"yeah, actually." he said.

you frozed. you wanted to keep your actions as warm as possible for him to not think you would ever reject him. you did wanted to get some real answers, but not stomach flipping, toe curling and cheek blushing one like this. your heart beated so fast that you thought you we're having a heart attack, and your breath hitched.

"what?" you managed to ask softly, and your voice felt like an angel to his ears.

"i'm sorry i-" he choked in his own words, afraid to face you. he still kept his head on your shoulder, in fact; he nuzzled into your neck a bit. "i don't want to ruin our friendship, but... in some way i do."

you chuckled, and he felt like the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"i kinda want that too," you whispered back, hands now caressing his bicep. his hands find their way onto your waist, holding you firmly close to himself. his heart was about to pop out from his body and met with yours, just chilling inside your body instead of his. weird way to express what he was feeling, but percy was never good with words anyway.

"yeah?" he breathed out, his smile can be heard from his voice. your own smile matched his, so bright that sun would be jealous. "since when?"

"oh man, i don't want to answer this." you joked, and he laughed. that's the react you've been waiting for. "you'd think i'm obsessed with you."

he raised his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes shining as bright as the sky now. you loved how his emotions reflected in his eyes, making him not be able to hide anything. you knew him better than anyone else anyways, he was always an open book to you.

"oh please, i don't have the right to judge you when i'm this whipped." he said, making you laugh. "we're we even friends this whole time?"

you laughed harder. "you know what? i think the fuck not." you answered through giggles. "we we're just two idiots who pretended to be friends."

as you both laughed there, to your whole situation, percy hugged you tight. an air escaped your lips in suprise, but you were quick to hug him back.

"you don't have any idea how relieved i am right now," he mumbled to your neck, leaving a few light kisses there. your hands caressed his raven hair, massaging the scalp. "i love you, so fuckin' much."

"i love you too, seaweed brain." you said back quietly, kissing on top of his head.

he was about to kiss you on the lips when annabeth and grover barged in.

"finally you idiots!" annabeth said, crossing her arms and resting her back on the door frame. grover put his arm on her shoulder, smirking.

"it's about fucking time, eh?"

#haha #what is this #can u say the end is rushed??#i didn't know where to make them confess #i just want some k drama type of shit with my bae percy #percy jackson #percy x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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mins-fins · 1 month

Text

orbit of yours !

"power couple, really?" "you have to listen to me!"

synopsis: park jisung has always admired you. hardworking, effortlessly beautiful, talented, humble— you're pretty much the personification of the word 'perfect' (you would disagree though), but your relationship has never gotten past "admirers that occasionally exchange words", so jisung has vanquished the idea of possibly being in love with you because of your lack of interactions, he's just an avid admirer of yours! so when a few accidents and mishaps force (more like drive) the two of you to be in the same room more than you ever had in the past, the idea doesn't just remain a random fantasy crafted by jisung's mind, it becomes reality.

pairing: park jisung x male!reader

genre: high school au, acquaintances to friends to lovers, photographer!reader x soccer player!jisung, fluff, kinda comedy (im not funny), mutual pining, literally no angst, fast burn lowkey, sungchan helps reader realize his feelings and it's hilarious

warnings: swearing, mentions of burnout, oblivious bitches deny their feelings for a good 10k words, this is fucking cheesy, the nightmare which is senior year

word count: 12.2k

notes: GOOD LORD IT IS FINALLY DONE! i don't wanna be overdramatic or anything but this is genuinely one of my most favorite works ever, if you couldn't tell i am VERY jisung biased and im so happy to finally be done with this because it's honestly been so fun to write 🙁 i didn't beat the xiaojun fic in terms of words but this the second longest fic i have ever written and for my jisung debut its impressive that there is absolutely NO ANGST here, i'm just very proud of myself for this and i hope people like reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.. this is for all the park jisung lovers 👍

"WHEN WILL YOU ACTUALLY GET A PARTNER?" chenle asks the question so many times that jisung assumes the sentence has been programmed into his brain. what is it— like the 3rd time this week? he thinks chenle might be more obsessed with his love life than he is with actual important things, like college, graduation preparations, his role as a member of the student council, anything but jisung's uneventful love life, because that was probably the least interesting thing going on in his own life at the moment. "come on jisungie! i heard aejung has a crush on you!" he lets out a familiar groan, giving his friends a 'cut it out' look. "i don't really care about that kind of stuff.."

he hears all the frustrated sighs from his friends, and jisung just chuckles. he knows about the many surprisingly many— people who find themselves attracted to him. he acknowledges the fact that he has a lot of admirers, that a lot of people would perceive themselves as lucky to be in a relationship with him, he isn't new to the idea at all, he doesn't really get what makes him so attractive, such an eyeopener to his fellow students, but he mostly accepts the gifts given to him by his so called "admirers" nonetheless, not wanting to make them disappointed.

now, he says mostly because there are just times where he has no choice but to turn them down. some people get into their own heads too much, and he doesn't want to give some of them false hopes by accepting their gifts. that happened once, where a girl thought the two of them were dating because he decided to accept her gift as a sign of appreciation, that's when jisung learned that he couldn't just accept any and all gifts given to him by admirers who so greatly wanted a chance with him. jisung isn't so concerned about gifts, he wants a person who will be psychically and emotionally present for him, not someone who'll just buy him random things.

"it's gotten a little annoying.. all the confessions" jisung mutters, closing the textbook he had been jotting in. "they're nice yeah but some people just take it too far" he finally finishes, earning some confused looks from his friends. he just shrugs, shoving the textbook he had previously been jotting in into his backpack.

"but you're just so boring!" chenle whines, pressing his cheek against jisung's shoulder. jisung doesn't even try shaking him off, knowing that any of his attempts will be useless. "come on! all these people who would love to be with you and your still a lonely little loser!"

"loser? oh come on!"

"you know i'm right!"

jisung scoffs, lightly shoving chenle. while yeah, it's nice to have a lot of people admire him, everyone expects him to do this and that and act a certain way. it's like they enjoy perpetuating a false image onto him rather than actually admiring him for who he really is, and jisung doesn't think he should give people like that the time of day, they piss him off more than anything.

he's a little lost in his thought when a familiar voice sounds in his ears, a couple of giggles following the sound. "you're too funny y/n!" one of them shouted, poking a familiar figure in the shoulder, and jisung's eyes fall on you immediately, as if on instinct. you were looking as you always did, a familiar dslr camera hanging from your neck, that polite smile on your face as your friend continues poking your shoulder.

lately, you'd been quite the topic of interest among your fellow schoolmates. now that's not abnormal at all, you somehow always manage to be the talk of the town in school, you could do the smallest thing and somehow people could still make huge talk about it.

jisung would never say it, not out loud or even in mutters to himself, but he's always held a unique admiration for you, one he doesn't think he could actually put into words. there's something about you that pulls jisung in, like your a magnet and he's an oblivious piece of metal, slowly getting closer and closer to you without being able to do anything about it.

everything about you is beautiful. your eyes are a beautiful brown color, your smile is a beautiful stretch that shows off your perfect white teeth, your hair is a beautiful mix of raven and brunette. oh, and your voice is so beautiful too, it's so soft, gentle, but also deep.

you're like an angel.

at least to jisung you are.

it's pretty funny, actually, your so wrapped up in your own things that you barely notice the sheer amount of people who want to date you. you don't acknowledge romantic advances a lot, and even when you do, it always ends in rejection. you talk a lot, and your words are always pure and witty, your laughter is natural, your smile is contagious.

but.. jisung doesn't like you. he only likes you in the friend kinda way, he just wants to be friends with you. you look nice! smell nice, dress nice, speak nice..

jisung knows a lot more about you than his friends do. despite the fact that the two of you have never officially deemed yourselves "friends", he's always known little facts about you, as you him. the two of you have been going to school together for seven years, so the idea of not knowing anything about each other seems ridiculous.

you're a photographer, your favorite color is blue, specifically lighter shades, your favorite subject is history, your lucky number is 2 because of your birthdate being 02/02/02, your favorite flowers are daisies, you don't really enjoy sports, but if you were to choose one to play, it'd be baseball, and you want to go to college for journalism.

but jisung can't say that he likes you, because even if you two know all these things about each other, you've never considered yourselves "friends", all you do is admire from afar—

and when you do interact, it's just short and sweet sentences exchanged between you two, mostly because the both of you are so busy, that you can't afford to just stop and talk. sometimes, jisung wishes his life was just a little less hectic and he could stop and talk to you, because that's what he wants to do.

"what's with you?" jisung immediately yelps as chenle flicks his forehead, and he resists the urge to punch the older in the face. "gawking at y/n? really?"

"i'm not—" jisung hates that he feels his face burn. "i'm not gawking, i'm just.. i was just looking at him".

"looking at him with hearts in your eyes".

jisung scoffs at chenle's audacity, as if he wasn't doing exactly that a good few minutes ago. he would never admit it out loud before, so why should he admit it now? he'd never live it down if anybody ever found out..

"you know.." chenle begins, tapping his finger onto the desk in front of him. "you two would be a great couple" and the words are enough to make jisung roll his eyes once again. "a power couple!"

"power couple, really?" jisung raises an eyebrow, chenle never fails to say something that confuses him. he finds the words to be ridiculous, but his reaction just seems to make chenle even more giddy, because he continues;

"you have to listen to me!" chenle persists, and jisung is about to check out of the conversation completely.

"y/n is a photographer for sports journalism, you play soccer, you've known each for what.. ever? he's pretty, you clearly have the hots for him—"

"i do not!" jisung immediately yells in rebuttal, much louder than he wanted to. "yeah he's.. cute but anyone with eyes can see that, i'm not in love with him or anything".

chenle raises an eyebrow, suspicious, but jisung remains stubborn, crossing his arms as he averts his gaze from his best friend.

yes, you are cute, anybody with two functioning eyes can see that.

"i think park jisung might have a crush on you".

at the words, you look up from your camera, meeting eyes with your close friend, sungchan. you blink, as if dumbfounded, then snicker. "park jisung? are you trying to boost my ego or something?"

you know park jisung, you know about how probably half the students in this room dream of having a chance with him. so many people like park jisung, so many people want park jisung.

and if you think about it, you can't exactly blame them for that..

"don't laugh! i'm serious! he looked like he was about to devour you, did you see his eyes!?"

the words just get another laugh out of you, the words seem ridiculous in your eyes, because why would park jisung, beautiful, talented, striking park jisung have a crush on you? in your eyes, your pretty much nothing to him.

"okay.. why would park jisung ever be interested in me?" you ask, rearranging your camera as you raise an eyebrow at sungchan, who simply deadpans at you, that familiar 'are you serious?' look in his eyes.

"okay let me see, your smart, pretty, everyone likes you at this point, also— the two of you are pretty much perfect for each other! you'd be a power couple!"

you furrow your eyebrows, a power couple? you'd never heard that phrase used to talk about somebody your friends had been "shipping" you with, your not even sure if you can even consider yourself friends with jisung, because the two of you can never actually talk to each other without someone coming up and interrupting the interaction.

you'd love to just be able to talk to park jisung, just the two of you, one on one.

"power couple? that's funny.."

"you think everything is funny" ironically, you laugh at your friends words. "this could be like— your only chance at having an actual romantic connection with someone".

"i don't care that much about romance, chan" you muse, humming as you turn off your camera. your eyes wander over to jisung, who is very much distracted by something stupid chenle is saying, he's laughing about something, laughing hard too.

there is no reason for him to look so pretty as he laughs like a maniac..

he's cute, you say in your mind, he is absolutely adorable.

"WHAT DID YOU GUYS GET ON THAT STATISTICS TEST FOR SONG?" a boy from the same year and member of the soccer team along with jisung inquired. they sat on the bleachers in front of field, watching as the baton club practices. they have to practice this week, unfortunately, so jisung's schedule had become tight and packed, he barely had any free time these days, it was all exams, college tours, last minute extracurriculars, and practice, practice, practice. "i got a b plus" one of his classmates responds, the other responded; "i got a b on mine". jisung was very far removed from the current conversation, his eyes on a familiar trio of sports journalists on the other side of the field, a trio which included you, mesmerizing you. he sees you often these days, with that same dslr camera around your neck, a pretty smile stuck on your face.

"you, jisung! what score did you get?" one of his classmates asks, but jisung was occupied, so he didn't answer. a tap on his shoulder makes jisung snap out of his staring fit, and he blinks a few times, assessing where he is. "what?"

"we were asking about the marks on the recent statistics test!"

"ah" jisung presses his lips together. "i got an a plus" he says the words casually, but it causes for a cheer to be sounded by his fellow classmates, who shook him and slapped his back supportively.

"you're so smart jisungie!"

the praise from his classmates get a smile out of jisung, but he isn't focusing on that, his attention is on you. even with how your across the field, he can clearly see all of your features, the sun shining on your face makes you look majestic, like an actual angel, jisung isn't sure why he's even focusing so much on your face, but he can't focus on anything else, because his eyes just naturally always wander over to you.

"will this ever finish?" you inquire, pertaining to the baton club, who were still on the field even after they were supposed to get off. "i'm supposed to take photos of the soccer players for my editorials.." you mutter, it'd be horrible if you couldn't even deliver on the promise you made to your superiors.

"they're probably going to split the field" your fellow sports journalist, taehyun says. a small groan escapes your lips, you're annoyed, you hope this doesn't interfere with the photos you have to take, it'd be horrible if you just ended up doing the same thing all over again. "see? baton club is taking one side and the soccer team takes the main area because they need to start practicing now".

"they look so cute! i've always wanted to be apart of the soccer team!" lee sohee exclaims, and you turn towards him, a look of interest on your face. he attentively watches the boys, humming to the song that's playing. "why didn't you join them then?" you inquire, interest peaked.

sohee smiles at you, readjusting his camera and fixing his posture. "i enjoyed writing the editorial articles more" he shrugs. "wanted to try out but i missed the tryouts because eunseok hyung would have killed me if i missed anton's recital" at the words, you laugh, used to the behavior from the older boy.

"maybe next year".

"you'd fit in perfectly!" taehyun muses, and sohee brightens up, seemingly loving the words.

"really!? that's what seunghan tells me too!" he cheers at the words, looking proud of himself. "i'd look cute in that uniform though.."

you chuckle at sohee's word, finding him to be absolutely adorable. "yeah, you definitely would" you ruffle his hair, smiling at the giggle which sounds from the boy.

"i'm gonna go get a closer look at them" you say, motioning towards the soccer team. taehyun nods and watches as you get closer to the field, not super close, but close enough that your camera can capture a good view of the soccer team. you narrow your eyes, pointing your camera at the busy boys who are doing their usual routine, the viewfinder shows jisung in all his glory.

you take pictures, zooming in and out. you don't mean to put all the focus on jisung, he's just too alluring to not be the center of attention. he's such a natural, he's just so amazing, you can't not focus on him.

[click.]

and another shot, another one as jisung scores the goal. jisung's posture was perfect, his back straight, chin high as he wore an angelic smile. jisung hears the clicking of the camera, and looks to his left to see you, in the viewfinder you see jisung looking in your direction, you pause for a moment and notice a baton heading straight towards him.

"jisung watch out!" you yell, at the words, he tilts his head.

you quickly take the strap of the camera off your neck, throwing it until it landed right beside your fellow journalists, who looked as confused as jisung did. you ran as fast as you could, grabbing jisung's wrist and pulling him close to you.

the baton managed to hit the ground instead, and jisung shrieks as he loses his balance, toppling forward. he quickly grabs onto the closest thing to him.

you.

you lowered your arms to catch jisung, and you feel him hold onto the sleeves of your blazer, one of your arms on his stomach, the other on his waist. all his weight was in your arms, causing for you to lose balance too.

"shit—" you swear, falling onto your back. jisung fell on top of you, the grass tickling his skin. your back immediately hits the grass, and your head hits the ground softly, but your arms remain around jisung. jisung's hands were still on your arms, his upper body laid on top of yours, his head was buried into your shoulder, and he was sat in between your legs.

jisung takes a sharp breath, a look of worry quickly flashes in his eyes as he sees you. "holy shit y/n are you okay!?" jisung asks, pulling away from your prior position and you sit up, opening your eyes to meet his worried ones. jisung kneels, leaning closer to you as he cups your cheeks with his hands. "did you get hurt? is your head okay!?" he asks, or yells, turning your head to inspect for any signs of wounds. you just stare at him, his bangs that messily lay against his forehead, his eyes that glimmered under the sunlight, and his pink lips that you totally just want to lean over and touch with your own.

"yeah.." you whisper, your cheeks squished from the force of jisung's hands.

jisung stops turning your head and sighs. "are you sure?" he asks, still holding your face. you nod, placing one of your hands on jisung's, his are soft, yours are rough, you note. you move his hand and smile. "i'm alright don't worry" you respond, still holding jisung's hand. jisung pursues his lips, and he extends his hand out, pulling you up from the ground. you let go of his hand, dusting off your pants.

"jesus y/n" taehyun's voice sounds from behind you, and you finally glance away from jisung, eyes focused on your friend. "are you okay? your not injured are you?"

"i'm fine.." you mumble again, blinking as taehyun suddenly hands you your camera. ah, he'd picked it up for you. you take it, inspecting it to make sure it's not broken.

"is the camera okay?" jisung inquires, looking over your shoulder to stare at it.

luckily, it wasn't damaged because it had fallen on the soft grass. "it's still working" you respond, and the two boys beside you let out a sigh of relief, with taehyun placing a hand on his chest.

"jisung! come back here!" his coach quickly yells, jisung looks to you, then back to his teammates. "thanks, i owe you" he says before running back towards his group, fetching the soccer ball he'd left on the ground prior.

"wow your like a hero!" sohee exclaims, shaking your shoulder with a smile. you just let out a nervous laugh, scratching your arm. you give one last glance at jisung before you feel your face heat up excessively, so you quickly turn away, putting your camera back around your neck.

"we should go back in now" you say, you don't say any more words as you quickly make your way towards the doors. your friends blink, exchanging glances in confusion, but they quickly follow you back inside.

"y/n! wait up!"

jisung watches you three leave, feeling his heart racing against his chest.

what the hell just happened? he asks himself.

"jisung are you okay!?" a very familiar voice shrieks. jisung turns to meet his fellow teammate jooyeon, looking concerned as ever.

"i'm alright, thanks for asking" he answers, gaze lowering down to his nails, which he quickly starts picking.

"are you sure? you looked like you hit your head pretty hard" the younger boy, as always, just wants to make sure jisung isn't lying, he's genuine like that. he pokes jisung's forehead, as if he was inspecting him.

"seriously, i'm fine" jisung lowers his hand, giving him his default 'i'm okay' smile. "y/n cushioned the blow anyway.."

"you were so close to him!" jisung startles as keum donghyun comes out of nowhere. "how did it feel? was it like a dream come true?"

"i—" jisung is speechless, he closes his mouth and blinks a good seven times before even actually assessing the question.

how did it feel?

jisung doesn't know how to express it. he didn't want to think about it in that way because you'd just done such a good deed, you saved him from flying metal going straight towards his head, he shouldn't have been thinking about the lack of distance between you two, he shouldn't have been staring at your lips, and he shouldn't have been thinking about kissing you.

his face must be so unbearably red right now.

"don't ask that! it was just very abrupt.. also, i can't think of him like that! he saved me from a flying baton, i'm just grateful for him".

jooyeon hums in agreement, slapping donghyun's shoulder for him ever asking such a thing. "that's right, you should probably get him a token of appreciation or something".

jisung blinks, trying to imagine what he should ever gift you. he truly has no idea, he's not sure if he should go over and beyond, or just give you a little gift as to not intimidate you. "i can't really think of anything, i don't want to overwhelm him or something, he just wanted to do a nice thing.."

"i'm sure he'll be appreciative of anything!"

at the words, jisung just sighs, smiling.

what a hero, l/n y/n— you really are something, he thinks.

"yeah— i'll think about it".

"good! back to practice now!"

jisung doesn't think he will ever fully be able to focus on practice, though.

"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE BEEN RAN OVER BY A TRAIN" the words from the older boy, yang jeongin, snap you out of your polaroid staring daze. you flinch just the slightest, eyes peeling away from the scattering pictures which litter your desk. you rub your eyes, clearing your throat as you quickly gather all of the photos on your desk, hoping the eye bags present on your face weren't completely obvious. knowing jeongin though, they were definitely obvious. "thanks for the kind words" you respond sarcastically, a small eye roll accompanying your words. the older boy snickers, situating himself beside you, a teasing smile on his face. he props his legs up, blinking at you. "seriously though, you look like you haven't slept in years, are you alright?"

"i'm as alright as someone looking to pursue journalism can be.." you mutter back, placing the photos which were previously on your desk into your backup, a small sigh escapes your lips. "all of my applications are still pending.."

"seriously? i assume you would've been accepted into any of those schools by now!"

"you know how it all goes, they get hundreds— heck, thousands of applications every day, i just have to be patient".

jeongin raises an eyebrow, then just shrugs at you, humming. "there's no need to worry, y/n, you'll get into a good school".

you chuckle at his words, he totally read your mind when it came to that. "i'm not worried about anything" you lie; "i'll be okay, i know".

but do you?

your absolutely tired the whole entire day, you tried your best to focus in your classes, but you couldn't help your head slipping down and the way you almost slipped off to dreamland whilst your teachers were asking you very much audible questions.

"did you sleep last night?" sungchan asks you in the middle of your afternoon break, poking your arm as if to wake up. "you look like a zombie.."

"i slept a few.. hours?" your tone is very much a questioning one, as if you didn't even believe your own words. "i don't know, i was too busy fighting with lin, apparently i'm not good enough at what i do to consider journalism".

paired with the lack of response to your several applications, you weren't having the best week, it was all becoming just a little too much for you.

graduation is just too far away..

"anyway! did you choose the photos you'll put in the editorial yet?"

you think, for a while. you felt as if you had stared at so many polaroids by this point, that they're probably going to start appearing in your dreams, with the lack of sleep, constant flashing of cameras and just news news news, you've really had no time to focus on other things.

"i haven't even found time to think about the editorial" you whine, a weary sigh escaping your lips as you think about how pissed off your higher up is gonna be if you almost miss the deadline once again. "is the deadline coming up?"

"well— is four days a close deadline for you?"

you gasp, loudly, almost throwing your camera across the hallway. "four days!? four days until the deadline seriously!?"

you usually aren't like this. you are usually very calm, cool, and collected, but your week has been just the definition of a shit storm, and everything just seems getting worse and worse.

"hey, it's okay!" sungchan immediately replies, hoping to reassure you. he places a hand on your shoulder, a smile coming to his face. "it's not like this is anything new, it'll all be fine, you only have to choose two pictures anyway".

you sigh, rubbing your temples. "yeah" you breath. "it'll be fine, fine" you repeat, nodding your head as you relax yourself.

the hallway is crowded, not crowded crowded, but crowded enough that you couldn't help but begin counting the heads around you.

your eyes get stuck on a familiar figure across the hall.

park jisung, smiling and laughing with his friends. you get lost in a trance of admiring him, even though you can clearly hear sungchan talking to you. all your attention is immediately on him, and a small smile spreads across your face as you observe him, being himself.

there is absolutely no reason for him to be so breathtaking while just talking with his friend!

you are so distracted, and you don't mean to get stuck in this little reverie as you stare at the boy that you totally do not have a crush on.

he hasn't really left your mind, instead of just floating around in there like he'd been before that whole prior incident, now he occupies a whole subsection of your mind in recent days. you could be with your other friends, and all of a sudden your mind would wander off to jisung, or you could be in class and he just pops into your head.

you never thought you'd be one to get distracted easily, but you've clearly been proven wrong by just the alluring aura of park jisung.

you startle when jisung turns your way, making eye contact with you. he smiles upon noticing you, his eyes practically lighting up, and he waves at you. your a little taken aback, but jisung doesn't wait to see you wave back, just turning back towards his friend and continuing his previous conversation.

"what was that?"

"what was what?"

you quickly look over at sungchan, who had just witnessed that whole entire scene. he looks at you like you just grew a second head, and your face begins to burn as the realization dawns on you.

"you and park jisung!?"

your quick to try and sputter out a response, but you shake your head, face excessively heating up, it's probably red at this very moment. "there is nothing going on between us!"

"that doesn't seem like nothing!"

you realize how guilty you look right now. with your red face and constant insistence that there is absolutely nothing going on, those are traits the guiltiest of people display, and it all just makes you look even more guilty with how your face gets even more red.

(you must look like you're dying right now).

"it's just a friendly exchange!"

"not while your looking at him with hearts in your eyes!"

he was completely calling you out, and he was right. you were staring at jisung like he was an angel that had graced your presence, you stare at him like he's a saint and everyone else doesn't matter, as if he's the only person in the room. "i— i wasn't! i was just zoned out and he just waved at me to say hi!"

sungchan narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, totally not buying it. "uh huh, sure" his voice conveys disbelief. "just know, i'm onto you y/n".

you nudge him in the shoulder, seriously wanting to change the topic. "yeah yeah whatever" you cross your arms as you mutter the words, you're sure if you take one more glance at jisung, you won't be able to look away, so you just clear your throat and walk the other way, face still red as sungchan teases you the whole entire time.

maybe if you glanced back, you'd see jisung watching as you left..

JISUNG WAS REALLY HOPING HE'D BE ABLE TO catch you before school dismissed. you two haven't genuinely had an actual talk since you saved him from the flying baton heading straight towards his head. all you two have done is give smiles, waves, and mutter small greetings to each other in the hallway. he had to admit, it upset him in just the slightest, because he really did want to just have a conversation with you (of course, he isn't exactly sure he'd be able to get through a conversation with you without blushing like a madman anyway), but your schedules just kept conflicting, so even catching a glimpse of you around the campus has become difficult for him to do.

he doesn't want to waste any opportunity he has in his hands—

"y/n!"

when jisung sees you across the hall, he realizes that he shouldn't take this chance for granted. you turn around at the call of your name, smiling as you see the others making his way towards you. jisung runs a hand through his hair, hoping he isn't making anything awkward. "jisung hi, do you need something?"

you smile politely at him, a smile so beautiful it seems like it could get rid of all the problems in the world. jisung loves your smile, he could stare at it for hours, is that creepy? he hopes it's not creepy..

"oh uh—" the words he'd been planning to say somehow get caught in his throat, but he clears his throat and proceeds. "i was wondering if i could walk you home?"

you blink, puzzled by the question. why would he want to walk you home? your mind begins to wander, trying to figure out why he'd want to do such a thing.

can't you just ask y/n? stop being an idiot..

"why?"

you don't mean for your words to come out that way, and you're almost afraid that you made jisung uncomfortable with your tone of voice, but he instead just smiles, squashing any of your bad thoughts. you love jisung's smile, you think it's underrated, so little people talk about it and the fact shocks you, you could probably compliment his smile for hours—

but that sounds just a little creepy.

"i just want to accompany you—" —and this is my only excuse to be around you— "do something nice for you after you did something nice for me".

the words make you pause. he's just.. so thoughtful huh? you've never heard of someone wanting to repay you for being nice, it's actually a little strange if you think about it.

"jisung you don't have to reward me for doing something nice.."

"it'd be great to walk with you, though, you make good company".

that's it? that's really it?

you're not sure why you're surprised about that, maybe it's just the idea that he literally searched for you just to say this, he truly just wants to walk you home, he truly just wants to spend time with you.

he thinks i make good company, just the thought alone is enough to make you giggle in your head. your inner thoughts sound ridiculous, but you can't help them.

"if you don't want me to it's totally oka—"

"no no no" you immediately cut into his sentence, hoping that didn't come off as desperate as it sounded. "i'm glad you offered to walk me home, i'd love to walk with you too".

you unsuccessfully try to mutter those last few words, a sudden shyness taking over you. jisung smiles, glad, no, elated at your agreement. he doesn't know why he's that happy, but he hopes it isn't clear and evident, he'd never live it down.

after bidding a goodbye to your friends, and telling sungchan you'd make sure to choose the photos for your editorials, you dragged jisung out of the school doors, much to your and jisung's surprise, as well as the shock of a few of your classmates, he made sure to eye the both of you suspiciously.

"what interested you in photography?"

a scene like this is something jisung thought he'd never get to, being able to talk to you, one on one. just the two of you sharing a simple conversation is what he's wanted for an uncharted amount of time, even with how straightforward it is, the two of you could never really find time to converse normally.

when jisung asks the question, you almost think you heard him wrong. he genuinely wants to know? in a way, you feel like you've always been just the slightest bit boring, yeah you wanna do journalism and love taking aesthetically pleasing photos but you've never considered what you do to be a talent by any means.

you pick at your fingers, looking down at the ground instead of at jisung. "it's an interest i picked up from my mother, i've always been shocked how she could just do that, you know? i love videography and stuff like that as well, i love how one can capture so much with just a single camera".

your words intrigue jisung, and he listened the whole entire way, not interrupting you once. he found a smile crossing his face at the clear display of passion for your creative work, he loves the way you put it into words. god if he didn't admire you before, he surely did now.

"what about you? you're pretty much good at everything, what drew you to the adrenaline rushing excitement of soccer?"

jisung pauses, allowing himself to let out a small snicker at the question. "i don't really enjoy soccer".

you raise an eyebrow. "oh?"

jisung laughs again, your tone of voice amusing him. "don't say it like that.. it's not that i hate it, i'm just not as into it like everyone expects me to be, i got onto the school team and i've been stuck there ever since" there isn't exactly distaste in jisung's tone, he just states it casually, like how it is. his voice is just simple, mundane, he doesn't dislike soccer, it's just not what he's looking forward to do.

you love his honesty.

"i'm into other things in a much more passionate sense, like dance, soccer is just a hobby" he finally finishes, pulling his sleeves over his arms as he avoids eye contact with you.

"so no professional soccer player park jisung?"

"i think i'll leave it to the other guy to be known for that".

you chuckle at his words, okay, he's funny (you knew that already, you just had to reiterate it in your head). god how can a guy be so perfect? you get why people are so into jisung, he's charming even without trying. you feel like the luckiest guy on earth knowing he asked to walk you home.

"y/n, i'm a very.." jisung pauses, as if trying to articulate the words he was about to say. "i really admire you a lot".

you almost lose it.

park jisung, beautiful, talented, hardworking park jisung admires you? he is an admirer of yours? you don't even know what to say, you try your best to sputter out a response but your brain is practically malfunctioning. your face goes red, and you go silent for a few minutes.

"i don't get it" is what you say, and jisung just cocks his head towards the side, observing you. "what's so admirable about me?"

"do you want a list?"

oh i'd love that. "i don't think you should waste your time".

"i wouldn't be wasting my time" jisung smiles, his gaze focused on you and only you, there's a way he's looking at you that keeps you still, unable to look away from him. "i never get the chance to tell you, i'd love to talk about everything i admire about you".

when did jisung get so bold? he'll never know where this random confidence came from, but he has an opportunity, he can't let it go to waste. he has to bring it up to you.

"what i do is nothing incredible—"

"i would disagree".

you should be angry that jisung interrupted you, but you found yourself smiling at his words. he's so generous, he doesn't have to tell you this, he doesn't have to compliment you like this, but he's doing it on his own accord, he wants to.

"okay then.. is it a good time to tell you that i also feel the same?"

jisung's ears go red, so red that it looks like smoke is gonna start pouring out of them. he is shocked, absolutely speechless. you admire him? does that mean he's gotten it all wrong these past few years? does that mean you return his feelings as well—

wait what?

"oh really?"

the prior confidence jisung had when telling you about his admiration has now all fizzled away, his voice almost cracks as he tries to register your words, and thank god it doesn't.

"it's kind of like what you said, you're amazing, a very admirable person, i know you don't really think of yourself like that but i do, and it's nice to be able to tell you up front".

jisung remains silent, but you don't mind, you just give him a smile and continue walking forward, allowing for him to catch up to you.

"is that actually true?"

"why would i lie to you?" you turn around, your whole body facing him. you begin walking backwards and wait for jisung's reply to your question. "don't give me that look".

jisung frowns, a playful one, he sends you a cute little glare that makes you giggle. he's absolutely adorable, you think in your head, he's the cutest person ever right now.

"you admire me?"

"yep".

"more than i admire you?"

"definitely, and don't even try to argue with me".

jisung opens his mouth to do exactly that, but you stop, turning around as you make it to the front of your house. "okay well, thank you for walking me home, ji".

jisung raises an eyebrow, noting down the nickname in his head. it's a common nickname, but he loves the way it sounds coming from you, he loves that you didn't just drop his full name.

"it's no problem.."

"i—"

you're cut off by the sound of the door opening, and your met with the face of your mother, whose face immediately brightens at the sight of you. you smile at her, and jisung just kinda stands there awkwardly.

"hi honey" she wraps her arms around you, and you let her, leaning your head onto her shoulder. "i thought you were staying late today?"

you shake your head. "not today, it's friday remember?"

"ohhh, yeah".

jisung glances down at the ground, playing with his feet. he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't want to interrupt the conversation you're having with your mother—

but he doesn't have to say anything, because your mother pipes up.

"oh! and who might this be?" she narrows her eyes at jisung, cogs in her brain seem to turn but then she snaps his fingers and gasps, seemingly getting it. "oh my god! park jisung?"

jisung smiles, a little laugh escaping his lips. "that is me".

"holy, you've changed so much? the last time i saw you you were barely up to my knees!"

at the sound of your mothers words, you give jisung a teasing stare, one which he quickly turns away from. "you and y/n are finally friends? i was wondering when it'd happen.."

your face goes bright red at the words, and an awkward chuckle escapes your lips. "seems he was too, he always talked about it—"

"haha! what!? that's hilarious mom!" you quickly cut in, not wanting her to talk about your former ramblings about park jisung, park jisung who was right beside you. "yeah okay, jisung i'll see you monday?"

jisung nods, a little too desperately for his liking, luckily you don't notice. "yeah, monday, have a good weekend, y/n".

you smile, blood rushing through your cheeks. "be safe".

he gives a small wave and turns around, beginning the walk back towards his home.

"he's such a nice kid, you sure you're just friends?"

your jaw pretty much drops, and you give your mother a look you don't think you've ever shared with her before. "yes! just friends!"

"hmm, sure".

"WHO ARE THOSE FOR?" CHENLE asks as he immediately notices the goodies in jisung's hands. he raises an eyebrow suspiciously at his best friend, examining the bouquet of flowers and box jisung held. jisung ignores him for a couple of minutes, placing the box in his locker and closing it behind him. "for someone" he just replies, hoping he could just remain vague instead of telling chenle about his true plans. the older narrows his eyes, clearly curious about this 'someone'. he flicks jisung in the forehead, resulting in a yelp from the other, who glares. "ow! what was that for?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows and rubbing his forehead, a frown now coming to his face.

"what you're hiding stuff from me now?" chenle rolls his eyes at jisung's frown. "who are those flowers for? you got a boyfriend or something?"

chenle was right in assuming it was a boy that was making him go crazy, but you aren't his boyfriend (not yet at least, he's trying, really). he doesn't want to exactly divulge his plans to his nosy best friend yet, just because he'd go around telling everybody he could about what jisung was doing, he didn't want anything to be spoiled.

"they're for.. y/n".

jisung winces the moment he says those words, because chenle goes absolutely crazy.

"FOR WHO!?"

jisung is quick to slap a hand over chenle's mouth, glaring at him for how loud he said those words. "could you be any more obvious?" he asks, gritting his teeth as he continues to glare at his shorter best friend, whose eyes just widen even more. "yes they're for y/n—"

"what are you two dating now?" chenle doesn't care about anything jisung has to say, he slaps his hand away and stares in interest, wanting to know more.

"no! were not dating! it's just—" jisung pauses, how is he even gonna explain this without looking super guilty? blood rushes through his cheeks as he thinks about it, about how these are your favorite flowers, about how you might react. "i wanted to get him something nice! he did a good thing and.."

and i am just so in love with him, i think i might be going insane.

"i just want to do something nice!"

"okay but are you doing something nice or are you getting ready to ask him out?"

jisung's face goes a dangerously red color, and he immediately shakes his head, denial coursing through his veins. "i'm not going to ask him out, i mean— i get why you think that but it's not what it looks like!"

chenle raises an eyebrow, staring at his totally lovestruck best friend. "it sure does seem to be what it looks like".

"chenle—"

"look, jisung, there's no need to deny that you have such an obvious crush on y/n" chenle states like it's a matter of a fact, because it is, they both know it very well, he's better at assessing jisung's feelings than jisung himself is. "he thinks your cute, you think he's cute, you two just need to ask each other out".

"um.." jisung presses his lips together, the two falling into a weird silence. he clutches the daisies in his hands, thinking about you, but he shuts off his thoughts to respond to chenle's little analysis of him.

"i just don't know where we stand, i mean we're barely even friends".

"you two are pretty much already more than friends considering he can't talk to you without looking like he's about to devour you whole".

jisung's face must be an astonishing shade of red right now. "it's not—! i don't know how to explain it okay!?"

"yeah and how are you gonna explain the flowers?" chenle points at the daisies jisung is practically squeezing to death. "other people are probably gonna get another idea".

"well i'll let them think what they want" jisung responds, his only focus is you, who cares what other people think? your his main priority. "y/n is my main focus, i don't care about what other people are saying".

chenle chuckles at his response, oh park jisung is so down bad, he's so in love with you, a kind of love chenle has never seen him have for another person. yes park jisung, love avoiding extraordinaire, is head over heels in love with a boy, chenle cannot believe it.

"okay jisung, go ahead with your wooing y/n mission or something".

at least chenle is supportive.

jisung has to go through so many interrogations to explain to your fellow photographers why he's giving you flowers, while a few of them just shrug and get it, the rest of them make sure to eye him suspiciously while he goes on with his explanation and bright red ears.

he knows most of them probably won't keep their mouths shut, and jisung knows that you told him he shouldn't get you anything for preventing him from getting any future brain damage, but jisung disagrees, he thinks you deserve gifts.

"who are those for?"

your brain doesn't register the flowers, or the connection that they have with your not-so-secret admirer, you just stare at them puzzled. "they're for you!" sohee yells from somewhere else in the room, focused on another important thing.

your eyebrows furrow, and you blink as you stare at the daisies on the table. daisies are your favorite flowers, but everyone knows that! these could be from anyone! you're no stranger to getting random gifts from people, so these could really be from anyone.

but you only have a certain person in mind..

"from who?" you ask, but you really already know who, considering the knowing look sohee sends to you.

"jisung".

of course, you say in your head, your fingers trace the packaging of the bouquet, admiring the pretty flowers before you (the pretty flowers given to you by a pretty boy), a small smile comes to your face as you think about it. you told jisung not to get you anything, but he obviously wasn't going to listen to you, he's made that very clear.

"did he tell you anything?"

sohee doesn't spare you another glance, but you can just tell he's grinning like a madman with the way he's clearly trying to hold in his laughter. "he just told me to make sure to get them to you, he was very insistent".

the teasing tone of your friends voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, and your barely able to stifle your laugh, not at sohee exactly, but at jisung's actions.

of course he didn't listen when you said for him to not get you anything, he remembered what your favorite flowers are, did he spend his weekend thinking about it? you wonder what kind of florists we must've went to.. your mind races with just jisung thoughts, and you're just so lost in them that you don't realize your zoning out.

oh park jisung, why do you have to be so sweet?

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO?" YOU immediately ask the moment you come across park jisung in the hallway. the boy blinks, smiling at the sight of you, his face practically brightens at the sight of you. "what do you mean?" he inquired innocently, a small tilt of his head adding to his question. you send him a glare, not a serious one, but it's still a glare. you can't even believe his audacity, for him to look at you with such beautiful eyes, make your knees feel weak without even having to do anything? park jisung is just such a crazy man, you don't know if you can stare at him any longer, you might end up passing out from heat exhaustion (the heat from your face, of course, something that's become so normal for you when around park jisung).

"don't 'what do you mean?' me, i told you not to get me anything!" you complain, lightly shoving jisung's shoulder. "seriously, i said it was fine.." you mumble those words, but jisung just smiles.

"i wanted to get you something anyway, i needed to show you my appreciation somehow".

but just your admiration is enough appreciation for me, just you being around is enough, just you is enough.

your own thoughts weird you out on occasions.

"i told you not to—"

"but i wanted to, it's fine y/n, seriously, just accept my gesture".

you bite your inner cheek, he just always has to be nice, doesn't he? your cheeks flare up and you swear your face goes a shade of red you've never seen before, how does one boy even affect you like this? you don't think you've ever acted like this around any of your other admirers ever..

"ah" a small smile comes to your face. "thank you" you whisper, you're not sure why you get so shy all of a sudden.

"it's no problem" jisung responds, a smile coming to his face. he closes the door to his locker, and then leans onto it. "walk with me?"

you blink, jisung really likes walking with you, huh? is this gonna become your thing? you wouldn't really mind when you think about it.. you enjoy walking with jisung, you just enjoy any time you can spend with jisung.

"what's with you and asking to walk with me?"

"walking with you is just.. nice".

"do i ease your stresses or something?"

your tone is meant to come off as teasing, and your question is mostly unserious, you don't register how you sound like your flirting with jisung, probably because everything just feels so natural with jisung, you love how you feel around him, it's confusing to explain.

"i guess you could say that" jisung's response snaps you out of your jisung focused thoughts, thoughts which are difficult to not get stuck in considering park jisung is constantly occupying your mind these days. "anyway, can you walk with me?"

you pause, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. you have class in twenty minutes, and you don't really want to walk back all the way with only five minutes left to make it to class. "i don't know.. chen might kill me".

"please?"

that catches you off guard, you seemingly forget how to think for a second. jisung really wants to walk with you so bad, he's reverting to that easily convincing voice of his? you'd be an idiot to say no, you'd be an idiot to deny anything given to you by park jisung, you sigh in your head.

"okay, fine".

a smile of victory places itself on jisung's face, and he takes your hand, to your own surprise, as the two of you begin making your way down the hall. you wanna bring it up, but you don't want him to let go of you, so you don't. your face goes a bright shade of red, jisung doesn't seem to mind, or maybe he's always wanted to hold your hand, you aren't sure.

you focus way too much on it, on the way it feels, how jisung's soft hands contrast your rough ones, how warm his hands are, you don't want to let go, you don't want him to let go. god, you feel like such a loser, freaking out over a boy holding your hand.

but it's not just a boy, it's park jisung, park jisung makes you feel things you thought you'd never feel before..

"why do you seem so worried?" jisung chuckles, his hand holding yours. he nudges your shoulder lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"because, i don't wanna be late".

jisung snickers, not making fun of you, though, he hopes you don't think that. "have you never skipped a class before?"

your eyes widen as large as saucers, model student park jisung has skipped classes? a small chuckle escaped your lips. "no, i could never bring myself to, it always made me feel strange.."

now it's jisung's turn to look surprised, you laugh again, why does he assume you skip classes? or have even attempted to skip? you wonder what goes through his mind. "are you serious? you've never tried to skip before?"

you scoff, pinching his arm. "i tried to once in the sixth grade because of a dare from friends, but i literally couldn't do it, they called me a wimp for the rest of the year".

"aww sad".

"don't give me your fake pity, also— you've skipped class before!?"

jisung chuckles at your surprise, giving a small smile. "it was a few times as a sophomore, some classes are just so boring i can't resist".

"wow, model student park jisung skips his classes? i cannot believe the information that has been bestowed upon me".

the words, paired with your sarcastic tone made jisung let out yet another snicker, he hopes he's not overdoing it in your eyes, you're genuinely just a very funny person. "oh no! don't use this secret to tarnish my pristine reputation!"

"you're such an idiot".

a cute idiot.

"be quiet, you still love me" jisung rebuts, adding a small nudge to your shoulder along with his words.

it's weird to say, but you like this. even with your totally non-romantic feelings for jisung, you find this nice. is this what dating him would be like? you get to hold hands and joke around in the halls without a care in the world? you think you'd enjoy that, you'd enjoy dating park jisung.

wait what?

you snap out of your thoughts when jisung stops, so you stop too. he lets go of your hand, and you resist the urge to frown, because you don't want to come off as desperate. (but you are desperate, you're so desperate, having park jisung hold your hand was so nice, you want him to hold it again).

"this is my stop, thank you for my walking with me".

the words are simple, basic, but you find your face heating up at them anyway. you clear your throat, not wanting to stay silent any longer. "it was no problem, i couldn't disagree anyway".

jisung laughs, he is so pretty, so pretty without even having to do anything significant. "of course you couldn't" he looks down at his feet. "anyway! have a good day y/n, don't be late to your next class!"

you blink as you watch jisung walk into the auditorium for his next class, you watch as he walks away, standing there for what seems like forever. how could a guy, just a guy affect you so much? what is it with park jisung and making you stop in your tracks? he's mesmerizing, just so easily draws you in.

your eyes widen as you realize the time, you're going to be late for your next class, mr. chen is going to kill you!

and as you totally sprint down the hallway to get to your next class, your mind is racing with thoughts of park jisung the entire time.

"AM I NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND?" YOU CAN practically hear the pout in sungchan's voice as he said those words. you place the extra polaroids on your desk, then glance up at your friend, who stares at you with an expression of defeat on his face. you raise an eyebrow, puzzled at what the actual hell he's talking about, he's always just bringing stuff up so randomly, you can't even keep up with what he's referring to now. sungchan just frowns, letting out a groan of frustration as plops down beside you, a small huff adding to his words. you chuckle at the way he decides to present himself, and he groans once again, very frustrated. "where is this coming from?"

"why didn't you tell me about you and jisung".

you pause, an expression of surprise comes to your face, your face which heats up astonishingly quickly. "me and jisung? me and jisung what? we aren't—"

"y/n there's no point in denying it, everyone already knows".

"everyone already knows what?"

"that you and jisung have a thing, it's fine if you don't wanna tell everyone but excluding me? your best friend in the whole entire world from the news?"

"jisung and i aren't dating!" you say immediately, clasping your hands together as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. why do people even think that? yeah you like park jisung but how did people even reach the conclusion that you were dating? you're not even sure if jisung returns your feelings. "i don't even know where people got that idea.."

"so your constant yearning stares and pitched up giggles are all not apart of that?"

"i don't—" you are definitely showcasing all guilty characteristics, your red face, your shrill voice, and your very obvious lying, sungchan sees right through you, anyone would be able to. "yearning stares are stupid i don't do that!"

"yeah, sure y/n" sungchan sighs, and you groan, screaming into your pillow. "i'm not trying to be mean or anything, but it's disgustingly obvious that you're into jisung, and i mean in a cringy way".

you gasp in offense, turning away from your best friend. you want to remain stubborn, but you can't, of course you can't, how can you even deny your feelings for jisung anymore if other people can now tell that you like him? your face heats up in embarrassment, and you cover your face with your hands. "is it really that obvious?" you mutter, hoping the answer isn't what you think it is.

"yeah, very, i wouldn't even be surprised if the two of you were actually dating and this was a little trick of yours".

sungchan points at you, an accusatory look in his eyes, but he immediately lets it go, because he knows you, and he can tell that you are telling the truth. you don't even have the courage to look at him, still covering your face with your hands. "have you not told jisung how you feel yet?"

your silence tells sungchan everything he needs to know, and the look he gives you is absolutely criminal.

"YOU HAVEN'T!?"

"i haven't found any time too!"

"how much time have you been spending around jisung these days!? you haven't even tried to bring it up to him!"

you let yourself fall to the side, half your body hanging off your bed. "i don't know how to" you whine, mind immediately rushing to thoughts of park jisung, thoughts you probably shouldn't be having. "it's awkward!"

"well i'm sure jisung feels the same with the way he always has to resist the urge to kiss you in the hallway".

"with the way he WHAT!?"

the words are enough to make you rise from your formerly fallen state, a look of astonishment on your face. did jisung really return your feelings? or was sungchan just trying to start something that would end up absolute humiliation?

"y/n, not trying to be rude or anything, but it's so obvious that jisung wants to date you, he doesn't even have to say it for everyone to know!"

you feel like you just discovered the secrets of the universe with those words, park jisung likes you? like likes you likes you? once the realization dawns on you, you gasp loudly.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!? OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SUCH AN IDIOT UGH!"

sungchan watches you freak out, he truly can't believe that he had to tell you for all of it to finally set in.

it's actually pretty funny, and he snickers as he watches you go absolutely ballistic.

"HAVE YOU SEEN Y/N?" JISUNG ASKS the first recognizable person he sees in the hallway. he hasn't seen any seniors anywhere for a while, but that's because the days keep getting warmer, meaning graduation keeps getting closer, most of the seniors only take two classes and then go on to do their extracurriculars, so they don't really have to spend the whole entire day at school, but it's weird today because he usually always sees you, even when he isn't purposefully looking for you (which has become a common thing for him to do, he's just loves the time he can spend with you). he hopes you aren't absent, because today is friday, and if he doesn't tell you his important news now he's going have to wait an extra two days.

"y/n? uh..." the unfamiliar boy pauses for a moment, as if thinking, and jisung is hoping that it isn't the worst, because he really needs you to be here today. "well i'm not sure where he is actually! probably with his other photographers".

"but he's here right?" jisung doesn't care if he comes off as desperate, his only focus is you, you are his main priority, he doesn't care about the impression he's making on others, he can truly only think about you at the moment.

"yeah! i'm just not sure where exactly!"

"okay thank you!"

the guy gives him a strange look, a mix of teasing and giddy, but jisung walks off too fast to see it, he's set on finding you. he doesn't exactly know where he's supposed to go, he's just hoping to somehow spot you and be able to get you alone.

"what are you rushing for?" chenle comes out of nowhere, noticing jisung's urgency and the way he's clearly focused on something specific strikes him as odd, but he already has an idea of what's making jisung so fidgety. "you're gonna confess your love to y/n or something?"

"yes, actually i am chenle, it'd be great if i could find him, though".

maybe it's jisung's surprising honesty, or the way his main priority is you. chenle finds it amusing how quick the switch flipped, but it's also kind of cute. the usual pessimist, mr 'i don't really care about love' park jisung is down bad for a boy, it's adorable. "have you tried the photography room?"

"where do you think i'm heading?"

chenle chuckles at jisung's attitude, simply smiling and pulling his cheek. "alright then! don't forget to tell me how it goes!"

jisung doesn't spare chenle another glance, just turns back around and focuses on the task at hand, finding you and telling you how he feels.

jisung wonders how you'll react, based on what he's seen, it's not completely guaranteed that you'll reject him, it's probably more likely that you return his feelings rather than don't. does that make him horrible? thinking because you've exhibited the traits of someone who has a crush that you have a crush on him?

maybe you don't like him and he's letting it all get to his head, it all just seems too good to be true.

jisung doesn't even have to go all the way to the photography room, because he bumps right into you whilst on his way there, and a small yelp escapes your lips. "oh my god.. sorry!"

jisung cannot contain his excitement, and his nervousness. there is absolutely nothing to be nervous about, this is y/n. kind, understanding, charming y/n, it's not like he's going to scream at you for telling him you like him. it’ll all be fine.

"it's alright" you whisper, shaking your head for a moment. "i was looking for you" you immediately say, not allowing for jisung to speak before you.

jisung's eyes widen. you were looking for him? it makes his brain go haywire, figurative cogs in his head turning. "that's ironic, i was looking for you too".

jisung swears he can see the red coloring on your cheeks, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"i have to tell you something".

the two of you say that sentence in unison, the same amount of anxiety coursing through your veins, the same red hue on your cheeks, the same look of surprise in your eyes. "you can go first" you whisper, picking at your fingers, you aren't exactly sure if you want to hear what he's about to say.

"are you sure? it seems you have something more important to say.."

"it's fine! really, i can just say it after yo—"

"i'm in love with you".

the words strike you like a punch to the gut, a slap to the face. your stomach drops, your face is burning horribly, and your legs feel like they're about to give in. you cannot believe it, you hope you don't pass out, you hope you don't just die right here, that'd be so embarrassing.

park jisung is in love with you. beautiful, talented, model student park jisung who you've never truly known how you felt about is in love with you. you are so happy, giddy, and it disgusts you, but the disgust is quickly replaced by the feeling of joyousness. park jisung is in love with you, he feels the same way.

"jisung, i'm—"

"it's okay if you don't return my feelings i just wanted to tell you!" is that really what he thinks? that you don't love him back? he must be crazy, you've only ever exhibited reciprocal feelings. "i'll be off now!"

"no! don't go!" you grab jisung's wrist before he can walk away. smart move y/n, you're acting so natural right now. "i just, i return your feelings! i just don't know how to explain it, also my hands are very sweaty right now and i feel gross.."

you let go of jisung's wrist and feel your face get unbearably hotter. it's embarrassing, you feel so embarrassed, but it's park jisung, and jisung just stares at you lovingly. you're so cute, how did it take him this long to tell you how he felt?

"you're so cute".

jisung doesn’t even realize he says the words until you give him that look, and your red face just makes him giggle more. "this isn't— that is not fair! i was supposed to confess first!"

"you're the one who told me to go first!"

"i didn't know you were going to tell me you liked me! i prepared a whole sentence for you and everything!"

you whine, covering your red face with your hands. jisung removes your hands from your face, and a small smile graces his pretty features. he's absolutely gorgeous, he has such a pretty smile, you have the sudden urge to tell him about it. "your smile is beautiful".

now it's jisung's turn to become the red faced lovesick fool. "ah, really?" he responds, voice shaky, hands even more shaky, but they're so soft, your mind always reminds you to note that.

you hum in agreement. "it's very pretty, i can't believe more people don't talk about it".

"well you can talk about it, aren't we technically dating now?"

the question makes you pause. you feel like your about to go insane, you're dating park jisung? park jisung is your boyfriend? this is like a dream come true, a dream you thought would stay a dream and only a dream. "dating? dating! yeah yeah!"

your natural act is not natural at all, you are very nervous, so nervous you feel like your about to collapse onto the floor. "there's no need to be so nervous.."

you groan. "says you!"

"alright y/n" jisung lets go of your hands, much to your dismay, because you frown. he takes note, and reaches over to grab your own once again, intertwining your fingers. "we’re dating, you don't have to go red faced every time i compliment you now".

"but it's you, how do i not?"

jisung sighs, leaning forward and pressing a small peck on your lips. oh he is such a stupid little—

"why would you do that!?"

"i'm sorry!" jisung giggles, he was definitely not sorry. "it was an instinct, i had to!"

"you— ugh!"

park jisung can't just not make you nervous, he's such a crazy man.

one that you love, of course.

"I THINK I LIKE THIS ONE THE MOST.." JISUNG states, admiring the polaroid photos which litter the desk. you hum at his words, rummaging through the box on the counter, you are very much focused on finding that estranged camera taehyun had pointed for you to find. your boyfriend glances up, looking over your shoulder, silently watching as you get frustrated about this stupid camera you couldn't find. "which one?" you inquire, glancing over at him. jisung holds up the polaroid, a picture you'd taken of you and sungchan at the beach when you were nine. a pretty photo, you aren't even sure how you pulled it off. "ah, that is a pretty one" you whisper, and you smile the moment jisung smiles. his smile is so pretty, a cute stretch which is enough to make you smile, even if you feel down.

"what’s with your face?"

"searching for this old camera is pissing me off" you remark, knowing that you have to search for this is just making you even more mad, why do you have to pack the photography room right before graduation? you hate it. "who even left it in here?"

"a former student maybe?"

you close your eyes, sighing. "i need this to be over so much more quickly" you complain, and jisung just laughs at your misery.

"we graduate in a week, y/n, just be patient" the younger pokes your cheek, then he cups your face, trying to make your frown disappear. "an old camera is not the end of the world".

you glance down at jisung's lips, then narrow your eyes. "are you trying to seduce me?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"no?" jisung responds, adding a small tilt of his head to his words. "do i sound believable?"

"not at all" you say, pushing jisung's hands away and looking back to the box in front of you so you can continue to scour for this camera you have to get for your friend. you continue to search through the box, trying to find this old dslr camera for your friend. "so don't distract me".

"i'm not!" jisung whines, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin onto your shoulder, watching you try to succeed at your mission of finding a camera. "you don't want to give me, your lovely, amazing boyfriend attention?"

you merely roll your eyes at jisung, he's so annoying (in a cute way), you're about to call chenle to drag him away from you, but you also don't want him to let go of you, his arms around your waist make you feel safe, loved, park jisung makes you feel so loved.

"i found it!" you shriek, victory soaring in your voice. "fucking finally".

"okay so can you give me a kiss now?" jisung asks, puckering his lips and leaning closer to you.

he's so desperate, and you are too, it's adorable, park jisung is adorable. "hmm" you pretend to think about it, an inquisitive look making it's way to your face. "nah".

"y/n! that's not fair!" jisung whines, shaking you with his arms that are still around your waist. he frowns, trying to give you his best puppy dog eyes.

you almost give in, but you push him away, taking the camera you'd been searching for. "later, babe".

"you said that this morning!"

you sigh, turning around to stare at the pouting park. the cute pout remains on his face, how can you ever resist him? you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, ruffling his hair. "there, are you happy you big baby?"

"you could do better".

"uh huh, and you could be patient".

jisung frowns once again, but it's not a serious one, just the cute one he likes to do when he pretends to be mad at you. "don't be mad, you know i love you".

jisung does know, he knows that very well. he smiles at you, he's so in love with you, and not even in an embarrassing way, there's nothing embarrassing about this, he feels joyful, a sense of euphoria overtakes him whenever he’s with you.

"i know, i love you too".

and he isn't lying when he says that.

because he truly does.

#park jisung #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x male reader #park jisung imagines #park jisung x reader #park jisung x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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junkissed · 9 months

Text

happy ending

member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)

you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t.

after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.

you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.

what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?

you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.

with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.

maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.

what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.

from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.

you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.

but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood.

you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.

but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.

you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.

“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”

“yeah,” he answers shortly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”

“not hungry.”

“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”

he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”

you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.

an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.

you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.

“i— excuse me?”

“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.

you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”

he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”

you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”

“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”

his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.

he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”

you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”

“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”

“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”

he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”

he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”

and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.

you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?

jun has never just… walked out like that.

his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.

say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?

minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.

there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?

so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?

despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?

it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.

will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.

the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.

after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.

you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.

it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.

you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.

tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.

you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message.

instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.

as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui.

and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.

you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with.

he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since.

every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.

when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.

and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.

it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.

“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.

“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”

you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.

you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.

it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.

across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.

why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.

not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.

jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.

he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.

he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.

“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”

with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.

in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.

he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again.

he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.

he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.

with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.

he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.

the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.

but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.

he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.

he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal?

a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.

he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—

his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue.

gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.

this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?

he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.

he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.

there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.

immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.

he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either.

that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.

he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.

“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.

“is she there?” he asks anxiously.

“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”

“wait,” jun adds quickly.

the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”

"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—

“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.

jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”

he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”

you don’t reply, so he continues.

“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”

“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.

“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.

“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”

“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”

you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"

“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”

“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.

“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.

“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”

“i will.”

he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.

"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"of course. let me know when you're ready."

half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.

reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.

seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.

"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."

"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."

he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."

the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.

you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."

you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.

"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.

you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod.

he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."

"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.

he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.

after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."

you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"

jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."

"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.

now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."

you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.

he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath.

"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."

"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."

you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.

"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.

"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.

"you're pregnant?"

you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."

he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.

"well, i was, last night."

"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"

you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."

he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."

"i said it's fine, jun."

"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."

"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."

"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes.

you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."

"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.

"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."

"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"

"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."

"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."

you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head.

after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."

before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."

"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."

"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."

you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.

"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.

from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.

"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands.

"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."

he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."

"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."

he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"

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949 notes · View notes

short-black-diamond · 7 months

Note

please can you do bf headcanons for kaiser and sae and rin please (fem reader)

thxx

yeheeheheyyy

German vocab: "Schätzchen" = cute-ification of "treasure"

---

"That's my boyfriend!"

Kaiser:

Ayo how I hate that bitch

Please don't request stuff about him in the future

But him as a boyfriend?

I guess he'd be pretty chill, but he'd like to have you on his lap a lot

like, in that one chapter where he examined Isagi, he'd for sure have you on his lap, while trying to figure out what made Isagi so different

and he'd just--- stroke your thigh?

Idk I think he would do something like that

anf then hmmm...I think he's rich

not filthy rich like Reo, but pretty rich

I think he'd also spoil you? like--he'd sometimes buy you jewellery, but other than that, he would buy you other stuff, which is much more useful

like, one time he bought you a new tablet because yours got coffee on it

his coffee

soccer dates don't @ me

he'd try to teach you soccer if you didn't already know how, and if you did, he'd have you running after him as he always took the ball away right under your heel

It was funny, and you were happy to see your boyfriend laughing and giggling when he teicked you over and over again by dribbling the ball around you, before he gave you a small kiss to your cheek and scored a goal

"Jeez, you need to do better if you want the ball, Schätzchen."

You huffed. "I hope this wasn't an insult.."

"I'd never insult you, ____."

You guys would also go through Germany, with him showing you a lot of sights and taking pictures of you, then some selfies and would also buy you a cute souvenir.

he's a gentle lover, who gives you soft kisses and holds your hand softly

I think he'd also bring you to a viennesse ball, just to dance viennesse waltzer with you with an expensive, victorian dress he bought you as you two danced the waltz in old fashioned clothing in an old fashioned building with old fasioned people

bonus points if it was a masquerade ball

(imagine if he told you he'd meet you at the ball and mistake another girl with you, thinking that it was you, and you arriving to him dancing with another girl who had similar features as you...just imagine the heartbreak...the drama...I'd dance with Ness then, just to spite Kaiser...maybe I'll write a fic about that?)

Sae:

If you read my last post, I guessed -correctly- that Sae's an ass guy

Excpect your butt to be warm and squeezed at all times, babe

No but seriously I'm so proud of myself for being right about something I didn't know was already canon

*pats my own shoulder proudly*

He's busy

He has to train

but if you want to come with him, he won't stop you

When he was with the U-20, and he agreed for you to come with him, he hated it the moment you stepped foot in the room where he and his team was in

Imgine the bloodlust he felt when Oliver and Sendo touched you and flirted with you like there was no tomorrow (they didn't know that you were together with sae)

"I'm Sae's girlfriend..?", you then said and Sae hugged you from behind.

"Yes, I am her boyfriend, so take your filthy hands off of her.", he seethed.

Safe to say, the two didn't really listen as they just kept flirting with you, and they got to feel Sae's wrath on the field as he just kicked the ball into their face and crotch area

Other than that, I'd expect him to be very clingy

he looks touch-starved

give this man some love

After practise, he would always take a quick shower before cuddling with you on his bed and just take a small nap, letting you do whatever you want, but don't move your legs

he once turned you around on your stomach with force before he just---let his face fall onto your ass cheeks

you have no idea why he has an obession with your butt but oh well

Rin:

Another touch-starved baby

But he enjoys your company, speak, the first weeks of you dating him were silent, but he always had a small smile on his face

but let me tell you- he blushed madly when you held his pinky with yours

it was actually the first time you touched him

boy couldn't breathe

what have you done ____???

However, as the days went on, Rin initiated the touch more and more, and after a few months came the first kiss, with him kissing you softly, but his lip was trembling

And a rin with a beet red face came to view

I think he'd talk very quietly to you, I don't know why, but I just--do, you know?

Like he only wants you to hear what he has to say to you.

and you love it

also expect him to buy you stuff you don't really need?

I mean, he means it in a good way, but do you actually need an owl plushie in all its natural colors?

"Rin...why?"

"I-I like owls...! ...and, you're my girlfriend...so I wanted to give you something I like.", cue him looking at you sadly, but with innocent eyes.

yeah, you kissed him breathless after that little confession

also like-- I don't think any of the blue lockers have a dominant bone when they have an s/o at first, which means that the boys would also be shy

and I can just imagine Rin taking many tries before he actually asks to hold your hand, or takes nearly an hour more time from his busy schedule to buy you flowers you weren't allergic to, but which you also haven't received yet

he's the type who'd try to bake you cookies, and only have a small error, like either not enough sugar or cocoa, or idk what

---

Okay and that's it! I hope I nailed it, tell me if I didn't!

Read you guys in the next post!

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denwritesandcries · 5 months

Text

YJS Headcanons | | body types

Pairings: Yellowjackets x fem!reader

Summary: Okay so, I was thinking about body types so I could add details to my Shauna fic, really small things like skin marks and other stuff and that made me think about the other yjs too. I'm not used to writing headcanons, but here are a few that I couldn't get out of my head.

Word count: 1,9k.

Content: my personal headcanons, cursing, suggestive, fluff, insecurities, hurt/comfort, recent pop culture references so i guess modern!AU??

A/N: This is so random and specific I don't think anyone will read it but I wanted to write it so badly.

English is not my first language.

shauna shipman

- I think Shauna is the most athletic of the girls, since in the first episode it’s said that she is the fastest on the team. Not necessarily thin; she is solid. Solid and warm. A warm wall seeking your touch all the time.

- She would always try to keep one hand on you and every time she touched you, her skin would be scalding hot, as if she barely needed gloves in the winter and only wore them because you told her to.

- Big spoon! She likes to wrap her arms around you and let her body wrap you completely when you cuddle or sleep together, her weight relaxing against you.

- Shauna is strong, like really strong and she knows it, her arms and legs are toned from training and she takes advantage of this to tease you at any opportunity, carrying things for you willingly (your backpack, shopping, whatever, she would be exactly like the *aggressively moves all groceries to one hand to hold yours* meme), rolling up the sleeves of her flannels ‘cause the muscles stand out, pressing you against walls/counters or simply carrying you during makeout sessions and nothing you do will take away the smug smile on her lips – well, barely nothing.

- She would also wear tank tops and shorts frequently just to make you nervous and receive compliments. It's ridiculous ‘cause she really thinks she's being subtle (she isn't).

“Shaunie, you sure you don’t want a jacket?”

“No, I’m good like that.” She's not, but she won't admit it.

“It’s raining.” You insist.

“The cold doesn't bother me anyway.” She shrugs, but leans back against you, placing her chin on your shoulder.

You snort, “Sure thing then, Elsa.”

- Shauna has a happy trail! Little baby hairs going up to her navel where she melts into a puddle when you caress her, goosebumps covering her skin in the same second.

van palmer

- I believe Van has rough hands from her goalie gloves! They're always warm even if the rest of her body isn't ‘cause of the constant movement – she expresses herself a lot with her hands too. She likes to run them down your sides just to see how your skin crawls, sometimes she does it out of nowhere just to scare you because she thinks it's funny.

- I think her skin is very sensitive, the kind that's full of moles and burns easily in the sun – you're constantly reminding her to put on sunscreen, but it's no use – she loves it when you trace patterns on her spots before bed or when you're bored somewhere.

- Her skin being so sensitive also means that hickeys and scratches are really hard to hide on her. She doesn't mind, in fact she seems to enjoy it a lot, you catch her a lot of times watching the marks spread across her shoulders and neck as they take days to disappear. That doesn't stop her from teasing you tho.

“It's been a week and there's still a purple mark on my neck. What are you, a damn vampire?” She mocks.

“Nah, you act like you wouldn't love me to be your Edward Cullen.”

She lifts her chin at you, “A leech then.”

"Van!"

- She has a belly and is very proud of it! She says it's the best for defending the goal and that it makes her fall to catch the ball less painful; She'll flex her muscles like a gym athlete when she's changing playfully just to seduce you (it works every time). She loves it when she lies in your arms after a bad day and you squish her tightly, it helps her calm down.

- She also has a happy trail, but she is too ticklish, like really ticklish. Many of your makeout sessions end up interrupted by her giggling when you drag your hands too softly under her shirt, she prefers firm touches.

- Van definitely has lots of small scars spread across her body from accidents over the years, that little weirdo (affectionate).

nat scatorccio

- Nat is as pale as a ghost, it would be impossible not to notice when you made her blush for any reason. She would try to distract you so you don't pay attention to it, but it wouldn't put off anything.

- The dark circles under her eyes are extremely pronounced, both due to her paleness and the heavy makeup she wears, so you always know when she's had a bad day or simply hasn't slept enough. She will complain incessantly about you making her stop and rest, but she will always do what you ask.

- I truly believe that she has lots and lots of moles all over her body, especially on her back.

- Some are bigger than others, large spots on the skin and she pretends that her heart doesn't warm with the fascination you have for them, but the prominent red face says everything you need to know.

“They look like small constellations, Nat," you sigh dreamily, hands soft on her naked skin, “Man, I wish I knew a single shit about stars so I could name them.”

“I’m shirtless in front of you and that’s what you’re thinking about?”

- I think she would have a lot of acne, especially on her face from sleeping and forgetting to take off her cheap makeup often, you would have to do a skin care routine together for her to really start taking care of it.

- She definitely has a tattoo scar that she got from one of those shady professionals before she was eighteen and didn't take care of it properly. You almost freaked out when she showed it to you out of fear that it would get infected. In the end she ended up with a weird drawing and a skin failure, but for Nat it was totally worth it, she says it makes her look like a badass (it's definitely not just because you kiss the mark every time you see it).

lottie matthews

- Alright then, let me tell you, this girl is FREEZING from head to toe. No matter how well she dresses up, her whole body will remain strangely cold, which worries you at a certain point, so what better way to keep her warm than to have her glued to you like a koala all day?

- She would place her cold hands on your neck just to bother you and then smile innocently when you took them in yours to rub them and blow warm air on them. That smartass.

- Lottie is tall (at least a lot taller than me) and I think she would have a lot of growth marks, you don't grow like that as a teenager without some.

- Light streaks on the back, hips, legs and thighs that would vary in tone over time. I think she would have the habit of hiding them so that people wouldn't comment, wearing long stockings with her skirts at school parties.

- She would be so flustreaded if you showed that you liked them by running your hands up her inner thighs, scratching her back gently to feel the smooth texture of the taut skin. It makes her feel so loved.

- She has sun spots on her face, around her eyes and cheeks. You think it's so beautiful that you could admire it for hours, anywhere, but you usually do it in bed in the morning.

“Are you watching me sleep, dear?” Lottie mumbles as she wakes to find you giving her a love gauze.

“Hm-hm,” you deny quietly, “‘Not watching you sleep. I’m watching you.”

“Oh.”

jackie taylor

- Now, Jackie would have stretch marks and be completely insecure about them. The girl needs constant validation about everything that concerns her and you better give it to her, she just wants to feel loved.

- Marks on her hips and chest that most of the time wouldn't even be visible, but she would still remember they were there. You run your hands down her sides as gently as possible and she will have tears in her eyes as you snuggle, heart warm.

- Your support helps her feel more comfortable with her own body over time, but she still wants compliments every day and will give you hints ‘til you comply with her requests.

- Jackie has freckles! This is actually one of the things she likes most about her face, the trail of dots around her nose and eyes. She’ll melt into a puddle on the floor if you start to kiss them one by one, but will lose patience if you decide to count them and stop the act of leaving wet kisses on them. She's not very good at waiting.

“Babe!” She whimpers.

“Just a second, sweetie, I’m almost finishing.” You continue, a look of pure concentration on your face, muttering “35, 36, 37…”

“No.” She says, hand grabbing the collar of your t-shirt and pulling you against her, “Come back now.”

- Jackie isn't necessarily icy, but she gets cold very easily and isn't shy about asking for your coat or jacket when you're together. Your girlfriend is a princess, better treat her like one. She'll squeeze her body against yours in bed and steal the blankets to stay warm.

- She has spots on her arms! Hundreds of light spots on the outside of the wrists to the shoulders, it's almost imperceptible, but so cute. Make sure to always let her know how beautiful she is.

misty quigley

- I think Misty has acne scars on her shoulders and cheeks, little red dots spreaded. She don't mind it most of time, but can be very insecure about it.

- She would be really suspicious if you just showered her with compliments out of nowhere just ‘cause you think she’s upset, so acting is better. Actions speak more to her.

- Place soft kisses on her shoulders, gently bite her cheek so she rolls her eyes in that nervous way she does. Make her feel beautiful as she is – because she is.

- She would be so pleased with you spoiling her that she would pretend to be sad about it a lot of times just to get your attention, she is an evil little genius. It’s captivating.

- She has freckles too! Little dots on her face so lightly that you only see them when she takes off her glasses, but they are there.

“I kiss you everyday, how did I never notice your freckles before?”

“Oh, I don't know.” She shrugs innocently, “Maybe you should take a closer look, baby.”

- She thinks she's so smooth but in reality she's a mess, the girl can't pick up social cues to save her life.

tai turner

- Okay so, Tai is the type who takes the football really seriously and works hard to win and to do that she would try to stay in shape as much as possible. I can easily imagine her doing extra training sessions and her friends teasing her about it, ‘cause Tai, it's a high school team.

- Because of this, I think she would have stretch marks on her back and calves, light fine lines that stand out against her dark skin. These are marks of her effort, so she shows them with great pride.

- She gets very smug and her skin crawls when you run your nails over the marks on her back.

- Tai is strong, strong enough to break someones leg on the field (sorry not sorry allie) and will show off for it whenever she gets the chance. She likes to wrap her arms around you from behind and lift you off the ground when she's passing by.

- She has sun spots on her face and arms! You think it's so cute, but if you say something silly and cheesy about it she'll roll her eyes and tell you to stop embarrassing her.

You sigh, “You are so, so pretty, Tai.”

“And you are so, so lame.” She echos, “...Come here, let me kiss you.”

- Happy wife, happy life. Always make her feel appreciated, she deserves it.

#yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #van palmer x reader #misty quigley x reader #taissa turner x reader #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets #yjs #yjs headcanons #denwrites

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ghouljams · 9 months

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Dear Ghoul, remember the ask I sent previously about Price being all condescending and using nicknames to mock our dear witch and how you asked about how it feels being right about it?

I think I'm pretty proud about being spot-on about it all lol.

I wish I could send you some more stuff but atm my brain is solely focused on this Gaz oneshot I'm writing :') but I'll probably gush about Fae Price and Fae Gaz later this weekend hopefully.

Anyway, the only thing I can think about is witch harvesting some strawberries from her little kitchen garden and making a lot of fruit jam, and leaving some for Fae Price outside on the wall/barrier that stands between her hut and Price's place. Along with a cute note telling him to take the jam and to use it while it's fresh and all....the domesticity of it all is just so....gentle.

This probably got Fae Price thinking about how pretty and glowing Witch would be as they go about their day in a shared space, him going out and bringing his sweet witch herbs and keepsakes to work with, testing her magic spells by trying to break it for her....just swoon.

(also can I be 🪷 anon, if it's not taken? I'd like to have some moniker so it's easy to identify my rambling on your blog lol)

AH! Imagine me pointing at my fic with Witch sitting on Price's lap: the cookies in that have home made rose jam. God the rose motif I am pushing is just not subtle, but I don't care. Witch absolutely makes jam with the fruit in her garden/the fruit given to her by clients.

I think that while Price was still waiting for the threshold to let him in he sometimes had tea with Witch. He's not a big fan of tea, but he is a fan of the scones and jam that Witch makes.

It's one of your favorite times of the day, a little past lunch when the sun in your garden is at its hottest and the Winter on the other side is the coldest. You pass Price a mug of warm mulled wine and pluck a scone from the plate precariously balanced on the garden wall. Price sips at his drink while you complain about a difficult customer, neatly slicing your preferred scone to slather jam on each half. You offer half to Price and he takes it with a small smile.

"You not drinkin' tea anymore?" He asks suddenly. You pause capping the jam.

"I'm drinking tea now," You tip your mug to show him the leaves at the bottom, "Why?"

"This is wine." He says it like you should know what he's not saying, and you do.

"Homemade," You tell him with a smile, before relenting to his stare with a sigh, "You don't drink tea." Price hums, like he wants to refute it, as if you didn't see him his a frown and furrowed brows the last time you served him tea. Granted it was pretty bitter, but there were only so many times you could pour out a half drunk mug before you figured the man didn't enjoy a cuppa like you did.

"It's good," He finally tells you. You hide your smile behind your mug, sipping your lukewarm tea.

"Good, I'll make it again." You leave off the 'for you' Price doesn't need to know he's the only other person enjoying your labors. Even if he can taste it under the spices, that you were thinking of him while you were cooking. If he didn't know any better he might think you were trying to make him fall for you. You give too much of yourself too freely, he'd be a fool not to want you for himself.

"Got something for ya," He digs a hand into his pocket, fishing out the tightly corked bottle. You're pretty when you frown, the little crease in your brows is endearing.

"You don't have to repay-" He hold out the bottle, little white stems in soft purple liquid. Your eyes light up just how he thought they would. "Ghost pipes," Your excitement is so pleasant to be on this side of. He shakes the bottle, churning the contents while he waits for you to take it. He knows you will, the way you set down your mug and hold your hands out.

"For the food," He knows you're itchy about debts, and it's easier to imply he's put a price on your kindness than try to convince you he's giving out of his own care. No strings attached, he means to say. Even though he knows you'd never buy that. Your hesitance around accepting his gifts is starting to fade. It makes him feel almost warm when you take the bottle from him. It's not a tether, it's something else. A warmth he hasn't felt before.

He'll decide what it means later. When he isn't watching your smile.

#1fae1 #fae!Price #oc: witch #john price x reader #john price x oc #captain john price #Ok I gotta get off the fae and back to the cowboys #captain price x reader #captain price x oc #I feel like I'm losing my cowboy credibility #also i have seen other people writing cowboys recently and that makes me happy #more cowboys for me to read about #I'm gonna clear a bunch of fae asks out of by inbox #and work on my beloved ranch hands #🪷 anon

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optiwashere · 8 months

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Please write your thoughts about the importance of Shadowheart for Shar/Selûne :D

I FEED on character analysis.

SO!!!! This got long as fuck and also morphed into what you asked + a general character interpretation.

I relied on a combination of 2nd, 3rd, and 5th edition D&D lore, R.A. Salvatore novels, and of course BG3 as sources. Shadowheart's characterization adds up the most coherently on the purely romance / "get her away from Shar" path, and that is what I'm using as a basis for this post. Even when you're playing an "evil" route, she behaves in ways that betray a lot of what I get into under the break. This post, however, is biased towards the "good" path of her personal quest for the sake of my sanity and a somewhat reasonable word count.

First, a preamble for people that are maybe less knowledgeable about Forgotten Realms lore.

One of the biggest characterizations of Shar and Selûne in the Forgotten Realms is that they are twin sides of the same thing: night. Night as an aesthetic is symbolic of, among other things: mysteries, being lost without guidance (such as in faith or purpose), and finding oneself when one reaches for the truth. I.e., reaching light from the moon, stars, or daybreak (which is itself a symbol as the natural conclusion of darkness being light for redemption following suffering, goodness defeating evil, finding faith, etc.)

Shar and Selûne are sisters that also share the Night domain in 3e, a sort of fulcrum they both work around — Shar as the "malevolent" darkness with Selûne as the "benevolent" night. There is even a recognized heresy called the Dark Moon heresy in both cults/religions that Shar and Selûne are actually the same goddess playing one gigantic trick on Faerûn (this comes from a 3.5e splatbook called Power of Faerûn) but it's been pushed time and time again that the two sisters are, in fact, two separate entities. But duality of divinity, and how worshipers interpret their god, is a theme we see played up a ton in BG3.

What we know about Shar is that she despises her sister. Loathes her. Not only does she loathe her, she tricked Selûne's followers during the Time of Troubles, about 140 years before BG3, into worshiping her instead of the Moonmaiden. The Time of Troubles was a period when gods walked the Realms, rather than tossing avatars around everywhere. This lead to the formation of a fanatical group of cultists that followed the real Selûne, called the Lunatics (I'm still proud of managing to reference them in a goddamn Explicit PWP fic)

Meanwhile, Selûne is seen as a calming force. She wars with her sister every single night, and does not like her one bit, but she does it as a means to protect others from her sister rather than as a spiteful game. She's not as omnipresent in people's lives, she is just a natural force to a lot of her followers.

How does any of this relate to Shadowheart? Spoiler stuff and the actual character analysis under the break.

We know that Shadowheart was a "chosen" of Selûne as a child, per her parents' dialogue under the House of Grief. However, it's important to note that most religions in Faerûn name potential clerics as "chosen" ones of gods and goddesses.

We know that, throughout the game, Shadowheart learns that she is being manipulated by the Lady of Loss to do acts that go against some sort of internalized moral code that Shadowheart has. We see her approval go up when you do good acts (as long as you ask for compensation, or if it's to help helpless people/animals) and we see her disapprove when you press her boundaries or act unjustly cruel. "Unjust" is left so vague because she does not behave at all according to how the vast majority of Sharrans behave. There are numerous other flags for approval/disapproval such as her enjoying playful chaos, or disliking when you're too trusting of other companions when you first meet them, but we'll focus on the first set I mentioned.

We also know that Shadowheart was continually subjected to memory erasure via the cult of Shar in Baldur's Gate. This gets mildly restored here and there via the tadpoles and Dame Aylin, but her memory is mostly gone. So this moral code is something ingrained in her somehow, because Sharrans don't have kindness training. There's another entire character analysis to be written about Viconia's role in this as it relates to her own character in Baldur's Gate 2, but let's ignore that for now.

In the cloister under the House of Grief, there is a note you can find that outlines the squad sent to find the artifact that protects everyone from the Absolute's domination. The squad has a leader, and it is not Shadowheart. She is listed as "healer" and the text before this explicitly states that the entire squad is expendable. None of them matter to Shar.

BUT!

Divine visitation by a goddess is incredibly rare. It usually only happens to high level clerics, which Shadowheart isn't really even at 12th-level, and to those that the goddess has an extreme, vested interest in. If you free the Nightsong/Dame Aylin instead of killing her, Shadowheart is wrenched out of the Material Plane and made to suffer for an indeterminate amount of time. That, plus literally meeting Shar in the conclusion to her personal question, is very odd given what we know about Shadowheart.

If we presume that Larian did their jobs, and I'm going to because I trust them, then there is an immediate dilemma presented here. Either Shadowheart matters to Shar (she is not expendable), or she is just another zealot (she is expendable.) There is no half-truth in that logic table that really works for Shar, she's an absurdly dogmatic goddess. See: literally any Sharran you encounter in BG3 that isn't Shadowheart. It's possible that the writer of the note didn't know what they were talking about, but I think that's a lazy out that doesn't hold water with the rest of the evidence.

So, which is it? This being the part where I'm mostly in interpretation territory, Shar views Shadowheart as the perfect puppet, a toy to needle at her sister, not because she is important at all as a person, but because she's a representation of Selûne that Shar can mold to suit her image as she did in the Time of Troubles. We hear that in the game when Shadowheart basically says that she was just a thing for Shar to use. She's beaten into (what Shar believes will be) submission for not becoming a Dark Justiciar, but it only serves to sever the tie between cleric and goddess.

Shadowheart is Shar's answering play to Selûne beating that trick from the Time of Troubles, and there will be another Shadowheart after her eventual death. Shadowheart is both incredibly important and utterly worthless to Shar in the same way that an abuser uses affection and trust to hurt their victims. Love bombs in the form of divine power, sending her on this important mission, and offering the title of Dark Justiciar are followed by pain when Shadowheart displeases her. As if, on a whim, all that supposed mutual respect could turn into non-consensual, extreme violence.

Shadowheart is an objectified opportunity for Shar to fuck with Selûne for the entirety of a single half-elf's lifespan (anywhere from 150-200 years) and nothing more. A plaything to discard when all is said and done after a microcosm of time where a goddess is concerned. Whatever Shadowheart thinks she's benefiting from with Shar, it's all a trick. It's a massive delusion with which she's been brainwashed into participating.

And deep down, deep deep way deep down, Shadowheart knows this even in Act One. She spouts random sayings and the sorts of 2edgy4me one-liners that you would expect from a somewhat goth-y, slightly sassy Stock Evil Cleric in a fantasy RPG. For a good portion of Act One, you wouldn't be wrong to assume she's extremely one note and a total zealot. That is, unless you know two things:

That Shar is a fucking menace in Faerûn, and nothing good ever comes naturally from her cult. Anyone that knows FR lore was probably like me when they first interacted with Shadowheart. I know I basically said, "What the fuck, you're not a Sharran lmao. Either Larian goofed hard, or something's fishy here."

That extraordinarily devout people tend not to babble in verse, prayer, and all that unless they are also trying to convince themselves to have more faith in a set of beliefs that they're not entirely sold on. This isn't 100% of the time, but it's something you see in people whose faith is not very strong. People who have ironclad faiths and hold consistent ideologies tend to rely more on personal interpretation of faith, for good or ill. You see this all over BG3 in the people that are more confident in their beliefs, as well. Isobel, Orin, and Z'rell are three wildly different angles on that, for example. It's really all over the game in the NPCs.

That second point is the more important one here. Shadowheart, in Act One, is constantly talking about her goddess. If she's not hiding the artifact from you, she's couching an event in concern over what Shar would think of how she behaved. Like she's still a scared child who doesn't know how to handle what's happening around her despite being completely capable in scenarios as hectic as melee combat with ogres. The difference shines bright as day if you play a follower of Selûne and push back on her beliefs, though you do of course get a lot of vitriol in the beginning. Even so, it's clear that Shadowheart knows something is off about Shar whenever confronted with actual Sharran activity/belief, but she's been brainwashed and abused so horrendously that she constantly tries to "correct" herself to appease her abuser.

Selûne, however, isn't really a "part" of Shadowheart's quest in the same way as Shar. The Moonmaiden is not an active participant, she is not a guiding hand or even a faint idea in Shadowheart's thought processes because of how intense the memory blending got for her. The most we ever really get of Selûne's opinion comes from external sources (pretty much entirely from Shadowheart's parents, Isobel, and Aylin when she's not PROCLAIMING DIVINE RIGHTS.) To the Moonmaiden, Shadowheart is really just another of her many, many children spread throughout the Realms. Yet, Shadowheart retains that sense of inherent goodness that Selûne instils in her followers.

Unlike the Lady of Loss, Selûne's indifference isn't hateful or spiteful at all. For Selûne, the ultimate goal of any of her followers is to find themselves. To illuminate who they are meant to be by moonlight. Two of her domains in 3rd edition are Protection and Travel, and in 5e she has Knowledge as well, while one of her "mantles" (the domain equivalent for psionics) is Freedom. She wants to give her followers the ability to freely tread whichever road will lead to self-actualization.

Selûne demands almost nothing of her own followers so long as they act according to the basic tenets of a traditionally Chaotic Good deity. She accepts flaws, faults, and failures in her clerics as much as she rewards strengths, virtues, and victories. There is no divine intervention from Selûne because she accepts Shadowheart intrinsically as long as Shadowheart finds herself. All it took for Selûne to take Shadowheart back after forty years of being a fanatical Sharran was saving one person, and trusting one of two people that we know she's let in for that forty years (the PC, as well as possibly Nocturne) — Selûne sees that she's an abuse victim at the heart of it all.

Side-note: Selûne's primary holy symbol is two eyes surrounded by stars. She is always a passive witness to her clerics' deeds. I don't think I need to get into that symbolism.

Whenever given the chance, Shadowheart values freedom incredibly highly. Even in someone she can take the entire game to warm up to, such as Lae'zel. Her dialogue after Lae'zel denounces Vlaakith speaks directly to this. It's seen repeatedly in her comments on other characters' personal quests such as Astarion, or Karlach, and with Lorroakan's intent on imprisoning Aylin in Act 3.

Once Shadowheart is pulled away from Shar's influence in the end of Act 2/early Act 3, she is... not a completely different person, but she is absolutely a calmer individual that also allows her emotions to surface more intensely. If you're romancing her by Act 2, she confesses that she wants to be with the PC (forever) IMMEDIATELY after being punished horrifically by Shar; she progresses the romance far faster once Shar is out of her brain; she cries, alone, in front of the PC if she chooses to listen to her parents and spare herself from Shar while also killing them. She's known this entire time that she's purposefully holding parts of herself back, and this is her immediate reaction to being set free.

Of course, it's a video game and things aren't always perfectly paced, especially considering the implementation of the Long Rest system. Much of this interpretation requires you to accept that.

After the small dialogue about Shar's intervention after the Gauntlet, the narrator comments that you're not sure if telling Shadowheart where her divine power now comes from will break her spirit forever. That's interesting, and it makes her almost manic change to "I have to be with this person forever" in the romance so utterly sad. Shadowheart is an almost textbook depiction of someone who struggles immensely with vulnerability and emotional openness due to childhood neglect and abuse. Even worse, she's been suffering that neglect and abuse for forty-plus years and she cannot remember what life was like before the time when she constantly yearned for the approval of her abuser. When she's set free and given the appropriate space to manage her feelings (all of the times she asks to be given space/asks the PC to respect her boundaries), support from friends and loved ones in the way Larian handled the camp crew's reactions to everyone's personal quests, and a purpose in life that extends beyond her abuser, she flourishes almost immediately.

To Selûne, Shadowheart is simply another person finding themselves in a world that's incredibly difficult to navigate. Under Shar's domination, Shadowheart will never be anything more than a useful puppet that dances happily whenever her goddess asks, pleased to be what she thinks is useful as she wears the false title of Dark Justiciar. With Selûne watching but not pushing, Shadowheart can be free of everything but her own choices, her own mistakes and victories. Her own person, freed from expectation.

P.S. "Breaking out of toxic thought patterns" is a common thread in the companion romances and quests. In a similar way to how Astarion uses sexuality to mask a part of himself in his romance, Shadowheart sees all this time she's spent holding herself back as an excuse to reverse course and accelerate ridiculously fast by comparison.

My point is, she is a U-Haul Lesbian.

#hey you can ask me things!#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #shadowheart #shadowheart analysis by yours truly #there is so much to analyze about viconia in bg3 as well #shadowheart's romance has some interesting mirrors to viconia's from bg2 #there is a phenotype for unsure sharrans and it comes back to “why do I trust this person so much?” and battling with that #it is - as they say - girl dinner #also shar should absolutely share the Twilight domain in 5e #and on a final note: if you ever want to know where my shadowheart kink headcanons come from hellllllllloooooooo this post #bc as sweet as she is goddamn that girl loves when you degrade people and she has a CONSISTENT interest in sadomasochist behavior

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hretoprvdthepltnx · 8 months

Note

Hihi !! Before i request I just love your writing so much and I couldn’t resist to request this!!

Could I request a teen! Reader (angel) who’s sees crowley & aziraphale as their parental figures who is trying to make something nice for them?

The reader is super silly and innocent so like the stuff they make look like something else 💀

Handmade

Ineffable Husbands x teen!angel!reader

Summary: Y/n wants to do something special for their favorite angel/demon duo. So, they try their ethereal hand at the human art of crafting.

Content: y/n uses they/them pronouns, improper use of miracles,

Note: Anon, you're such an absolute sweetheart. I appreciate you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't realize what you meant by 'something else' until after but hopefully you still enjoy the fic.

Rating: 14+ || 500+ w.

Gifts were important. Gifts were a way of expressing profound love for an individual, at least that is what Aziraphale had taught you. Gifts meant a lot; they were a language all their own. Gifts meant I love you.

Gifts were hard.

You stared at the heaping pile of crafting utensils Maggie from the record shop had leant you. There were a lot of options and she had even been kind enough to make you a list of ideas, the only problem was that none of it seemed quite right for Aziraphale and Crowley.

You stared at the felt and the streamers and silently willed yourself to come up with an idea, but nothing happened. Sighing, you sat back with your shoulders pressing against the side of Aziraphale's desk. It was lucky that they were out, the sight of you sitting on the floor surrounded by confetti might raise an alarm. Or perhaps not, you were prone to floor sitting.

You tossed your head back against the leg of the table and the telephone jingled with the bang. Perhaps you should call her and ask for her help, but no, this was your idea, and it would make it even more special if you did it yourself. There had to be something you could make.

Your eyes drifted to a stray bottle of silver glitter and stayed there, staring with such mindless intensity it was a miracle the tension didn't cause the bottle to bust. Miracles. You could use a little miracle of your own right about now.

"Wait," you sat up too quickly, dizzying yourself, and snatched up the little plastic bottle of glitter. "If it's only a small miracle, and one for good, then I can't possibly get in trouble for it. And it's still like I'm making it myself, because I am." A smile stretched wide across your face, and you turned to the plant in the corner, "This is going to be perfect."

Hours later, when Crowley and Aziraphale arrived back at the bookshop, there was a notable difference to the building. That being because the entire inside of the bookshop had turned into a Victorian style ballroom. "Right, well...what's all this?" You beamed at the demon from where you stood in the center of the large room. "Suprise! It's a gift!"

Aziraphale's face went from something sad - which you had luckily missed - to something proud and beaming. "A gift, yes! And, oh, how wonderful!" Crowley didn't look quite as convinced. However, he perked up quite notably when the record player you had been fiddling with started to play Queen's Somebody to Love. You offered a hand to both fellow angel and the demon in front of you, "Care to dance?"

"Why certainly!" Aziraphale answered for the both of them, whatever complaint Crowley had been about to give died in his throat as he was yanked along. As you danced, you made a mental note to thank Maggie for the record next time you saw her. Perhaps you might even thank her with a gift.

|| masterlist || navigation ||

#platonic fanfiction #good omens #aroace #aroace fanfiction #aromantic #arospec #asexual #platonic good omens #good omens x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens x gn!reader #renew good omens #good omens x teen #good omens x kid #ineffable husbands x reader platonic #ineffable husbands x child reader #ineffable husbands x reader #ineffable dads

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flymetosnarryland · 9 months

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GTFO.

Did anyone miss Muggle London like I did? 🙃

This series as a part of "Infraction" has grown incredibly. It helped me understand a lot about things I want to write and made me think about "Infraction" as... well, my first real baby, lol. I wrote one Snarry, "Oblivion" already, but I take that story as testing the waters. I tried to know Harry and Severus, placing them in situation close to, eh, something that happened to me in a way. It means a lot to me and I'm proud of myself that I managed to write a fic from the start to the end.

"Infraction" on the other hand... this one is going to be really FAT piece of work and I'm excited over the moon about it. First chapter and the first part of second already landed on Ao3, but when am I going to finish the next part of it? (If anyone is interested at all, because I personally don't touch unfinished pieces, knowing how it works 🤣)

Well, to be honest, I decided to not rush it. Not because I don't know what to write. The main outline of the story has 40k+ words. It appeared that planning a series of murders is not so easy 😂 especially when the politics are part of it (I mean, Merlin... that's the last thing I thought I will EVER write, lol) and on top of that I have some complicated relationships (or, I suppose, a cherry on molten chocolate cake 🤤). Which makes me shiver and scream, that much I want to jump into writing it again. But the more I am thinking about the plot and fitting everything I need into it (of course writing it down), the more I'm surprised that I am able to figure out something that seems damn complex to me and my three brain cells 😂 I want to be proud of this story. I want it to be... maybe not perfect, but as good as I can see, it can be. And I enjoy the idea of growing as hobby writer. It makes me really happy. Also it's my first serious CRIME story. I know I said before that I always wanted to write crime. I always thought though it's out of my range, you know, I'm too dumb to bring something interesting that other people could possibly like as I do. But with this story I'm trying new things (like bringing Marauders to life), I'm thinking in advance, I'm on both sides: the detective and the serial killer and... GOSH. I really think it will have sense and be worth to waste some time on reading it, lol!

Also there is Snarry AUctoberfest on the way and, you know, I decided I'll try to write something for the fest for the first time! (It's my year of many first times and I really like it!) Funny thing, it appears that my fic for the fest will be a little test to what I want to do with "Infraction." When it occured to me (don't ask how it happen, but the idea I've had in mind turned 180 degree and I couldn't help it! Had to just go for it 😂) I was stunned. But in the same way it's a great opportunity to try new things, see how it will go and how it will work before I'll jump back to my baby.

If anyone checked "Infraction", please don't be mad or sad or... disappointed or angry (?), that I'm not updating it yet. This fic is absolutely my main focus and I'm tinkering and working on it. As for everything, I need time (and probably cut some other projects while I will write it; so less drawing going to be main part of the writing process 🙃 I suppose in the last quarter of the year; except if I'll have my holiday from work!)

Ah, dang. I wrote a lot here, I suppose? Less shite than messy personal stuff, but still something I guess, I wanted to share? Even if I think it's pointless and worthless, because who cares, lol. I'm learning, trying to share, I think. I should, as I wasn't doing it at all and it suppose to help me to... leave the shell of person that other people think I am. Because I grew to be someone irl that I'm really tired of being. Of pretending to be. How stupid it all sounds it's beyond me and I still deny to admit it.

#snarry #Severus Snape #Harry Potter #Muggle London #and some personal nonsense

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emilybeemartin · 2 months

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Just a hello, and thank you for writing!

I found your stuff through your humorous Boromir comics (man those make me laugh, I've shared them with several people) and then when you mentioned you were an author I got excited, and then when you mentioned which of your books you liked best I got even more excited! So I read through Sunshield and now I am reading Floodpath, and I want to say, I really really enjoy your books and writing and I hope you write (and enjoy writing!) a lot more! I have limited time these days but I look forward to when I can enjoy some more of your stories. And please don't hesitate to tell people about the books you have written too! Tumblr is a beautiful place but awfully disjointed, and it's fun to find new authors here. Thanks for putting your stories into the world!

Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you enjoyed Sunshield (and ostensibly Floodpath as you sent me this lovely ask like a hundred years ago, sorry). Self-promo is the worst, so I appreciate the kind words of support, and sure, I'll take the opportunity to say:

If folks have enjoyed my comics or fics, maybe check out my published novels. The Creatures of Light trilogy starts with Woodwalker, which follows an exiled ranger guiding a deposed queen through the wilds to reclaim her throne. The Outlaw Road duology starts with Sunshield, where a desperate outlaw, a sheltered diplomat, and a political prisoner find their paths crossing in a quest to expose a system of corruption.

And if you like my illustrations, take a look at my middle-grade eco-fantasy, A Field Guide to Mermaids. It uses the behaviors, adaptations, and habitats of mermaids to explore real aquatic ecosystems. I like to think of it as a science book with a fantasy veneer.

I'm hoping to have more novel news soon after many months of being stuck in the publishing industry hamster wheel, but the timing on that is anyone's guess. Which is what fan art is for.

#creatures of light #the outlaw road #a field guide to mermaids #woodwalker #ashes to fire #sunshield #floodpath

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choicesficwriterscreations · 3 months

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February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since.

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences.

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp.

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike. 19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far.

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀

20- What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅

21 - What’s your favorite emoji?

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike:

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort.

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple.

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰

#choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #cfwc creator of the month #noesapphic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #february creator of the month #desire and decorum

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wolfspurr · 5 months

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So, I might have lost my mind and decided that being in four teams for this year's @sterekreversechallenges Reverse Bang was a good idea. I wasn't planning on writing two fics, but I saw the art and immediately knew that me and @sugareey-makes-stuff had to work together and the rest, as they say, was history! We pushed it to the wire with the last chance deadline (sorry, and thank you mods!), but somehow (despite a lot of interference from life) managed to get this done, and I'm really proud of what we achieved. We definitely worked for it!

So, here's my final offering for the Sterek Reverse Bang 2023. I hope you all enjoy it <3.

Molten (27896 words) by sugareey, Wolfspurr Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Sterek Reverse Bang 2023, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Kidnapping, Magical Accidents, Accidental Bonding, Spark Stiles Stilinski, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Pack Beta Derek Hale, Idiots in Love, Some Humor, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Sharing a Bed, Meddling, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Frustration, Hand Jobs, Shower Sex, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Creampie, Awkward Conversations, Kissing, Feelings Realization, POV Stiles Stilinski, Digital Art, Illustrations

Summary: "Stiles, is that you?" He recognizes that voice. He doesn’t know why he’s hearing it here though, in whatever cold, dark cave he’s found himself in. The owner of that voice is supposed to be miles away, back home in Beacon Hills. Unless Stiles is the one that’s ended up further from home than he could possibly have predicted. "Derek?!"

Read it Here

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #sterek fic #sterek art #teen wolf #my writing #my fic #eternal sterek #fic #sterek fanfic #fanfic #sterek reverse bang #stiles stilinski x derek hale #stiles x derek #sterek is eternal

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seokjins-luigi · 2 years

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i hate everything about you | pt. 1 | pjm

・pairing: ex!jimin x ex!f!reader

・genre: exes to lovers | a lot of angst | a slightly little bit of a love triangle

18+

・word count: 6.7k

・summary: accidentally, you bump into your ex who, mind you, previously cheated on you. so you're 99% sure the only feeling you have left for him is sheer hate. but the 1% leaves you questioning.

・banner: by the amazing @kookdiaries

・A/N: firstly, i want to wish our baby mochi the happiest of birthdays! i really wanted to have something to post on his birthday, since i couldn't do it for any of our other boys this year ):

i also want to say that i'm really happy/surprised with the huge amount of attention the teaser for this fic got! i felt so inspired, thank you all for taking your time to share it and to talk to me about it too !! <3

i hope you enjoy this first part and i promise i won't take too long to put out part 2! here's a playlist for y'all to play as you read it, if you want to hehe also shoutout to the anon who asked for the black haired jimin header back lol this one's for you

as always, thank you to my fave person @primadonnasdream. without her, i would never be able to write any of my stories.

feedback is always appreciated, sweeties 💜

・permanent taglist: @goldenhoney-cas @yuugehn

・taglist: @imluckybitches @bbtsficrecs @minijagiya @jackinthethroat @arckyive @chimchimmarie @bex-92br @rkvi @hoseok666 @joonsytip @callmejimmeo @koreanaestheticc

There are about eighteen thousand bars in Seoul. You know this because you’ve just googled it. Out of curiosity? Not really. Just because you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that out of all the bars in Seoul, all the eighteen thousand bars in Seoul, Jungkook had to pick the one where your ex is currently working.

Not to blame it on Jungkook, poor guy. There was no way in hell he could know this and you’re sure that if you told him, he’d be crushed, since, according to him, he’s been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for months. To be fair, you didn’t even know Jimin had left his partner, Seokjin, and his own bar to start working behind the counter again. Not that it's any of your business, anyway. He can go to hell for all you care, especially after dumping your ass three days before your four year anniversary for some random girl he met on that stupid fucking bar of his.

That fucking stupid bar he clearly didn’t even own anymore. Joke’s on him.

It broke your heart in a way you’re not sure it’s ever going to heal. He meant the world to you, all that butterfly bullshit and everything. When he left you, it felt like your world was falling to pieces. You shared a life, even shared a home. A small apartment near his stupid fucking bar, you were so happy when you two finally moved in together.

Building intimacy takes time, compromising to someone else’s well being and happiness costs more than only your time. Learning how to share your space, your insecurities, your feelings, your everyday life. That shit takes time. Giving yourself to a person takes more than that. It takes courage.

You gave all of that and much more to Park Jimin. But you regret doing so with every fiber of your being. Learning to live your life again without having him in it was one of the hardest things you’ve had to do so far.

You had your share of revenge after fucking his best friend, Taehyung, and making sure to tell him about it when you went to your apartment to get his stuff back. If you felt like shit, you had to try to make him feel at least one percent of the heartbreak you had been feeling. After that, you heard that he and Taehyung got into a physical fight and had cut ties.

It was definitely not a very peaceful break up experience, both of you were extremely proud people and could not stand losing. It took you a great amount of therapy sessions in order to stop dreaming and thinking about him 24/7.

Do you still believe in love after that? You’re not sure, probably not, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun. Jungkook was a very sweet and flirty distraction in the middle of your heartbreak. Not to mention the guy is hot as fuck, but right now, you swear you could just punch him in the face.

Because out of all the bars in Seoul, here you are. At the one your fucking nasty ex boyfriend works in.

As soon as you walked in, you felt something was off with this one. It felt like the universe itself was trying to spare you from this experience. Of course, you didn’t listen to your intuition, especially because Jungkook told you a friend of his has been talking wonders about the drinks from this specific bar.

Once you looked over at the bar, you saw him. For a split second, you froze. He looked as gorgeous as ever, dark locks obscuring his eyes from where you could see. You didn't allow yourself to feel any type of way with the sight of him, you were over him, you definitely didn't want to go back to the pit where you recently came out of, thank you very much. He was too busy with whatever he was doing at the moment to notice you, fortunately. You just rushed over to Jungkook, locking your arms out of nervousness, leaving him quite giddy about it.

Did you ask him to leave and look for another place to spend the night? No.

Should you have done so? Maybe.

But you wouldn't deny yourself the satisfaction of showing Jungkook off to him in the place Jimin works. It didn't matter that only looking at him made you miss him more than words can ever say, you know that he’d feel pissed out of his mind. You’d deal with your feelings some other time.

“Looks nice, huh?” Jungkook asks you with a sweet smile hanging on his pierced lips, bringing you back to planet Earth.

You nod faintly, showing him a warm smile.

“There's a balcony back there, do you see it?” He asks again, holding your hand now. You weren’t even able to react to Jungkook’s gestures properly, you were too lost in your thoughts about Jimin. “It’s got a very nice view of the city, if anything, we can take some nice photos here. You look hot, by the way”.

“Oh- I- Thanks, Jungkook. You too, by the way”, you tried smirking. “A-Are we getting a table or what?”

You usually don’t get thrown off by his compliments. You love when it happens, of course, but you’re usually good at flirting, you see he gets slightly puzzled as to why would you react like that all of a sudden.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” He asks you, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb, a little concern can be sensed in his voice tone.

“Of course! Why do you ask?” You reply, tilting your head a bit, trying to sound convincingly confused.

You would not simply ruin your date by mentioning your ex boyfriend is the bartender he’s been listening compliments about.

“Nevermind�� Why don’t you go ahead and grab us a spot on the balcony? I’ll do the honors and order our drinks. Any preferences?”

“Surprise me”, you challenge him, squeezing his hand before letting go of it, still trying to hold the confident demeanor he’s used to.

You head over to the balcony, not really looking over at the bar, trying your best to forget about the fact that Jimin was here and could notice you’re here too at any moment. The most annoying thing about this situation is that you’re feeling too nervous about seeing him. Much more than you should be.

So what Jimin is here? You’re over him, remember? Get your shit together. You’re here with Jungkook, enjoy your date.

You try distracting yourself by scrolling on your social media, not really paying attention to anything in particular, just trying to keep your mind away from Jimin. You can’t really understand why you feel almost shaky, maybe that’s how your body reacts to someone you hate.

You only had the courage to look into his direction again when you felt Jungkook was coming back to your table, with a warm expression adorning his beautiful features, holding two drinks in his hands. It would have been the beginning of a nice date, if you couldn’t see Jimin’s eyes shooting daggers in your direction from above Jungkook’s shoulder.

Yes, he’s seen you already. Of course he’s seen you.

Naturally, since you noticed Jimin’s eyes on you, you were simply not able to relax. Jungkook was acting like his normal charming self, completely unaware of what was going on inside your head. You simply nodded whenever it felt like he was waiting for a reply from you.

“Why are you nodding? Did you hear what I said?” He asks you, with an embarrassed half smile, making you feel slightly guilty for not giving him the attention he deserves.

Damn you, Park Jimin.

“Sorry, Kook, I zoned out for a second. What was the question again?”

“I said the restrooms here are amazing and that you should see it”, he repeats himself, pointing to the drink in front of you, he continues. “I need to use the toilet again, by the way, do you want another mimosa?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks”, you reply with a gentle smile, the nicest one you could flash at him.

You honestly liked him. He was a very good person, from what you could tell. Unfortunately, you completely lost the focus on this date, maybe it was your fight or flight instincts taking over your thoughts, but the only thing you could think about was Jimin’s burning gaze on you and how badly you wanted to escape.

You were pretty sure you got over him, he’s your past. That’s a fact. He is past, there’s no other way. The idea that he can look at you like you’re doing something wrong by moving on with your life makes you feel livid, that’s all there is to it.

He’s always had the talent to make everything be about him, but this time around it genuinely pisses you off. This whole situation was actually just a coincidence, he’s the one needing to get over himself.

“So, who’s the idol wannabe?” A voice startles you.

A voice you know all too well.

Following the sound of this voice with your eyes, you contemplate the one and only Park Jimin, the man who cheated on you. The once love of your life. You refuse to allow his presence to affect you in any type of way, though.

“Idol wannabe?” You snort, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Oh, you mean my date? Wow, Mini, you sound so frustrated when you put it like that… Cause, you know, you’re an ex idol wannabe too”.

“Very funny, babe. Who’s the guy?” He jerks his head in the direction Jungkook went, with an authoritative expression on his face.

Like he had any right to be asking you questions about your life.

“What’s that, Mini? A public jealousy display?” You figured the best way to deal with him was by not giving him what he wants.

“Isn't that what you wanted bringing him to the place I work?”

“I can’t believe- Why do you think I care about how you feel or don’t feel, Park Jimin-ssi?” You blurt out, trying to keep your composure as much as possible. The last thing you want is to make a scene. “It’s funny that you think I’d give myself the trouble to make you feel jealous. I didn't even know you left The Wave”.

“And you expect me to believe that?” He cocks his brows, eyes not leaving your face. “You're a character, Y/l/n Y/n-ssi”.

“As I’ve stated before, Park Jimin-ssi, I do not care about anything that’s related to you anymore. I’m sorry if my presence here feels like an insult or whatever, but, you know… You should have moved on with your life by now too”, as you spit these words at him, you see his eyes flickering with an indignation he would not be allowed to lash out the way you know he wants to, because, after all, this is where he works. “So, if you excuse me, my date can come back at any second and I have no interest in letting him know you’re my ex”.

He grimaced, not uttering another word. That is so unlike him, it’s funny... and kind of weird. He has quite the explosive demeanor and you know you were kind of harsh to him right now. You almost feel guilty, but then you remember how humiliating it was finding out about his infidelity.

What he made you go through was way worse.

Placing a Daiquiri glass in front of you on the table, he smirks, but you see his smile does not really meet his eyes, covered by a darker cloak you couldn’t actually explain where it came from.

“Alright, Y/n-ssi. Here’s your drink”, bowing to you, as he takes his leave. “You’re looking as gorgeous as ever. Good luck with your idol boy”.

“Jimin-ssi, that’s not really what we ordered”, you raise your voice tone slightly, just so you made sure he could hear you.

“Oh, I know, babe. But we both know you’re not really much of a mimosa woman”, he answers, the irony lying underneath every single one of the words that came out of his mouth, turning to you again. “I know you very well, unlike your date, apparently. Don’t worry, this one’s a little more expensive, so, it’s on me”.

He blinks at you, turning on his heels again, this time around not taking another glance in your direction again, leaving you with an almost bittersweet taste in your mouth, that only goes away when you see Jungkook’s smile getting near you again.

He sits in front of you again and you honestly don’t understand how you allowed Jimin to get under your skin for even a split second. Jungkook was everything you could ask for a guy to be: stunning, into you and not your complicated ex.

“A daiquiri?” He asks you in a gentle tone, knitting his brows together. “Sorry, I guess the bartender didn't understand what I said”.

“No. It’s fine, I’ve started drinking this one already”, you state.

It’s kind of cute that he paid attention to you to a degree in which he noticed the drink you were having. He’s a sweetheart, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day. You’re not much of a mimosa girl.

“Don't worry, he’s the one who made the mistake… I’m sure he’ll bring you a new one”, Jungkook turns in what you know is Jimin's direction, with his right arm raised, gesturing for him to come over to your table. Then, he turns back to you, with a sweet smile hanging from his pierced lips. “He’s coming”.

Jungkook calling him over was something you simply didn't expect to happen, you didn't have time to react, to think about something to say or for a reason to stop him. You figured you couldn’t have a very strong reaction here, since for all that matters to your date, this guy is just the bartender, not your ex-boyfriend from a relationship that ended really badly.

Naturally, it doesn’t take Jimin more than ten seconds to get to you, and knowing Jimin, he would stop anything he was doing so he could come over and be petty, if possible.

“Can I help you?” You hear his voice, but refuse to turn your head in his direction.

You know he’s looking at you, though.

“We have actually ordered a mimosa, but, maybe there was some confusion, and we ended up getting a daiquiri instead. I was wondering if there’s something we can do about it”, Jungkook had both sides of his mouth turned up in a likeable smile, as he gazed in Jimin’s direction.

You know Jungkook’s niceness would only piss Jimin off even more.

“Oh, yes, the daiquiri. There’s no mistake, actually”, Jimin mimics the smile Jungkook flashed at him, but you know his isn't a heartfelt one. “I think it suits her better than a mimosa. Anything else?”

“I’m sorry?” Your date’s brows snapped together and the niceness in his smile dissolved into disbelief. “How did you come to a conclusion about the type of drink she prefers?”

“Oh, believe me, I know it”, Jimin snapped back, in a controlled tone.

Jungkook’s eyes darted in your direction, kind of looking for some sort of endorsement to what he was saying to Jimin, obviously baffled by the boldness of this guy. He, obviously, didn’t find the same kind of expression on your features. It didn’t take him too long to understand that something was off, in a split second, you saw the realization dawning in his face.

You felt cold to your bones, concentrating on using every single bit of what was left from your self control in order not to run away from this bar and leave both of them bickering over the goddamned daiquiri.

“Well, she seems pleased with your choice of drink”, Jungkook tried, clearing his throat. “Thank you for your service, I guess. Keep up with the good work”.

Jimin bows to Jungkook and then to you.

The atmosphere Jimin leaves behind is so heavy you can almost touch it, you feel the air weighing all around you and Jungkook, who was focused on playing with the napkins on the right side of your table. You open your mouth, but the words just refuse to leave your lips.

You don't even know how to start. What could you possibly say in a situation like that? Most importantly, would you be able to actually explain anything without bursting into tears in front of Jungkook? Not only did you run into your ex for the first time in almost a year, but also he had to come over and make a scene in front of the guy you were seeing.

It was only your second date with Jungkook, after going out for a very nice dinner, in which the two of you couldn’t stop smiling and laughing at each other’s jokes. If only you two had gone two any other of the eighteen thousand bars in this city, you would have never seen Jimin and you’d also not be feeling this terrible uneasiness in your chest.

“So”, Jungkook breaks the silence, but you see he’s still looking at his hands as if those damn napkins were the most amusing thing in the world. “You apparently know each other”.

“We do. But honestly, I don’t really want to get onto this, Jungkook. Sorry”, you confess, not really knowing if you’re angry or simply dejected by this encounter.

Jungkook could have also just not mentioned the fact that it was clear you and Jimin have some kind of history. Why do men have to be so clueless all the time? Honestly, it feels like a curse liking men sometimes. The whole situation was so off putting, you truly just wanted to go home, it didn’t matter Jungkook was hot and the nicest guy ever, Jimin was able to kill the mood for you completely.

You see Jungkook is fighting some sort of internal battle and you feel extremely bad for being the reason behind it.. He had been the sweetest person you had a date with in a very long time. You obviously were not ready to try dating again, Jimin was still all over you, and unfortunately, not only figuratively speaking.

"I'm so sorry for dragging you into this mess", you finally break the silence, making Jungkook look at you again. "I honestly don't feel so good right now…"

"Yeah, I imagined. All I can do is wholeheartedly tell you that it's alright if you wanna go home or something. I don't really know what happened between the two of you, but I can tell something definitely happened", he sympatized and you could tell he was being genuine, not really knowing why, you just saw it in his eyes.

You feel like going home, for sure. Just laying in bed for a couple of hours and crying your eyes out would be the only medicine for this. Maybe, tomorrow after work, you’d need the “best friend plus romantic sad movies combo”, but you’d be alright. Unfortunately, seeing Jimin after this time apart was not as easy as you thought. You just knew that the lump in your throat wouldn't just disappear after installing itself there once again.

Looking deep into Jungkook's eyes, searching for some sort of judgment or resentment, which you do not find, you muster up the strength to be fully honest. If nothing, he deserved it.

"I do want to go, Jungkook", you confess, taking his hand, that rested upon the table, into yours and squeezing it lightly. "I'm really sorry for being a louzy date tonight. I promise I'll try to make it up to you".

"Hey, don't worry…" He says softly. Jungkook squeezes your hand back, but lets go of it and pulls it back, leaving yours hanging on the table by itself. "I have kind of waited a long time to ask you out, but I can wait some more. Date number one was amazing, but we can’t always win. I just want us to have a good time together. I'll let you make it up to me, it's fine".

“I’m really sorry…”

“It’s fine”, he shakes his head, a soft smile hanging loosely on his pierced lips, sounding convincing enough to you. He is genuinely a good person. “But for out next date, you’re the one who should be asking me out. Deal?”

He extends his tattooed hand to you, still beaming at you.

“Fair enough”, you shake his hand back, feeling a little better for his reassurance. “Deal”.

You must be the most stupid person to ever walk this earth and you know it. Losing your chance with a guy like Jungkook is one of the most ridiculous things you've ever put yourself through. But what can you objectively do? You just ran into your ex and it was awful. You just wanted to cry curled up onto your pillows until you forgot, once again, what the sound of Jimin's voice felt like against your ears. You were in no mood for small talk and flirtation anymore. It was better ending the night like this, than being a statue around him, right? And if he said you could make it up to him later, you could really try to.

You know that if you weren't feeling this blue, you'd be embarassed as fuck. Maybe, tomorrow, you will.

Jungkook insists on paying for your drinks, saying that you could pay on the next time. Good to know that he's really counting on a next time and he didn't say it just to be polite before. Fortunately, he doesn't really offer to take you home and you call yourself a car. All you wanted was to be alone with your thoughts for a while.

This whole situation wouldn't be this awful if you didn't feel Jimin's eyes on you the whole fucking time. You knew he was watching the whole scene unravel in front of his eyes with an indescribable delight.

Indeed, he won this time. But you could only hope that this was the only battle he'd win from now on. You needed to find your way back to yourself.

And you will, it’ll just take you a little bit of time again.

The light breeze gently touches your skin, as you feel the warmness of the rising sun delicately kissing your hair. The star emerges from behind the hills, as you stand in front of them, tall and strong, deeply rooted to the depths of the earth.

Suddenly, you hear a very loud noise, sounding like a distant bell. Looking around you, you’re not able to find the source of it. It’s not possible that it’s coming from one of the trees, is it?

You hear it again, this time, longer and more annoyingly depriving you from enjoying this beautiful day out in the meadows.

But then, you realize this is a dream. And as soon as the realization hits you, you wake up. You hate being an occasional lucid dreamer, who wakes up as soon as you notice you’re in a dream. It has prevented you from fulfilling many of your fantasies with your celebrity crushes because you always feel like the scenarios are too good to be true.

Then you hear the unblessed noise that woke you up one more time, noticing it’s been the sound of your doorbell this whole time. Finally finding your phone, after your hands grop on your bedside table looking for it, you see it’s 3:27 in the morning. Why the hell would anyone ring your doorbell in such an ungodly hour?

Well, a burglar wouldn’t ring the doorbell, right? You reason, trying not to freak the fuck out.

The doorbell rings one more time, then you hear what seems to be a muffled attempt at verbal communication. Should you go to the door? Should you call the cops? You have no idea.

It could be one of your neighbors looking for help. What if it was an emergency?

“Mrs. Hong? Is that you?” You blurted, voice a bit shaky from the anticipation.

You hear another muffled response, not really understanding anything this person is saying, but you know it definitely isn’t Mrs. Hong.

Fuck, Y/n, are you stupid? Whoever this is, now they know you’re inside!

You feel your whole body starting to tremble, heartbeat racing as the worst images possible flash through your mind. You want to go back to your bedroom, call the cops and hide under your bed until someone comes to save you from whoever is this weirdo at your doorstep. The sound of your parents’ voice saying you were crazy for moving out of their house to live by yourself echo through your brain and you can feel the tears start brewing in the corners of your eyes when you’re able to distinguish a word from the muffled bumbling from outside your door.

You are positive you heard the person finishing their sentence with a “babe”. Instantly, you feel a warm wave of relaxation invading your body, in contrast with the uneasy feeling you had a minute ago. You know exactly who it is on the other side of your door. Looking at the peephole, you find the exact person you expected to see leaning against your door frame. Park Jimin. A very, very drunk Park Jimin, from what you can see.

Your hand goes straight to the door handle, opening the door with a blunt movement. When he realizes what’s happening, his eyes land on yours and you see them turning into the shapes of small crescent moons, as a smile rests on his plumpy lips.

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack, Jimin-ssi! What the fuck are you doing here?” you bark, watching the smile disappear from his face.

“Sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to scare you! I just want to talk to you and if I’m here, it’s your fault! I could have just called, but you fucking blocked me everywhere”, he pants in a high pitched voice, one he uses when he’s allowing his irritating to take control over him.

“It’s almost four in the morning… You’re clearly drunk… I really don’t want to do this, Jimin”, you state, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Please, get the fuck out of here before you disturb my neighbors too”.

Slamming the door on his face, you turn on your heels towards your bedroom, but before you’re able to walk four steps in its direction, Jimin’s voice can be heard from the inside again. Only this time, he didn’t have his face buried on your door and he was shouting in front of your house.

“Y/n-ssi! I just want to talk to you, pleaseee”, and the there was a knock on your door. “Y/n-ssi! Let me in, Y/n-ssi!”

You feel your blood boiling like magma in your veins, knowing you gave him the perfect weapon to use against you when you mentioned your neighbors. He knows you wouldn’t want these people to talk about you, to talk about the guy who was making a fuss by yelling your name for the whole street to hear in front of your house. You know him and you know that he knows how he plays his games, even when he’s drunk. In a blunt movement, you open the door and grab Jimin by his coat, this time, dragging him inside.

For a second, the two of you just stare at each other. Due to the closeness, you’re able to sense the scent of his cologne, the musky one you gave him on the last Valentine’s day the two of you have spent as a couple. You hate him even more for not getting rid of what’s left of you in him.

“You wanted to talk, didn’t you? So, talk!” You hiss, crossing your arms in front of your chest, feeling the need to break the silence before you did something you’d end up regretting.

He blinks, clearly still mesmerized by the fact that his lousy strategy to get you to do what he wanted worked.

“I saw you left not even five minutes later from that… Well, awkward moment”, he wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly as he speaks. “You got yourself a nice suitor, huh?”

“The moment was awkward all thanks to you!” You fumed, unconsciously raising your pointer finger in his direction. “You asshole!”

“Why am I the asshole here? I just told him the truth!” He stated emphatically, with a flicker in his eyes you were just not able to identify precisely.

You were able to smell the alcohol in his breath, due to the closeness, and you felt even more disgusted to be in his presence.

“After cheating on me, you think you have the right to come back and interfere in my love life?” You whisper, angrily. It feels like the temperature in your house is rising, but you know it’s just your anger making you feel hot on the inside. “What did I do to you, Jimin-ssi? Why do you feel like destroying my life every chance you get? Just leave me alone!”

You see your words have an effect on him and whatever he was about to say, you feel like your words have just stopped him from going on. He sighs loudly and when you were about to kick him out of your house, he starts again.

“Who… Who is he, babe?” He looked down as the question finally left his lips.

You almost missed him, his arms around you, his voice whispering soft words in your ears. You almost allow his vulnerable demeanor to get to you.

Almost, but you know better.

Sighing, just like he did seconds ago, you voiced.

“Why do you even care, Jimin? You have nothing to do with my life anymore, you know?” You run your hands through your hair, nervously, looking away from him for a second. “As I’ve told you earlier today, you should’ve moved on by now, after all, you were the one who chatead. Own up to your mistakes, dear, you’re a grown ass man. And stop calling me babe!”

He looks at you, wide eyed after you snap at him. The fact that after all these months without seeing him, you were finally able to say everything you wanted to say to his face brought you some sort of relief.

“When I saw you today, after all the time we’ve been apart, I realized that's the problem… I have nothing to do with your life anymore. I miss you, Y/n”.

It's so hard to hear him saying those things. Mostly, because, deep down you know you miss him too. It hurts so bad to know that you can never have him back, despite loving him. You'd never be able to truly let go of what he did to you. Acknowledging it was the hardest part, it felt like the lump in your throat just got bigger.

“You can't change that unless you have a time machine”, you said under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

“I can't believe he took this away from me too… Fuck…", he snorts, rubbing his face harshly with both of his hands.”

“What are you trying to say? Who is he?", you ask him impatiently. You would not have him just throwing crazy and riddled information at you at this point. "Are you talking about Taehyung?

“No. It's not about Taehyung. Nevermind", his eyelids drop as he mumbles.

“Really? Is that how shit’s gonna go down? You come to my house to pester me in the middle of the night like you had the right to still be in my life after what you did? And you talk in riddles, like, if there's something I still need to know, now's the only time!” You stop, trying to find the right words to try to get to him as much as he did to you. He didn't move, his eyes were still closed as you spoke. As he made no move, you felt like you could continue. “You know what’s funny, though? I guess if things had worked out with miss thing, you wouldn’t be here right now. So, thank you for showing me you’re just a lonely piece of shit. It's good to know you're in pain too”.

“You still have no idea, do you?” He snorts, mouth agape as he eyed you.

“Oh well, I don't know if I do. Please, enlighten me, Jimin-ssi. Did the illuminati make you cheat on me or something?"” Scorn spewing out of your words.

He looks at you once more, his eyes burning with longing. It just made your blood boil even more inside of your veins.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I can’t even say how all of that broke my heart in, like, one million pieces”, he whimpered lowly, his head down as the words left his lips, not really entertaining your mockery.

You snort.

“How all of that broke your heart? Have you considered that if you had not cheated, we’d still be together? Have you thought about how all of that broke my heart?” You poke him angrily on his chest, feeling the unwelcome misery settling once more in your chest once you heard Jimin’s words. “It was all your fault, Jimin! If we’re not together right now, it's your fault! You broke my heart!”

You vomit all those words at him, holding back the years with every single bit of strength left in you. His eyes travel up to meet yours as you spoke, Jimin’s features are clouded by something you can’t quite name. Is it regret? It must be, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Maybe he’s genuinely sad about it too, but it honestly doesn’t matter. Or maybe there was really something he was trying to tell.

Whatever it is, hee deserves to deal with it on his own. You don’t have to allow him to drag you back to the hole of pain you were able to come out of, very recently, by the way.

“You’re right, Y/n-ssi. It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have come here, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sighs, running his hands through his dark locks that fell to the sides, looking partially messed, in a very attractive way. “Again, I’m sorry. For everything. Maybe, someday-”.

“Yeah, sure. It doesn’t matter anymore”, you cut him short. You just can’t do this anymore, you can’t listen to him whining. Not without bursting into tears and you definitely didn't want to cry in front of him.

On the other hand, the attraction you feel for him, right now, standing before your front door, his features barely lit by the only source of light coming from your bedroom behind you. You hate him for still looking great, for still messing with you, for still being the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You hate yourself too for feeling like that about him, after all this time.

“Is… This guy. Is he nice to you?” He breaks the silence, his voice as soft as feather touch against your ears.

“He’s just a guy, Jimin. But just stop… Stop asking”, you mutter. “Please, just go”.

He nods, still gazing at you with his magnetic dark eyes.

“I hope you know this”, he points to himself and to you, as he jerks his head in your direction. “Us. Me being here. It means I still have very strong feelings for you. Very strong feelings I can’t control, I guess”.

“I don’t wanna know, Jimin-ssi. Really”.

“I’m sorry, but by the way you still look at me… I’m sure there's still something there. Maybe you’ve done a nice job locking it away, but I know it’s still there”.

“I don’t-”, you stop yourself, and turn to him with a louder tone. “Just fucking go!”

The control you had over yourself so far was gone, you just want him out of your sight. Hopefully, out of your mind too.

When it finally seemed like he was ready to leave, he turned to you once more, gazing intensely into your eyes. Before you had the chance to tell him the get the fuck out for the last time, he had his arms around your waist and his lips found yours; hungrily.

His kiss was exactly the way you remembered. Intense. Passionate. Breathtaking. Right. It just felt like home. His tongue pursues yours in a fervent twirl and your tongue corresponds in the same intensity. His hand travels upwards, resting on the nape of your neck, spreading a pleasurable warm sensation where it touched.

He pins you up against the wall, his lips not leaving yours for a split second. He pressed his body against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck, enclosing any space that could be left between your body and his. He felt so warm against you and the way his touch felt against your skin made it impossible for your brain to think about anything other than the right now and how much you longed for him.

“I’ve missed this”, he said softly, his plumpy lips against yours. “So much”.

He presses his lips against yours once more, but now you realize you can taste the soju on his tongue. Then, you come to your senses.

You’re missing your drunk ex-boyfriend in the middle of the night. This is the man who cheated on you. The man who made a fool out of you and didn’t give a fuck about your feelings. You swore you wouldn't allow him to touch ever again. Here you are, breaking your own promise. Worse part is, maybe he won’t even remember anything that was said or done when we wakes up tomorrow.

In an instinctive impulse, you push him as hard as you can, trying to create as much distance as possible from Jimin. You don't face him long enough to know what happens to him, besides the confused look on his face after forcing him away from you.

“Jimin-ssi… Just get the fuck out of my house”, you start babbling, but trying to control the wobbliness in your voice.

You hate yourself for being so weak, all it took him was a kiss and you almost dropped all the defenses you’d worked so hard to build up.

“Y/n, just hear me out, please… I wanna tell you everything”, he cried out, his somewhat wobbly voice coming from behind you.

“Jimin, please!” You murmur, imploring. “Just leave me alone.

And there was silence. It felt like time had stopped, you just focused on not allowing the weight on your chest to take over you. You don’t know how long it takes, but you hear your front door being slammed, then all you could do was allow yourself the tears you were holding back to roll down your cheeks in an attempt to release this pain from your chest.

part 2

#jimin angst #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin series #jimin smut #jimin au #bts fanfiction #bts fic #exes to lovers #jungkook fluff #love triangle #bts series #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jimin fic #i hate everything about you

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wannawritefast · 6 months

Text

Poise

A/N: Here she is. Seriously Aro is wicked fun to write and as I told Vas (@vasiktomis) reader/MC kinda ripped the reins from my hands. Is she (as in reader/MC) a lil coo coo bananas? Yes. Did she stretch my abilities as a writer? Yes. Were there times that I agonized over a singular word choice for an embarrassing amount of time? Oh yes. A lot of firsts in this fic for me as a writer. Very proud of myself. Thanks for reading. Also I'm so unserious about Aro. No funky aesthetic gif for this one. He's simply too silly. I also post all my stuff on both Tumblr and AO3. Same handle!

Pairing: Aro Volturi x F!Reader

Words: 6.6k

Warnings: gore (consider yourself warned), implied intimate partner abuse in flashbacks, death (no major characters), arachnophobia, reader has powers having to do with nightmares and is crazy, so is Aro, it’s the Volturi you kinda know what you’re getting into

Summary: After taking matters into your own hands, you swear never to be weak a day in the rest of your eternity. The Volturi can help with that.

“What I am left wondering is why you have suddenly found yourself in want of membership to the Volturi. You denied us quite emphatically those many years ago.”

“I was under a year into my immortality, Caius. You must forgive the blunders of my youth.”

Indeed, that many years ago you had declined their invitation. But that was when you still had your youthful fire about you. In so many years you had traded it in for temperance.

Still Caius narrowed his eyes from the platform. Only two of those splendiferous thrones were occupied at the moment -- a naked helm. Heidi had assured you that Aro was well on his way. That had been 3 minutes ago when Caius had decided to put you on trial for no other reason than him not being present.

Marcus watched on with those ancient eyes. They must have always looked old, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t imagine Marcus’ eyes looking any younger than time itself. And Caius’ eyes -- well… Very well. You’d let him enjoy this silly little power trip. There was something of a cruel smile lifting the edge of his lip.

“I have the time to hold a grudge.”

“Have you nothing better to do with eternity than harbor petty anger? My, my, you truly do not play well with others.” Your eyes drifted to Marcus. “Have you nothing to say, old friend?”

“We are hardly old friends.”

You rolled your eyes, settling your attention back to Caius. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall speak no more until Aro arrives.”

“Why? Are you frightened?” He taunted. Bait, that’s all it was…

“Are you?”

The doors behind you swung open heavily, like a final breath. Four sets of heeled shoes struck the marble. You did not turn even as Jane and Alec walked close on either side of you, like eels as they glided up the platform standing in the background.

Heidi didn’t even so much as brush past you to go out a side door. It was an unusual occurrence to demand entrance into the Volturi especially when a previous invitation had been so rudely turned down. You were certain a number of the vampires along the walls with you were there simply to see what demise would befall you for such insolence.

The fourth set of boots slowly walked up to the direct back of you. There was no body heat to speak for Aro but you knew it was him. The eyes of all the people in the room suddenly on you could not mean anything else.

“Did you receive a warm welcome?” His voice hit the back of your head and it was no louder than a lover whispering their intentions.

You straightened, your eyes piercing Caius where he stood. “Something like that.”

Aro finished the pace around you. “You are very brave to have come here.” His eyes scanned the walls. He was looking to see if it was true that you had come alone.

“I was hoping it might be rewarded.”

“Hope…” He tasted the word. “Now that’s a word I have not heard in a good while.”

Half of a smile spread across your face. “You’re welcome.”

“Hm.” Aro looked you up and down, amused, before continuing his path to his throne. The three men on the platform finally sat. “And I… well, perhaps I should not assume a thing. Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”

The blonde vampire stole the silence from you. You couldn’t help but think that the angelic color was wasted on him. He would be blonde. “Foolish girl, she’s changed her mind!”

“Caius, I did ask her to tell, did I not?” Aro only dignified the man with a slight turn of his head. He set his jaw and sunk back into his throne a little. Aro’s hand gestured for you to continue.

“It is true,” you responded. As much as it pained you to soothe Caius’ temper via agreeability you were not above it especially now. “I would like to petition for entry to the Volturi.”

The laugh of all the vampires in the room made it all the more funny, you supposed. Even Marcus’ perpetually morose eyes tilted up as he chuckled.

Aro only smiled. “Now my dear…”

“I am aware of my past petulence-”

“Ooh, that was not petulence,” he corrected you, leaning forward. “Petulence is far too generous. You were rude.”

You gulped. It was true. You had been rude those 200 years ago. Very rude.

Aro continued. “I believe you said… what were the words you used…?”

Marcus cleared his throat. “Allow me. ‘The Volturi are a semblance of order. Their actions are a colossal mimicry of law and the leaders are just as big of fools for as long as they stand if they believe that their offers of entry are anything more than an identification of spinelessness in the subject if they accept such a thing.’” Curse him for his memory. “Something like that.”

His really good memory.

The helmsman of the Volturi raised his brows at that. “Your recollection is pristine, Marcus. My goodness, such scathing words… I had forgotten.”

“‘Go to hell, you greedy fucks’ too,” Caius added, that hint of a cruel smile earlier was now a complete grin. “Can’t forget that either.”

“That last one was not me actually.” A glower from the blonde vampire. “My sire, rest his soul-” I hope he is eternally suffering, “-should be properly credited for that.”

There was a chuckle from all three on the platform, even Jane smiled a little. Although it was better than how you had begun it still was not a good sign.

“Yes, rest his soul.” Aro tilted his chin up. “Whatever did happen to him?”

A test. Aro knew what had happened. Everyone in the room knew what had happened. Or they knew a version. “My coven at the time… handled him and went our separate ways.”

It was not a lie.

“Yes, I suppose you did handle it.” Aro remarked. “It was startling to hear about, just like that, ripped limb from limb by your coven.” He didn’t trust you. Why would he?

You swept up the steps before him and wordlessly knelt, reaching a hand up. A young woman reaching her hand up to a young man, both centuries old. Jane and Alec stepped forward in warning, flanking Aro’s throne. Your eyes flitted between them. An impasse. Still you kept your hand outstretched to Aro who had taken a small step forward in your approach. Your eyes landed back on him. Please.

Aro regarded you coolly; it was colored by something else though. Intrigue. Curiosity. Hunger. The last time Aro had read you had been 200 years ago; you had so much less control then. You remembered him snatching his hands away from yours as your nightmares, or rather his, had sloppily tumbled toward him while he flitted through your memory. Two horrible truths slamming into one another -- a mutual bruise, the two of you. Your talents were similar, all thing considered.

“You can look,” you whispered up at him. “I am better at this now.”

Something of a warm smile dawned on him, if indeed Aro could ever be described as warm, as he crouched down. His red, milky eyes bore into yours and then, gently, one of his hands tucked under your palm and the other covered your knuckles. You bridled the lightning fast nightmares as the man pushed forward.

Just like the first time it had happened, it felt like nothing more than the pad of a thumb releasing held pages as they rushed for the cover of a book. Aro flicked through two centuries of life in ten seconds, his eyes darting between yours as he passively consumed.

The story had to begin with the truth that covens did not turn on each other. In technicality it was not that it had turned on itself -- just all against the self-declared leader who held all of you in a vice-like grip. You refused to even give him his name in your memory, yet another way to kill him back in a way that truly mattered.

His inclinations of you showing abilities upon your turning were unfortunately well-guessed. You cursed your sire for the rest of your days for his early but ultimately rare stroke of clairvoyance. With time you would learn that he was no stranger to fear as a weapon either.

Aro pushed forward, unreadably neutral. The memory of the first time you ever used your abilities somersaulted through your consciousness. You had gone well beyond the bounds of the perimeter that had been set for you by your captor. It was direct disobedience to your sire’s orders and the vampire passing through never saw it coming. The spooking they had done you was a complete accident. Their intentions to take the human body you were feeding on, however, were undeniably loaded with malice.

You had only intended to shoot them a glare but something about the tense moment, about them approaching you with a hand reaching out to what was in yours… that’s what started it. You heard it first, an impossibly low thunder like something far beneath the earth pushing its way up; they heard it too. Your crouch was something feral when you did it and the nightmares that crashed into that poor vampire tumbled into your mind too. To that though you were a spectator, privy to the innermost workings of what horrified that particular individual.

Tense shoulders, a talon-like grip taking control of your hands, a furrowed brow. Your eyes snapped shut; while the nightmares were never your personal bane they hardly offered any comfort. You saw it all. It would be the first of many in the coming eternity.

Their shrinking hands slashing and clawing through phantom blood, unable to cup it, unable to consume any of it in a vicious bout of craving. Frantically pressing themselves into the ground as the endless blood on the ground began draining into the soil. They were withering by the second. It didn’t matter to the vampire that it was utterly ridiculous.

The vampire before you, the real version, collapsed to the ground; you heard it, like a snare cutting through reverberating bass. You didn’t open your eyes until their breath came out in pants, as if they were suffocating on too much air. And it stopped. Just like that. An end to the focus ending their nightmare.

Aro cocked his head, continuing to read you. In hindsight, you wished you had cut and run right then. You would have had a head start. Your sire wouldn’t have caught you in the few moments he had made the mistake of leaving you alone. From that moment on, he forced you to be at his side. You remembered the berating you had gotten for your disobedience that followed after his wide-eyed realization that you could do what you had done to the weeping vampire.

With that, you became the prize of the coven; it was your abilities that afforded your sire his longevity. He made you play with his food sometimes; asking what you saw as you screwed your eyes shut. You told yourself it was from the effort. In truth it was not any harder than flicking down a wooden block had been in your mortal youth.

No, you strained with the wretched knowledge that the only thing you really had a knack for was holding out a mirror. The beastly things you saw -- what frightened the most deplorable of individuals. It was sick; in every horrid vision you churned out, you saw the inner workings of the mind, of the filthy things that these monsters had done in their conscious lives. The worst thing about your abilities was that the most frequent nightmare you bore witness to was them getting what they had deserved. Revenge. Balance. Order. Justice.

It was true. Yours and Aro’s gifts weren’t really that different. You saw a lot, possibly too much of whoever had the poor luck of encountering your proficiencies.

And, oh, how your sire had loved your gift. It was precious, he said. You recalled a time he had even called it artistry. It was after you used it, after you saw the depravity of human and vampire kind that he cradled your head between his heavy hands. You learned to savor the moments where he wasn’t throwing them around. And during those times when you deeply pleased him by what you were able to do, you saw him bloat with the intoxication of power. It would be many years until you really used your gift but it took little guesswork to know then what he feared: the loss of control -- the loss of you. Motivated by pride he kept turning others, stopping at the fifth of your covenmates when he realized that he had really only lucked out on his first try -- also, you.

That was when you had been initially approached. Your sire had never once received so much as a greeting from the Volturi; he never let you forget how bitter it made him. Unfortunately, his hold on you also included passing down his opinion. By the time the Volturi got to you, you had been spoiled against them. Only time would truly tell whether you would be forgiven for it.

At this moment, though his red eyes were set on you, Aro wasn’t really looking though -- not the present-you anyways. It was subtle, the way his brows and lips fluttered up and down as if fighting his own desire to respond. His expression sobered briefly.

You had spent centuries with the man, your sire… he was brutal. Even you were not immune to his rage. Each of your covenmates were strong in their own rights but none of you were singularly stronger than him. The Volturi’s arrival and immediate departure was one of the worst days of your life. You remembered holding one of your sisters, the sixth, the youngest, after it all. She begged you to stay and endure with her. And for two hundred years the two of you, all of you kept that promise to each other.

It had been one too many cruel moments when the dam broke. It was the moment that all of you realized that while you were too individually weak, he couldn’t handle all of you. You did the honors of the inaugural blow -- undoing him with nightmares of his own demise as it came to fruition. It was the only time in all of your years of using your abilities that you hadn’t clenched your eyes shut and shrunk away. No, that time… that time you had leaned forward, eyes unblinking as you watched him writhe in fear before what was left of him was instead writhing in pain. It was easy, like dropping a heavy bucket with little care of what happened to its contents.

As Aro dug, it was only then that you realized you smiled when you’d done it. It was funny, you supposed, that your sire’s worst fear had come to pass right as it transpired just moments before in his mind. The six of you, your five covenmates and yourself, tore him to shreds. No blood that you had tasted or would ever taste compared to the delicious freedom of his eternal rest. He died, truly died, afraid. He deserved worse.

It was short-lived though. After centuries of subjugation, the sudden freedom was a blessing and a curse and not a single one of you could really agree on what to do except to leave. It was devastating in the same way you would see the final struggle of a living thing fighting off its final moments before succumbing; they were certainly in a better place. Two of them went on their own. The other three traveled together elsewhere. At the end of it you found yourself alone and not wanting to be weak again a day in your life.

While the rebellion had been justified, it was an overthrow of power, something especially dangerous in the halls of Volterra and you had been the ring leader. After all, you were the only one in the group with a talent.

Aro rose to his feet, gently tugging you up with him. “Now that does complicate the narrative, doesn’t it…”

Your eyes flickered to Caius who was in turn staring him down. “Oh, come off it, Aro. You are not honestly considering letting her in.” He stalked up to where the two of you were standing. You looked up at both of the men, still a step below. “The Volturi do not give second chances!”

“If I may, I am not asking for a second chance.” Bold… This was bold of you… “I am petitioning for membership on the grounds that it was offered once before. Your opinions of me have not changed since the initial offer.”

“Yes, they have.” Caius spat.

“Mine haven’t,” Aro confirmed. “Although I wouldn’t be so sure that is a good thing.”

Bright red eyes bore down as you finally pulled your hand from his grasp. His fingertips brushed along your knuckles before his hands lowered in kind. Him looking through your mind just moments prior felt less invasive. You directed your attention instead to the less intense of the two.

“We should have killed you the second you walked in here.”

Very well. “If it is an apology you want I will give it.” Your eyes were locked on Caius, pure impudence meeting unbridled sadism. You knew it drove him crazy.

“Foolish girl-!”

“I am sorry!” You snapped at him. The words came out more like ‘shut up.’ They were just as effective though. Caius stood silent although the sneer was still on his face. Of course that would do it for him. You knew it. It was disgusting. Oh, how he loved seeing people grovel. The hate in that man’s heart…

You suddenly remembered yourself. Aro had seen that -- your distaste for Caius, your willingness to do anything to be a member of the Volturi, your deep regret that your sire had influenced you to be so brash. That was one of the worst things your sire ever did: convincing you that his opinions were yours.

“I will repeat to you what I said to you earlier. Forgive me for the insolence of my early days. It was unwise of me to have behaved in such a way… and-” You were practically choking on your apology, uselessly panting with the effort. Admittance that you were wrong had a bad mouthfeel, especially after decades being forced to do it. “-and I was wrong about all of it. Consider me corrected.”

If Caius had been biting back any of his cruel amusement before, he certainly wasn’t hiding it now. Marcus was now standing closer having meandered nearer during the course of the apology. And Aro… Aro had the most curious of soft smiles on his face.

You were beginning to think you had made some kind of mistake coming here. You had laid almost all your cards bare. You had shown them you were desperate which was far worse than just being desperate. This was something you were going to have to amend for a good while if they accepted you. That you begged to be let in.

“I am satisfied,” Caius remarked, eyes settling on Aro. They were standing over you, all three of them.

Some days ago you had come across a rat moments before it was devoured by three street dogs in an alleyway on your journey to Volterra. It must have looked like something like this to that rather unfortunate vermin, you thought to yourself.

Your head dropped in complete and utter humility, eyes only on the marble underfoot. Even the pristine stone was too good for you… You had been at the mercy of the three men before you since you set foot in this dreadful place. It was only at that premature moment you still had an ounce of pride in your body. It was far gone now.

“Marcus?”

“I am satisfied.”

“As am I.” Cold smooth fingers tucked under your chin. Aro’s. You must have looked something pitiful. “And this-” Aro tutted at you, lifting your face up. “-we will work on this.”

The gesture might have been kind, intimate even, if it was anyone but Aro. You didn’t really trust him as far as you could throw him but you knew enough in having seen his nightmares many years ago that he would not tolerate an ounce of self-deprecation in a vampire beyond paying their due respects to the Volturi, to him. He had seen quite enough from you. That much was true.

“Yes… sir?” You tested the title. You weren’t quite sure what to refer to him as.

Aro’s face took on something of a delighted expression. “Look at you using your manners. See, Caius; she learns.” The blonde vampire rolled his eyes. “I do appreciate it but ‘Aro’ will do just fine.”

Ah. Well, that was embarrassing. You nodded affirmatively. Marcus’ eyes flicked from Aro to you and back before he returned to his seat. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jane smile something wicked.

“We shall get you new attire, especially now that you will be joining the guard after some fine-tuning, but there’s no sense in putting you in anything of the sort since we’re coming up on-” The side doors swung open and Heidi led in a group of tourists who were guffawing at the ceiling. Aro’s hands flew up like a child prince being brought an expensive present. In a sense, it was -- “-dinnertime!”

Oh, so this was how they fed. Aro steered you to the side and behind him with a hand clamped around your upper arm. Heidi sidled up to you.

“Welcome to the Volturi.”

“How did you know?”

“You are still in one piece.” Fair.

Aro leaned over to you. “Now, next time you will join your compatriots along the wall but tonight we will make an exception -- something of a welcome gift…” He extended his arm to the group of mortals before you who were clicking pictures of the room. Like fish in a bucket… or however the expression went.

You raised a brow at him.

“You first, my dear.”

A vampire along the wall by the name of Felix bobbed on his feet, antsy. You smiled and launched off the platform for the human before you. The both of you rolled together as you slammed him into the ground. Only his limbs flailed clumsily. Yours had been a vision of centuries of practice. A trained killer.

You bared your teeth. He screamed. Humans…

Wandering aimlessly about the grounds, such expansive ones at that and with such independence, was novel to you. You weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself; it was beautiful. Just months ago you had been sequestered to your corner of the world, never to go beyond a painfully small perimeter. And now here you were… surrounded by the most powerful of your kind. Nearly unrestricted access to the grounds. New clothes. Fresh blood, not whatever your sire didn’t finish. Eyes never black with hunger. The respect you got as a tentative member of the Volturi guard. It was new.

And the Italian air. Sure, you didn’t really need to breathe at all. There wasn’t a function to smelling it. But the air… The breeze in Volterra was something fresh, warm, earthy, sweet, like blood. It was even more perfumy at night.

Something about the years of being on edge, even as an immortal, still ran through your veins, through the very way you functioned. Even in your most relaxed moments, you could recognize when you were being followed. And someone was following you.

You stopped in your tracks, only peering over your shoulder.

A fraction of you thought to yourself -- how odd… Aro should’ve been better at this. Then you realized two things. The first was that if Aro was truly aiming for discretion in whatever he was about to do, there was no reason for it to be him here and now. The second was that it was also entirely possible that Aro simply didn’t care that you knew he was there… or, in fact, did want you to know. Your curiosity was a helpless one; you must’ve looked like a cat.

“I was wondering when you were going to catch on.”

Only the trees in the garden obscured him from you, not the darkness. “How did I do?”

Silence as he rounded the corner. Black suit. Red eyes. Dark hair slicked back. You let him approach until he was a pace away, slowly continuing. “Ten seconds before you caught me… there are a good many vampires who would have gone much longer if noticing me at all.”

“Will you subtract a moment or two since I contemplated not acknowledging you?”

“Hearsay.”

“Only if you have the ability to corroborate and don’t.” You held your hand out to the side toward him, stopping in your tracks.

Aro only looked at it from the side of his eye, not even stopping. He did grace you with a smile though. “I should like to keep my victory unnegotiated.”

Ah, yes… the cat walking next to whatever you could call it that killed it. You closed the distance with a few long strides, now playing catch up with him. “You were loud.”

“I was not aiming for stealth.” If Aro was trying to humble you, it was working.

“And what was your target then?”

Silence again. It was comfortable. In time you came upon your favorite spot in the gardens — the point at which you could overlook the better portion of the town. It was beautiful -- quiet and empty for the most part at this time of night but the evidence of mortality there, living and dying… well, you still found it charming.

“Would now be the appropriate time to thank you?”

“For heaven's what?”

“For…” You finally looked at him beside you. He wasn’t looking at you; perhaps he was gazing beyond this little enclave in Tuscany. “For your hospitality.”

“Hospitality is for guests.”

“I was a guest for a small while.”

“You were more of a defendant.”

“Well, then, I thank you for your arbitration.”

“My ‘arbitration’?”

“Yes.”

Aro exhaled for the show of it. “Do stop your simpering and get on with what you mean.”

You were speechless.

“I didn’t say ‘shut up,’ did I?”

You blinked at him. “I suppose… I am grateful to be somewhere nicer.”

“I can hardly be thanked for your decision to come here.” He still refused to regard you. You imagined it was a rare thing for Aro to resist such expressions of the kind. He was a proud man after all. You looked back out at Volterra.

Aro finally turned his eyes to you. It was a withering look. Now that you obliged. “I saw quite a bit in that mind of yours. It is such a shame that you were thoroughly convinced of such horrible things.”

You were confused. “The only thing that I was convinced of was inferiority.”

“Like I said,” he snipped. “Horrible things.”

“Now how is that horrible,” you inquired. Surely this did not bother him personally. Aro did not strike you as the type. “I do you no injury in my lack of pride.”

“And you think it is good for the Volturi’s reputation, for the guard’s reputation to have but one who thinks themselves lesser than even humans?” Aro seemed to shudder at the ‘h word.’

Oh. There it was. He was right. Your head lowered.

He tilted your chin up for the second time. It wasn’t as gentle. This time it was a scolding. Aro was not pleased. He released it looking back onto the town. “And you must stop that. It’s unbecoming.”

It was lost on you how to respond. “Sorry.”

“Already forgiven, my dear.”

“I guess… I just want to thank you for taking a chance.”

Aro scoffed and looked at you fully. He wasn’t a tall man; his height was hardly what made him intimidating. What made him intimidating was the stature with which he carried himself, the raw power, the hunger, the intelligence. A man like him hadn’t gotten to where he was without some impressive cunning.

“I might find low esteem from my subordinates satisfactory on the usual occasion. I will not mince my words -- on you it is a most distasteful thing. I will forgive its ugliness for its reaffirmation but only for a time.”

If there was any functional air in your lungs, it would’ve been snatched from you. His words were not harshly spoken nor were they loudly boomed at you. Instead they broke skin like something sharp to vulnerable flesh. Aro took an imposing step forward. You took one back but it wasn’t enough. Your neck was craned up at him despite every inner instinct to shrink away; you wouldn’t dare disobey him again. You weren’t sure he would be as kind.

“There is nothing so abhorrent as one of our kind — our superior, beautiful kind — acting in the embarrassing way you continue to. If I was capable of emptying my stomach at the thought, I would.” Aro plucked something minute off your shoulder before rolling it between his long fingers and discarding it to the wind. “And as far as taking a chance is concerned, I- The Volturi- do not ‘take chances.’ Make no mistake, there is no calculated risk with you being here.”

“I-”

“If that is an apology or another meaningless expression of gratitude poised on your tongue, I would advise that you hold it there.”

You could only gape up at him. He was leaning over you still, very close.

“You will show the full extent of your gifts tomorrow. I want you officially in the guard as soon as possible.” And with that, Aro was gone, stalking away into the gardens.

With about 12 hours to ruminate on Aro’s words to you, you had decided that he had a flair for melodrama. You also decided definitively that you would never let him know such a thing unless he pried the information from you, which he was indeed capable of. This… what you were being made to do before the Volturi… You would not define it with such levity. When Aro had said that you were to display the full extent of your gifts, he had meant it.

It wasn’t certain whether it was you or the man writhing on the ground that was the subject of the gripping fear that your nightmares brought, what with your upper body being curled in on itself the way it was. Your fingers were curled at the ends of your locked arms with effort. The unfortunate human’s whimpers rattled along the domed ceiling, merely an accessory to the deep hum in your ears.

There was an exaggerated yawn from behind you — showy for a vampire — Jane’s. And a voice cut through the whole of it, halting your powers immediately. “No, no. That won’t do at all.”

Because you had already been shrinking away at the time of the interruption you needed only to open your eyes. The body thudded to the floor. Relief. It wouldn’t last. Aro was shaking his head as he leaned against his throne.

“You, my dear-” he pushed off his spot and stopped just behind you “-are holding back.”

The man, as far as you could tell, was only deeply phobic of spiders. It was how you had done it the dozens of times you’d done it before. Except for…

Out of the corner of your eye, Caius held a finger to his temple, rolling his eyes. Asshole… Aro’s voice pulled you back. “Try again.”

You clenched your eyes shut, your chest coiling up in kind. The man began wheezing almost instantaneously, the only sound in the room.

“No.” Aro cut in once again and you dropped focus. You turned to face him, your muscles loosening in the way that only annoyance could make them. His red eyes glimmered back at you. “That is not what I meant. Again.”

You huffed. You’ve done it once before, his face seemed to say. Who were you kidding… that was exactly what his sharp features said. When you had channeled that much power, you had been in an entirely different state of mind. That had been the raw rage you had buckled behind survival. All you had done was suddenly unleash it. You weren’t certain that you still had it in you. “Aro. I can’t-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Nonsense. His hand straightened to a point — the human, once more.

You faced more of your body, still tense, eyes clamping shut. Your arms locked to your sides and you willed the fear forward before you tensed — thunder in your ears. Your muscles reacted in pure instinct, the man weeping in perfect time. Despite the overwhelming physical sensation of pushing the abstract forward, you could feel Aro behind you. It was stronger this time.

Oh, the man wasn’t just afraid of spiders.

Between the spiders, flickering amidst the impossible number of angular legs and blinking sets of eyes, the insects that dribbled into every corner of his vision, there was something else. A girl with one dark eye and a knife. She was young.

You jolted backward, knocking briefly against Aro. If he minded he didn’t indicate any such sentiment. Your lip curled into a sneer. The human… he was pleading with a higher power that was certainly not listening if it was there at all. Pathetic.

When your eyelids closed this time they didn’t tighten. It was a flutter. And this time when your muscles tensed, you trembled. Where there was air between the clawed fingers at your side, you imagined the man’s fleshy neck. This… this was righteous. The girl began closing in, spiders skittering out of her path.

Aro’s voice brushed your ear. “May I?” You nodded your head, although you weren’t certain as to what exactly you were agreeing to. Aro would not harm you; you were sure of it.

It felt like a baptism. In a way it was. Feather light, Aro’s fingers ghosted first at the base of your neck, gently pulling the muscles out to your shoulders. In the touch you were acutely aware that it wasn’t intimacy that Aro was after; he was honing you. Your nightmares were only encouraged.

Aro’s hands smoothed over your shoulders with a quiet mastery -- tender in the way a sculptor guided pliable clay between their fingers as it spun at their behest. The harshness was gone with but a swipe.

The man bellowed. He sounded now more of a screeching animal than man. The girl picked up her pace, almost a jog. The knife winked at him.

It turned into a full grasp as Aro traveled down your biceps, tugging the astriction out. He chased the natural form of the muscle down your elbows into the joint of your wrist. The rigidity in your fingers released at the pressure he placed there -- conjoined in poise.

You pushed a stronger assault of terror forward to meet the man. Long gone were the spiders. There was a small part of you that recognized that he wished for the insects instead of the young girl with a bruise ready to bury the knife in his chest, his stomach, anywhere the business end would find purchase. She was standing over him.

He screamed. Yes, ‘scream’ was the right word for it…

You spectated his nightmare; the girl with the dark eye had already started plunging her blade into him. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Aro’s hands shed themselves from your arms but only for a moment. Your chin bloomed with the familiar feeling of his fingers, turning it and angling it upright. Proud as it was meant to be.

He whispered again. “Look.” It was a gruesome sight.

The possibility that the man had begun gouging out his own eyes the moment Aro had begun amending your posture was a good one. If that was the case he had indeed made decent progress. The man was on his knees and his left eye hung from its socket like a generous helping of hot cheese, swinging. You almost wanted to applaud the man’s zeal. Only a desperate rodent would have done what he had. His grubby fingers pushed into his own skull again, getting around the other eye, bemoaning his self-inflicted plight. He seemed to be chewing the air. There was viscera on the marble -- not the first time it had been so defiled and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Still, you didn’t relent; you had never extended your power this far. God, why hadn’t you done it before… Sure, you- no, he had taken his eyes but somehow it wasn’t enough. The young girl brandishing the blood-soaked knife was still angry. This was justice. And he hadn’t yet paid in full.

He howled, writhing.

Marcus approached at the very edge of your vision. “Aro… is this-?”

He was halted by an upheld hand, the other slowly falling from your chin. Aro watched you as you watched the man, watched his nightmares.

“We needn’t toy any longer.”

The thunder in your ears rumbled to silence. “This is toying? If you saw what I saw, you’d know…”

Marcus seemed taken aback. You weren’t sure if it was because of how true your words were or how right they sounded coming from your mouth.

You drifted back to the man. “He deserves it.” Your voice came out no louder than a whisper.

“It’s alright, Marcus. We asked for an assessment-” The ensuing squelch and sudden cry indicated the man had found success on his second endeavor. “-and we have indeed received one.”

You found Aro’s eyes with yours.

There was something of an assuaged smile -- his bright teeth wolfish. The feeling of your cheeks pulled up was the only sign to yourself that you had been smiling. You took the moment to look about the room. Caius was staring at the man on the floor, mouth slightly ajar.

“Well?”

He turned his head first then his eyes. A grin.

You beheld the grotesque body with a sneer. He hadn’t even had the decency to look artful as he went -- his body held upright by the leverage of his spine against his heels. Pathetic. The way he dug at his own face like that… like you were some tumor, something he could just rip out of himself if he tried hard enough and be done with. He died as stupid as he looked. Your chest flared at the offense.

Aro was still standing near you. “Par excellence.”

You digested his words. You understood now. This was what he had known you were capable of. In just moments, Aro had cured you of your affliction, the debilitation of timidity. You matched his smile.

“Would now be the appropriate time to thank you?”

It was met with a giddy laugh. Aro clapped his hands together, utterly delighted at your words, your smile. He gulped it down and stepped backward offering you an expressive bow complete with arms outstretched. “No ‘thanks’ necessary. You… you are a credit to our kind.”

You bobbed your head in courteous reply to his own bow, unable to hide your giggle.

“You were never anything but.”

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