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tyongxnct · 4 years ago

Text

𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕

pairing: Haechan x reader, Jaemin x reader

special guest: Jeno, Mark

summary: Haechan was your best friend, until he started dating Jung Youngmi, his longtime crush. One day, he told you to back off and give him space, apparently Youngmi was jealous and wanted him to spend time just with her and not with you. It broke your heart, the boy you loved left you for another girl. Your friendship ended and after a while, he left your mind and heart. You started hanging out with Na Jaemin and it felt different with him, a good different. High school is coming to an end and you go on your last school trip. Unfortunately, you had to do a project on your trip and your partner was none other than Lee Haechan. It was an opportunity to rekindle your friendship, but after everything Haechan did to you, could you forgive him?

genre: angst, fluff highschool!au, unrequited-love!au bestfriends-to-enemies!au bestfriends-to-lovers!au

warnings: making out, jealousy, alcohol consumption, swearing, almost sexual assault (reader runs away), Haechan is a jerk, stealing, a prank, some dirty jokes, (I guess that’s it)

word count: 14.8k

A/N: I’m not proud of this one lmao. This took me like a decade to write and I don’t even know If I like it, I hope you do. I’m sorry for the terrible fluff, I suck at writing fluff. kind of proofread, I’m sorry If there are any errors :)

“Look how pretty she is. She’s so pretty, (Y/n). Are you even listening?” Donghyuck poked your cheek with his finger to get your attention. “What were you saying?” you asked him even though you knew the answer. “I was talking about the prettiest girl on this planet; Jung Youngmi.” You could see his eyes form into hearts. “So, nothing new. When are you going to confess? You’ve been after her for months already.” Actually, you didn’t want to hear the answer, but you had to act like the supportive best friend, even though it hurt. “It takes time to ask out a girl like her. I need to be prepared, I’m working on it. But soon, I’ll call her mine.” He winked at you and continued staring at Youngmi. You didn’t even know If she knew about your or Donghyuck’s existence.

It’s been like this for a couple of months already. You are staring at Donghyuck and Donghyuck is staring at Youngmi, well you looked at Donghyuck that way for so many years already. It was your little secret and you shared it with no one. Donghyuck knew everything about you, but he didn’t need to know that you were head over heels for him.

You kept your little secret with you and when Donghyuck told you about his crush, you buried your feeling deep inside your heart. Every time he talked about Youngmi, you heart cracked a little open but somehow, it never broke completely. It was okay. Being Donghyuck’s best friend was great, but one day, you could hear your heart breaking into many shards.

“(Y/N)! OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM RIGHT NOW!” Donghyuck ran towards you while yelling all over the hallway. “I can see it. What’s up?” you asked him casually. You thought that he was going to talk about his biology project or his soccer training, but boy were you wrong.

“I’m going on a date with her! I asked her out and she said yes! Can you believe that?!” Donghyuck hugged you tightly and you would faint right then and there If you weren’t in his arms. You didn’t have the energy to hug him back, his words ripped your heart apart and you could feel the broken pieces stab your insides.

“I guess you are too shocked to say anything, don’t worry I also couldn’t say anything at all once she said yes. I have to get ready, I have to- fuck, I don’t know what to do. You are a girl, right? Tell me what girls like. Do you like flowers? Tulips? Sunflowers? Roses? What do you think?”

“Sunflowers.” You tried to hide the pain and act like the supportive best friend you are. “I like sunflowers.”

“Alright, and what about chocolate? Or champagne? Oh, hell, what the fuck am I saying? Alright, I’ll see you later! I have to get ready for my date tonight!”

After he left, you could finally breathe again. You walked home alone that day, for the first time in forever, and not even the loud music coming from your headphones, could distract you. This was the reality you had to live in. The reality of loving Donghyuck from afar.

A couple of weeks later, Haechan and Youngmi started dating and you felt invisible. Little did you know that it was Youngmi who told Donghyuck to stop hanging out with you that much, apparently, she was jealous of your relationship with Donghyuck, which was nothing more than being best friends, but Donghyuck was so blinded by love, that he believed her.

“What do you mean I’m a distraction and a threat? Do you hear yourself?” you were furious, how could he do that to your friendship.

“Look, you don’t understand because you never had a boyfriend before. I have to spend my whole time with Youngmi- there’s no time for you anymore. And I don’t want my girlfriend to hang out with other guys too. I understand her, why can’t you?” Donghyuck explained.

“Hyuck, this is so stupid. I don’t want anything from you, I am just your friend. We’ve been friends for so long and you want to throw that away because of her?!” you yelled at him, getting angrier every passing second.

“God, you are so exhausting. I would respect your decision If you had a boyfriend!” he yelled back. “I would never even think about pushing you away even If I had a boyfriend. I would rather break up with him!”

“That’s your fault. Maybe that’s the reason you never had a boyfriend! Stop clinging to me and leave me and Youngmi the fuck alone! Stop trying to destroy the best thing that happened to me! You know how much she means to me!”

“Seems like I never meant anything to you. Fine. Go fuck yourself, Haechan.” And with that, you turned on your heel and left his room. He wasn’t your hyuck anymore, he was Haechan from now on.

After your fight, you completely stopped talking to him, you ignored each other and switched seats in your shared classes. Haechan was always with Youngmi, trailing after her like a stupid lost puppy. You couldn’t believe that all of that was really happening. Some of your friends noticed the change between you and him, but after seeing him with Youngmi, they understood. He was sitting at the ‘cool kids’ table with Youngmi on his lap. Like right now, he was sitting right across from you. You didn’t know If your timing was bad or If he did it on purpose, but every time you accidentally looked at that direction, he kissed her on the lips.

“Hey, (Y/n), do you have time to study together today? But If you’re busy we can do it another time.” You thanked Jaemin for distracting you right now. “Today’s fine. Where do you wanna go?” you asked back. “Let’s go to the library and grab something to eat afterwards? What do you think?” food sounds perfect right now. “Sounds great. I’ll see you after school?” the bell rang and it was time for you to go to your class, which you unfortunately shared with Haechan. “Yeah, see you later.”

Jaemin was actually one of your close friends, but he was never as close as Haechan was. He was also friends with Haechan, but after Haechan changed tables, he stopped talking to your other friends, too.

You were the first one to enter history class, your teacher was also not there yet. You opened the window and looked out, it was raining, and you felt like you could breathe again after the cold hit your face. Your peaceful moment was interrupted by Haechan himself. “I see you finally started talking to other boys. Is Na Jaemin your new victim? That poor boy could actually get himself a girlfriend, but If you are trying to stop him from that like you did with me, it won’t be easy for him.” He said mockingly.

Ignore him, (Y/n). Just ignore him, you thought.

“I’m talking to you.” He said.

Someone’s going to enter, and you won’t hear his stupid voice anymore, you thought now.

“You have the chance to talk to me, (Y/n). Aren’t you going to take it?” he mocked you again.

This is not the boy you knew.

“(Y/n)- “before he could continue, the other students entered, and you thanked god.

You promised yourself to ignore him, to hate him, to stop loving him, and it’s going to be a long ride until you do.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t have to wait for me.” You greeted Jaemin, who was leaning against his car. “Oh no, don’t worry. So, you want to eat first? Or after?” he asked. “I’m actually starving right now, I feel like my brain won’t work If I study with an empty stomach. What do you think?”, you asked back as you entered his car. “I hoped you’d say that.” He smiled. You never noticed that Jaemin’s smile was that pretty.

You arrived at a cute little ramen restaurant and you got more excited to eat. “This place looks so cute.” You said. “Yeah, it’s actually my first time coming here but I heard it’s really good.” Jeno once told him about this place, well actually he told Jaemin to take his girlfriend here, but he thought he could take you here, too.

After ordering two bowls of ramen, you talked about so much. You learned so many things about Jaemin you didn’t know before and you were amazed. He was incredibly sweet and funny. Time was flying by and you didn’t notice that you spend hours at the ramen restaurant. You were so into the conversation, that you didn’t want it to end. But everything good must come to an end.

“Woah it’s almost 9 pm. I guess it’s a little too late to go study.” Jaemin looked at his watched. “We can go study tomorrow If you have time.” You said and at the same time the waiter arrived. “Sure, but we should eat afterwards, not before.” He laughed. You took out your wallet but Jaemin stopped you. “You really think I’ll let you pay?”

“Jaemin come on, it’s just ramen. Let me pay.”

“No way I’ll let you pay, put that back. I’m a gentleman” You laughed at his comment and put your wallet back into your bag.

He really is a gentleman.

You spend all of your time with Jaemin after your little failed study session, it’s almost the end of the school year and everything was going perfectly fine. You got closer and closer as you spend so much time together. Your little study sessions turned into hanging out at each other’s places, facetiming late at night until you fell asleep, having movie nights and late-night dates. But you never really called it a ‘date’, you never really talked about that thing going on between you two. The people around you noticed the change between you and Jaemin. Especially Haechan whose eyes were always on you, but you didn’t know that of course, because you simply didn’t care about him anymore. Your history with Haechan, well, was history and you were looking forward to the future.

“Did you pack your underwear?” your mother asked you, making Jaemin who was laying on your bed blush and giggle. “Of course, mom, god.” You punched Jaemin on the shoulder for giggling. “What about your toothbrush? And you should bring a bikini, too. I heard the beach there is beautiful. Especially in June.” Your mom checked the list she had made for your class trip. Jaemin and your friends were also going, and you were extremely excited. “Jaemin did you pack already?” she asked him. “Yes ma’am. My suitcase is ready.”

“Great. And Jaemin?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Please take care of (Y/n), I don’t want her to get lost or kidnapped or something.”

“Mom, Jaemin’s not my babysitter.” You said annoyed as you entered your bathroom to check once again If you packed everything.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect (Y/n) with my life.”

After you heard Jaemin’s words you felt so shy. You looked at the mirror and smiled widely as your heart started beating faster. Why is he so cute and why is my heart beating like that, you asked yourself.

Jaemin left after dinner and called you on facetime as soon as he arrived at home. You were so excited that you couldn’t fall asleep and Jaemin spend the whole night with you, awake.

“We’re going to be fucked in the morning.” You mumbled.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep now. We have one hour until we have to actually wake up. If you fall asleep now, it’ll be harder to wake up. You can sleep on the bus ride, baby.”

Your eyes sprung open when your heard him say ‘baby’, he never said something like that before. He’d call you (Y/n) or (Y/n)-ie but baby? That was new. You looked at Jaemin whose eyes were almost closed, and he probably didn’t even notice that he called you baby.

“Jaemin!” you screamed, loud enough for him to hear but not too loud to wake up your parents.

“I’m awake!” his eyes shot open after you scared him like that. “By the way, I downloaded our playlist for the ride, and I added some new songs. Do you want anything else for me to download?”

“Can you download a movie?”

“Why? Do you want to sneak into my room and watch movies with me while everyone’s sleeping?” he smirked at you.

“Who knows.”

“Are you flirting?” he asked, still smirking.

“Maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep or just the thing between you two, but sometimes you looked at each other without saying anything and that was everything you needed.

Almost two hours later, you found yourself at school, next to Jaemin with your suitcases. You were waiting for the bus and your legs were about to give up. “Jaem, can you carry me?” you mumbled.

“I’ll carry you If you carry me afterwards. Deal?” he said sleepily.

“How the fuck am I supposed to carry you?”

Before you could talk about the ways of you carrying Jaemin, the bus arrived, and all the students got on. You connected your Airpods to Jaemin’s iPhone and listened with him to the playlist he created for the ride. Your head was on his shoulder and his head was on yours, something you didn’t notice, because you were so exhausted, was the hand holding yours.

What you also didn’t notice was Youngmi glaring at you. Even though you didn’t talk to Haechan for months now, she still looked at you like the devil she was. Let’s not forget the comments she always makes whenever she sees you in school. She laughed at you with her friends and always mocked you. One time, Jaemin was about to throw a chair at her, but you stopped him.

Haechan stopped bothering you after a while, and sometimes he tried to shut his girlfriends’ mouth, but nobody was strong enough to stand against her. Not even her own boyfriend.

“Look how cute they are!” your teacher, Ms. Kim said and snapped a picture of you and Jaemin sleeping like that. You woke up to the sound of the other students and your friends ‘awing’ and your teacher’s excitement. Jaemin also woke up and blushed when he saw all the people looking at you two.

“I just wanted to give you the room distribution, but I had to take a picture of you two, so cute! Here (Y/n) this is your room, and this is yours Jaemin.”

You thought it was going to be a great trip, but after you saw Yougmi’s name and of course the names of her stupid friends, you thought It could only get worse. You looked over at Jaemin’s room and he had to share the room with Haechan. “Don’t worry, if we ignore them, we can still have a wonderful time.” Jaemin tried to cheer you up and after a while you forgot that you were going to share a room with that snake.

A couple of hours later, you finally arrived, and the weather was amazing. Your hotel looked great and you couldn’t wait to explore everything with Jaemin.

“Listen, everybody. We’ll give you the keys to your rooms and don’t forget that we are here to have fun and to be productive. We made plans for the time we’re going to be here- “Ms. Kim talked as Mr. Byun handed each student a pile of sheets. “For today, you are free to do whatever you want, but we are going to have dinner together at 6 pm. You have to be in your rooms at 11pm and we don’t want to disturb the other guests, so you’re not allowed to make any noise after 10pm. Please don’t sneak out and that’s it for now. We’ll see you at 6pm.” Mr. Byun finished.

You silently entered your room and ignored the other girls. You didn’t care which bed you’d get but apparently Youngmi wanted to have yours. “Move.”

“There are four other beds. Take one of them.” You said. “No. I want this bed. So, get the fuck up.” you sighed, how are you going to survive this? You changed your bed and your phone blinked.

Jaems [14:35] : Wanna go explore the city? Or do you want to unpack first?

(Y/n) [14:35] : I’ll change my clothes, let’s meet at the reception

Jaems [14:36] : alrigthy

You changed your sweatpants and hoodie to a pretty cute sundress, and you put on a little bit of make-up, and you were ready to go. Your suitcase was under your bed and you left without saying anything to the others.

When you entered the elevator, you thought that nothing, not even stupid Youngmi, could -your thoughts were interrupted by another person who entered the elevator with you.

Fucking Lee Haechan.

When he looked up and saw you standing there, he stopped breathing. It was awkward to share the elevator with you and it wasn’t a short ride. And of course, just like in movies, you wanted to press the button at the same time, slightly touching each other’s finger.

“Sorry, ladies first.” did Haechan really just say sorry?

You didn’t say anything back and just pressed the button. You were standing as far as you could from him, trying to avoid any more interaction with him. You didn’t notice Haechan’s eyes look you up and down, too focused on texting Jaemin. Haechan never saw you in a dress before, most of the times you wore jeans and a shirt and that’s it. He also noticed the red lipstick on your lips, which was also new for him. He always thought you looked pretty without any make up and in your hoodie and sweatpants, but his view right now took his breath away.

You finally arrived and left the elevator as fast as you could, Jaemin noticed Haechan getting off after you but he didn’t care, because you looked so fucking pretty in that dress.

“My pretty girl, are you ready to explore the city?” Jaemin offered you his hand and you took it with a smile on your face.

“With you, always.”

Haechan was waiting for Youngmi to get ready, but she always, always, takes so long. You on the other side, looked beautiful without doing much. Your natural wavy hair was always perfect, and your face always shined. Everything was so much easier with you, Haechan thought. Stop comparing your girlfriend to your ex-best-friend.

You and Jaemin had a list for the place you wanted to visit. But you were most excited to see the beach. Even though you weren’t wearing your bikini, you stepped into the water until it reached your knees. You pulled your dress a little higher, scared of getting it wet.

“It’s so beautiful, Jaems, I could stay here forever.”

Jaemin held your hand, he didn’t want you to fall into the water, but that was just an excuse to hold your hand. “Be careful, though, don’t want you to get wet.”

You looked at each other for a second, realizing how sexual that sounded. “I mean-“

“I know what you mean.” You said shyly. “Um, yeah.” He glanced at his watch, “We gotta go- it’s almost six.” He changed the topic.

You arrived at the restaurant and saw your teachers waiting there. Jeno, Mark, Yuna and Minji were already sitting at a table and they waved at you and Jaemin.

“Hi.” You greeted them. “Hey, we missed you guys.” Yuna said with a smirk. Your group of friends knew that there was something going on between you and Jaemin, they teased you always because, apparently, it was cute how you and Jaemin reacted.

“Yeah sorry, we just wanted to go to the beach. We’ll hang out with you guys from now on.” You said.

“No no don’t worry about us. Enjoy your time alone.” Minji wiggled her eyebrows. “Yeah, enjoy your time alone.” Jeno also said, emphasizing the word alone.

“Anyways, what do you guys want to eat?” Jaemin changed the topic.

After everyone ordered, you were so full, you decided to go for a walk together. Everyone was teasing you and Jaemin, but no one noticed Jeno and Yuna being really close. They were practically all over each other but only you and Jaemin got teased. Jaemin and you were walking after your friends, your hands slightly brushing but none of you taking the first step. And that’s how you walked back to the hotel.

Jaemin walked you to your room, making sure your roommates didn’t do anything stupid. “Don’t worry. They won’t kill me.” You assured him. “I wouldn’t be worried If your roommates were Yuna and Minji. Do you think I can sneak you in my room?” he asked as he leaned against the door.

“Yeah so Mrs. Kim and Mr. Byun can kill us?”

He stared at you and then he leaned down to your ear, “I’d take that risk.”

“I’ll text you If anything happens and we can facetime? Is that okay?” you asked with a little smile on your lips. “I guess that’s okay.”

“Jaemin? Go to your room, it’s almost ten.” You heard Ms. Kim saying. “Alrigty, Ms. Kim. See you later.” He slightly stroked your cheek bevor he left.

Your cheeks were burning as you entered your room, ready to facetime Jaemin as soon as he arrived at his room. You plugged in your headphones and ignored the three other girls and their stupid faces. You were almost asleep as you talked to Jaemin, but you were interrupted by Youngmi’s voice.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’ll throw your phone against the wall. Some of us need their beauty sleep!” she yelled.

“And why is it so hard for you to ask me like a decent human?” you said back, Jaemin still on the phone.

“What did you just say?” Youngmi got up.

“I said ask me like a decent human and I will turn my phone off.”

Jaemin thought that you were actually kinda hot right now. The way you talked back to Youngmi- wow.

“You don’t want to mess with me.” Youngmi said through gritted teeth.

“FOR GOD’S SAKE YOU TURN YOUR FUCKING PHONE OFF AND YOUNGMI GO TO SLEEP! MY GOD!” one of your other roommates yelled.

Youngmi turned around and muttered a “Stupid bitch” which you heard.

“I’m sorry- Jaemin?” you whispered.

“What? Oh yeah- sorry. Are you alright?” he also whispered, even though he didn’t need to. His roommates were all awake. He got distracted by your beauty.

“Yeah, but I gotta hang up before she kills me with her claws.” You joked.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night pretty.”

“Good night handsome.”

You were always flirting with each other, sometimes you didn’t know If he was serious or not, but you knew that you were serious. Jaemin is handsome.

You had a shitty night and the next morning was also shitty. Your teachers were talking about the project you had to do here, you weren’t here just to relax. It wouldn’t be that bad to do the project If your partner were Jaemin- or any other friend of yours.

“We still have to do some work and you’ll do that with a partner, assigned by us.” You really hoped to be with Jaemin of course, but destiny hated you. The moment you heard Haechan’s name and yours, time stopped. Almost an entire day in a foreign city with Haechan? Jaemin slightly squeezed your hand, to assure you that it’ll be okay. But you just pouted at him and ignored Haechan’s gaze on you. Jaemin’s partner was Jeno and Youngmi’s was Minjun, a really shy boy who was almost scared of Youngmi.

“Haechan, do something. I don’t want to be with him.” Youngmi was really annoyed. “What do you want me to do? I can’t change her mind. Just do it, it won’t be that horrible.” Haechan said back. He was kind of happy to spend time with you. You were almost glued to Jaemin, now he could hang out with you, but Youngmi had other plans. You were talking to Jeno and Jaemin as you waited for Haechan and Youngmi’s discussion to be over.

After a couple minutes, Haechan came over to you. “Are you, uhm, ready?” he said awkwardly. You nodded “Yeah. I’ll see you guys later.” You bid your goodbyes to Jaemin and Jeno and left the Hotel with Haechan by your side. It was really awkward. Ms. Kim gave you a map of the city and marked a couple places you had to visit, answer a question, and take a picture together.

The first hour was really awkward but after he tripped and almost fell, you laughed your asses off. It was like back then when you laughed together even though the situation wasn’t funny at all. Your next stop was a little arcade, well it wasn’t marked on your map but the moment you and Haechan saw that arcade, all the memories of your childhood came back. How you played with him and how you always lost against him, but he still bought you a stuffed toy (which you still kept) to make it up to you. He felt bad when you cried, and you always stopped crying after he won something for you. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to play there.” He knew you would go with him, he knew how much you loved it. “Don’t worry, I’m going to beat your ass.”

You played for almost 4 hours, you really tried your best, but he still beat you at every game. “I didn’t play for years, of course I loose against you.” You tried to defend yourself, but Haechan didn’t go to the arcade after your fight. “The last time I went to an arcade was with you. You’re just bad at it. But don’t worry, I got you.”

Haechan almost put fifteen dollars into the claw machine until he got you a stuffed animal. “You didn’t have to.” You said but still accepted the cute little dog. “Well, I know that it’s not enough to make you forgive me, but I’m going to be honest with you now,” You didn’t except to hear that. “I’m so sorry for everything I said to you and how I acted. I was a bad best friend and I really really miss you. Like so much I can’t even describe how much I missed you.” Haechan really apologized and you were really taken aback. “W-What?”

“I’m sorry,” he took your hands in his. “I want my best friend back, I’m sorry. C-Can you give me another chance?” he kind of looked desperate, but the way he talked to you, really warmed your heart. Not like before, when your heart raced because of him. Now it just felt warm.

“Okay, I’ll give you another chance, because I know that you never would want to actually hurt me. I’m sorry that I didn’t accept your feelings for Youngmi. I should be a better best friend and just let you be with your girlfriend.” You also apologized.

“Since we are here, we should make great memories, right?” you smiled at him and Haechan just nodded, with a look on his face that you couldn’t really describe. “My phone’s battery is dead. Can we take the last few pictures with yours?” he asked you after a while. “Sure. My phone’s better anyway.” You were always team iPhone while Haechan sticked to his Samsung. “We’ll see about that.”

After many hours of having fun with Haechan, you realized how much you missed him. Of course, it wasn’t like before or how it is with Jaemin, but he was still important to you. You talked about all the things you couldn’t talk about when you were apart. No matter which show or movie, or memory you just wanted to share with him. Haechan also talked about a couple of things, but he told you his life was boring and wanted to hear more about you.

“So, you and Jaemin huh? Are you a thing now?” he asked after a while. A smile creeped to your face. “Well, we didn’t talk about anything like that we’re just (Y/n) and Jaemin. I don’t know. But he’s great. He’s super cute, funny, and handsome and he always makes sure that I’m happy. I feel alive when I’m with him and I just- oh sorry I just talk and talk. Tell me about your relationship. Is Youngmi treating you well?” You joked, but If you only knew.

Haechan felt jealous. Your eyes sparkled when you talked about Jaemin and he could see how much he means to you. It was always Haechan for you but know, you talked about another guy. You cared for another guy and you are in love with another guy. Haechan still didn’t knew that you had a crush on him, he only knew that you loved Jaemin.

Thinking of his girlfriend, he regrets dating her. He fell out of love almost a week after they started dating, but he always told himself that he always wanted this, so he should be happy and should stop acting like a fool. Her real self was- terrible. Youngmi was with Haechan just to use him. She wanted to be the most popular girl in school, and she couldn’t be on top without a boyfriend. So, she choose Haechan who was totally in love with her. Everyone knew that. Youngmi thought Haechan would last for a couple of weeks, but everyone called them the power couple, so she just sticked to him. She got everything she wanted. Whenever she called Haechan because she wanted something, whether it was a new bag, new shoes or just a coffee, Haechan bought it. Breaking up never crossed their minds.

“Well, we’re doing alright, I guess. I don’t know really.”

“Are you happy?”

Was he happy?

No, he wasn’t. He stopped being happy after he lost you.

“Yeah, I think so.” He lied. “Come on, let’s take another picture!” Haechan changed the topic. You were a little closer to him and he told himself that his heart was beating because of the thought of Youngmi, not because of you. You sent all the pictures you had taken to Haechan and Mrs. Kim.

You looked at the phone screen and zoomed in. “Oh my god, do I always look like this?” you laughed to yourself while walking after Haechan. Now you zoomed into Haechan’s face, he looked pretty cute, you thought. “You look so much better than me, we need to take a new pic- Haechan?” you looked up, but you couldn’t see Haechan. You turned around and there was still no sight of him. “Haechan?” you asked again, but still no answer. It was already a little dark outside and your eyesight was also terrible. You couldn’t see him, and you were about to call him, but you remembered that his phone battery was dead. Well fuck, you thought.

You had no idea where you were, and the map was also with Haechan. Maybe you should wait here until Haechan comes back, he was probably also looking for you. Almost two hours later, you were still sitting on a bench and waiting for him. Your phones battery was almost dead but that didn’t matter because you couldn’t even use your phone to call someone. Maybe Haechan’s lost and wandering through the streets looking for me, you thought. I have to find him.

You left the bench and walked around, nothing seemed familiar and it was really dark now. You looked at you watch- it was almost 11 pm. You walked around until your legs gave up. You were completely alone in a foreign city and you felt so small and you were scared. Scared that something happened to Haechan and scared that something’s going to happen to you.

You missed Jaemin. You wanted to hug him and cuddle with him, you wanted to feel his arms around you. You wanted to feel safe again, not scared. After you ten minutes break you tried to communicate with some people around your age, but they just laughed at you with their stupid accents, which you didn’t understand.

“Fuck you, assholes.” You mumbled and your stomach grumbled. You were so hungry, you haven’t eaten for hours. You had no money left, you couldn’t buy food nor could you take a taxi. The people you asked for help either laughed at you or just ignored you.

You were fucked.

Your mind drifted back to Haechan.

Was he also struggling like you to get back to the hotel? Was he also so hungry and exhausted? Was he also thinking of you?

Your legs hurt, your stomach hurt, and your head hurt. You started crying because you felt so helpless, there was nobody who could help you. It was getting colder and colder every second and you tried to keep walking to keep yourself warm, but the wind was strong.

“Look what we have here.” Someone said behind you.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk around in such alleys. Don’t you know that it can be dangerous here?” someone else said. You turned around and faced two guys, maybe a little older than you and they didn’t talk with an accent.

“Oh, I didn’t know.” You tried to stay away from them, but they stepped closer and closer. “Are you lost?” the guy asked with a smirk. “Uhm, not really but like, I was going to meet my friends, but they’re a little late.” You lied.

“You shouldn’t lie, Pinocchio.”

“I’m… I’m not lying. They’re going to be here any minute.” You lied again but you were so scared, your voice trembled.

Suddenly, one of the guys gripped your wrist and pulled you closer. With his thumb, he stroked your cheek and then your lower lip. “Please don’t touch me.” Even though you tried to sound strong, your voice betrayed you.

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to have a little fun with you, and then you can go.” The other guy pulled the straps of your dress down, exposing your shoulders. “I said stop!” you yelled now. You were struggling in his grip, but he was bigger and stronger than you. “No! Stop! I need help!” you were so scared that you just thought of kicking him in the balls. So, you kicked him as hard as you could in the balls and ran away as fast as you could. Your legs were wobbly, but the one guy was struggling to walk, and his friend tried to help him walk. “Stupid, go follow her!” he yelled at his friend, but you were long gone.

Your heart was beating heavily against your chest as you tried to calm down. You saw two girls around your age walking, and you tried your luck again. “S-Sorry can you help me?” you asked, and they finally understood you. “Yeah of course.”

You asked them how to get back to your hotel and they told you that it wasn’t that far. A 10 minutes’ walk and they even asked you If they should go with you, but you declined politely and thanked them. You could see the lights of the hotel and you could see Mr. Byun and Ms. Kim walking in circles. When they finally saw you and your state, Mr. Byun carried you to the hotel.

“H-Haechan?” you asked. “Haechan’s here. Don’t worry.” Mr. Byun assured you.

You were sitting at the reception with Mr. Byun and Ms. Kim. They were talking to some people on the phone about you. Probably the police and your family.

You saw Haechan, Youngmi, Jaemin, Jeno, Minji and Yuna entering the reception. Before they could say anything, you jumped into Haechan’s arms. “Oh my god Haechan, I was so worried!” you hugged him tightly and he wanted to hug you back, but he didn’t.

“Y-you were worried about me?” he whispered, you were the only one who heard him. You started tearing up again and Youngmi started laughing.

“Oh my god. You really are dumb.” Youngmi said. What? “You were worried for him? Even though he left you?”

You pulled away and looked at her. “What are you talking about? We lost each other in the crowd.” And she laughed again. “Haechan, why don’t you tell her the truth, baby?”

Everyone (except the teachers of course) looked curiously at Haechan. “Haechan what is she talking about?”

Haechan didn’t say anything. “Alright, let me tell you since he’s acting like a pussy. Haechan was with us after you got ‘lost’. He left you, on purpose and you were really stupid enough to look for him. You really thought that he wanted to be friends with you again? That he was really nice to you because he wanted you back? He just acted, to prank you.”

Your eyes widened, you didn’t want to believe her but after you looked at Haechan, you saw the truth in his eyes. She was telling the truth. The truth that Haechan’s a piece of shit.

“You’re a fucking asshole. You- I was walking around this stupid foreign city for hours to find you because I was so worried that you were lost because you always get lost at places you didn’t know. But you were probably laughing at me the whole time, how I walked around and asked people for help. I had no money, I had nothing! I was so scared, so fucking scared!” you were so angry and hurt, you didn’t even notice the tears. “I almost- “you yelled but stopped, your body was trembling, and you hugged yourself. “Almost what, (Y/n)?” Jaemin asked you, anger building in his body. “There were t-two guys who tried t-to...” You whispered and Haechan’s head shot up to look at you, his mouth slightly open.

That was enough for Jaemin. “You fucking- I’m going to kill you!” Jaemin pulled Haechan by his collar and punched him in the face. Haechan was in trance, you were alone, and anything could have happened to you because of him.

Jeno tried to stop Jaemin from killing Haechan and Youngmi was long gone. Mr. Byun came back and helped Jeno. “You never deserved her! You’re a fucking jerk! You’re going to pay for everything you did to her!” Jaemin yelled at Haechan who was trying hard not to cry. He went too far. Haechan realized he went too far.

You wanted to go to Jaemin, you wanted to hug him, but Ms. Kim told you it was better to leave the boys alone to calm down and get changed. Ms. Kim walked you to your room and she entered the room to stay with you and to calm you down.

You opened your suitcase and looked for a little money, to get yourself something to eat but the money was gone. “W-Where is it?” you asked yourself. “What’s wrong?” Ms. Kim asked. “My… My money’s gone, I can’t find it.”

After looking for it four times and Ms. Kim also looked for it, you could find your money. That was all the money you had bought with you. Youngmi looked away, but you knew that she took it.

“Ms. Kim, I need to talk to you outside.” You said. She nodded and you could see the worry in her eyes. “Ms. Kim, I don’t want to accuse my roommates of stealing, but I can’t stay with them, please.” You almost cried. You felt so humiliated, everything was too much for you.

“Of course, honey. And don’t worry about the money, we’ll figure something out.”

Ms. Kim rented a single room for you, she isn’t stupid, you were gone all day and your money was missing. It’s not a coincidence, she saw the way Youngmi looked at you when you noticed that your money was gone. That little smirk on Youngmi’s face could get her kicked out of school, but she would deal in morning with her, right now she wanted to be there for you and make sure you were safe.

“I’ll pay you back Ms. Kim. I promise as soon as I’m home I’ll give you the money you spent for this room.” You told her. Ms. Kim smiled “Don’t worry about that. I know what is happening around you and I’ll promise you I’ll take care of that. Now get some sleep. I’ll send Jaemin to you with some food. You must be starving.” You looked down to your feet, a little embarrassed when your stomach growled right after she said that. “Yeah… Thank you for everything Ms. Kim.”

You bought all your things that were left to your new room and changed your clothes. Your body was still shivering, and you decided to take a quick hot shower, maybe it could help you relax your shoulders. You slowly washed your body and your hair, your feet hurt so much, it was hard to stand. After you wrapped your body in a towel, your left your bathroom and you collided into someone. You were surprised and you couldn’t see the person who entered your room, you were about to scream, scared that the guys from earlier found you, but as soon as you saw Jaemin’s eyes, you relaxed.

“You scared me Jaemin!” you held your heart to calm it down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I bought food for you- shit you are shaking.” Jaemin held you by your shoulders as your body stiffened, you started freezing again. “Jaemin I’m so cold.” You slightly fell into his arms, your feet were arching and Jaemin slowly put you on the bed. “Y-You need to change. I’ll wait… outside.” He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but you held his wrist bevor he could turn around and leave. “P-Please stay with me. I’m scared.” Your eyes teared up, you didn’t want to be alone.

Jaemin slowly nodded. “C-Can you help me?” you didn’t care about anything right now, you just wanted Jaemin with you. You didn’t care that you looked so helpless and that you couldn’t even change without his help. “In my suitcase, uhm, my underwear… C-can you…?” you said shyly and Jaemin blushed.

Jaemin handed you your panties, well, he almost threw it in your face. “And a bra, please.” You and Jaemin avoided eye contact, the atmosphere was awkward. Again, Jaemin almost threw your bra in your face. Your bra was black, and your panties were purple, it didn’t match but who cared at that moment?

Jaemin saw a couple bruises under your feet. His heart clenched, you’re hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect you. Jaemin felt guilty for leaving you with Haechan, he felt guilty for breaking his promise to protect you.

“Why didn’t you bring any hoodies?” Jaemin asked as he took his own hoodie off. “What are you doing?” you asked. “Just wear this, it’ll keep your warm.” Jaemin was wearing a t-shirt under the hoodie. Jaemin turned around so you could change to your underwear and the hoodie. You told him that he could turn around and he couldn’t stop staring at you. You looked so cute with just Jaemin’s big hoodie and your panties- Jaemin blushed again. You couldn’t stay like that, so he gave you your sweatpants and he hoped that it would keep you warm. Jaemin tucked you to bed.

“Eat before the food gets cold.” Jaemin bought you a cup tomato soup, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, next to you. “Open your mouth.” Jaemin held the spoon against your mouth. Your body ached and you just opened your mouth, slowly swallowing the soup. “Is it too hot?” he asked. “No, it’s good.” You smiled.

When you finished your soup, you tucked Jaemin shirt. “Are you all right? Do you want more soup?” he asked you. “No, it’s just- can we cuddle?” Jaemin smiled at you, how could he say no to you? “Of course.” You and Jaemin were together under your blanket and he hugged your from behind. You were still cold and having Jaemin close to you was everything you needed.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you like I promised. I’m sorry that I left you alone with him- I’m so sorry.” Jaemin pulled your closer and placed a kiss on your head. “I’ll never leave you again.” You turned around to face him. “It’s not your fault, I was just stupid. It was my fault.”

“No! Don’t say that. You just have a big heart and you only see the good in everyone. Even in assholes like him.” He stroked your cheek with his hand. “You are perfect and I’m sorry that you’re hurt. I can’t imagine how scared you were.”

“I-I thought that they were going to… I thought they’d…” you started sobbing, the memories of the night still haunting you. You tried to stop the tears from falling, but whenever you closed your eyes, you could see their faces. “It’s over now, everything’s going to be all right. You are safe now. Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore.” Jaemin pulled your closer and let you cry against his chest. He slowly stroked your back to calm you down. “I thought I’d never see you again and… and that scared me the most…” you gripped his shirt tightly, scared that he’d go away. “I’ll stay with you forever, even If you don’t want me anymore. I promise I’ll never leave you because- “He didn’t know If that was the right time to confess but he couldn’t take it anymore. It broke his heart to see you like this.

“B-Because?” you looked up to him. “Because I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips. You felt safe in his arms and you wanted to stay like this forever. The tears stopped falling and you slowly pressed your lips on his. Jaemin’s heart was racing and yours too. It was your first kiss, and it was perfect because it was with Jaemin. You gently pulled away to hide your face.

“I wanted to tell you that I love you for a long time now. I want you to know, that no matter what happens, I’ll love you and I want to do this properly. So, do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?” he asked you. “Yes, I’d love to.” You looked up again and smiled at him.

“Sleep now, I’ll stay here with you.” Jaemin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart fluttered. “Thank you Jaemin.” You closed your eyes and fell asleep in his arms. You felt safe, protected, and loved.

Haechan couldn’t sleep. He was in the bathroom and washed his face with icy water to calm down. He was thinking about you. Haechan felt guilty and he knew that he lost his last chance to get you back. How could he be stupid enough to play with you? What was he thinking? He was about to get out of the bathroom, but when he heard his roommates and ex-friends talking, he listened from the other side of the door.

“Jaemin’s staying with (Y/n). Mrs. Kim bought her a room because some idiot stole her money. We all know who that was. That’s so fucked up.” Jeno said.

“For real. How the fuck could that bitch manipulate him so much? We all know that they were best friends and boom the next second, he transformed to an asshole. Youngmi isn’t even that pretty. (Y/n)’s literally beautiful.” Mark looked at Jeno as they talked. “Imagine being best friends with (Y/n) and leaving her for Youngmi. I really don’t get it.”

Jeno agreed “Yeah. I hope Jaemin isn’t as dumb as Haechan and confesses now. I can’t watch them act like a couple and not confess to each other.”

Haechan bit his lip. Mark and Jeno were right. You are a goddess next to Youngmi, you are perfect. How could Haechan let you slip away from his hands? How could Haechan leave you to Jaemin? How could Haechan break your heart so many times?

So, you were staying with Jaemin. Jealousy bloomed in Haechan’s heart. Were you sleeping with him in the same bed? Were you hugging each other? Haechan wanted to be with you. He wanted to stay with you and ask for your forgiveness until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

But he couldn’t. After what he had done to you, he just couldn’t. But there was one thing he could and would do. Haechan pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Youngmi to meet him in front of her room. He left the bathroom and Jeno and Mark stopped talking about you and Jaemin. Haechan couldn’t even look up, he looked at the floor as he left the room.

“What is it Haechan? I was going to sleep.” Youngmi said annoyed that she couldn’t have her beauty sleep.

“Where’s the money?” he asked straightforward.

“What money?” she played dumb.

“(Y/n)’s money. I know that you took it.”

“Oh, you mean that money. I’ve spent it already. I bought a new dress. Do you want to see it?” she was about to turn around to enter her room, but Haechan held her wrist.

“You’re crazy. You have to give her money back.”

“Stop being stupid, Haechannie. I’m sorry that I didn’t bought you anything with that money- “

“Are you actually dumb or are you just having fun acting like a stupid bitch?!” he raised his voice a little. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a fucking thieve and If you don’t tell Mrs. Kim that you stole (Y/n)’s money, I’m going to do it.” Haechan threatened her.

“You are a hypocrite! After everything you’ve done to her, I am a bitch now?! It’s funny actually. You destroyed your friendship with her and now you think she’ll want you back? Haechan sweetie, you’re worse than me. Do you really think she’s going to want you back after what you’ve done today? Do you really think after being an asshole she’s going to welcome you with open arms? Cute. She doesn’t need you and neither do I. And now go fuck yourself.” She ripped her wrist out of his.

“You made me do it! You made me act like an asshole! I liked you and you used me to hurt her because you knew that she’s better than you. You were fucking jealous and that’s why you wanted me to hurt her.” Haechan tried to defend himself, but deep down he knew. He knew that it was always his own decision to hurt you.

“Let me tell you one last thing,” She said and looked him deep in the eyes. “She’ll never be yours. You lost her to Jaemin, so you shouldn’t even try to get her back,” she winked at him with an evil grin on her evil face and left him alone.

Haechan silently entered his room while trying to hold in his tears. Youngmi’s right, he lost you to Jaemin and it was all his fault. He was the one who pushed you in his arms, who mocked and hurt you.

You woke up with Jaemin’s arms around your waist. You smiled softly, the warmth of Jaemin’s body felt like home. Jaemin was already wide awake, smiling like a fool because you were in his arms. Jaemin pressed little kisses on your face and you smiled wider. “Jaemin- I have morning breathe…” but still, he pressed his lips on yours. “I don’t care,” and he kissed your cheeks and then the tip of your nose.

“Go to your room before anybody sees you here. You could- “he pecked your lips “get in- “another peck “trouble- “and again. “I don’t care. I want to stay with you,” and another peck. “I want you to stay with me too, but we have to get ready. You know today’s plan, we’re stuck with Mr. Byun and Mrs. Kim.”

“I know, but we’re still going on a date tonight.” A date. With Jaemin.

“Do your feet still hurt? Do you need me to carry you?” he asked. “No, I think they’re fine now. Thank you.” This time you pecked his lips. “Ew morning breathe,” he joked, and you softly hit his shoulder. “Jokes aside, how are you feeling?” he was serious now. “Much better, don’t worry. Thank you for staying with me,” you smiled at him and you could your heartbeat increasing as you locked eyes.

“Even in the morning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“D-Don’t do that!” you hid your face in your hands. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Stop it. Get out, I need to change.”

“Well, it’s not like I didn’t see anything yesterday-“ you slapped him on the arm again“Shut up.”

“Okay, love. I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips one last time before leaving you with a racing heart in your room.

Today you were going to visit a couple places with your class. Even though you didn’t want to see Haechan and Youngmi, you couldn’t just stay in the hotel and you still had Jaemin with you and he was all you needed.

After getting ready, you texted Jaemin that you were waiting for him in your room. It took a little while until he texted you back, maybe he’s showering, you thought. Little did you know that he was currently fighting with Haechan.

“You are a stupid jerk, what were you even fucking thinking huh?!” Jaemin yelled at Haechan. “Leave me the fuck alone Jaemin.” Haechan was already at his limit and Jaemin pushing him to the edge didn’t help him calming down. “What would you do If anything had happened to her? What would you do? Huh? What If-“

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! I know, okay?! I know that I fucked up! I know that I am a fucking asshole and If anything had happened to her, I would never forgive myself- now shut the fuck up!” Haechan was frustrated and yelled back at Jaemin, tears almost falling down his cheek.

“I don’t want to see you near her ever again, do you hear me?”

Jaemin looked at Haechan one last time before he left his room to meet you. He picked you up from your room and everyone was waiting for Mr. Byun in front of the hotel.

“I’m sorry you had to wait, but I’m here; so, let’s go!” Mr. Byun said happily. “Today’s going to be fun!”

Jaemin slowly held your hand and you smiled as he pulled you a little closer.

You were walking around the city and after a couple of hours, Mr. Byun and Mrs. Kim decided to go to a restaurant. But you had a little problem. How would you pay?

You were sitting at a table with your friends. Haechan was sitting behind you but you didn’t notice. Everyone ordered but you told the waiter that you weren’t hungry, even though you were really hungry.

“I’m not hungry, thank you.” You told Jaemin. “No, I know that you are hungry. Last time you ate was almost 2 days ago and soup doesn’t count as food.”

You sighed and pulled Jaemin a little closer. “Jaemin… I- I don’t have any money.” You whispered, but Haechan still listened to your conversation.

“What do you mean you have no money? When did you spent all of your money?” Jaemin asked confused. “I didn’t- it’s, shit, somebody stole it.” You whispered the last part. “What? Who? When?” he raised his voice a little. “I don’t know, I was looking for it in my bag and my suitcase last night in my old hotel room and I noticed that it was gone.”

“That bitch-“

“Jaemin!”

“What? We all know that it was that stupid bitch.” He said angrily.

Haechan was also angry. You had no money to buy food. You had no money to buy anything and he had to do something.

“Let me take care of you until I take care of her.” He said with a devil look on his face. “No Jaemin, I have no proof and it doesn’t matter. Just eat your food I’m fine.”

“No- babe, I’m not going to eat without you.” He said a little too loud. “Did he just call you babe?” Mark asked with a grin. You looked at Jaemin and Jaemin looked at you. “No?” he said unsure. “Of course, you did we heard it. What did you guys do last night for him to call you babe?” Jeno wiggled his brows.

“What the hell, dude. Just eat your food.” Jaemin blushed.

Haechan tensed up, they way Jaemin called you babe, the things Mark and Jeno said and the way you didn’t say anything. He gripped the armrest until his knuckles turned white.

“Just order whatever you want, okay? Please?” Jaemin asked with puppy eyes and you couldn’t resist him. “I can’t let you pay for everything, Jaem.”

“Yes, you can. It’s our last day here and I want you to have fun and be happy. Promise me that you’ll tell me If you want to buy anything okay?” he asked you sweetly and you nodded. “I promise.”

Haechan was impatient. He had to do something, anything. Anything to get your trust back. To get you back.

Jaemin paid for your burger and he even insisted to get ice cream. After that, he bought you two hoodies.

“But what If I only want to wear your hoodies?” you said with a grin. Jaemin looked at you for a second and then he tried to take off his hoodie. “Okay, here you can wear it now-“

“Jaemin what are you doing?! I wasn’t talking about right now. I want to wear your hoodie again when we sleep together.”

“Y-You want to sleep with me again?” he blushed.

“What?! No! I mean, yeah of course, but like, god-“ you ran back to the fitting room and closed the curtain as fast as you could to hide your face.

After you got dressed, you could convince him to stop buying so many things. Jaemin was just so excited to spend time with you in a foreign city, he wanted to see you smile.

“I’ll come and get you at 6, is that alright?” he asked you. You were in front of your hotel room, the two of you wanted to get ready for your date later.

“It’s perfect. I’ll see you then.” You quickly pressed your lips on his cheek and before he could even realize that you did that, you hurried in your room.

“This girl’s gonna be the death of me.”

After the fifth outfit, you were done. “He’ll probably like this one.” You were wearing another sundress, but this time it was wine red. Your left your hair open because you knew that Jaemin liked your long hair. After putting on some make-up, you were ready. Ready for your first official date with Jaemin.

He distracted you the whole day and you never thought about yesterday’s events. You ignored Haechan and Youngmi completely and just focused on having fun with your friends. Everything felt just right.

“So, your first date, right?” Mark asked. Jaemin nodded as he styled his hair back. Even though Haechan was also in the room, wearing his headphones, Jaemin told Mark and Jeno about his date with you. Haechan paused his music as soon as he heard your name, but he acted like he didn’t hear anything.

“Where are you taking her?” Jeno asked now. “I’ll take her to a little ramen restaurant because our first unofficial date was also at a ramen restaurant. After that, I’ll take her to the beach and yeah that’s it I guess.” Jaemin answered as he buttoned up his shirt. He was wearing simple blue jeans and a white button-up shirt.

“And then you’ll get some pussy- hey!” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows but got hit by Mark. “Shut up idiot. But he’s right maybe you’ll get some-“ before he could finish his sentence, an angry Haechan stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut.

Haechan couldn’t let that happen. Jaemin already got you as his best friend, he couldn’t let him have you as his girlfriend.

A harsh knock on your door startled you. “Holy shit.” You got up and opened the door, excepting to see a nervous Jaemin but your eyes met Haechan’s eyes. He looked you up and down, mouth slightly open and hands sweating.

“Wrong room.” You wanted to close the door, but he stopped you from doing so. “No, right room.” He entered your room without permission and your blood was boiling.

“Get out.”

“You have to listen to me-“

“No, I don’t. Now. Get. Out.” You said trough gritted teeth.

“D-don’t date Jaemin. Please- I… Jut please don’t date him.” Haechan begged.

“What? It is none of your business who I date, get out!”

“I can’t lose you-“

“Lose me? Haechan you lost me the second you ended our friendship.”

“I- I know but, fuck, I’m so sorry for what I did-“

“What exactly are you talking about? Are you sorry for treating me like trash after you ended our friendship? Or are you sorry for leaving me alone in a foreign city? There are still so many things on the list- but please, enlighten me.”

“For everything. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you and how I acted and treated you and I know I’m an asshole and I have no right to ask you for forgiveness but, please, don’t date Jaemin.” He stepped closer but you stepped back.

“Haechan! Leave me alone. Please.” You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry. Can you just listen to me-”

“Leave!”

With one last look at your beautiful face, he left your room.

A couple minutes later you heard a knock on your door. The second you opened the door and saw Jaemin standing there, the sadness left your body and a smile placed on your lips.

“Wow, you look absolutely gorgeous. You’re so stunning- you just took my breath away.” He complimented you. “You also look stunning and really handsome.” You smiled. He also looked really hot, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Are you ready?” he asked and offered you his hand, which you took and nodded.

Your date with Jaemin was perfect, he was so sweet, and you just wanted to kiss him every time he looked at you.

“A ramen restaurant?” you smiled. “Yeah, I thought that it would be nice to go to a ramen restaurant since, you know, we kind of started spending time together after we ate at a ramen restaurant.” He smiled back at you. You quickly kissed his cheek and then you entered the restaurant, leaving Jaemin behind who smiled like a fool.

After eating dinner, you walked hand in hand to the beach. Your timing was perfect, the sun was slowly going down and the sunset looked beautiful. You took off your shoes and walked along the water with Jaemin by your side. You looked up to his face. Jaemin’s face was kissed by the sun and he looked eternal. He looked back at you.

“What?” he asked with a grin. “Nothing.” You said shyly.

Jaemin stopped walking and turned his body to you, standing directly in front of you. You didn’t look at him, you felt too shy with his gaze on you. His one hand was holding yours and with the other, he gently cupped your jaw and pushed your head up so you could look him in the eyes.

“Did you have fun today?” he asked you.

“Yes.” He was so close, you just wanted him to kiss you.

“I want to make you happy, I want to be with you and protect you, even though you’re the strongest girl I know. I want to hold your hand and hug you. I want to kiss your perfect lips until I can’t breathe anymore. You deserve happiness. You have a beautiful heart and every second I spend with you, makes me fall even harder for you. I don’t know If soulmates exists, but I know that you’d be mine. So, I’m asking you, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Everything was perfect. The sunset was perfect, the person in front of you was perfect and his word were perfect.

“Jaemin… I don’t know what exactly to say, you always leave me speechless with your words. I love you and yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You smiled brightly.

“I love you.” He pulled you closer and kissed you on the lips. You just melted in his arms as he kissed you with so much passion, your heartbeat increased, and your hands travelled to his soft hair. You could see the stars every time he kissed you and you loved it. You loved how he made you feel, how your mind travelled to another galaxy. You slowly pulled away, but he was still close to your lips with his. He pecked your lips one last time before pulling you into his arms to hug you tightly.

On your way back to the hotel, Mark texted Jaemin to meet them at a bar, not far from the hotel you stayed at. “Do you want to go?” he asked you. “Yeah, let’s go and tell our friends that we are finally a couple.” You smirked at the thought.

“Alright, girlfriend.” He said and pressed his lips on your lips.

When you arrived at the bar, you immediately saw you friends waving at you. You could see almost the whole class in that little bar, hanging out and drinking. Even Youngmi and her friends were here, and of course, Haechan with his friends.

Jeno was the first one to see you holding Jaemin’s hand.

“Well, well, well. Look at this.” He said loudly.

Jaemin pulled you closer and smirked at his friend. “Yes, we’re dating. Are you guys happy now?”

“I told you it would happen this week.” Jeno yelled happily as Mark handed him ten bucks. “Yeah yeah shut up. It’s your time now.” Mark referred to Jeno’s relationship with Yuna.

Jaemin ordered you something to drink, something with no alcohol. “Sprite? I’m not a baby.” You complained. “Yes, you are. You are my baby.”

You pouted, “Not even a little bit alcohol?”

All of your other friends were drinking and even Jaemin ordered an alcoholic drink. Everyone was drinking and having fun. “Fine, but don’t leave my side.” He pecked your lips. “I’d never leave your side.”

You were drinking really slowly while the others were already tipsy. Jaemin’s cheeks were a little pink and he hugged your from behind and kissed your neck. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You whispered as you turned around to hug him. That was a moment you’d never forget. Having fun with your friends and your boyfriend, you hadn’t felt this way since Haechan stopped being your best friend. The excitement you felt at that moment was always there when you were with Haechan, but right now, it was different, it was better.

Jeno and Yuna went outside to get some fresh air, which was a code for making out without everyone watching them. Mark and Minji were discussing about philosophy and Jaemin hugged you as he laughed at Mark’s drunk way of explaining Socrates’ philosophy.

“I need to go to the restroom.” You told Jaemin.

“Do you need me to go with you?” he asked.

You kissed his cheek, “No, I’ll be back in a minute.”

You regretted your decision going alone the second you entered the restroom.

“Look who we have here.” Youngmi was putting on her lipstick as she looked at you through the mirror. You ignored her as you looked at the mirror yourself, your make up was still there but you also needed to redo your lipstick.

“I heard you and Jaemin are a thing now. Congrats.” She said mockingly. “Did you change your room to fuck with him?” she asked bluntly. “How is he? Does he fuck you good? Better than Haechan?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you yelled. “What? Haechan told me you fucked with him.”

What the fuck?

“What? That’s not true!”

“Yeah, thought so. He fucked me like a virgin.” She said casually. What the hell is wrong with her?

“Why did… why would he tell you that we-“

“You know Haechan, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of me. He acts almighty but at the end of the day he’s a little pussy.” She turned to you.

“Well, he lied to you.”

“Just like he lied to you.” She smirked, “You think I stole your money, right? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t need your money. It was Haechan. He was in our room when you were gone, it was his idea. Everything. Leaving you alone, stealing your money, and all the other things he had done to you. He hates you, every inch of his body is filled with hatred. And our little naïve (Y/n) always fell for his lies.”

You tried your best to stop your tears from falling. The last thing you wanted is to cry in front of Youngmi, she’s a beast and your pain feeds her and makes her stronger.

She closed her clutch and turned to you. “It’s almost sad,” she chuckled, “but mostly it’s pathetic.”

Youngmi left you alone in the restroom, alone with your disappointment and anger. You had no idea, how long you were in the restroom with tears rolling down your cheek. Your hands were formed to fists, nails digging into your skin. Your thoughts were interrupted as Minji entered the restroom, looking for you.

“(Y/n)? What the hell, what happened? Jaemin’s worried sick!” she hugged you as your body started trembling in anger.

“I-I’m fine.” You lied. “Stop lying to me, tell me what happened.”

“Youngmi s-she… Haechan stole my money.” You whispered the last part, still not believing that he’d go this far.

“What?” he mouth widened in shook. “A-Are you sure?”

“Youngmi told me, and she told me that Haechan said that he and I… that we slept together. But I swear that’s not true!” you cried out.

“It’s alright I believe you-“

Suddenly someone entered the restroom, it was Jaemin. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer- (Y/n)? W-Why are you crying?”

“I love you I didn’t sleep with him, I swear.” You ran into his arms and cried. Jaemin looked at Minji with confusion written all over his face. “It’s alright, I believe you.” He slowly stroked your hair as you tried to calm down. Minji left you and Jaemin alone, and when you finally calmed down, you told Jaemin everything that Youngmi told you.

“That son of a bitch.” He mumbled.

“I’m going to talk to him.” You said determined. “What? Let me-“

“No, I have to do this, I have to- I have to tell him to leave me the fuck alone, I need to do this.”

Jaemin pulled you closer and hugged you tightly, he pressed his lips on your temple and promised you that everything’s going to be alright.

In the meantime, Haechan sat on the bar and was drowning in his thoughts, the voice in his head telling him what a piece of shit he is and how he could hurt his best, ex-best-friend, like that. What was he scared of all the time? Losing you? No matter what he’d do, he’d lose you anyways. But hurting you was the wrong way, the wrong way of pushing you away to keep his heart safe, to keep his heart away from pain.

Youngmi was right, he thought. It was always Haechan’s decision to hurt you, it was always him. He was really a hypocrite, he blamed Youngmi for everything even though it was all his fault. You suffered because of him and he pushed you in Jaemin’s arms. Jaemin replaced him and it hurt. It hurt to see you smile at Jaemin like how you used to smile at him. Haechan always saw the universe in your eyes, and now, he only saw disgust and hate. Jaemin was now the one who could fly high whenever he looked you in the eyes.

Haechan was not drunk, but he had three drinks already and he planned on drinking more, he didn’t care about Ms. Kim and Mr. Byun, right now, nobody really did, but Haechan was different, he didn’t care about anyone except for you.

He was about to order his fourth drink, but then your face suddenly showed up next to him. He rubbed his eyes and when he looked again, you were still standing there. He knew that something was wrong when you looked at him without any emotion in your eyes.

“We need to talk, follow me.”

Without saying anything, he followed you out. Jaemin was watching you leave the bar with Haechan trailing after you. “It’s gonna be alright.” Minji assured him.

You walked to an alley next to the bar, but you stopped in your tracks as you saw Jeno and Yuna making out. They stopped as soon as they heard you coughing.

“Sorry to interrupt. But could you guys, leave us alone for a couple minutes?” you asked slowly. “Is everything alright?” Yuna asked. “Yeah.”

Jeno and Yuna left you and Haechan standing in the dark alley. You were standing there and just looking at him, it seemed like you were thinking really hard about what to do next.

“A-Are you alright?” he asked slowly.

You didn’t answer.

He stepped closer. “Don’t get closer to me.” You hissed and he stopped.

“I can’t believe you.” Your hands formed fists again. “Why did you change so much?” you asked him now, your voice trembled a little.

“I-I’m still Hyuck, I’m still Donghyuck, your best friend.” He whispered.

“No, you’re not. You’re Haechan, you’re far from being my best friend, from today on, you’re nothing to me. Not even a memory.”

“D-Don’t say that, please.” His eyes started tearing up, he looked down to his feet.

“Why did you tell Youngmi that we slept together?” you asked him. His head shot up. “H-How do you know that?”

“Is that important?!”

“I-I lied because… I didn’t want Youngmi to think that I was a virgin with no experience.” He was embarrassed.

“You’re a liar, that’s nothing new to me. But since when are you a thieve?” Haechan looked at you confused. “A- A thieve?”

“Was it fun? Leaving me alone in this city, stealing my money- was it fun?”

“Stealing your money? It wasn’t me!” he said as he shook his head. “Stop lying, Haechan. Be a man and stop lying, for once.”

“Youngmi told you that, am I right? You believe her but not me?” he was angry, not angry at you but Youngmi. “Why would I believe you after every lie you told me?!”

“I’m your best friend!” he yelled now. “No, you’re not! Why would she lie to me? She hates me, but the only liar here is you!” you yelled back furiously.

“I swear I didn’t steal your money, that… that bitch stole it and I told her that-“ you interrupted him, “Let’s say I believe you. You knew but you didn’t do anything?” you asked in disbelief.

“I-It’s not like that! I was going to tell you today b-but you were getting ready for your fucking date with Jaemin I was so angry and jealous I couldn’t focus on that all I could think about was you and him!” a tear dropped down to his cheek. “Please believe me.”

“Why would you…Why would you be jealous of Jaemin?” you were trying hard to hold back your tears.

“Because I love you! I love you so much that I did everything to hurt you and push you away because I’m a fucking idiot who’s scared to love his best friend! The way I feel for you is so fucking different than how I felt for Youngmi- I thought you’d get jealous… I-I thought you’d miss me, but you replaced me with Jaemin! Did I ever mean anything to you?!” he was crying now, his vision was blurry, he missed the tear falling down your cheek.

“I loved you, Haechan. I loved you but you broke my heart so many times, when I put the pieces back together, my heart was filled with disappointment. I was jealous and I missed you, but you slowly faded, and I stopped thinking about you. And Jaemin- I love Jaemin, I love him more than I’ve ever loved you. It’s different with him- better. He’s perfect. So, you have no right to tell me that you never meant anything to me!” you said raising your voice a little. You really loved Jaemin so much.

Haechan’s heart broke like yours every time he had told you about his crush on Youngmi.

Haechan’s heart broke because he could see the love for Jaemin in your eyes.

Haechan’s heart broke because once and for all, he lost you.

Haechan’s heart broke and it wouldn’t heal for a long time.

He remembered how much fun you had yesterday before he messed up, how it felt like months ago, just you two hanging out at the arcade and enjoying each other’s company. How he watched you as he hid behind a building, how lost you looked and how lonely you were.

He remembered how you hugged him because you were worried about him, even though he was with his so-called girlfriend and friends, laughing at how dumb you looked.

He remembered how you cried in his arms because you were so scared, because he had left you alone and god knows what could’ve happened to you.

Haechan looked at you with guilt, with pain and regret in his eyes.

You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand and next thing you knew, Haechan grabbed your wrists, pulled you closer and kissed you. He held your wrists against his chest as he kissed you on the lips. Your eyes widened, you tried to push him away, but he pulled you closer, even thought it was almost impossible.

You didn’t know what to do, so you bit his lip and he pulled away with a hiss. He still held your wrists but as he saw you sobbing, he loosened his grip. Haechan looked into your eyes, he looked for a sign, a reason to keep chasing after you, a glimpse of love you still felt for Haechan, but his eyes only saw tears and pain.

“I-I’m sorry… I just-“

“Let me go.” You whispered weakly.

“I’m sorry please I love you so much, please don’t leave me again, stay with me… p-please forgive me. I swear I didn’t steal your money- I would never… Y-You’re the best thing that happened to me- I need you please don’t go to him.” He was also sobbing now.

“I don’t want to see you ever again.” Were your last words before you pushed him slightly back, with the last bits of strength you had, and with one last look, you left him alone in the alley, alone with his arching heart.

You wiped away your tears as you entered the bar and almost ran Jaemin in the arms. Jaemin was sitting next to Jeno, his leg bouncing up and down as he nervously waited for you to come back. Jaemin saw you coming towards him and he saw the redness of your eyes. He pulled you into a hug and whispered in your ear that everything’s going to be alright.

“Please bring me back to the hotel.”

Ms. Kim and Mr. Byun didn’t know that almost the whole class was at the bar, they thought everyone was in their rooms, but they didn’t really care If the students stayed a little longer outside since it was their last day. You and Jaemin quickly entered your room, tiptoeing so nobody could hear Jaemin enter your room.

Jaemin sat on your bed and pulled you softly on his lap. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You nodded and started telling him what happened, what Haechan told you and what he did at the end.

“H-He kissed you?” Jaemin asked, anger boiling in him.

“Yes, but I tried to push him away, he was a little stronger and I just bit his lip. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry that he did that. I didn’t think he would do something like that. It just made me hate him even more.” You confessed.

“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just want to punch the shit out of him.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Haechan- he’s nothing more than a piece of our past. I don’t need and I don’t want him in my life,” You said as you breathed out, “I love you.” You added and kissed him on the lips.

“I just want your lips on mine.” You whispered against his lips and then you kissed him again.

Everything was spinning around, you could taste the alcohol on his lips and the way Jaemin held you in his arms, with you on his laps, made you forget everything that happened, every bad memory of Haechan just vanished.

Jaemin put you on the bed and hovered above you, his lips never leaving yours. His tongue slipped in your mouth and your tongues were dancing with each other, his hands travelled your body up and down and your sundress exposed your legs. His hand slowly stroked your thigh as he deepened the kiss.

Jaemin pulled back and looked at your rosy cheeks, your plump lips and your chest raising up and going down. He left your breathless.

“Mark me.” You said softly.

Jaemin’s lips travelled from your lips, to your cheek to your neck. He placed wet kisses on your neck and when he started sucking, you moaned. You never felt like this before and Jaemin brought you to the edge. His lips on you, sucking and licking at you neck, leaving marks. Your mind was full of Jaemin, Jaemin and Jaemin.

After leaving a couple love bites on your skin, his lips landed on yours again. He kissed you deeply and with so much love, you felt like you were on cloud nine. He pecked your lips one last time before locking his eyes with yours, looking deeply into your eyes and seeing a whole universe in them.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you more.”

“I love you the most.” He grinned and pulled you closer to hug you with his whole body.

That night, all of your worried faded away, leaving you in the arms of your boyfriend, your safe place.

Your class trip, well, it wasn’t how you wanted it to be, but that was alright. Jaemin asked you to be his girlfriend, you had fun with your friends, and you could spend as much time with Jaemin as you wanted.

It was your last class trip before going to college, your last year of being a high-school student. You spend all of your time with Jaemin, studying until it was dark outside, making out until you needed to break apart because of the lack of oxygen, cuddling until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was too good to be true. You even got accepted to the same college with Jaemin and your other friends, everything was going amazingly well.

It was prom night, your date was, of course, Jaemin. You looked stunning and he looked incredibly handsome. He picked you up, and of course, your parents took millions of pictures of you together. Prom was breathtaking, everything looked so good and the mood was great. You danced with your friends and you slow-danced with Jaemin.

Jaemin held you close to his chest, your favorite song was playing, Jaemin paid the DJ to play this song for you. Your eyes were shining, and your smile reached your ears. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips on his. You felt like you were in a movie, the happiness you felt at that moment, it couldn’t be real. Jaemin deepened the kiss as his hands held you by your hips. Your arms were around his neck as you slowly danced with him. Jaemin pulled back and looked at you with so much love.

“I love you so much, you’re the most beautiful girl on this planet and I can’t wait to go to college with you and one day I’m going to marry you.” He promised you.

“I love you more, thank you for being with me.”

“I love you the most.”

After your dance with Jaemin, you excused yourself to go to the restroom, but you should’ve known that you’d see Youngmi there. “Hey.” She said and you looked at her, confused.

After your class trip, Youngmi lost many friends and, of course, her boyfriend Haechan. She focused on her studies and you almost forgot that she existed.

“Hi?”

She put on her lipstick and turned to you. “I know we are almost like enemies, but the last couple of months, I was all alone- I had no one, and I had time to think about everything I’ve done to you- or anyone on that matter. What I’m trying to say is; I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a bitch and I’m sorry for just everything I’ve done. I was jealous, you know, of your relationship with Haechan and your friends, and I’m sorry for destroying your friendship with Haechan.” She almost cried.

You never thought that Youngmi would apologize to you.

“There’s another thing I have to tell you and If you want to hate me forever after that, I understand.” She looked down to her hands, “H-Haechan wasn’t the one who stole your money- it… it was me. I feel ashamed and I know that you hate me, I’m sorry, for telling you that it was Haechan, I’m sorry for stealing it in the first place, I want to give you your money back and I’m sorry for lying.” Youngmi grabbed her clutch, but you stopped her, “I don’t need it, and I don’t hate you. Thank you for telling me and thank you for apologizing.” You slightly smiled at her to show her that she shouldn’t be embarrassed.

“T-Thank you.” She whispered.

You left the restroom and went out to get some fresh air after the information you just got. It didn’t change much, you forgave Youngmi because you could see that she was being genuine, and about the Haechan thing, you let out the breathe you didn’t know you were holding.

You looked to your left, not excepting to see someone sitting on a bench, let alone excepting to see Haechan sitting there all alone. You wanted to apologize for accusing him as a thieve and you made your way to him.

“Can I sit here?” you asked.

He looked up and met your eyes with his, “S-Sure.” He stuttered, not excepting you to sit down next to him, well, you were sitting at the edge of the bench, too far for his liking.

“I talked to Youngmi just now, well, she apologized and told me that she lied to me.” You said as you looked up to the full moon.

“Lied about?” he asked.

“About you. About the class trip and my money. I’m sorry for accusing you, even though you didn’t do it.” You apologized. “But I did other stuff to you.” He mumbled.

“I know, I still wanted to apologize. It doesn’t change anything between us.” You said, maybe a little too harsh since you could almost hear Haechan’s heart breaking.

“Oh.” He looked also up now. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out a sorry before closing his eyes. He was tearing up again. “We could be here together, as a couple, If I hadn’t destroyed everything.”

“I could be the one slow-dancing with you and telling you how breathtaking you look. I could hold your hand, hug you and kiss you. But I fucked up, I never deserved you.”

You turned your face to him, you could see that he was suffering, but there was nothing you could do. He felt your eyes on him, he turned his face to you and opened his eyes, looking deeply into your eyes. He didn’t see hate or disgust anymore, he saw something else, something nice and warm.

You stood up and walked away. Haechan looked after you, his heart clenching because he knew, this was the last time he would see you. You looked breathtaking in that dress, the moon was shining brightly on you. You looked like an angel.

“I love you. Look how pretty you are. You’re so pretty, (Y/n).”

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Connections 8

Chapter 8

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner went as normally as it could, but that only means that Grayson and Todd were arguing about something or other. Damian was quiet and sent Stone glares from across the table.

First, she leaves me underground and then I find out she knows our secret. She is a loose end that needs to be dealt with.

Alfred was binging out a plate of macaroons when Todd seemed tired of speaking with Grayson.

Stone took a couple of cookies and was going to leave when Todd changed targets.

"What was that about after school?" he asked "Demon Spawn, Pixie either of you want to explain."

Damian moved to grab his katana from under the table, he didn't need to hide it since she knew of their nightly activities, but she moved quickly.

She was now between the two of us, shoving a cookie into both of our mouths.

"I really don't know what you want to hear Jay, but we had a study hall at the end of the day. Damian went to the library and must not have heard the bell" she answered.

Damian grumbled shooting daggers at her, but she held her ground as he left. He doesn't know why but he decided to listen at the door.

"Honestly, Mari what happened today?" he heard Todd, ask in a soft concerned voice he had never heard before. "Damian isn't the" he doesn't know what was going to be said because Stone cut him off.

"That is what happened whether you believe it or not. And I will not be told how to think of anyone, including Damian, without giving them a chance." she stormed out, while he ducked into the nearest door.

---

I went up to my room and was about to turn in there was a knock at the door.

"Hey Damian, is there something you need?"

"How much do you know about me?" that was not what I was expecting him to say. So, I motioned for him to come in. I sat on my bed and he sat at the desk.

"Obviously, your Robin, you are Bruce's only biological child, and your brothers call you Demon spawn."

"Anything else."

"Just what I've observed at school. Oh, and your murder attempts on Jay and Tim and your fight with Dick.

"They haven't said anything else"

"They've tried" he stayed silent as if telling me to continue. "I dunno they try to tell me, but I don't think that is fair to you."

"What is that to mean" he snapped at me. "You gather information, if it is being given to you, you take it. It does not matter if it is gained fairly or not." he seemed to scold me.

"Wow"

"Wow, what Stone" he barked.

"I think that is the most I've heard you speak in one go" he only blinked at me, that was the only indication I got that I took him by surprise. "let me guess. You think I am naive for wanting to get to know someone myself."

"Tt. yes"

"Fine you can play it sensible, the king of conventional but I don't have to.” I flopped backwards laying on the bed.

"Say that again" now I sat up when I heard the confusion in his voice.

"I don't have to"

"before that"

"King of conventional"

"I've heard that before.” That was when a memory surfaced.

"I can cut you free. Out of the drudgery and the walls you keep in. So, trade that typical for something colorful. And if it's crazy, live a little crazy, you can play it sensible, a king of conventional."

"You" he shouted accusingly jumping up.

"Me” I smirked, having finally recognized this Damian as the Damian I met in Paris years ago.

"How long have you known?"

"I just figured it out actually"

"Figures that the aggravating girl from Paris would be you."

"Ya well you are still the intrusive kid who doesn't seem to know how to have fun."

By now we were yelling at each other.

"Did you know?" he asked glaring at me.

"know what?" she retorted with a huff.

"That I am or rather was an assassin then" he yelled.

"I'm sorry what?" my voice was softer and the only thing I seemed to be able to do is blink at him.

His reaction was much like my own, but shock was clearly in his eyes.

---

"You didn't know” I whispered more to myself than to her. I don't know why I told him she

didn't need to know so why?

She took a few steps to close the gap between us and just enveloped me in a hug. We didn't say

anything to one another, Damian silently cried into her shoulder hugging her tighter. Why am I crying. I should not be letting my emotions control my actions, But I feel safe. Why does she make me feel safe?

We stayed like that until I spoke again,

well it was more of a whisper into her hair. "Why aren't you running away from me?"

"Do you want me to?" she asked just as quietly. I shook my head holding her tighter. "stay, please"

she hugged me tighter "You're stuck with me Wayne"

I chuckled at that, genuinely amused, as we stepped apart "And you with me Marinette"

"Good" she then grabbed my hand and dragged

me to the living room.

"What are you doing?"

"We" she pointed between the two of us "are going to watch movies until we fall asleep" she stated as if it was the most obvious thing "You choose the movie and I'll go grab some blankets"

"Anything you want to see?” I asked before she left.

"I dunno" she shrugged "something with magic" she came back soon with a pile of blankets and a bowl of popcorn. They ended up watching the first three Harry Potter movies before falling asleep.

---

That was how everyone found them coming up from the cave. Asleep next to one another wrapped in blankets.

Three things occurred that shocked everyone the next day.

1. Damian smiled. Marinette the sun child she is get him to smile. He smiled and it was as if he was actually a kid it was just as bright and infectious as one of Mari's smiles. However once Dick took a picture his scowl was back.

2. They argued, civilly no yelling no swords, well it was more of a discussion of which house they belonged in. It was the longest argument that Damian was part of that didn't end with him with a katana in his hand, and that was almost frightening. It was settled that Damian was in Slytherin and Mari was in Gryffindor only after they took the Pottermore quiz.

3. Still more shocking was whenever Damian spoke of or with Mari it was Marinette not Stone. Damian had been with them for months, but he only referred to them as Father, Grayson, Todd, Drake, and Pennyworth. But in comes Mari and she is called by her first name before any of them.

So as a family of detectives they tried to figure out what changed with their youngest member. Because he only seemed to let down his guard around Mari. They couldn't understand it, it was an enigma with no true answer. Hell, they even found them sparring with Damian correcting and teaching her to sword fight. In turn she taught him gymnastics for when he is grappling through the city.

Two weeks passed quickly, and they were saying goodbye to Mari, but they still hadn't figured out the change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist🐞🦇

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astralkoo · 5 years ago

Text

Mr. Slim Thick | Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, fluff, high school au

Warnings: sub!jungkook, dom!reader, language, reader has a major thigh kink oof, thigh riding, bondage, oral & fingering (m. receiving), unprotected sex, probably other stuff that I forget oops

Summary: getting paired up with the kid with the thick thighs from your health class for a project is probably the best thing to happen to you in your high school career.

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N; if you’ve seen this before, its because its from my book Domination from my wattpad account Bangtanbbabies, I’ve decided to post my stories from there onto here as well just for the hell of it, enjoy my lovelies ;)

it was Monday.

and you were fucking tired.

but luckily, it was the last period of the day; health.

as usual, Jimin was talking your ear off about some guy he screwed around with at a party last weekend.

as usual, you hummed and nodded, throwing out mindless 'oh really?'s and 'that's wild's as your mind wandered to somewhere different entirely.

and as usual, your eyes were glued to the door, waiting impatiently for a certain someone to finally grace the room with their presence. and finally, he did.

your body went rigid, jaw slacking, eyes widening as Jeon Jungkook slipped into your health classroom.

his body was adorned by a complimenting pair of ripped skinny jeans that hugged his lower body in all the right places, a loose black t–shirt that was cleanly tucked into his pants, put on a teasing show of the lower part of his toned biceps, and a pair of his infamous timberlands.

"y/n."

you felt yourself falter as you took notice of the thick black belt wrapped around his waist, drawing attention to just how slim it was.

holy fucking hell.

no matter how many times you saw him, you were never able to get over just how fine he was.

when he walked past your desk, you had to remind yourself repeatedly that it would technically be conserved sexual assault if you just reached over and spanked his ass.

...unless he was into that... then you were fucking golden.

but no, you refrained from touching him inappropriately (to your own disappointment) and resorted to just watching him.

you watched as he strode gracefully through the classroom, weaving his way through the desks until he reached that of his best friend, Kim Taehyung.

you watched as he grinned at him, small, pink lips molding around the words of a greeting.

you watched as he pressed his large hands against the top of the desk, leaning his body over it slightly, putting the profile of his curvy backside on full display for your hungry eyes.

"y/n."

your tongue slid over your lips, eyes zeroing in on your personal favorite part of his gorgeous body: his thighs. those babies could crush watermelons. but you'd rather them be wrapped around your head.

"y/n!"

"jesus fuck what do you want?" you hissed, whipping around to face park jimin, your best friend of ten years. "can't you see I'm trying to enjoy the walking porn star?"

"you're drooling, perv," he rolled his eyes, "literally."

you raised your hand to your lips, "am not— oh fuck." you quickly used your sleeve to wipe off your damp chin as Jimin snorted loudly.

"do you know nothing of subtlety?"

"I'm subtle," you scowled at him defensively, hands dropping against your desk with a harsh thud that drew a few eyes in your direction.

"sure, that's the reason why the only person unaware about your little infatuation is Jungkook himself, and that's because straight dudes are stupid oblivious."

you pouted, arms crossing stubbornly over your chest, "I'm not infatuated, just interested."

"yeah, in his body."

"nuh–uh!"

"yuh–uh!"

you swatted at his arm harshly, making him gasp dramatically, before he childishly hit you back. soon enough, it turned into a full blow smack war.

"ms. l/n, mr. park. if you wouldn't mind postponing your flirting until after my class, I'd greatly appreciate it," your teacher smiled sarcastically at the two of you.

you rolled your eyes, about to lean back in your seat, when suddenly Jimin's arms were around you, tugging your body into an awkward position against the arm of your desk as he all but groped you. "but, miss, you don't understand, I just can't keep my hands off of her."

your teacher grimaced, "I implore you to try, mr. park."

Jimin pouted, gripping your chin, staring intensely into your eyes. "but she's just so sexy... I can hardly contain my raging testosterone. you know, miss, a man has his needs." you gasped exaggeratedly as his hand suddenly gripped your butt, squeezing.

"naughty boy~ we were just in the janitor’s closet during lunch," you 'whispered', biting your lip, both for the little show you two were putting on but also to contain the laugh threatening to burst out of you, "do you already need more, daddy?"

he moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut. you slapped your hand over your mouth, head falling against his shoulder as your body shook with silent laughter.

that seemed to be the last straw for your teacher because she looked about ready to burst from the twenty shades of red her face was turning.

but, instead of throwing detentions in your faces (knowing she'd have to spend an extra hour after school with the two of you tormenting her), she brought her fingers to her temples, massaging roughly, muttering to herself several times in a row, "ten more years until retirement. jail time isn't worth it."

"I think we broke her," you cackled, Jimin nodding in agreement.

"alright," she shouted suddenly, slamming her hands down on the top of her desk, "enough time wasted. since I have no interest in so much as attempting to teach you hormonal reprobates, I'm going to give you a project."

Jimin and you side eyed each other hopefully, waiting for her to spit out those last words.

"and you will be working in groups of two or three,"

the class erupted into eager conversation, people turning to their friends and shooting looks across the room. you and Jimin performed your secret hand shake, cheering excitedly. until,

"that will be randomly assigned."

groans of protest and annoyance filled the room. she just rolled her eyes and pulled up a randomizer on her computer, spinning a wheel and waiting for the groups to be assigned. she turned to screen around to face the class, who quickly scrambled out of their seats to see who they'd be working with.

there were a few sighs of disappointment but no adamant protests. once you and Jimin reached the screen, seeing your names paired together, you high–fived, muttering out a, "hell yeah." but your excitement was cut short by your buzzkill of a health teacher, who quickly took notice of your eagerness.

"well that just won't work," she tsked, shaking her head disapprovingly, "for the love of all things holy and pure you two should definitely not be paired together. hold on just a moment."

"miss, you can't be serious, we were just—" you began.

"mr. jeon, please switch with mr. park and be ms. l/n's partner."

"see ya, bitch," you snorted, swiveling on your heels to face a confused looking Jungkook.

he glanced once at his irrelevant partner before shrugging and making his way over to you. you yelped as a sharp pinch was delivered to your arm.

"traitor," Jimin hissed as he stalked away from you. you simply shrugged, smirking to yourself.

for that fine piece of ass, you'd betray your bestie any day.

"hey, Jungkook," you grinned. he smiled lightly nodding in greeting as you both fell into nearby seats.

the entire rest of the class, ms. stickupherass was explaining what the project would consist of, you were completely zoned out. instead of listening, you were intensely focused on staring at the side of Jungkook's stupidly cute face.

your eyes traced the pronounced curve of his nose, fluttering over those little pink lips, following the strikingly sharp line of his jaw. this was the closest you've been to the boy since you accidentally ran into him in the hall, accidentally dropped your stuff, and accidentally let yourself admire his thighs and butt as he picked it all up like the gentleman he was.

so no, you were not about to waste this precious opportunity to listen to your teacher ramble on about some trivial project.

before you knew it, the bell was ringing.

with a disappointed pout, you began packing your belongings away.

"so... where should we work on the project?" his soft, breathy voice took you by surprise, sending shudders of delight down your spine just by the mere sound of it.

"hm?"

"when should we work on this?" he repeated with a soft giggle that had your heart doing all kinds of weird gymnastic tricks, "maybe in the library... we could stay after school if you want to?" he suggested softly

"and spend another hour of my life in this hell hole? no thanks," you scowled, nose scrunching at the suggestion. he nodded meekly in understanding, head lowering. you bit your lip lightly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, "how about you come by my place after school today, and we can get some real work done there."

he seemed oblivious to the double meaning behind your statement. instead, he took on a somewhat worried expression, eyes drifting off somewhere else.

"would your boyfriend be okay with that?"

your face scrunched in confusion, "boyfriend, what boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend. where the hell did you get that idea?"

he blinked at you, visibly bemused, "but, I thought you were with Jimin?"

you nearly choked on your own laughter as it came bursting from you lips, "please, he's about as straight as your ass looks in those jeans."

"what?"

lmao, exposed yourself bitch.

"he's gay, very gay."

"oh."

it was surprisingly easy to convince Jungkook to come to your house, despite his endearing refusals of not wanting to intrude, but you insisted. adamantly.

because intrusion was exactly what you were hoping for.

you even convinced him to let you drive him, seeing as he usually took the bus or got a ride from one of his older friends.

he looked cute as fuck sitting in your passenger seat, fiddling shyly with his fingers as his big eyes gazed out the window.

several times you had to stop your hand from reaching over the console and gripping those thick, luscious thighs. they were just fucking begging to be squeezed, and kissed, and bruised, and rode—

okay. so you might have a bit of an infatuation.

you knew it would be about fifteen million times harder to control the urge to grab him and fuck him in every position known to man once you actually had him in your house. especially with your parents at work...

it'd just be you, him, and the demon sitting on your shoulder with a massive thigh kink.

"welcome to mi casa," you sang, throwing yourself down on your living room couch, smiling cheekily up at a visibly uncertain Jungkook, "make yourself at home, babe."

you watched in amusement as his cheeks tinted a soft pink color as the nickname slid off your lips in a flirtatious purr. he faltered briefly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his cheeks filled with air, eyes flickering noncommittally around the room.

"Come on, I don't bite," you grinned, patting the seat beside you, adding under your breath, "too hard."

he lowered himself onto the couch, and you pouted at the unreasonable (it was reasonable) amount of distance he put between you two, but decided to let it be. he pulled materials out of his backpack, setting them up on the table in front of you.

"do you think you can explain what exactly we're supposed to be doing, because I may or may not have completely zoned out while she was talking," you admitted.

he chuckled softly, "well, she said were supposed to make a poster showing or explaining the positive and the negative of engaging in sexual intercourse as teenagers, and it's supposed to show us how like, sex isn't worth the risk at a young age."

haha. yeah, okay.

"so, the pros and cons of fucking?" you reiterated, brows raising. his cheeks tinted a shade of pink at your blunt wording and he nodded slowly.

"y–yeah, I guess you could say it like that."

a wicked smirk twisted onto your face. wonderfully sinful ideas began to swirl to life in your mind. you were beginning to appreciate ms. stickupherass more and more every second.

until you actually started to do the project.

"one pro? really? that's all you can think of?" you scoffed in disbelief, staring at the t–chart he had compiled. the long list of negatives far outdid the single positive he had come up with.

"there is only one positive to sex: momentary pleasure. other than that there is literally nothing to gain besides std's and regret." he muttered, matter–of–fact.

"have you ever even had sex before?"

his deeply blushing face and skittering eyes were all the answer you needed.

"you've never had sex before? are you crazy? then how the fuck can you sit here talking shit about it? that's like when people say pineapple pizza sucks before they've even tried it! It (insert opinion on pineapple pizza bc I'm not tryna start any wars ya feel), but I can say that because I've actually tried it before!"

"I know about all the risks and consequences that come with sex! it just doesn't seem worth it."

"but you're only exposing yourself to the negative. you gotta give yourself a chance to experience life and all its messy, beautiful qualities. you can't just make your mind about something you've never experienced before," you countered quickly, "sex can be... life changing."

"yeah, especially when you end up with a new addition nine months later."

"ever heard of protected sex, jackass?"

"no amount of protection is full proof."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook.

of course the first guy you've ever met to not want to have sex is the kid you've been obsessing over since the first day of high school. how fucked up is that.

"listen, Jungkook," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "sex is a whole lot more than you're giving it credit for."

"I know what—"

"hear me put, okay?" you interrupted quickly, giving him a pointed glare. he sealed his lips, nodding obediently. you continued, "sex isn't always just about pleasure. it's about intimacy, connection, trust, love. it's about forming a deeper relationships with someone. why do you think some people wait until after marriage? it's about putting faith in someone, and showing them trust."

he watched you intently as you spoke, lips faintly parted, eyes wide. every word that passed from your lips, he listened to devotedly.

"that's not to say sex can't be dirty or heartbreaking or wrong. believe me, I know it can be anything but good. but, I've also seen how amazing it can be. if you do it right, with the right person, in the right place... shit, it can be—"

"life changing?" he finished for you, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

you chuckled, nodding. "exactly. and I'm not saying you should go out and fuck everything with a pulse. I'm just saying, sex isn't always this horrible, disgusting thing that you think it is. if it was, I doubt so many people would be having it."

all at once, his mouth was on yours. your eyes widened, body going rigid. well, you weren't expecting that.

just as quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away. he looked horrified, mouth gaping, eyes practically popping out of their sockets. it seemed he was just as caught off guard as you were.

the kiss couldn't have lasted for more than three seconds. but in those quick seconds, you had gotten a taste of him.

and you wanted more.

he began to spit it a flustered mess of an apology, "holy shit, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I—"

"shut up," you growled, grabbing him by the back of the neck and drawing his lips back onto your own.

he emitted a sound of surprise, but didn't make a move to pull away. even so, his lips were puckered and stiff. it was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. chuckling, you leaned away just enough that your lips weren't touching.

"relax, Jungkook," you murmured, pecking his lips lightly.

"I'm sorry," he managed to choke out, face turning beat red for the umpteenth time that day, "I've just never... done this before."

"you've never kissed anyone before?" he shook his head weakly, features burning with embarrassment at his admission. you smiled, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek, "that's alright... I'll teach you."

"o–okay," he whimpered, dark eyes focusing in on your lips.

seeing the need that sparkled faintly within them, you decided not to make him wait any longer. you pressed your lips gently to his, moving slowly, but with purpose. his motions gradually grew from stiff and uncertain to relaxed and fluid. you let out a sound of approval, one of your hands sneaking down to squeeze his thigh.

god damn.

he gasped in your mouth, and you dipped your tongue skillfully between his lips. a loud moan escaped his chest, the sound sending chills down your spine. you couldn't help but to wonder what he would sound like moaning your name, begging for more...

that thought alone was enough to have you tugging him closer to you, pulling his leg over your lap until he was straddling your thighs. your hands wandered to his waist, thumbs rubbing small circles. he shuddered faintly, giggling into your mouth as you hit a ticklish spot.

"god, you're so cute," you chuckled, kissing over his jaw as his head tilted back, offering you more access. he mewled as you hit a weak place.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he gasped, hands jumping up to grip your shoulders tightly.

"don't think too much, just enjoy," you purred, nipping at his collarbone playfully, "and follow my lead." the grip you had on his waist slipped down to his narrow hips, guiding them in slow grinding motions.

"o–oh," he swallowed, jaw slacking as his eyes dropped between you, watching himself grind against you. it didn't take long for a prominent bulge to form in his tight jeans, the restriction making him squirm. he let out a strangled whine, "y/n... it hurts."

you smirked, "why don't you strip for me, baby?"

his cheeks ignited in a hot crimson blush. "s–strip?" you hummed, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out from the loops, dropping it onto the floor. that may be useful later.

he nodded, "okay." you grinned, excitement boiling up inside of you, leaning back as Jungkook stood up before you. he bit his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shyly as he gripped the bottom of his black t–shirt.

"d–don't laugh."

your eyes widened, brows raising. "I would never laugh at you, I promise," there was steadfast certainty in your voice, your hand rubbing soothingly down the back of his leg, "it's okay if you don't want to do this—"

"no! no, I want to," he cut you off quickly, and you couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over you.

"okay," you leaned back, "then take it off."

with an adorable look of determination, he began to strip; starting with his shirt. you had to bite your lip near the point of blood when he slowly peeled the fabric off of his body to keep from crying out 'glory, glory, hallelujah!'. hot was an understatement.

muscular shoulders that melted into sculpted biceps. a bulky chest that screamed push up fiend and formed into a set of six tight, toned abs.

"Jesus," your mouth watered.

you couldn't stop your hand from reaching out and caressing down his body, watching as his stomach flexed under your touch.

"work out much?" you smirked up at him.

he chuckled, shrugging faintly, "it’s a hobby of mine."

yeah, it fucking shows.

once again, your eyes slid down to see his erection still standing proud, straining hopelessly. you licked your lips lustfully. seeing what was above the belt, only made you want to see what was below it a hundred times worse.

"fuck, take your pants off," you impatience was beginning to show as your hands found the zipper of his jeans. but he suddenly grabbed your wrists. you looked up at him, concerned you'd gone too fast for his liking.

but his dark, desire filled eyes and the playful smirk on his lips told you otherwise. "please... let me," he murmured, you nodded in a slight daze from the look he was giving you. releasing your wrists, he slowly pushed his jeans over his hips, letting them slip teasingly down his thick thighs, before they finally pooled at his ankles, where he had earlier kicked off his timbers.

you groaned softly, nearly melting at the sight of his bare legs in front of you. shaved, they were fucking shaved. you could see the taunt muscles bulging underneath his soft skin. and holy fuck his thighs, his thighs, his fucking thighs. tan and big and bite–able.

shit, they were even hotter than you imagined.

"you... you can touch me... if you want..."

his soft, bashful voice broke you from the trance you'd put yourself in, and you quickly snapped your stare away from his thickness and up to his face. he looked shy again, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, cheeks rounded, raised, and tinted by a subtle pink, eyes big and shiny in the most endearing way imaginable.

how the holy fuck were you supposed to say no to that.

in less than a second your hands were back on his thighs, rubbing, squeezing, savoring. his skin was warm and tight under your greedy hands, tensing every time your fingers grazed a particularly sensitive area.

just touching suddenly wasn't enough. leaning forward, you grazed your lips over the hem of his tight boxers, biting gently at the flesh just below it. he trembled, moaning softly as you placed a flurry of kisses and light sucks on his legs.

thigh kink? confirmed.

you were so close, you could see his erection growing by the second. and shit was that a turn on. with a twinge of reluctance, you detached your mouth from his thighs, peering up at his slack jawed face with a smirk.

"you look good in black, Jeon," you teased, lightly tracing your index finger over his boner.

"please, y/n," he moaned, his knees beginning to grow weak underneath him. as much as you would have loved to have kept teasing the hell out of him, there were far more important matters to take into consideration.

pulling away from him, you shifted over to make room for his large body on the couch. "down," you demanded.

he all but launched himself onto the couch, before staring at you like an obedient puppy awaiting his next command. you were already power hungry enough as is, and now he was looking at you like that? the fuck was he trying to do to you?

he yelped in surprise as you planted your hands on his shoulders, shoving him back. he fell, head landing near the arm rest, torso propped up on his elbows, legs parted, one foot resting on the floor. he looked like a work of art laid out like that. you could just devour him.

you crawled on top of him, trapping his head between your hands. "do you know how long I've wanted you, Jungkook?" you muttered, brushing your nose over his. he shook his head, breathing heavily as you positioned one of your knees against his crotch. "do you know how long I've wanted to have your gorgeous body underneath mine? too fucking long."

he moaned out as you pressed into him, at the same time capturing his mouth in yours in a wet, sloppy, hungry kiss that had his mind reeling. his large hands gripped your jaw, one of his legs hooked over your hip, keeping you close to him. he loved feeling you.

"do you know how much of a tease you are?" you growled against his mouth, biting his bottom lip. "shit, you have to know. walking around in those tight jeans, showing off that tight little ass. you love it, don't you? having everyone's eyes all over you."

he was panting as his hips began to slowly grind against your leg, desperate for friction. "I– I never realized—"

you cut him off with a hand around his throat, tsking softly, "don't lie to me, baby. liars get punished." shit, y/n don't get too kinky on him, it's still his first time, you silently reminded yourself. but he seemed to enjoy it enough, because his grinding became rougher and faster, to the point where he was essentially dry humping your leg.

"f–fuck, punish me," he moaned out, clenching and unclenching his fists in your hair. you choked.

he was asking for it. literally asking for it. if it was any other guy, you would have already jumped his bones.

but this was Jeon Jungkook, your not so secret obsession since the beginning of high school. he was underneath you, horny, hard, and asking you to punish him. and yet, you still weren't sure.

on one hand; you wanted to fuck his shit up. you wanted to feel him writhing, hear him crying out, see him sweating. you wanted to wreck that boy. fuck him into oblivion, until he was seeing stars.

but on the other hand; he was still a virgin. he had no experience whatsoever, and had only just had his first kiss that day, with you. you didn't want to hurt him–hurt him his first time. you didn't know if he could take it.

Jungkook must have seen the conflicted expression on your face, because he made a soft noise to bring your attention back to him.

"please–," he whimpered, spreading his thighs with a needy moan, "please, be rough with me."

w—

was your life a joke to him?

"shit, Jeon," you huffed out a strained chuckle, "you're really fucking me up here."

he whimpered again, looking up at you pleadingly. "I can handle it, I promise. I want more. I want you."

was this the same guy that said the only things you can gain from sex are std's and regret?

it wasn't hard for him to shatter any tiny amount of resistance you offered with a single look. you nodded faintly, smiling as his face lit up. "don't be afraid to tell me to stop, okay? I don't want to get too carried away."

he hummed, head bobbing in acknowledgment.

"words, baby," you scolded.

"yes, I promise," he breathed, eyes honing in on your lips, "can you kiss me again?"

as much as you wanted to tell him this was serious, you still couldn't bring yourself to say no. you kissed him again, slowly this time. you chuckled at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips. "impatient thing, aren't you?"

he opened his mouth to respond, but could only manage a gasp as you began to trail your mouth down his body, until you were face to crotch with his throbbing arousal. you looked up at him with a cocked brow. "want them off?"

you had barely finished the question before he was rapidly nodding his head, biting his lip as he hummed desperately. chuckling at his eagerness, you slid your fingers under the waistband on his black Calvin Klein's, and tugged them down.

his erection swung out of it's confines like a god damn baseball bat, slapping against his stomach hard enough to make him flinch slightly. you don't remember ever seeing a guy that hard before. and you'd barely even touched him.

"impressive, baby," you purred, soothing your hands over the inside of his thighs. pressing a slow kiss to his hipbone, you murmured, "you're already so hard for me... it makes me wonder..."

your fingers glided closer and closer to where you knew he wanted you most, but never touching him. frustration blossomed on his face in the attractive shade of crimson.

"if I could make you come without even touching you."

he cried out, desperately shaking his head, "no, no please– I can't. please touch me. I need you, plea—" he cut himself off with a thunderous moan as your hand wrapped around his dick and began pumping quickly.

you smiled cheekily up at him, "since you said please."

he was already slick with his own pre cum, hot and throbbing in your palm. spluttering moans escaped his lips as his body tried to process the pleasure of your smooth, rapid strokes. little need be said that it was a lot for his virgin cock to handle in that moment.

his head jerked up when you suddenly pulled away, staring down at you with furrowed brows and hopeless eyes.

"you wanted me to kiss you, right?" it was more of a rhetorical question, and you didn't really give him the chance to reply anyways before your mouth was on his dick.

Jungkook cried loudly, throwing his head back as you french kissed his tip.

"f–fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he whined between harsh onslaughts of gasps and moans, tightly grabbing the armrest above his head. you hummed in admiration as his chest broadened and his skin tightened with the stretch, putting his taut pectorals on full display.

every flick and twirl of your tongue sent tendrils of pleasure shooting through his body in hot, wet, glorious waves. his back arched off of the couch cushion every time you sucked, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening.

you watched, ego practically bursting out of your head at how responsive he was. every thrust of his torso, every tremble of his legs, every gorgeous sound that thrust itself from his lips went straight to your core. he was undeniably intoxicating.

he suddenly threw his legs over your shoulders, ankles locking on the small of your back. you moaned around him as you realized the position he'd just put himself in. your hands crawled up his flexing thighs, gripping them tightly.

talk about a dream come true. literally.

you applied some vigor to your motions, bobbing your head eagerly and twisting your tongue around him. you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth, the fluid leaning from his swollen cock lathering your tongue. that combined with the sounds he was making, beautiful, high whines, signaled that he was close. but you weren't done yet.

all at once, you pulled away, panting slightly but smirking nonetheless.

"w–why did you... s–stop?" he gasped, brows furrowing as he looked down at you desperately.

"because I want to show you another trick I learned during one of my rendezvous," you purred, kissing down his thighs to soothe the orgasm you prevented him from experiencing, "if you're up for it?"

"if it feels anything like that, I'm down," he was quick to agree, pulling his legs off of you as you sat up.

"I'm happy to hear that..." your eyes wandered below his dick, and your eyes glistened with excitement. before he could put two and two together, your fingers were tracing his lips. "do you mind sucking?" you asked. he shook his head, and you chuckled at his big doe eyes, sending you silent pleas, "then suck, baby."

he obediently took your fingers into his mouth, small lips delicately wrapping around them. you hummed in appreciation, loving the way he looked with your fingers in his mouth.

"that's right baby, use your tongue, make them wet," you groaned, pushing them deeper. he silently complied, tongue shyly swirling around them, cheeks going concave and he sucked gently. all the while, his eyes, wide and glistening, looked into yours, hungry for approval.

Jesus Christ, have mercy.

"you'll make me come in my pants if you keep this up," you joked, biting at the inside of your cheek. that statement only seemed to add fuel to the fire, because before you could process what he was doing, he had you fingers knuckle deep in his mouth, sucking them like his life depended on it. now, it was your turn to go slack jawed.

when it got to the point where you could feel the arousal beginning to drip between your thighs, you drew your fingers from his mouth. you shuddered with glee at the sight of a string of his spit connecting the tip of your finger to his lips. hot. hot, really fucking hot.

"damn, baby. you're good with your mouth," you chuckled breathlessly, trying to ignore the sexy way his brows rose in suggestive arches at your statement.

"I can be even better if you give me something hot and wet to eat."

well fuck you too, Jeon. now my ovaries have exploded, thanks a whole fuckin' lot you little tongue slut.

"maybe if you behave yourself, yeah?" you all but growled, feeling the heat in your body increase tenfold. and then he had the nerve to smirk at you. as if you weren't turned on enough. now you had to show him who the fuck was in charge here. "you're asking for it, Jeon."

he chuckled shortly, biting his lip. "then give it to me."

welp. there goes taking it easy his first time.

in seconds, you had his hands pinned above his head and the belt you had discarded earlier wrapped tightly around his wrists. he groaned at the feeling of the taut leather pulling at his delicate skin, loving the sensation of being restrained more than he thought he would.

"such a spoiled little brat, aren't you?" you snarled, grabbing one of his legs and forcing it up over your shoulder, holding the other against his chest. he bit his lip, eagerly nodding in agreement. "making demands like that. shit, you want it so bad? then have it, baby."

he cried out as the tips of your wet fingers slowly penetrated his virgin hole. hot, salty tears pooled in his eyes at the foreign stretch. you placed soothing kisses down his neck, murmuring sweet, encouraging words against his skin.

"tell me to stop if it's too much," you uttered, feeling his body trembling and tensing beneath you.

he quickly shook his head at that, "I'm okay– I'm okay... keep going... please keep going."

you praised him quietly, continuing to ease your fingers into him. his back arched deeply, forcing your chest together so firmly not even a piece of paper could slip between you. his head rolled to the side, panting lips pressing to his bicep, prominent bunny teeth biting into the flesh as his brows scrunched.

beautiful didn't begin to describe him.

"you're taking my fingers so well, baby," you cooed, thrusting your fingers shallowly, slowly in and out of him at a consistent pace, allowing his body to adjust properly. you could tell he was still in some pain, but it was quickly melting from his feature, being replaced by something entirely different.

"y/n," he drawled out a low moan, hips steadily beginning to roll in time with your fingers.

oh, you knew what that meant.

"you want more?"

he nodded quickly, whining for emphasis. you only grinned and continued your now painfully slow motions. he groaned in frustration when he tried to grind his hips down, only for you to grab them and pin them down. this was becoming torturous. this shallow pleasure and weak stretches weren't enough to get him anywhere. you know that. and now so did he.

face blossoming in a deep red, he weakly squirmed against his restraints in order to lift his head. "y/n, I can handle it, please! I need— shit," he squeaked loudly, eyes popping open almost comically when your fingers suddenly pushed deeply into him. his entire body jolted and you felt him clench around you.

"relax. you said you could handle it right?" he could only nod, words evading him as you pulled out, only to plunge right back in. the motion sent his head into a fuzzy state of euphoria that he'd never had the pleasure of encountering before.

it wasn't long before you were pumping into him at an arm numbing pace. your bicep and wrist ached, but you really couldn't care less. not with how utterly, stupefyingly gorgeous he looked.

hands bound above his head, which was thrown back as his strained throat shot out whorish moans. sweat making his rippling skin shimmer like an ocean at sunset. every muscle in his upper body was flexed and on full display for your greedy eyes, bulging and trembling.

"you look like you're about to just burst, Jeon," you teased, biting your lip at the sound of your palm connecting with his toned backside with sharp smacks.

wet? nah bitch you were drenched.

"w–wa... wait–wai... wait!" he gasped and moaned as your skilled fingers brought him closer and closer to the edge. you immediately still, quickly drawing your hand away from him.

"did I hurt you?" you asked, concern shining in your eyes.

"no, no it felt good. really good, fuck. I just..." you furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for him to continue, "I don't want to come from your hand."

your brows raised, "oh?"

"I want you to fuck me."

oh.

a massive smirk split your cheeks. "don't have to tell me twice," you swooped down, kissing him fiercely. you moved the undo his binds, letting the belt hit the floor with a soft thud. with his freed hands, he reached down and helped you tug off your pants. you were both far too eager even bother taking off your underwear. you moaned softly as his slender fingers pushed the fabric to the side, grazing your wet lips.

he gasped, looking up at you with wide eyes. "you're so wet."

chuckling, you ground against his lingering fingers, moaning soft at the sparks of pleasure that followed. "mm, all because of you, baby." he blushed deeply, biting his lip to contain a wide smile. he hadn't realized he was affecting you just as much as you were affecting him.

he took you off guard as he slid his fingers against you, lightly pressing against your core, applying pressure to your sensitive clit. you jerked, legs quivering beneath the weight of your body. "easy, I'm not trying to come before I even get to feel you inside of me. I've waited too long for this."

in one swift motion, you sunk down on his erect cock. you gasped as he moaned in shock, both of you taken off guard by just how good it felt. you hadn't expected that much of a stretch, his dick filling you flawlessly. he hadn't expected you to be that tight, squeezing and clenching around him. he thought he was overwhelmed before, but this was an entirely different ball game. hehe, literally.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Jungkook choked, hands searching hopelessly for something to grab onto but unable to decide what he wanted to hold onto.

you chuckled breathlessly between soft moans, rolling your hips in slow figure eights. "God's got nothing to do with this, baby." You gripped at his muscular shoulders for support as you rode his dick.

truth is, he felt a thousand times better than you thought he would. he wasn't massive, but he was the perfect size for you, just thick enough to stretch you out without causing any real pain and long enough to reach that perfect, sensitive little spot inside of you with ease.

"fuck you feel so good," you groaned, throwing you head back as you sped up your pace, bouncing with renewed stamina.

Jungkook keened, feeling already himself teetering on that edge. but he didn't want to finish, he didn't want it to end. the feelings, the sensations you were giving him were unlike anything he'd ever faced before.

"y/n— I think I might–" he began to warn you, but his words got lost in gasping moans and hopeless whines. you got the message though, especially at the feeling of him throbbing and twitching inside of you.

"then I'm going to need you to touch me, baby," you guided his wrist to your aching pussy, moaning loudly when his fingers made contact with your swollen clit, "f–fuck right the–there."

he whimpered, wanting to please you just as much as you were pleasing him. "how?" he asked desperately, hips reflexively jumping as you clenched around him.

with your hand laid over top of his, you were able to lead his long middle finger in drawing small circles, until he was doing it all on his own. "oh shit, yeah– yeah, just like that... just like that." he couldn't hide the smile that grew at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your mouth gaping in silent moans as his touches worked you closer and closer to your undoing.

but you wiped that smile off his face when your hands landed back on his chest, brushing his nipples and making his back arch upwards. you tested it again, this time with gentle pinches that had him crying out in euphoria, bucking into you hard.

"oh? you like that? you like getting your nipples played with? how cute." you managed, tweaking his hardened buds with a sadistic smirk. he sobbed, tears of pleasure rushing from his eyes. it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back. but he refused to come before you.

forcing his mind out of the euphoric haze, he put his hands and hips to work, drilling into you with every ounce of strength he had.

he managed to hit your sweet spot with every powerful thrust. and before you knew it, you were coming faster than you'd ever come before, vision filling with blinding stars, body going rigid above his and trembling uncontrollably. your walls constructed around him as you came with the most mind numbing orgasm you'd ever experienced, and that was just enough encouragement to have him exploding inside of you with a loud cry.

"fuck– fuck, y/n, fuck," he moaned, riding out his high with hard, sloppy thrust. you could only manage a weak whimper from oversensitivity, slumping on top of him, completely and utterly spent.

you laid them for at least five minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath and collect the wits that had just seemed to implode.

unexpectedly, you let out a bellowing laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as his lazily looped around your back. "shit, Jeon. didn't know you had it in you," you giggled airily, kissing his shoulders in a surprisingly tender gesture.

he smiled, giggling along with you. "you brought it out of me."

"oh, I'm flattered, gorgeous," you cooed playfully, plastering kisses across his cheeks. he lightly swatted you away, squirming as you tickled at his sides.

with a soft sigh, you pushed yourself off of him. he watched in confusion as you grabbed his clothes off the floor, handing them to him. you chuckled when you saw the worried look on his face, leaning down to press a reassuring kiss to his lips. "as much as I enjoy cuddling after a good fuck, you should probably ditch before my parents get home. they’re not always so welcoming to strangers."

his shoulders relaxed, realizing you weren't just going to kick him to the curb after giving him the best afternoon of his life.

"understandable," he swiftly tugged on his shirt, followed by his pants and messily stuffed book bag. he turned back to you with a hopeful glimmer in his dark eyes, and a shy blush coating his cheeks. it was amazing that he was still so bashful after having just fucked your brains out.

"you'll... you'll text me... right?"

you laughed softly, cupping his jaw and drawing him into one last kiss. "how could I not?"

he grinned giddily, pecking your lips in his excitement. "okay! okay, good!" He coughed quickly, trying to cap his happiness, "I mean— cool, cool. very cool. I'll see you tomorrow. have a good— uh, night!"

you shook your head with a soft smile as he darted out the front door, closing it gently behind him.

"I might just have to keep you around, Jeon."

#jungkook #sub!jungkook #sub!bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts reactions #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagine

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dramioneasks · 4 years ago

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HP FESTS: Dramione RomCom Fest (Part 1)

Dramione RomCom Fest 2020:

12 Years and 3 Months by pixiedustandbluebutterflies - T, one-shot - As news of their engagement takes Wizarding England by storm, elusive power couple Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are finally sharing their love story in this Witch Weekly interview!

50 (First) Dates with Hermione Granger by HufflepuffMommy - G, WIP - Draco Malfoy sets his heart on romancing Hermione Granger, but she has short-term memory loss; she can't remember anything that happened the day before. So every morning, Draco has to woo her again. Her friends are very protective, and Draco must convince them that he's in it for love. Plot (andsummary) taken from the movie "50 First Dates" for the Dramione RomCom fest!

About Time by WordsmithMusings - E, WIP - When Draco's Father reveals to him that the men in their family have the ability to travel back in time, he uses his newfound gift to do many things - save a life, be a better friend, reconnect with a witch, and fall in love.

All's well that ends well (to end up with you) by weestarmeggie - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger is all set to be the maid of honor at her best friends wedding. She is taken back when she finds out that the best man is none other than her ex-fiance.

Away by In_Dreams - E, WIP - Desperate for a change of pace, Hermione unknowingly commits to a home exchange with Pansy Parkinson and finds herself swept up in the chaos of New York City and into the arms of Draco Malfoy. Dramione/Hansy. Loosely inspired by The Holiday.

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19 - T, WIP - Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer.

Chasing the Future by Rdlentz8 - T, WIP - An unusual and anonymous Patronus finds a frustrated Hermione alone in the library and talks to her about being lonely. Could this be the push she's needed to change her fate? Inspired by A Cinderella Story. There are direct quotes from A Cinderella Story.

Domino Effect by KoraKwidditch - M, WIP - Resolved to live her life in Muggle London, Hermione Granger finally felt free. Free from the Ministry, free from her celebrity status and everything that entailed. But who knew that one cataclysmal incident would lead her straight into the Malfoy's den and down a series of unfortunate events? At least they think she's a Muggle.**A Dramione retelling of While You Were Sleeping**

Fairytales and Wishes by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - All Scorpius wants is for Hermione to be a nice step mother, but somehow that sort of gets lost in translation with his accidental magic.

Flipping Through the Pages by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy had a fascination with a popular book series and its writer. His life changes when he meets her.

The Hate List by bethelson - T, WIP - While chaperoning the post graduation trip, Hermione and Draco find themselves wandering the streets of Paris in the middle of the night, fruitlessly searching for the seventh years they were supposed to be in charge of. What Hermione doesn’t know, is that those seventh years struck a bargain with Draco to keep her occupied so they could sneak out for a last hurrah before they all head back to London. So in his efforts to derail her search, he convinces her to join him in their own night of frivolity. As they paint the city red, they slowly learn to let their guards down, and find that putting the past behind them allows them to finally focus on the present. ___ My contribution to the Dramione RomCom Fest!

Hollywood & Vine by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead), msmerlin - M, WIP - As the manager of an occult bookstore currently renting a room from an old friend and living paycheck to paycheck, Hermione wasn’t exactly living the Hollywood dream. But her life is turned upside down when a chance encounter with Tinseltown’s current heartthrob, Draco Malfoy, leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about life and love. or the one in which Hermione unintentionally falls in love with a movie star.

Home is Where the Heart Is by lrs002 - T, one-shot - A rewrite and Draco/Hermione look at basically the last scenes of the movie Sweet Home AlabamaOr in the other words: The Wedding and the Kiss

How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days by GracefulLioness - E, WIP - Hermione will do anything to prove to her boss at Witch Weekly that she's ready to take on more serious topics, including dating a man just to drive him away for the sake of her next column, How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days. But pushing Draco Malfoy away proves to be a challenging task, perhaps because he's got ten days to make her fall in love with him. Inspired by How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

It Happened One Knight by Klawdee - T, WIP - “A spoiled heir running away from his family is helped by an old classmate, who is actually a journalist in need of a story.” Based off of the 1934 film, It Happened One Night

It's All In The Malfoy Family by TwilightToMidnight - M, one-shot - Over a decade of longing and desire comes to fruition one night. Not quite the way Hermione expected but definitely with a bang. Everyone and their dog seem to be working against her. For the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest. Loosely based off Sabrina (1954 - with Audrey Hepburn).

Love, Actually in Dramione by Blessedindeed - G, one-shot - I absolutely love the movie "Love, Actually" and was so excited to make some art pieces from a few of the more memorable scenes! Many thanks and kudos to QuinTalon & NuclearNik for hosting and being such amazing encouragers to everyone! I cannot wait to dive into all these fun pieces!!

Love, Hermione by pandora_rose_xo - G, WIP - When Hermione leaves some personal letters lying around in a sleepy haze, Dobby comes across them, and trying to be helpful delivers them to their recipients. Who were never supposed to see them.

Metamorphosis by persephone_stone - T, WIP - Draco Malfoy is king of Hogwarts High—student body president, captain of both the water polo and basketball teams, and boyfriend of Astoria Greengrass, the hottest girl in school. That is, until said girlfriend returns from Spring Break with some unexpected news: she’s dumping him for a college boy. Now, Draco is on a mission to win her back. And who better to help him turn into a more intellectual, cultured version of himself than Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in school? As he and Hermione spend time together, will Draco learn how to be the right type of boyfriend for Astoria? Or will he instead learn that maybe Astoria is not the right type of girl for him? Written for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on the 90’s teen romcom She’s All That.

Midnight in Paris by Aneiria - E, one-shot - ‘Granger,’ Draco replied, casting a quick wandless charm to clean his own clothes. ‘Want to watch the magic you’re casting next time? Whatever spell that was, it nearly took both of us out.’ Hermione’s face settled into a frown of confusion. ‘I thought that was you,’ she said, hesitantly. ‘I wasn’t using magic.’ They both looked away at the same time, taking in their surroundings. ‘Where are we?’ Hermione wondered out loud, as she spun on the spot and took in the sights. It was the wrong question, really.

My Big Fat Muggle Wedding by BiscuitsForPotter - G, one-shot - Draco's gotten more used to having Muggles as future-in-laws, but what about his parents?

No More Waiting by anchoredto717 - T, one-shot - The end of Hogwarts, an impending Mastery, and confirmation that Hermione is well and truly over Ronald Weasley: three factors that push Draco into a place he never imagined. Is he really going to Harry Potter’s house party? A one shot heavily inspired by the 90s teen classic, Can’t Hardly Wait.

Off the Rails by RoseHarperMaxwell - E, WIP - For the Dramione RomCom Fest 💚 My adaptation of the movie Trainwreck (Amy Schumer/Bill Hader), featuring Draco in Amy's role. “Pans.” Draco’s head falls back petulantly. “I can't interview Granger, especially not about how she's healing Potter. Neither of them are going to want to talk to me. Make Creevey do it.” “No, you'll do it. And don't sulk at me, Draco.” Pansy shuts him down immediately, not that he expected to talk her out of it. She gives assignments, not suggestions. “Old Quidditch rivalries. Gryffindor Princess confiding in the Prince of Slytherin, with a side of The Boy Who Lived. You’re the only one for it.” She drops her pen on her notepad with finality. “She’s also fit as hell now. I’d even fuck her, so our readers will be drooling over her. This is easy, Draco. Don’t fuck it up.”

One Thing We've Got by IrisCalasse - M, WIP - Over a decade after the Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy is a broke socialite straddling the Muggle and magical worlds. One day a new neighbour moves in his residential complex. What has happened to Hermione Granger to make her hide from Ronald Weasley? If Cormac McLaggen is gay, why is he hanging around Granger so much? And why does her cat seem to know way too much about everything? Based on the plot of Breakfast at Tiffany's, but set in 2012 London with a magical twist. Updates every 16th of the month.

Pin down your heart by hiyas - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger contemplates a door when Destiny comes knocking.

Playing Cupid by tygermine - T, one-shot - Set It Up AU.

Pretty Witch by TakingFlight48 - E, WIP - When confronted with the opportunity to take on an alter ego - Hermione Granger, Potion's Mistress and the Wizarding World's Golden Girl became Vivian Roberts - London's weekend escort. For three years she lived in this duality until Draco Malfoy, lost in Soho and driving a precious DB6, wound up uncovering her secret. This is the tale of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy finding a balance between work and love through the guise of fake dating, unacknowledged feelings, and Hermione not wanting to let go of a part of herself that is no longer serving her.

Promises, Promises by Musyc - T, one-shot - Lawyer and social work advocate Hermione Granger is one signature away from fulfilling her dream to have a house-elf education program. All she needs is to seal the deal, and Draco Malfoy has promised the full support of Malfoy and Son Developments. But the owner of the property is balking, there's a new buyer in the mix, and a promise isn't a contract.

The Proposal by FaeOrabel - M, WIP - When Head of Creatures Division of the DMLE, Hermione Granger, is pushed into a corner regarding a new marriage law she doesn't want to comply with, she gets the brilliant idea to stage an engagement with her long time, loyal assistant, Draco Malfoy. Draco goes along with the charade on the condition she gets him promoted to a new position. A deal set, they prepare to fool not only the Minister of Magic, but Hermione's best friend, and Draco's entire family. What could go wrong? Just the threat of Azkaban should they fail.

PS I love you by emotionalsupporthufflepuff - M, WIP - After a tragic accident, Hermione must reintroduce Draco to a life they've built far away from home. She recieves unexpected help in a series of letter written by Draco himself before the accident...

Regrets Only by nztina - T, WIP - Draco and Hermione are the best of friends - until Hermione goes off to teach at Hogwarts and Draco realises that he doesn’t just miss her. Upon her return to London, he intends to reveal his feelings, but she has a surprise of her own, one that will definitely put a damper on Draco’s plans. Draco. Hermione. And...Hermione’s fiancé?

Restless in Ripon by QuinTalon - T, WIP - Scorpius Malfoy wants his father to be happy again and as his grandfather often told him, a Malfoy always gets what he wants. A nosy radio host, well-meaning friends, and fate will help bring two lonely souls together. Well, that and one tenacious eight-year-old.

Rushing Back by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy is thirty, surviving, and very much not thriving. He's near the utter end of himself when he experiences the worst of all possible bad days--a double betrayal that rocks him to his core. Unmoored, untethered, he winds up in a strange place, where he begins an adventure through time that will change the course of his life. A time travel fic with a twist on the movie "13 Going on 30."

Say Anything by MidnightValkyrie - G, 9 Chapters - To know Draco Malfoy is to love him. Hermione Granger is about to know Draco Malfoy. Written and created for the Dramione RomCom Fest, based on Say Anything.

She's the Snake by monsterleadmehome - E, WIP - In a universe where Voldemort never came back, Harry lives with Sirius, and Dumbledore isn't dying, the worst thing the Golden Trio has to contend with is their grades and Quidditch matches... oh, and the recent magical attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns. Harry is sure Malfoy had something to do with it, and though Hermione doesn't agree, her sarcastic offer somehow turns into her latest nightmare: to go undercover as a boy in the Slytherin dorms and find out what's really going on. And maybe throw a Quidditch game or two. But there's one thing she hasn't prepared for: falling in love with the boy she's supposed to be spying on.

Signed and Sealed by niffizzle - M, WIP - She owns a children's bookstore. He runs a corporation buying significant shares of small businesses. Never in their lives have Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy gotten along — or so they think.

Timing is Everything by anne_ammons - M, 7 Chapters - Draco Malfoy is your average bachelor living an average bachelor's life, until he crosses paths with his former classmate, Hermione Granger. Strike that - when has Draco Malfoy ever been average? A retelling of the 1994 movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Dramione-style.

A Trip to Kouloura Beach by rennaissance_woman - one-shot - A day at the beach, what could happen?

The Truth About Kneazles and Crups by samkablam7 - T, WIP - When Draco Malfoy started hosting his wizarding radio show The Truth About Kneazles and Crups, he had no idea that it would bring Hermione Granger back into his life. He also didn't know that they would both be interested in each other. The only problem? She thinks that the radio host she's interested in is his best friend and Pro-Quidditch-player-wannabe, Blaise Zabini.

Untitled Marital Crisis Comedy by Darlingheart - G, one-shot - Draco is rich, handsome, and most importantly, excellent with the ladies. Harry Potter is not. Which is where Draco comes in. With Draco’s help Harry will learn there’s more to life than being a one-woman man. But what happens when Draco meets someone who changes his mind? And what does Hermione Granger have to do with it...

A Woman of Some Dignity by mcal - G, one-shot - That seemed to get his attention. “What are you—of course I respect you, you daft witch!”

“Your actions today show the opposite!” I answered. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a woman of some dignity and I’d like to shower in peace. You’ll kindly wait half an hour before Apparating back to my flat.” Hermione's not one for diaries, but it's been a week to say the least. It all started off with a confusing meeting with Draco Malfoy in her office, and... well, Hermione thought maybe recording her thoughts on the events would help her process. She isn't wrong.

You lost and lonely, You just like heaven by Wake_The_Dragon - T, WIP - Dramione Romcom Fest. Hermione Granger had needed something new and a change of scenery was a good start. What she hadn't counted on was renting a flat with an annoying (if handsome) ghost, who claims he isn't dead. Somehow, helping out a ghost and falling in love were two things she hadn't bargained for.

You Wish by Talonwillow (Ehollis303) - T, WIP - What makes a bad case of "Black Cat Flu" more tolerable? Young Perseus is learning that hearing about dueling, torture, revenge, giants, dementors, chases, true love, and miracles from his Grandfather Scorpius certainly makes things easier- If the man would finish the story that is. A story about love, where not even death can keep the beautiful feisty stable-girl and her sometimes irritating one true love apart. Together they must battle the evil Lord Voldemort through an adventure crossing the magical and fairy tale realm.

#Fests/Exchanges/Challenges #dramione #Dramione RomCom Fest #humour #fluff #based on other book or movie plot

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masterqwertster · 1 year ago

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Makeup artist and /or Library AU? Your pick

-@inconmess

Prompt

Okay, I'mma go with Library 'cause I don't know much about makeup.

I think this could be one of those Secret Society/Supernatural Library things in a Modern AU setting with an Urban Fantasy masquerade going on. Because really, Bells Hells is not particularly academically inclined, but would make sense as a messy magic archive/protectors team getting up to shenanigans.

So let's give it a whirl!

Bells Hells Secret Library AU

Welcome to the Secret Library, where everyone is strange. Except Orym. Though the fact that he's so normal could be strangest of all.

Finding the Secret Library

Imogen and Laudna are searching for answers on the oddities of their lives. Imogen became psychic without explanation at 18. Laudna was killed and buried 30 years ago, only to come out of the grave mostly alive but still a bit dead and literally haunted by the woman who killed her

The ladies travel a bunch, looking for answers in whatever libraries or other places of education they can get in to. They get a lot of nothing for their efforts. Just superstition, rumor, new age nonsense, con artist/magician biographies, etc. Just nothing concrete or useful to them

Eventually they end up at the Starpoint Conservatory in Jrusar

One day, Imogen isn't as careful as she usually is about hiding her abilities, and is spotted by Librarian Orym

Which as an aside, Orym is a short human in this AU for his super normal-ness. He's no taller than 5 feet tall

While the girls are stumbling over trying to explain away what Orym saw, he just smiles at them and says, "I think you ladies are in the wrong section of the library, if that's the sort of thing you're looking for" and ushers them deeper into the stacks to a hidden doorway that he unlocks

The girls are of course nervous, but also pretty desperate for answers at this point, so they follow Orym into this new section

It's definitely got a much better chance at the answers they seek, considering the first thing they see once Orym's guided them through the new stacks to some study tables is a goat woman, a werewolf, a living statue, and a robot playing cards at one of the tables

Secret Library Residents

Welcome to the Secret Library! (Cobalt Soul? just to use an Exandria thing for an organization name) Where the supernatural is documented, studied, and sometimes contained

The Jrusar branch is managed by Ariks Eshteross, with Orym as his Field Lead.

Orym replaced Bertrand Bell in this role after the old man met his untimely demise not too long after Orym joined the branch. Orym got the position mostly because he has no issues passing for normal outside the library and is one of the most levelheaded residents of the branch

Orym was sort of grandfathered into the Secret Library community by his marriage to Will, whose family has been Secret Librarians for generations

Unfortunately, in an attack on the Zephrah branch, Will and Derrig were killed by supernatural attackers. Orym couldn't bring himself to stay at that branch where his life fell apart, but didn't want to necessarily give up the work, so he took several transfers over the years before ending up in Jrusar

Fearne is just her fey self. She hopped over from the Fey Realm, caused some trouble, took a liking to Orym when he showed up to stop her troublemaking, and now she hangs around whatever library he works at, ready to help him out. Or cause mischief as her whims dictate

Chetney got bit by a werewolf at an elderly age, became a werewolf, was found by a Secret Library field team and brought back to get that shit under control, and decided to stick around to do fieldwork since it's not like he had anything better to do (plus he thinks the occasional violence is fun). Chet was only recently transferred to Jrusar after causing some trouble at the Uthodurn branch

Ashton has had a fucking life. Cultist parents who fucked with magic shit that killed them, killed their cult, and cursed Ashton to turn into living stone. He spent some time living on the street, doing his best to hide what he'd become because who knows what the government or some shit would do with him if they knew. Managed like that for a while (they were older when "Hishari" happened for this AU. and uninterested in their parents' weird shit in the usual teenage rebellion phase manner. Plus they were busy being/becoming punk) before a burglary went wrong and he ended up broken and dying. Lucky Ashton, Field Librarians found him, got him back to a Secret Library, and Milo (one of the artifact researchers) managed to save his life... by piling more (chaotic and strange) magic into his system. Ashton now lives in and works for the Secret Library because it's a living, he can safely be himself inside, and they provide a magic glamour item so he can sort of go outside without issue (he still has to be mindful of hiding his body's density and hardness when illusioned back to human)

FCG is an ancient magic robot from before the masquerade (Divergence) that was acquired by the Secret Library after poor Dancer reactivated him and then set off the murder mode that killed all her housemates and maimed her. FCG is happy to live in the Library and be helpful as he can (after Dancer kicked him out/willingly and happily surrendered him to the Secret Library)

The Story

Imogen and Laudna end up working for the Jrusar Secret Library branch while researching their own circumstances and becoming friends with the staff/residents

There's particularly weird stuff starting to happen all across the city. Animated furniture, exploding imp creatures in the tunnels and sewers, man-eating wall, etc. that the Field Team, named Bells Hells, is dealing with

So this would sort of follow the plot beats of canon, but altered for the setting

The overarching Big Bad Evil Guy plot is that Ludinus Da'leth (ex-Secret Librarian, maybe?) wants to break the masquerade that the Secret Librarians help curate. Everyone knows about magic, everyone can exploit magic. (He really just wants free range to collect all the magic stuff and install himself as an Ultimate Power instead of having to play Power Behind the Throne)

#MQ&A #MQ AU machine #Bells Hells Secret Library AU #critical role #bells hells

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gameofdrarry · 3 years ago

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Wizards Hearts Recs: Holiday Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 East of Eden by WriteSprite Rated: Explicit Words: 41,122 Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Parseltongue, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Biting, Drinking Games Summary: When Harry receives a dodgy brochure for an island vacation, he isn't sure he should attend. After a bit of a push, he decides to go for it and winds up spending the week in paradise. At least it would be, if it weren't for that pesky blond git. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take My Hand by daisymondays Rated: Explicit Words: 12814 Tags: Summer, Summer Romance, Pining, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, First Kiss, Drinking Games, Harry Potter Has Dimples, Draco Malfoy Can't Cope, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Auror Partners, Draco Has Feels To Spare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Meddling Friends, Touching, Soooo Much Touching, HP: EWE Summary: Draco has long resigned himself to pining after Harry... that is until an invite on the annual Ministry holiday gives him a chance to change everything. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 December Never Felt So Wrong by MaesterChill Rated: Explicit Words: 50001 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Angst, Mystery, time skip, 00's Music Sung Badly, Fluff, Amnesia, A niffler, 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2018, curse magic, Knitting, Sex, Cuddles, Blow Jobs, First Time Sex, wanking, Advent Fic, Christmas, Magical Artifacts, Falling In Love, Magical Theory, drarry dads, Rimming, Memory Loss, A tiny bell, Sharing a Bed, Dad Jokes, Cursed objects Summary: 'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side. All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Tell Me the End at the Beginning by harryromper Rated: Teen and Up Words: 36591 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, St Mungo's Hospital, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Hermione Granger, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Christmas Presents, Christmas Decorations, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Food Hall Turkeys, Advent Calendar, Healer Luna Lovegood, Kreacher, Minor Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Yule Logs, Misheard Christmas carols Summary: St Mungo’s is the last place anyone wants to spend the festive season. Harry finds himself there anyway. Or: Harry's an Auror suspended from duty, Malfoy's wearing the hell out of three-piece suits, Hermione is entirely over everything, and Kreacher just wants to be left alone to decorate for Christmas. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Too Cold Outside (For Angels to Fly) by gracerene Rated: Explicit Words: 62688 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-Hogwarts, Creature Fic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Veela Draco Malfoy, Veela (Harry Potter), Auror Partners, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Aurors, Case Fic, Murder Mystery, Mild Gore, Advent Calendar, Christmas, Drinking, Scotland, United Kingdom, Muggle London, POV Alternating, Coffee Shops, Past Character Death, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Crime Fighting, Duelling, Burns, Blood and Injury, Bars and Pubs, Getting Together, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Bisexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Anal Sex, Riding, Shower Sex, Hand Jobs, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2019, Switching, Wings, Wing Kink, Veela Mates, Mating Bond, Anal Fingering, Bonding, Dirty Talk Summary: The Auror Department and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are working to create a new division partnering human wizards and Magical Beings in order to more effectively police crime involving any and all classifications of Magical Creature. Auror Harry Potter jumps at the chance to join the pilot programme, but he starts to regret his rashness when he discovers who he's to be partnered with: Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 If the Fates Allow by Saras_Girl Rated: Mature Words: 80957 Tags: N/A Summary: What's that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He'll eat some cake and drink some wine Because he is completely FINE. --A story about life's disregard for our plans. [2017 advent story] ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A New Peace by MalenkayaCherepakha Rated: Explicit Words: 5566 Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex Summary: Of all the people Draco expected to walk into his cafe in Muggle London, Harry Potter was not one of them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 flashback, warm nights by warmfoothills Rated: Mature Words: 13068 Tags: Deathly Hallows AU, or more specifically, the godric’s hollow christmas shitshow of 1997, but with ron and draco!, and no snake-animated corpses!, instead:, Grand theft auto, a lot of blood, teenage fugitives, a time loop, Horcrux Hunting, one psychopathic quinquagenarian, Bodily Injuries, the ~power of love, Breaking and Entering, hospital food, questionable headwear, kissing in the backseat, kissing in the freezer aisle, Kissing in the Snow Summary: “What’s killing me is that I actually quite fucking like Christmas, festival-for-a-personally-irrelevant-religion-turned-commercialised-garbage-holiday though it may be, and now I’m stuck in the perpetual almost-there of it all with an idiot who gets himself cut up every time no matter how differently I try and do things!” “Killing you?” Potter asks. “I thought I was the one who’s about to get my torso sliced into?” ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl Rated: Mature Words: 61080 Tags: N/A Summary: Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 With A Little Help From Hermione by naarna Rated: Teen and Up Words: 6983 Tags: N/A Summary: Secret Santa at Hogwarts with every House participating in the name of unity... And Hermione suddenly finds herself in the position of a matchmaker. ❤️ Read on Fanfiction.net

📜 Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout Rated: Teen and Up Words: 29793 Tags: University, Wizarding World of the United States of America, Americans, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Librarian Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Pet Snake, Parselmouth Harry Potter, College Student Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Anxious Harry Potter, Baby Gay Draco Malfoy, Bisexual Harry Potter, Friendship, Family Dinners, Halloween parties, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Romance, Misunderstandings, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Book Fair Summary: Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The 12 Dates of Draco by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn) Rated: Explicit Words: 16808 Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, Light Angst, Christmas Smut, Anal Sex Summary: Holiday dialing, desperate attempts at reconciliation, and 12 blind dates with Draco Malfoy... oh my! OR The day Harry just can't seem to get past. But what is the universe trying to tell him? And when did Draco Malfoy get so bloody fit? He's got 12 days to figure it out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Christmas Is For Sex (and Love), So Give It To Me by GoldenTruth813 Rated: Explicit Words: 53218 Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Christmas, Bondage, misuse of frosting, making gingerbread houses, coming without touching, Blowjobs, Fingering, anal penetration, Rimming, misuse of fairy lights, Praise Kink, Nipple Clamps, erotic massages, Lingerie, Harry in Lingerie, Butt Plugs, Masterbation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Topping from the Bottom, Ice Play, misuse of snowballs, misuse of brandy custard, veritasium, Public Sex, misuse of christmas candles, Wax Play, floating blow jobs, bubble baths, Candy Canes, misuse of candy canes, sex with feelings, Clubbing, naughty letters, babysitting teddy, Edging, healing past trauma, really so much more than sex, but lots of sex too, spiked hot cocoa, Drunk confessions, Anal penetration with a foreign object, french!draco, Switching Summary: Draco buys Harry an Advent House, intent on helping Harry create all new holiday memories, and have a lot of great sex in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 As it Should Be by leo_draconis Rated: Mature Words: 5670 Tags: N/A Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Draco's world has just shattered around him. Will a Christmas miracle give him a second chance? ❤️ Read on LJ

📜 Dream by the Fire by GallifreyisBurning Rated: Mature Words: 11431 Tags: Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Non-Explicit Sex, No Angst, seriously no angst whatsoever, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Coffee Shop Owner Harry Potter, Writer Draco Malfoy, Tattooed Draco Malfoy, Magical Tattoos, Memory Magic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Wizarding History (Harry Potter), Friends to Lovers Summary: When Draco Malfoy resurfaces in England after eight years abroad—tattooed, pierced, and wanting to take over a corner of Harry's coffee shop to work on a writing project—Harry can't help but be intrigued. Where has he been? What is he working on? Why here? And why does he have to look so stupidly hot with all those tattoos? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The best Christmas he ever had by gnarf Rated: Teen And Up Words: 1965 Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Post-War, Fred Weasley Lives, Christmas at the Burrow (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, Drinking, Dancing, Family Feels Summary: Christmas had never been less appealing to him than this year. That was until Arthur Weasley showed up at his door, dressed as Santa, inviting him to the Burrow. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The One Where Ginny Keeps a Secret, Sort of by Theartfulldodger Rated: Teen And Up Words: 4039 Tags: Fluff, Christmas, Established Relationship, Non-Linear Narrative, Group Vacation Summary: Harry is determined to have a good time with Ginny and Pansy for a trip to NYC over the winter holidays, even if Draco can't join them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Adventures in Truth and Texting by fluxweed Rated: Explicit Words: 7981 Tags: Texting, Drunk Texting, Sexting, Veritaserum, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Auror Harry Potter, Drinking, Christmas, Advent Fic, Awkwardness, everyone has phones, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary: Former Death Eaters are being targeted with a Veritaserum curse – it’s permanent, and makes victims speak aloud their every thought. Luckily, it’s easier to control when writing – and Hermione is trying to introduce Muggle technology to the wizarding world. An advent fic featuring texting, identity struggles, and a Draco Malfoy who will literally not stop talking. ❤️ Read on AO3

#holiday #vacation #drarry #drarry rec #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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an-absolute-travesty · 4 years ago

Text

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42 @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

#hope you like this elliot!#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kam #keefe sencen #tam song #kotlc fic #scheduled to post at 9 am and ill reblog once i get back to my phone because ill be doing x-mas stuff

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thestraggletag · 4 years ago

Text

The Game, a Rumbelle Chess AU

Summary: Inspired by The Queen’s Gambit. When Arran Gold first lost a chess game against Belle French, he thought that nothing would feel better than wining against her. But the more he lost, the less he minded, and more eager he was for their next game.

AN: Look, it’s a bad summary but a good fic, I promise. Also both games described in the fic are real games that can be played. Here, for example, is their last game.

Rating: Explicit.

He couldn’t recall exactly when the tradition had begun. Long ago, when he had only owned about half the town and had yet to adopt his more refined image. A tenant, a once-wealthy businessman who had once had “old money” and had wasted it away in reckless business ventures, had challenged him to a game of chess in lieu of the rent. He had likely thought that Mr Gold, a lowborn Scotsman with a thick brogue and brusque manners, was unlikely to even know the rules of chess. He had trounced the fool in less than twenty minutes, and only because he had toyed with him first.

Chess, after all, was something he knew well. His aunties had taught him as a child, but it hadn’t been till university that he had gotten to love the game, after finding out there was a veritable underground circuit of contests and tournaments that could pay his way through law school. He had developed an irreverent yet aggressive style, completely unpolished but completely brutal. In spite of his quickly-gained reputation he had never lacked opponents. There were always posh idiots who were sure their sophisticated gameplay could beat his street smarts. They were never correct. He had developed a nickname, over the years, given to him in honour of his savage style of play and his ruthless approach to the game: Beast. He considered quite a compliment.

He had thought about going pro, entering formal tournaments and acquiring a ranking, but the life of a chess player, and even that of a grandmaster, wasn’t particularly profitable compared to practicing law or going into business and he aimed to accumulate wealth and power as much of it and as fast as possible. He had kept up with his secret hobby, though, sometimes catching televised tournaments or reading about them later, enjoying the process of dissecting a game, sometimes thinking of how he would have won against a particular opponent. But it had never occurred to him to play against anyone in Storybrooke till the challenge came. It had attracted lots of attention at the time and people had turned up at the library that Sunday to watch them play.

Though he won, other people sought to challenge him, to the point where he had decided to establish an event of sorts. A chess day, once a year, in which anyone could challenge him. If they won he would forgive their rent for an entire year. There was no penalty for losing, at least none outright, but the shame of defeat meant most people challenged him only once. Besides it kept everyone from complaining during rent day for the rest of the year. And, he had to admit, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed playing cat and mouse with people, exerting power over them, watching as people’s confidence shrunk down and melted away.

He always looked forward to chess day, though that year perhaps less so. Storybrooke had acquired a new librarian around eight months before and, in spite of all of his efforts, she did not think ill of him. Belle French was, apparently, immune to the gossip of the town about him and his own brusque manner and dark humour. She even seemed to enjoy the later, which made him uneasy and… nervous. A strange, unsettling form of nervous.

It didn’t help that she was insultingly kind, surprisingly sarcastic and delightfully witty. The sort of person that could spar with words and make it look effortless. And smart enough to know that though he pretended to hate it, he loved it. She was also, regrettably, gorgeous. Smaller than him, with reddish brown hair and electric-blue eyes. An accent that wrapped around his name like a lover and an actual sense of fashion, which was almost unheard of in Storybrooke and the only thing most people seemed to hold against her, the town matrons disapproving of her short skirts and high heels. There was also a disarming quirkiness about her, a sense that she was somewhat otherworldly, like she belonged half to the mortal plain and half to the realm of stories and fantasies. He had seen her more than once walk around town lost in a book, dreamy-eyed and clearly miles away from the little town. He was always fascinated by how dreamlike she looked, how otherworldly.

Though he had tried to make her hate him for the first few months of their acquaintance, he had grown used to failing, and admitted to himself that it felt nice to have someone who would smile genuinely at the sight of him, who would treat him with kindness, who would be eager for his company and did not consider talking to him to be a chore. So he wasn’t looking forward to Miss French being exposed to angry tenants who called him names when he beat them, and wasn't really looking forward to her seeing him dash people’s hopes ruthlessly.

It couldn’t be helped, though. And perhaps it was for the best, to have her see what everyone else saw. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. So he washed and shaved carefully that day and had a hearty breakfast- chess day tended to take up all of his morning and most of the afternoon, and he did not like having to take a break to eat, knowing that his stamina added to the image of him as some larger-than-life monster. He dressed with care, picking his favourite purple striped shirt and matching paisley tie. He added his sleeve garters and square cufflinks, though he was not expecting those to be visible at any point during the day. It still felt nice, empowering, to be impeccably dressed.

By the time he reached the library there was already a crowd there, as well as the customary barren table, awaiting his chess set. He always played with the same set, an ebony and boxwood one from House of Staunton. It had the classical Staunton look and the hand carved pieces had a nice heft to them. He had bought it years ago, one of his first purchases after beginning to make serious money, costing him well over a thousand pounds back in the day. Not by any means among the more costly of chess sets, but the price spoke of its fine quality.

He set the board down and opened the box with his pieces, arranging the whites on the side of the board furthest from him and setting the blacks on his side, careful to properly align the knights and position the pawns at the centre of their squares. He took out his clock next, which he had cleaned and serviced the day before, and sat down on his customary, throne-like bergère, the one that usually was the focal point of the Ancient History’s reading nook. In contrast the chair opposite him was one of the plain, serviceable ones that populated the study room at the library. He hoped, for his own amusement, that whoever had set up the place had picked the wobbly one.

It wasn’t long after he settled that a crowd formed around him, but it took almost half an hour for the first challenger to present themselves. It was, surprisingly enough, Dr Whale. The good doctor was one of the few people in town that made a nice, tidy six-figure income, mostly from his private practice. Whale, whoever, did like to live above his means, and it seemed it had finally caught up with him. Though he did not rent a house from him, he did rent his private office from him. It was large and well-located, and likely to detract quite a bit from his overall profit.

The doctor looked cocky, in spite of Mr Gold’s infamous reputation around town as a chess player. And he didn’t even have to speculate as to why. Victor Whale was the prototypical Ivy-league alumnus, likely played chess for Dartmouth, his undergraduate alma mater, or Brown, where he had acquired his MD. He may perhaps once been ranked, if his smug grin was any indication. He took pains to hide his own savage smile, not willing to give his prey any hint of the carnage to come.

He drew it out, both for the audience and for the sheer pleasure of watching all of the doctor’s confidence and arrogance melt away, leaving an increasingly obfuscated and delightfully sweaty mess behind. And once he knew that he had pushed him as far as he could go he had gone in for the jugular, watching in delight as his opponent toppled his king. The crow murmured, unhappy. When he dragged a game out sometimes people got the idea that he might be struggling, that his challenger might actually have a chance. He enjoyed dashing that hope every single time.

As he rearranged the pieces back to their starting positions he caught a glimpse of a tweed flare skirt swishing about a familiar set of tight-clad legs. Miss French, as always, was impeccably dressed, the black sheer floral blouse a bit daring, perhaps, but carefully hidden by the demure cardigan she had over it. Her hair was in a French braid, the end tied together with a lovely silk ribbon in the same muted plum colour as her cardigan. He wondered at her clothes, which he recognised as high quality, likely expensive as hell. It cemented his idea that she came from money, and likely worked out of a genuine passion for books rather than necessity. Just as he studied her earrings-lovely gold studs in the shape of blooming roses, she turned her head, catching his eyes. He saw interest and curiosity, but no fear or disgust. Perhaps Whale was too unlikeable a victim to elicit sympathy from her.

Frederick Knight was next, playing not for a reprieve from his own rent- his teacher’s salary might not be impressive, but his wife pulled some major money working from home for a law firm in Boston- but for the pet shelter he volunteered out. Briefly he wondered how it all worked, how he could volunteer at the shelter run by his wife’s ex-husband, who had cheated on her with one of Knight’s own colleagues, causing the divorce that would eventually leave her free and available for them to meet and fall in love. Gold thought it was all rather unseemly.

The lad was smart, he would give him that. All that strategizing for baseball clearly carried on to chess, to a certain extent. Mr Knight clearly saw at least a few moves ahead, even if he did not have the skill to plan and anticipate more than that. In the end, because he was a decent enough bloke, Gold put him out of his misery quickly. It felt bad to drag it out unnecessarily. The man was gracious about defeat as well, something that was rare, offering his hand for a quick, firm shake, before leaving the board, no doubt to sink into the welcoming arms of Ms Midas. Though married, she had chosen to keep her last name, after the hassle it had been to change it back after the divorce. And yet there was no doubt that she loved her new husband more than she tolerated her ex, which even the strictest traditionalist in Storybrooke had to acknowledge.

More people challenged him, as was the norm. Out of all of them only Mr Prentice put much of a fight. Gold could tell he was a man of some talent, and an old hand at the game, but too by-the-book to beat him. He implemented moves and strategies well, but did not have a creative bone in his body. A pity, really. He was the only one after Mr Knight to be mature in defeat, sadly. By the time four o’clock rolled around three people had upended the board after they had lost and at least one had made a move as if to punch him in the face.

He reset the board with little expectation of playing again. It was late, the crowd was thinning, and people’s enthusiasm had died down considerably. He excused himself to go to the restroom, enjoying the brief walk after hours of sitting down. When he went back to the board, however, he froze up. Sitting on the challenger’s chair was the librarian herself, carefully unbinding her hair as she half-listened to something Miss Lucas was telling her.

He hadn’t foreseen this, the notion that the librarian might wish to challenge him. He had become resigned to having her smiles dimmed when they were directed at him, but nothing more. Certainly not this.

“Miss French, I didn’t know you played.”

His voice was, by some miracle, even. The librarian smiled, shaking her hair out and wrapping the now unused ribbon around her fingers.

“I used to, some time ago. Still do, sometimes. In my head.”

She said that last part quietly, only for his ears.

“Well, what are the stakes going to be? Rent forgiven from the library for a year?”

“Oh, not, that would be too much. And I’m not sure that would be good for the library. That much money would surely go to what the mayor considers more… lucrative pursuits. But I thought, perhaps, that you could lower the rent of the library by a certain percentage, enough to cover for my apartment. I could use the extra money to refurbish the children’s section, and replace some stock. I could do without another brawl about who gets the last copy of The Polar Express come Christmastime.”

He smiled in spite of the cold spreading across his chest, constricting his lungs. He would be quick, he decided, better to have it over as soon as possible, so that afterwards perhaps Miss Lucas could coax Miss French into a consolatory drink or a slice of apple pie, her favourite. It wouldn’t be too bad, he convinced himself, and it would endear her to the other townspeople, that she braved the beast in pursuit of better reading experiences for their children.

He started her watch, a bit surprised when she moved right away, dragging a pretty white pawn to e4. He counted with his opposing pawn, and in his next move he captured his first piece, another pawn she had likely moved unsuspectingly into the line of his attacking one. She took out her knight then, and later a bishop, but he played more conservatively, using mainly his pawns, waiting for the moment where he could unfurl some of his more devastating attacks. He was startled by her castling her king. It gave him a firm idea that she was no amateur, and he adjusted to this new insight accordingly. He advanced his pawns further, seeing little overall sense and reason to her movements. She had her queen out, as well as a bishop, but had taken her knight back in and her pawns were scattered about, presenting little challenge.

And then she moved her bishop, lightning fast, and suddenly he was in check and the game did not look as it had a second before. He studied the board more carefully, instincts telling him there was danger in there. What once had looked devoid of logic now seemed elegant and strangely coordinated.

Like a dance, he thought. And somehow familiar.

He moved his king, and noticed people suddenly paying attention. She took her bishop away, looking amused, and he pressed on with his queen’s pawn, losing his first piece one move later. Feeling his hackles rising he took one of his bishops out, losing another pawn a second later after she took one of her knights out again. He disposed of it in the next move, thinking he had finally seen her make a mistake, but her rook advanced, threatening his king and bishop. He moved the former, thinking he was sure to lose the other piece, but surprisingly she moved her queen instead. Far from putting him at ease it was that move that made him aware that he was in front of a person that could likely beat him. And, almost against his will, the thought rose the competitive beast in him.

He went savage, increasing the aggressiveness of his moves to an obscene degree. A chance look at Miss French, however, let him know that she found it amusing. She leaned over the board with interest, head tilted to a side and the fingers of her non-dominant hand tangled in her hair ribbon. Her eyes, barely visible from beneath her thick lashes from the way her face was tilted towards the board, sparkled, letting him know she was enjoying herself. Thoroughly.

He, on the other hand, felt strangely angry. Defensive. Exhilarated. He watched her as she made her bishops dance across the board, forcing him into another check and into a few defensive moves with his rooks, before her queen made her presence known once again, sliding across the board with both elegance and devastation. He took off his jacket, feeling too hot, and looked at the board again.

It was all so familiar. The style of play, he had seen it before. Like a dance, spontaneous yet choreographed, forcing him to respond in a certain way, backing him into a corner. He took one of her bishops and then a rook, when it came sliding into his side of the board, but it only made him feel more anxious, more like a creature trapped. Soon he was without his rooks and both his queen and his one remaining knight were in peril. But as he focused on them he missed the slow advance of a white pawn along the side of the board, flanked by the white queen and the remaining white rook. He sent his own queen out, trying to regain some semblance of control, but there wasn’t much the piece could do. In the end it was the queen, aided by the unassuming pawn, that forced his king into a checkmate.

“I believe the game is over, Mr Gold.”

The librarian’s accent softened the blow of those words. She looked up at him, happiness and excitement written across her face, as if she had gone through some marvelous experience. But it wasn’t the smile of a winner, but rather the smile of a conspirator.

“I believe the game was over ten moves ago, Miss French.”

He could admit that now, even as people cheered around him, rubbing salt on the newly-opened wound. He watched as Miss Lucas briefly enveloped the librarian in a side-hug before turning her attention to other people celebrating. Miss French, however, didn’t seem to want to join. She simply stared at the board and then at him as if this was their own private thing, their shared, secret joy.

It felt too intimate, and it made him even more angry, that she seemed to think that he had somehow enjoyed getting his arse thoroughly kicked by her. Brusquely he stood up, putting his jacket and coat on quickly before a well-placed snarl opened a way out from the mass of people gathered around the chessboard. He would go home and lick his wounds and figure out a way to repair the damage to his reputation after he reached the bottom of his half-drunk bottle of Balvenie Tun 1509.

It wasn’t until he was well and truly hungover that he realised, with a shock, that he had left his chess set behind. He left a message in Dove’s phone to have him call him back on Monday, so that he could instruct him to retrieve it for him. No need to go into the library for a few days. Or weeks. Might as well not step foot in it for the rest of the year, really. And no need to ever again think about the game, ever.

But after a couple of Tylenol and a lot of water, he found himself rethinking that last decision. There was something nagging at him about that game, and it would not let go of him. He knew he had seen that style of play before, but he could not recall where. He pulled up his collection of saved games, recreated from tournaments and world cups, and began analysing each of them, trying to find the same dreamlike, flowing style of play, like dancing. It wasn’t in the latest World Cup, or the one before, or in any of the recent tournaments. Not in the London Classic, or the Sinquefield Cup, or the Tata Steel. Not in any of the major American or European tournaments, so he branched out, looking at the Asian championships, the ACF Grand Prix and-

Something about the ACF gave him pause, so he went back through the tournaments he had saved, year after year. It wasn’t until he hit the 2006 Grand Prix that he saw it, a match where the blacks moved like in a ballet. He saw the name of the player, I. Avon, and did not recognise it at first. Then he searched for the recorded video of the match and realised why: I. Avon was Isabelle Avon, and she was usually known in internet circles by her nickname, Beauty. And the 2006 ACF Grand Prix had been her last major tournament. She had disappeared shortly after, and had caused a bit of a stir, specially amongst Australian chess enthusiasts, who thought she had the makings of a Grandmaster and even a top five world player.

And yet, somehow, she had ended up as a librarian in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Maine, living under a different name, for some fucking reason.

He wouldn’t let it go once he knew, trying to piece the puzzle together. He had never seen pictures of Beauty, there were no headshots to be had, likely because she had been an up-and-coming player at the time and a minor for most of her active years. He had seen videos of her playing, but her hair tended to obscure her face in most of them. She had not won her nickname on account of her looks- though how painfully fitting it was, considering how attractive she was- but because of her playing. People praised her for her beautiful moves, how she built this gorgeous ballet of a strategy that was as effective as it was enchanting.

She had been described, in the few articles that talked about her personality, as quirky. Odd. A calm player, given to the occasional smile and never able to lift her eyes off the board, a dreamy look on her face. Quite unsettling, some people had said.

She had dropped off the face of the chess world at age twenty, in 2006, and no one had heard from her again. Some people claimed to have played against her in an online tournament, but there was never a way to know for sure. He was sure now that at least some of these people were likely right. He delved more into whatever he could find about Isabelle Avon, but there wasn’t much. Though she had been at the time considered a chess prodigy she had been sheltered from press scrutiny likely by her parents, and had not given many interviews nor posed for many photographs. The few that circulated on the internet were of her as a very young teen, likely fifteen, when she had made her debut. He recognised her electric-blue eyes immediately, but the librarian’s fine bone structure was hidden behind layers of baby fat still not ready to peel off and her hair was a few shades lighter than it was now. Her mother was always with her in the pictures, as good-looking as elegant as her daughter had grown up to be, but her father was only in one of the pictures, a rather portly man that was rendered striking rather than dumpy by his height, which was considerable.

He found nothing to explain her retirement from chess, at least nothing official. He did find, however, a funeral notice in The Australian for a Colette Avon, neé French, dated December 2006. He felt sure that he had stumbled across the reason for Beauty’s fall from the chess circuit, and the origin of her new name. Why she had felt the need to create a completely new identity was, however, still unexplained.

And it bothered him, he found out soon enough. The more games of hers he saw the more he could appreciate her artistry, her craftsmanship. He could not conceive anyone having such talent, such passion for the game, and quitting, even over a personal tragedy like the loss of a beloved parent. He remembered how she had looked when she had played him, alive and excited, her pleasure obvious, and it cemented the idea that there was something he was missing. And he didn’t much care for it.

That’s how he found himself in the library weeks after his defeat, confronting the librarian. She was wearing a pretty burgundy shirtdress, prim and proper if not a wee bit short, and her hair tumbled down her back in a mess of curls, which was to be expected, since the library hours had ended twenty minutes ago. She wasn’t surprised to see him, nor did she appear hostile or otherwise on edge. Quite the contrary.

“Mr Gold, I’ve been expecting you.” She smiled up at him, and it felt a bit different from her previous smiles. Those had been lovely but this one felt more… personal. Intimate, somehow. Like they shared a secret. He supposed, in a way, they did. “You left your lovely chess set here. I’ve been holding onto it for you, keeping it safe. It’s in my office, do you want me to go get it for you?”

“Why did you change your name?”

He didn’t mean to blurt it out. He meant to build up to it. But there was something about her that utterly unsettled him, made him anxious in a way that wasn’t wholly unpleasant. Her smile turned somewhat cautious and sad, and he hated himself for provoking that reaction out of her.

“That’s a rather personal question.”

“You owe me.” He tried to stop himself, but he found he somehow couldn’t. “You played against me under false pretences. You owe me at least an explanation as to why.”

Miss French raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed at his emotional outburst or the questionable logic of his assessment. A moment later, however, she tilted her head to a side, biting her lip and narrowing her eyes, as if considering something.

“It’s a rather big secret. Would you play me for it?”

That sounded very much like a deal, and it made him feel more comfortable with the situation, more in control. Deals were his specialty, after all.

“And what would you wish for if you win, Miss French?”

She smiled, the picture of innocence.

“A secret for a secret sounds fair. Let’s say… your name.”

Nobody knew his first name. He appeared in all legal documents as “A. Gold”, which caused all manner of speculation around town. His name would be a high price, indeed.

“Oh, I wouldn’t tell others, just as I trust you would not tell others what I told you if I lost. I just want it for myself.”

Her words sent a frisson of something down his spine, leaving him tingling and on edge.

“That sounds acceptable. Do fetch my set, if you please, and I’ll get the board.”

They had the board set and ready in no time, flipping a coin to decide who would be whites. Miss French, having won, started the game, and from the beginning he read her moves differently from before, knowing they were those of a chess prodigy. He moved aggressively, trying to create too much chaos to allow her to build her beautiful moves, but soon began to second-guess himself, struggling between being too bold and playing it safe. He lasted longer, forcing her to pause and consider her next move once or twice, which she had not done during their first game. He took in those few seconds of uncertain contemplation with eager interest, watching as she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, the apple of her cheeks red with an enticing blush.

In the end, however, her rooks trapped his king too soon, forcing him to topple the piece. She smiled at him, offering her hand for him to shake. He did so, marveling at how delicate it was. And cold. The whole building was cold, he realised. Apparently the mayor demanded the heat be turned off the library the moment it closed, to save on the heating bill.

“We can do this again sometime, if you still wish to know, Mr Gold.”

He nodded, leaning on his cane in order to rise from the chair, making no move to gather his chess pieces.

“I’ll take you up on that, Miss French. And the name’s Arran.”

He returned a week later, with a tin of oolong tea to keep the cold of the library at bay. Though the librarian seemed to have been expecting him, with the board and chess set already laid out at the customary table, she did not seem to be in the mood to play right away, inviting him instead to her office so she could prepare and pour them both a cup of tea in the adjoining kitchenette. Though she did not seem to want to speak of whatever had happened to her in 2006 she did not seem reluctant to talk about her chess career in general. She told him about learning the game at six from her mother, and playing in the park against adults as a ten-year-old, shortly before entering her first tournament, for children. She would soon outgrow those, reluctantly.

“Children are more creative players, I find, and I missed that in professional adult tournaments. It’s what I like about your playing.”

He told her in turn about his own chess experience, so vastly different from hers. It was a part of his life he had not shared with anyone before, and it felt nice to do so, especially with someone who could understand chess like he did, could see the beauty and the sense of it.

By the time their tea was finished over an hour had passed, and it was getting almost too late for a game. This one lasted a bit longer, and felt more… playful. Though he lost, he enjoyed himself more than he should have. He could make more sense of her playing style now, and it made him respond in kind, to soften his moves a tad, make them less savage and more complimentary to hers. It was the first time in years he altered his playing style, but it gave him more of a fighting chance and it seemed to amuse and thrill her to no end. In the end when he lost she asked about his aunts, and he told her about how in love they were, even though the times were different and they could not express that love in the open like people could now. As he talked he realised how much he missed them and how nice it felt to share a bit of their memory with someone else.

Though he left the library defeated, it was difficult to conjure any negative feelings about the evening.

At some point, he realised he had stopped playing to win. Well, not necessarily. He still played with the intention of seeing her king toppled and extracting the secret of her retirement from her, but it was about more than that now. Perhaps it was their now customary tea break right before the game, which lasted up to an hour and now included cookies and several cups per person. It was a strangely-relaxing ritual and led them to talking about things that he would usually not discuss with anyone else, things that felt too personal. She shared in kind, with the exception of talking about her father, which he understood tacitly was a no-go subject. To be fair so was his, and she took pains to never ask him anything about him.

Playing her, he had to admit, had become exhilarating. Once the sour taste of defeat had been taken out of the equation- it didn’t feel like losing anymore, or at least not the way losing usually felt to him, cloying and humiliating- all that was left was the thrill of the game, the excitement of thinking on one’s feet and seeing long strategies come to fruition on the board. He caught her chewing on her bottom lip more and more as he learned to thwart her moves and bring a sort of organised chaos to the board that she found difficult to navigate around.

He got so used to losing, and so comfortable in it, in the notion that losing only meant he got to return to the library, have tea and spend a few pleasant hours with someone who was interesting and treated him with kindness, that he did not consider the fact that he might win at some point. And when it happened, one evening he saw it, checkmate in two moves with his remaining knight and one of his rooks, plain to see. He had been working at leaving her king adrift, too exposed and with her queen distracted enough to not be able to stop the attack. She saw it too, he realised, and there was a bittersweet smile when she toppled her king. The sound the small piece made was deafening in the sudden silence of the library and he stared at the board for the longest time, as if he had been struck dumb by his win. In reality he was trying to process how disappointed he suddenly felt, how utterly unhappy he was about having won. It made no sense.

“As you perhaps know my mother died in 2006.”

“Miss French, please, you don’t have to-”

“Belle, please. I’d like to believe we’ve transcended such formalities. Especially considering what I’m about to do.”

She paused, letting the silence stretch between them. Though she seemed determined to tell her tale, whatever it may entail, she did not seem to know where to start, or even where to look. He thought about getting up and downright refusing to listen to her, anything to take away the sudden air of vulnerability about her, but stopped himself. She was a grown woman who would not appreciate him trying to decide things for her.

“You must know my mother died in 2006. It was very sudden, a stroke, and was very hard to accept. We were very close, especially because my chess career kept me from socialising much with my peers. I was sad for a long time after her passing, kept recreating some of our favourite matches on the chessboard she had given me for my twelfth birthday. I didn’t want to eat, or go out much, and I guess… My dad grew worried. We had always struggled to communicate, never had much in common. He didn’t get chess or me, so he didn’t know how to reach me, or talk to me, or even understand what I was going through.”

She paused, picking up a white pawn and staring intently at it. He itched to reach out to her, though he was not very good at comforting people.

“He thought I needed professional help. And he was right, I did need to speak to someone. But he thought it best to-” Another pause, where Belle looked like she was trying to find the words to explain, or excuse, what came next. “He had me hospitalised.” He did not need to ask what kind of hospital she was referring to. “It was a nice place, on spacious, green grass and under the supervision of an order of nuns. I’ve read that other places can be more… unpleasant, and less safe. Still, I don’t remember much of it. I was drugged most of the time, they were pretty liberal when it came to medication, and I hated it. Took me a while to figure out how to behave in a way that was considered normal, how to grieve within the bounds of acceptable behaviour.”

He was surprised by the white-hot rage that took over him. He tightened his grip around the handle of his cane, eager to hurt someone with it. Belle’s father seemed like a prime candidate, or any of the doctors involved in her care, who could not see that what they had in front of them was a woman trying to grieve in her own way. He ached to do harm, to hurt, in a way that unsettled him, that spoke about primitive instincts he had spent years mastering, or at least trying to. He tried to calm himself, focusing instead intently on her, watching her walk the pawn across the board and exchange it for the white queen after it reached the other side.

“Once I was out I changed my name and applied for university in the US. My chess career and my mother’s care of my finances gave me financial freedom, so I went to school, then did my masters at Columbia, and took on as librarian here when the position opened. And I never participated in a tournament again. At first it was because being active in professional chess circles left me exposed, made it so my father would likely know where I was, but later on I discovered I just did not have the temperament for big tournaments anymore. Crowds of strange people looking at me make me nervous, and playing chess in public makes me feel… unsafe, I suppose.”

Her fingers closed over the white queen, as if testing the strength of the piece.

“I still love it, though. Used to play at Bryant Park when I was a college student, though never in tournaments. And I still play online, sometimes for money, because it’s safe. But it’s been nice, playing face to face against someone again. I’ve enjoyed it immensely.”

She put the white queen back with the rest of the pieces inside its box, closing the lid securely before offering the set to him. Instead of taking it he stood up, taking a few steps backward to make sure she knew he had no intention of taking his chess set home.

“I thank you for your candor. I will keep what you have told me in confidence, of course. Same time this Saturday?”

She looked up at him, confused for a second before a wide smile spread across her face.

“It’s a date.”

Though he had made the journey to the library dozens of times in the past couple of months it felt different that day. Instead of the customary tea he brought he clutched a tote bag with an unopened bottle of Highland Park 18 and two crystal tumblers. It was a particularly cold afternoon, which he told himself called for something more bracing than a strong cup of tea.

Belle did not seem against the whisky, though she did warn him that she had no affinity for it and would not know good scotch from bad.

“You’re calling it scotch, so that’s a good start.”

She seemed more intrigued about the tumblers, running the pad of her thumb across the designs on the glass.

“Thistles.”

“I’m nothing if not a walking stereotype.”

She laughed, telling him to pour while she set the board. By the time they sat down to play it was dark out, and Belle had turned off the zooming fluorescent tubes, leaving instead the soft, warm light fixtures in the reading room on. It was a cosy, relaxed setting, and yet the air felt strangely electrified, like something was going to happen, something big. His nerves felt raw, exposed, but the feeling wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

“So, what should we play for tonight?”

He startled, the tumbler halfway to his lips. She was right, there were no preconceived stakes anymore. Before he had wanted to know something about her, something valuable, so they established an arrangement whereby whoever won could ask a question of the other. That arrangement no longer applied. A sudden flare of panic travelled down his spine. What if he couldn’t think of anything? What if they both discovered that, without stakes, there was no sense in playing again at all? What if-

“I have an idea. It’s… a bit unorthodox. Always wanted to try it, but never got the chance to.”

The librarian looked intently at her glass of whisky, running a finger across the edge, but there was a sort of mischievous air about her. Playful.

Flirtatious, almost.

“Do tell.”

“Well, I’ve read about strip chess. Obviously I never actually played strip chess before because for most of my years playing chess in front of people I was a minor. But I always thought it sounded… fun.”

She chanced a look at him from beneath her eyelashes, biting her lower lip the tiniest bit. He must have looked rather stupid to her, sitting ranmrod straight and wide-eyed, with the look of a rabbit that has just spotted a wolf nearby. A man a few years shy of fifty looking stupidly terrified of a woman more than ten years his junior.

“What would be the rules?”

“A piece of clothing for every captured piece. Something small for pawns is allowed, but bigger pieces merit more important sacrifices. Things in pairs are to be removed in pairs. Jewellery and such are considered pieces of clothing. We play until either someone wins, or someone is completely naked.”

He took a gulp of scotch, hiding a grimace as the liquid burned a path down his throat. He took a quick stock of the librarian, taking in her few pieces of jewellery- earrings, a ring, and a simple necklace-, and her clothing. A skirt, no belt, a shirt tucked into it, a cardigan, stockings and a pair of booties. He imagined all of it on the floor at his feet and his blood simmered.

“That sounds… acceptable. You got the coin?”

He was glad he sounded unbothered by the new arrangement they had just entered into, nonchalant. He lost the coin toss, so it was Belle who opened, moving the queen’s pawn two places. He moved more conservatively, a pawn to c6, and a couple of moves later she took her first pawn, leaving the piece to be taken by another pawn of his.

“My earrings for your cufflinks?”

It was a fair exchange, so they paused to relieve themselves of their pieces of jewellery. Belle’s next move gave him a chance to capture another pawn and he discovered that he had to physically restrain himself from making the move, reminding himself that he was supposed to be playing for win. It added something extra to the game, the tension between what the best move was according to whatever strategy he was struggling to make, and what could get him more pieces. It made the game tense, as they both considered their moves and braced themselves for the possible occurrence of another piece taken.

When it finally happened, a white pawn taking the place of a black one, he surrendered both his shoes, but not before using one of his knights to take the place of the newly-moved white pawn. Belle bent down to unlace her booties, removing them and placing them to the side with care, letting him know that she did have a thing for shoes, as he had always suspected.

Nothing else happened for the longest time, the game unfolding without much action. They both moved their bishops and castled their king, pretending for a while that there wasn’t a likelihood that one of them would end up naked before the night was out. He kept the scotch nearby, refilling the drinks every now and then to give himself something to do other than think about all the exposed white pieces. Finally, when he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin if he didn’t do it, he took a white pawn with his knight.

“Wondered when you were going to do that.”

He watched her as she shimmied out of her cardigan, letting him see more of the blouse she was wearing. It was slightly sheer, letting him know she was wearing a black bra. He wondered if he would get to see it.

“It’s a pity about your knight, though.”

She moved one of her own knights to take his, making it the first major piece to be taken. She held it in her hand for a while, studying it.

“I’ll accept your jacket and tie, if you have no objections.”

He reached automatically towards his neck, tugging on the silken knot around his throat. He must have drunk more than he realised, because his fingers felt clumsy, uncoordinated. After a few ineffectual tugs and some choice expletives muttered under his breath Belle rose from her chair, gently pushing his hands away and untying the tie herself. She tugged on it until it was off and tossed it on the back of his chair. She then wordlessly prompted him to remove his jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair as well.

“That’s a lovely colour on you.”

She ghosted her fingers across the silk of his shirt. It was one of his favourites, a deep navy blue silk jacquard with a contrasting pattern of leaves. He had worn it because he had noticed she tended to favour blue, which had felt stupid at the time. Now it felt inspired. Emboldened by the touch and the compliment he dragged his bishop across the board, knocking her knight off its place.

“I’ll take your necklace and stockings, if you please.”

His voice was rough, with little of the cultured diction he usually employed, but between the alcohol and the simmering sexual tension there was little he could do to change that. She took her necklace off without much protest, making sure to fasten it close before she looked at him right in the eye, smiling innocently and extending a leg till her silk-stockinged foot found his knee.

“Help me?”

It was embarrassing how fast he dragged a hand across her leg, pausing only to notice the quality of the material, and reached beneath her skirt, till his fingers came across the scratchy lace of the top of the stocking. With slow, steady precision he peeled the stocking off her leg, letting the tips of his fingers slide across the soft underside of her thigh and calf, trying to memorise how soft and warm her skin felt, so he could replay it over and over again each night. He repeated the process with the other stocking, delighting in the goosebumps the dim light of the room revealed in Belle’s skin. After it was done he folded the stockings neatly and presented them to her.

She moved her bishop next in a direct challenge to his castled king, meaning he had no other choice but to take it. He did it with shaky hands, trying not to look as eager as he felt.

“Shirt or skirt, I suppose. May I choose?”

Her voice was soft, playful, undeniably coquettish. He nodded, following her movements as she stood up, unzipped her skirt and let it fall open around her legs. Her shirt was long enough to cover anything but the barest hint of her underwear, something black and lacy and the slightest bit sheer that had him reaching for his glass. A second later she sat down, dragging her queen to take his bishop.

“Quid pro quo?”

With all the grace he could muster he stood up, refusing to show even a hint of apprehension or shyness as he undid his belt and pushed his trousers down, carefully stepping out of them before sitting down and reaching for the scotch bottle, filling up their glasses again. He took a long, fortifying sip and moved his knight to take her remaining one.

“That lovely blouse is gonna have to go, dearie.”

Belle smiled, looking bold and strangely pleased, and made sure to look at him square in the eye as she plucked every little button free of its hole. It was an invitation to watch, and he accepted it greedily, leaning forward and holding tightly onto his cane to keep himself from doing something stupid like try and touch every new bit of soft, pale skin that was slowly revealed to him. When she reached the last button she shimmied out of the shirt and carelessly tossed it at him. He caught it one handed and tried to not notice how the fabric retained the warmth from her body and the scent of her skin.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we’re about to get even.”

She moved her queen to take his knight and leaned back on her seat, one hand cradling her tumbler of scotch and an expectant look on her face. He reached up and unfastened the buttons of his shirt with practiced nonchalance, trying to keep the shaking in his hands from being too obvious. When that was done he paused for a second, trying to gather up his courage, before shrugging out of the shirt. With a gallant little gesture he handed it to her.

The next few rounds were intense, but no pieces taken. Arran was having a hard time concentrating on the board and not on the way Belle’s fingers caressed the silk of his shirt, tracing the pattern of leaves absentmindedly. It was a safer bet than focusing on her balconette bra, a delicate, impractical little thing made almost entirely out of leavers lace, with dark flowers woven into the pattern to keep him from seeing the rose pink of her nipples. He wondered if she had worn the set with their game in mind, if she had selected it just so he could see it.

At some point he took his queen out, and she did the same with one of her rooks, both of them seemingly in agreement that the status quo was not to be borne. It wasn’t until her rook put pressure on his king, forcing him to set his queen in the middle, that he began to feel cornered. When her bishop got too close he had no other option but to take out her rook. Though from a strategic point of view that was a desperate last-ditch effort, he could not help but feel strangely ecstatic over it.

“Oh, dear.”

Belle moved her hands towards her back, seeming to struggle with the fastenings of her bra.

“I think one of the hooks is snagged on the lace. Will you help me?”

He narrowly avoided biting his tongue. He managed a croaked, barely-intelligible “aye” before she stood up and turned around. He tried not to look down, but it was almost impossible, taking into account the panties she was wearing were made almost entirely of sheer black lace- leavers as well, clearly she was wearing a matching set-. With hands that felt clumsier than usual he felt around the clasp of the bra, delicately pulling the offending hook from the lace before unclasping the bra altogether. Slowly he lowered the straps from her shoulders, noticing the red indents they left behind on her skin. Then she was turning around, bra safely in her hands and her glorious breasts bared. He hoped that she wasn’t expecting him not to look, because it felt impossible to avert his eyes. As he had imagined- and he had not realised how often until then- her nipples were the perfect shade of dusty pink, framed perfectly by pale skin a shade lighter than the rest of her.

“I know I’ve lost on the board, but right now I feel like a winner. Like the luckiest bastard on Earth.”

His accent was shot to hell, thick and incomprehensible, as if he had never left the dodgy part of Glasgow. But it did not seem to be a problem for Belle, who kissed his cheek, tugged on his hair a bit, called him a “sweet boy”, and thanked him for the compliment.

“Let’s finish this, Arran.”

Her Australian lilt turned his name, which he always thought rather charmless and rough, into a soft caress. He sat down, something considerably uncomfortable to do all of a sudden, taking into account his painful state of arousal, and struggled to focus in the game. He was done for, he knew it, but he owed it to her to try. To lose with as much dignity as possible. Or so he thought, till her queen took his in one simple move.

“I’m afraid your underwear must go.”

The silk boxers were doing a pisspoor job of hiding his raging erection in any case, but it still felt uncomfortable to peel them off and be naked in front of another human being for the first time in years. Well, nude, technically, since he still had his navy socks on.

“Let’s finish this, then.”

He took his rook out, forcing her queen to retreat and then getting his other rook to cover for his king. For the next few moves they danced around each other on the board, with Belle trying to close her trap and Arran fighting tooth and nail to remain standing. His moves weren’t elegant at all, more like the savage swipes of a cornered beast, but they were effective. He managed to snag a rook, which gave him the pleasure of sitting down and staring intently as Belle shimmied out of her useless little panties. She flashed her watch at him to remind her she was not completely naked as per the rules of the game and continued to press him. She had only her queen and a few pawns, but the board was laid out in her favour all the same. Still he gave her a run for her money, and it took her twelve more moves to checkmate his king. Feeling irrationally expectant he toppled the piece, watching it roll around the board for a few seconds before coming to a stop.

“That was exciting. Though I’m afraid we forgot to agree on what the winner got. Quite an oversight on our part.”

He watched her as she reclined on her chair and stared at the board, a rosy tinge on her skin that he realised travelled past her neck and to the tops of her breasts. She looked at ease, comfortable in her own skin, and surprisingly he noticed that he did not much care about his own nudity either. In the low, almost romantic light of the library his skin acquired a golden colour that he thought rather becoming. He was tanned for a man who spent most of his time indoors, a direct consequence of his propensity to laze about in the sun whenever possible in the privacy of his backyard or his cabin. And in such a light his wrinkles were less obvious, his scars less visible. He felt anxious, yes, tense, but it was not an unpleasant sort of tension.

“What is it you want, Miss French?”

He affected the persona of the devious dealmaker, noticing the spark of heat in the librarian’s eyes when he called her by her last name. She made a show of thinking about it, though he had the distinct feeling she had thought about something ages ago.

“How about a kiss?”

He took her left hand, kissing the back of it.

“Like this?”

When she shook her head he reached further, kidding the underside of her elbow.

“Higher, Arran.”

He tugged her closer, trying to disregard the rapid beating of his heart, and softly kissed her shoulder. Her skin was soft and smelt faintly of something citrusy, something that somehow managed to tug both at his heart and his groin.

“Higher, please.”

She took his head in her hands, tilting it upwards till their lips met. It was a soft, tentative press of the lips at first, unhurried and unassuming, but it grew firmer and more insistent. When he pressed her she opened her mouth to him readily, letting him curl his tongue around hers with a moan of approval. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders at some point, fingers sinking into his hair to pull him closer till he was flush against her, skin against skin. His hands roamed her back, tracing the ridges of her spine, pleased at the way it made her shiver.

Reluctantly he let go of her lips, pressing his mouth against her sharp jawline, down her long neck until he was tracing her collarbone with his tongue and dipping down further into the swell of her breasts. He felt her fingers dig into his scalp, pressing him closer, tugging on his hair to guide him towards a puckered nipple. He accepted the unspoken invitation gladly, closing his lips around her flesh and sucking with embarrassing enthusiasm. His hands roamed the rest of her, one caressing her back while the other pressed against a soft, round thigh, aching to move just a few inches and cup her sex.

When she stepped backwards, out of his arms and the reach of his mouth, he felt a flare of panic that she was having second thoughts, or he had done something wrong. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologise- for fucking whatever, he didn’t care- when she tugged on his arm, urging him a little ways across the room to a reading nook next to the folklore session. There was a faded divan in there, usually full of pillows and throw blankets meant for readers to take to their seats if they were uncomfortable or chilly. It was old and likely uncomfortable, the type of couch that looked like it had lost most, if not all, of its padding and most of its support capabilities a long time ago. At the moment, however, it looked to Arran like the most luxurious of beds. He let her push him onto it, glad when the springs beneath him groaned but held steady. A second later she was on top of him and all thoughts of structural stability fled from his mind as he kissed him thoroughly, asserting a dominance he was more than happy to submit to.

He had to struggle to concentrate between the kissing and the groping to understand her when she asked about protection, muttering that she was clean and on the pill but she had condoms just in case, from the sex-ed talks Miss Blanchard gave every now and then. Briefly he contemplated the notion of using one of those condoms, thinking of Miss Blanchard’s absolutely scandalised look if she ever found out, but the idea of being bare inside Belle was too good to pass. He told her he was clean in as clear a voice as he could muster that he was clean too- he recalled his last annual check-up, which he drove to Boston for, since he would rather die than let Dr Whale anywhere near any part of him- before she was straddling him, grabbing his stiff, aching cock with one hand and guiding it to her entrance. He could barely register the sudden wet heat on the tip of him before his entire member was engulfed in it. He sunk his blunt nails on Belle’s back, trying to call forth every last shred of self-control he possessed not to come then and there. Thankfully Belle didn’t move, looking overwhelmed and in need of a moment to adjust.

“You’re big.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you can’t tell me something like that if you want me to last.”

It was taking everything he had not to come like a fucking schoolboy. Later, much later, he might me in the right frame of mind to replay her involuntary compliment. Over and over. He tried to recall the names of all the subs of the Celtics, in fucking alphabetical order, till he somehow felt more in control. Slowly, lovingly, he captured her lips with his own for a long, lazy kiss, feeling as her own tension melted away, leaving only a simmering sort of excitement. Tentatively she began to rock, trying to find a comfortable angle and motion in the restrictive confined of the divan. He tried to help her as much as possible, holding onto her hips and trying to thrust up as much as he could, given his precarious perch on the furniture and his lame ankle. Slowly but steadily they found something that worked, a rhythm that had him hitting a sport deep inside her that he could tell was, blessedly, the right one, given how Belle sunk her nails on his shoulders and tried to muffle her cries against the side of his neck. He tried to talk, to tell her how gorgeous she was, how wet and warm and perfect she felt around him but it all came out as unintelligible grunts and low, feral moans.

When he felt himself near the edge he gritted his teeth and gathered all of his remaining willpower, dragging his right hand down her stomach to the small nest of curls that framed her dripping cunt, delving inside till he found a spot that made her gasp when he touched it.

“Come for me, sweet girl.” He didn’t know whether she could understand him over the thick mess of his accent, but he hoped at least the cadence would convene his meaning. She keened in response before he felt her flutter around his cock, the rest of her tensing with the force of her release. When he muffled her scream against the side of his neck he let go, his own orgasm almost uncomfortable at first, too much at once. He clutched her close, hoping against hope he would not send them both toppling to the floor, feeling like he was walking a fine line between pleasure and pain. Pleasure won out in the end, sizzling on his veins before slowly fading into a pleasant simmer. Tiredly he wrapped his arms around a barely-awake Belle, feeling the cooling sweat on her back and grunting in protest. He looked around, spotting a throw on the floor in his reach. He grabbed it quickly, managing to wrap it snug around both of them. Later, much later, when he could remember his name or how to walk, he would insist on them finding some better place to sleep, for her sake. At the moment, however, that seemed beyond him, a faraway concern to be dealt with at a later time. He was loath to give up his queen too soon into the game, in any case.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #The Game #thestraggletag fanfiction

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whiskynottea · 5 years ago

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An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics Ficlet -- The Future is Near

A/N: A week ago I got a message by @wickedgoodbooks asking for a wee ficlet about her favourite goofballs. Coincidentally, it was only the previous day that I was thinking of these two too!

So here is a not-so-wee fluffy ficlet. I loved going back to this AU and I hope you will enjoy reading this!

AO3

(You can find the main story here and on AO3)

~~~~~~

I liked Saturday mornings in the library the best. It was quiet, beautiful, and it made me feel like the concept of time disappeared and clocks lost their power in this place. With so few people around, I always imagined that the books were snuggling into their warm leather covers, peacefully asleep.

I opened the Word document on my laptop and blinked at the cursor that was blinking back at me. Having started a few days ago, I was four pages in and had hardly covered one-third of the subject.

Way to go, Claire.

I checked my notes again, looking for the paper mentioning the case of a forty-two-year-old man with infective endocarditis and proceeded with writing down the modified Duke criteria used to establish a diagnosis of the infection.

Major criteria

Positive blood culture with typical IE microorganism, defined as one of the following:

Typical microorganism consistent with IE from two separate blood cultures (Viridans-group streptococci, or Streptococcus bovis including nutritional variant strains, or HACEK group, or Staphylococcus aureus, or Community-acquired enterococci, in the absence of a primary focus)

Microorganisms consistent with IE from persistently positive blood cultures (two positive cultures of blood samples drawn >12 hours apart, or three or a majority of ≥four separate blood cultures with first and last sample drawn at least one hour apart, Coxiella burnetii detected by at least one positive blood culture, or IgG antibody titer for Q fever phase 1 antigen >1:800)

My phone buzzed against the heavy wooden table.

Scot: Where are you, Sassenach?

I blinked at the message, double-checking the time. It was nine o’clock in the morning. Which meant that it was four at night in Michigan and as far as I knew, Jamie had gone to bed early last night.

Sassenach: Why aren’t you sleeping?

Scot: Why aren’t you in your dorm?

What? I stupidly looked around as though Jamie would pop from between the imposing shelves. How the hell did he know?

Seeing as no red-headed towering Scot was to be spotted, I stared back at my phone in confusion.

Scot: Go back to your room.

Sassenach: And why would I do that?

Scot: Because Mary stopped talking to me and just stares at her hands.

My heart leapt into my throat and I banged my knee on the table leg while jumping from my seat.

Scot: I think she’ll die of embarrassment because we’re less than two feet apart and when she opened the door she almost attacked me with the table lamp.

I swallowed my chuckle out of respect for the books that surrounded me.

Sassenach: YOU’RE HERE?

Scot: Where are you?

Sassenach: Library.

Scot: COMING

Sassenach: The Bodleian Library.

I took a few deep breaths while smiling like a loon and sat down again, trying to focus on the essay.

What was I doing? Right. The major criteria.

Evidence of endocardial involvement with positive echocardiogram defined as…

I was still smiling. And thinking of Jamie instead of infective endocarditis.

I shook my head and tried to focus on the words I was typing.

Oscillating intracardiac mass on valve or supporting structures…

I was sure that oscillating intracardiac mass was bound to mean something, something different than the constant chanting in my mind that went like: Jamie is here, Jamie is here, he is here, here, here. Jamie is hereee.

Continuing was a lost cause. I packed my notes and my laptop and left the empty library with a wide grin, belatedly realising that Jamie was coming to me and I shouldn’t leave the place.

Well, I knew the way back home. I would meet him halfway.

I forced my feet not to break into a run. Or a dance. It was two months since I’d last touched him, since I was engulfed by his arms, since I bit that bottom lip of his just to hear the groan that always followed.

Maybe not a run, but a trot was surely acceptable. I took my phone from my pocket and called him.

“Making calls from the library?” he asked as soon as he picked up.

“I’m not in the library anymore.”

“Sassenach,” he grunted. “I’m heading to the library.”

“Well, it’s eighteen minutes away and I thought we could split the distance.”

“Yeah, eighteen minutes because you couldn’t just go to the LMH library which is next to your place.”

“It doesn’t feel the same,” I explained and heard him sighing.

“Aye, I ken. Ye’ve said so about one million times.”

I laughed. My love for the Bodleian library was certainly no secret. “I missed you, Jamie.”

“Not for much longer,” he said and I could hear the impatience in his voice.

“You’re crazy, by the way. What are you doing here?”

“Coach gave me a week.”

“And?”

“And I couldn’t spend it in Michigan, away from ye. Do I take Parks Road or Banbury Road?”

“You’re already there?”

“Aye.”

“Are you running?”

“Well, not now that we’re talking.”

Crazy, stupid Scot.

“I love you. Take Parks. I’ll meet you halfway.” I ended the call and started walking even faster.

Two months wasn’t that long, considering that we lived in different continents, but my heart was thumping loud and cheerful in my chest at the thought that I would soon kiss him again.

After our epic breakup when Jamie convinced himself that being apart would hurt less than going through years of a long-distance relationship, he’d realised – the ugly way – that nothing could be worse than losing each other and coming back asking for one more chance.

I gave it to him and never regretted it. Day after day, call after call, text after text, Jamie took the pain of those twenty-six days of our separation away and made me believe in him again. He gained my trust with every little gesture, with every big surprise.

He was there, always. In the good days, in the bad days. In the days I found my purpose, in the days I lost my courage. In the days I was so exhausted I thought reading one more page would make my brain explode. In the days I felt I had chosen the only profession that could make me fulfil my dreams. Jamie was there to listen, to commiserate, to encourage, to love.

And I hoped I was there for him, too. Life wasn’t perfect but our love was enough.

We’d found a routine when we stopped being freshmen intimidated by expectations and we made sure to manage our schedules so that we had time for each other. Not that everything always worked out and we never fought or screamed at each other through our phones when reality and distance crushed us. But there was no fight we couldn’t overcome, no obstacle in our path big enough to break us.

And when I saw him on Parks Road running towards me, I knew that we had chosen each other, each day, each moment.

“Sassenach,” he breathed close to my ear and took me in his arms, spinning me around as though I weighed nothing. “Oh, babe, I missed ye so much.”

His lips were soft on mine, his tongue tempting as it traced my mouth to make me open to him. One hand found its way down to my arse, and he squeezed in a possessive strike.

“That plump arse will be the death of me,” he murmured against my lips.

“Not plump,” I corrected even though I knew he kept saying that to tease me.

“Plump, and perfect, and mine.”

“Mine,” I corrected.

“Ye’re mine, Sassenach,” he growled and a bicycle bell rang from the road next to us, to celebrate or reprimand the inappropriateness of our actions, I wasn’t sure.

“Jamie…” I tried, and failed, to stop him.

“Ah Dhia,” he groaned. “Mary in the room, people here. I need to get ye somewhere and have ye all to myself.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I booked an airbnb.”

Before I could reply his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me like a thirsty man who just found an oasis full of springs in the desert. With a hand still on my arse and the other lost in my curls, he pulled me closer until I melted into him, his chest hard, and solid, and warm, and there. Close. Tangible.

“Let’s go,” he said and withdrew with eyes closed and a pained expression on his face. “God, it hurts not to touch ye.”

“Is it too early for check-in?” I asked and he nodded his assent. “Then you have to be patient,” I murmured. “Coffee?”

He held my hand in his as though it was a lifeline and we started walking down the street towards my favourite cafe.

“Why didn’t you say you were coming?” I asked with a frown.

“I wanted to wake you up and surprise you, Sassenach, but you made it impossible.”

“Sorry,” I replied, not looking remorseful at all.

“It doesna matter.” He grinned and pulled me closer, planting a kiss on my head. “Ye ken, Sassenach,” he started in a hesitating voice.

“Yes?”

“‘Tis Saturday.”

“Mhmm. I’ve heard.”

“And tomorrow it’s Sunday.”

“Aren’t you just brilliant?” I replied with a mocking grin and he made a silly face.

“And the room I booked?”

“The one you’re supposed to check-in later?”

“Aye, that one.”

“What about that?”

“I booked it for Monday.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “What?” I asked stupefied. “Why?”

“I was thinking… Well, I thought…”

“Jamie…”

“Aye, aye. ‘Tis the weekend and ye dinna have classes, so I thought I could kidnap ye and take ye for a trip to Edinburgh. What do ye say, Sassenach? Jenny keeps nagging that it’s been ages since she last saw both of us.”

“Edinburgh?”

“Aye. I ken ye have the essay ye’re working on, but I thought it’d be nice to go back.”

Edinburgh. It wasn’t a bad idea. In fact, it was a really, really good idea.

“Okay,” I said with a smile.

“Aye?”

“Aye, you insufferable Scot. Let’s go to Edinburgh. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Jenny kicking your arse.”

He looked at me with wide eyes, feigning surprise. “And here I thought ye like my arse!”

We went back to my dorm where I quickly packed my toothbrush and a change of clothes and ran to the train station. It was a six-hours trip that I was never excited to make, but having Jamie sitting next to me changed everything. The destination didn’t matter anymore – it was the journey and the time we would spend together that was important.

The train rolled on the rails and Jamie wrapped his arm around me, pulling me impossibly close. I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes, the scent of his cologne permeated my senses. We fell in a comfortable silence thick with love and contentment, two ships finding haven in a deserted island.

When I opened my eyes I was greeted by the British landscape and a small tilt of my head revealed that Jamie had fallen asleep. Locks of auburn hair had fallen on his forehead and a soft smile was curving up his lips.

It was happiness that filled my lungs with my next breath. So simple, so pure.

It seemed that I fell asleep as well and we both woke up because of the commotion when we reached Sheffield. With the confusion granted by awakenings, we looked out the window for a moment until Jamie yawned and hugged me tighter.

“I’d forgotten how long this trip is,” he said in a gruff, sleepy voice.

“At least we were sleeping during the first half of it.”

“Aye. I was exhausted. Didna manage to sleep enough on the plane.”

“Mmm, you never do.”

“In contrast to other people, I’m not mentioning any names mind you, who sleep in airports and almost miss their flights!”

“I happened only once, okay?”

“Are ye sure? Because I remember you running to your gate –”

“Hey!” I interrupted, elbowing his stomach. Not that he would feel anything with the six-pack he’d made for himself through training. “The other two times –”

“Three.”

I huffed in indignation. “Three times,” I consented, narrowing my eyes at him, “These times I wasn’t sleeping. I was just distracted!”

“Still. It counts.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Ye were reading yer books and got so engrossed in them that you almost lost yer connecting flight. It counts.”

“Fuck you,” I whispered in his ear because there was a mother with a sweet little boy at the seats in front of ours, but I was smiling and he must have heard it.

“Only with you. And I canna wait.” He placed an opened mouth kiss on my neck and I bit back a moan.

“I hate you, Jamie Fraser,” I keened, unable to imbue my voice with the strength the sentiment owed to have.

Jamie, his eyes on my heaving chest, murmured back, “I’m looking forward to ye hating me a bit more.”

“I’ll punish you for that,” I vowed and ran my hand up his tight, stopping exactly where he didn’t want me to.

His groan made a shiver ran down my spine.

To distract ourselves from images of savouring each other, we bought salt and vinegar crisps, jaffa cakes and hobnobs. Jamie devoured half of them before I had even finished my handful of crisps.

“I thought you professionals had to watch your diet,” I mumbled, still chewing.

Jamie looked semi-embarrassed for a moment, then shrugged. “Cheat day.”

“Okay, if that’s the label you put on your sins…”

“These are totally healthy Sassenach,” he said with a crooked smile. “Vegetables.” He raised the package of crisps and shook it between us. “These have oats and oats are verra nutritious,” he said with a nudge at the hobnobs and these…” he hesitated for a moment.

“Have orange jam so it’s like eating fruits?” I suggested.

“See?” He grinned. “You get me.”

I laughed and took one of the jaffa cakes before they all disappeared into the giant’s mouth.

I hoped we didn’t smell like oranges when we arrived in Edinburgh.

“I hope we won’t smell like oranges when we arrive in Edinburgh,” Jamie echoed my thought and I turned to look at him, wide-eyed and incredulous.

“Why?” I asked before he had enough time to think what he just said.

“Because Jenny –” he stopped abruptly. “Shite.”

“Oh my god.”

“Ye ken?”

“You know too?”

We gaped at each other, unsure how to proceed.

“Jenny hates oranges as of late,” I stated.

“Aye.”

“Do you know why?”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” I confessed feeling a smile curving up the corners of my mouth.

“I will kill her!” Jamie exclaimed and started typing furiously on his phone before he asked me to pose for an angry selfie.

“She says she wanted to check how long we would keep it from each other!” he exclaimed in frustration a moment later. “That evil…”

I barked a laugh, shaking my head. “This sister of yours is unbelievable.”

“Aye, she reminds me of yer best friend,” he retorted.

“So this was why you wanted to go to Edinburgh?” I asked and saw his eyes soften and his lips mirror mine in a grin.

“I will be an uncle, Sassenach!”

“I know! It was the best news! Although, now that I think about it, it was bound to happen, sooner or later.”

“She said it wasna exactly planned, but they were so happy when we talked. Ian has even started building a crib because he wants something special for the baby.”

“Ian is the sweetest,” I said and the screen of Jamie’s phone lit up with a new message from Jenny. It was a picture of her and Ian laughing and below it wrote, ‘We love you! All three of us!”

“Do they know we’re on the way?”

Jamie smiled mischievously and shook his head.

“Suits them right.”

We finished eating while speculating about the baby’s sex, Jenny and Ian’s wedding and the possibility of Ian failing in his endeavour to build a crib on his own.

In eight months, Jenny would be a mum. It felt surreal and yet so right.

The future wasn’t that far away, it seemed.

“I was talking to Maisri the other day. About you.”

“Aye?” His voice was low but I felt the question vibrating through his body.

“About your dream of getting your own swimming pool and teaching children with intellectual disabilities. When you told me that John wanted to be your partner and invest in your plan once you both come back to the UK, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maisri wants to be a psychiatrist, you know. She said it’s a brilliant idea. She’d read a review published a few years ago that claimed that hydrotherapy shows potential as a treatment method for social interactions and behaviours in children with autism spectrum disorders. And we were thinking that muscle building will also help with balance and mobility.”

“‘Tis still a dream, ye ken that, aye?”

“I know. I’m just reminding you that it’s a great dream.”

Jamie chuckled and gently tucked an errant curl behind my ear. “Thank ye, mo ghraidh.” A soft kiss on my temple. “But first, I have one more year in the US and I want to make it to the Senior Gold Squad of the Scottish Swimming National Squad Selections.”

“Mmm,” I agreed with a kiss on his chest. “I’m sure you will. You’re one of the top competitive swimmers in your uni and you’ve already won medals. They’ll be fools not to have you.”

“And then I will be an hour away, Sassenach. An hour away,” he repeated. “Can you imagine?”

“An hour by plane. Six hours by car.”

“Even so. I will be able to come to see you at weekends. Every. Single. Weekend.”

It was that moment when it hit me.

“I have to find a place,” I said, frowning.

Jamie mirrored my expression. “Ye dinna want to?”

I was silent, thinking about it, considering my options and the budget I could afford, but apparently Jamie perceived my silence as a denial. “I guess I can book a room when I’m in Oxford if you want to stay with Mary.” There was a bitterness in his voice that he didn’t manage to conceal.

“No, I don’t. It’s not that. “ He didn’t seem convinced. He turned slightly and gazed out the window. “Jamie…”

“‘Tis fine,” he said in a low voice.

“No, it’s not. Look at me.” When he didn’t, I cupped his face with both hands until his eyes were on mine. “Will you stop jumping into conclusions? I didn’t reply immediately because I hadn’t considered finding a place of my own before. I’ll talk to uncle Lamb.”

“Ye don’t have to if ye dinna want it, Sassenach.”

I could almost taste his disappointment and I wanted to kiss him until he knew that I didn’t have any second thoughts about that.

“Who said I don’t want it?” When he didn’t reply I pulled his head down so that his lips were on mine. “A place of my own?” I whispered on his mouth. “To be with my stubborn Scot every weekend?” I licked his lips and they opened for me. “Hell yes,” I said and kissed him until we were gasping for breath.

When we broke apart, we were both smiling. The future wasn’t that far away anymore.

#thermodynamics #the first law of thermodynamics #jamie x claire #high school AU #college AU #ficlet #thermo ficlet #the future is near #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction

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bang-to-the-tan · 5 years ago

Text

Stray Cat Strut

Chapter 7

Reader x OT7

► Faerie!AU

Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: Mention of Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Faerie Mischievous Bullshit

↳ Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

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The library is cool when you step inside, the breeze and the birds muted, lending to this veil of stillness that drapes over everything like a gossamer sheet. Enough to quiet without suffocating. Enough to mute without obscuring. It’s so peaceful in here, like it’s been untouched by the years and will remain for years to come. You take in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of polished wood, dust, and old tomes, your hand drifting to worry at the faded thread wrapped around your wrist. The bell on the bracelet clinks faintly, clear and bright, when you jostle it. Were you too harsh on that boy outside? As if he could be standing just past the doors, you turn, casting a glance at the entrance, recalling the way he held you. It was...kind of nice, you have to admit. The familiarity, the strength—protective. Protective…

‘You don’t remember me?...but I’m your—’

Your thumb slips in your worrying, and you brush the pearl wrapped in the center again. Something deep inside your chest aches suddenly, like a second heartbeat beating just beside you. Strong and insistent. Real. You’re missing something. Someone.

You shake your head, trying to clear your mind of these feelings and half-remembered things like cobwebs. You turn to ring the bell, but Namjoon is already standing there, leaning casually against the desk as he surveys you with a vaguely worried look. You don’t know how you missed him, walking in, but that seems to be a running theme with these people.

“...Are you okay?” he asks finally, breaking the silence.

“I’m okay.” After a beat, you manage to reply, trying to gather your heartbeat from his sudden appearance. When you move to step forward into the light streaming from the topmost window, he doesn’t move away from you, only craning his head to better meet your eye.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just...yeah. Weird people in this town.”

He snorts. “What do you mean?”

“A-a guy outside. Reached for me.”

His face immediately drops. “What? Who?”

“No, no, I—looking back on it I’m not even sure he meant anything by it. I just...Forget it.”

He shifts, straightening, his lips curving into a frown as he furrows his brows out at the doors behind you. “What did he look like?”

You have to stifle a laugh at how suddenly he’s ready to step to the plate in your name. Though the two of you have only spoken a couple times, and almost always ending with you frustrated at his mysterious act...there’s something friendly about being in his presence. Comfortable, like you’ve known each other for a very long time. There’s a lot in this town that feels that way.

“It’s fine, Namjoon. I promise I’m fine.”

He stills, looking at you peculiarly, brows raising. “...I didn’t tell you my name.” he says, quiet.

“No, no. Um. Jin mentioned you. We’ve been helping each other out.”

“Oh.”

A cloying silence threatens to settle between you and you have to break it before it becomes awkward.

“Yeah. A-anyways, I have something to trade,” you turn the conversation back on-course. “Something of value, for the book. Just like you said.”

Namjoon perks up noticeably at that, eyes bright when they flit to meet yours past lavender hair. He straightens, crossing his arms across his chest and shuffling his weight to the other foot, like he’s trying to be nonchalant despite obvious intrigue.

“Okay,” he says, nodding once with a soft smile. “Okay, let’s see it.”

The bracelet jingles when you hold it up, demonstrative, feeling at least a little bit proud of yourself for solving his silly riddle. His gaze is blank when he looks to your arm so you point helpfully at your wrist.

“I found this while Jin and I were cleaning my grandmother’s shed. It was mine when I was young. It meant a lot to me. It still does.” ...What did you just say? It was too easy, how that slipped from your lips, but now that you’ve said it, you find that it’s true. There’s an attachment that you can’t quite explain, even to yourself. You hesitate, struggling to put the feeling into words. “It...it’s important.”

He doesn’t speak. Your companion has frozen so completely that you have to crane a little ways to the side, watching his eyes follow you, before you can determine that he hasn’t just...stopped working.

“Hello? Namj—”

“What is it?” he asks, quiet. Almost fearful. “Describe it to me.”

You frown. “What do you mean, describe it? It’s...look at it.” You shake your arm in his direction, appalled when he jerks backwards like you’re waving a weapon in his face, his expression wary.

“Humor me,” he breathes, looking back to you. “Just humor me for a minute.”

“...It’s a little bracelet,” you begin, slow, eyeing him carefully. What has him so worked up?... “Tied with thick thread. There’s a bell and a pearl in the center of it.”

“What color is the thread?”

You blink at him. “...red…?”

A sigh, deep, heavy, leaves his lips and he slumps against the counter like a marionette with its strings cut, his hands coming up to thread through his own hair, hiding the upper part of his face, and you realize his fingers are shaking. You pause, scooting forward just a little to peer at him better. His mouth is pulled into a taut line, his brow furrowed.

“Namjoon?”

“I..I can’t believe...” He sounds shaken. Worried; and you can’t for the life of you understand why. “…who...” His head shoots up before you have the chance to speak again. “When you were here last. You mentioned a dog was following you. What kind of dog?”

You try to think of dog breeds, but it’s difficult with the whiplash you’re getting from this strange conversation. “...fluffy? Small?”

“Okay. Okay.” Namjoon takes several deep, calming breaths, sliding off the counter to begin pacing in front of it with long strides, his chin in his hand. “Okay.”

You allow him a few beats of quiet, waiting patiently for an explanation or perhaps another barrage of questions, but he’s so caught up in whatever thought process is currently possessing him that instead the library returns to its diligent silence.

You clear your throat, tracking his anxious path back and forth. “...So?”

“So?” he echoes, absent.

“So is that good enough? For the book?”

“The book,” he repeats again, halting. He looks upset. Deeply upset. When he turns again, he steps to face you in two long strides, watching you carefully to see if you’ll pull away. You don’t. “I...you can’t...”

“You said,” you begin pointedly. “You said you would trade it for something that has value. This has value.Are you going back on your word?”

Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes and he shakes his head, sharp. “No. I am not.” He pauses again, takes a deep breath through his nose as he studies some indeterminate point to your left. His gaze flits back to you. “What I said was that I would trade it for something with equal importance to you as this book has to me.”

“Yes.”

“That...bracelet...does not have equal importance to you.”

“You—” you bristle.

“Not to you,” Namjoon interrupts. He reaches out an unsteady hand, palm-up, taking another half-step closer, the closest you’ve ever been to him. From here, you can see the threads in his sweater, making up the bright, colorful patterns. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he moves and briefly, you reel at the strangely familiar scent. Bright, clean. Like a breeze from a mountain, untainted and free. At first you don’t move, but your senses return to you after a beat and, eventually, you press your hand into his. His palm is wide enough, long enough, to dwarf your own, warm and shockingly soft against your skin. When he flips your hand so that your wrist faces up, it’s with a delicate, feather-light touch. You’re spellbound, watching his thumb caress down your palm briefly, halting just where the bracelet begins. He sighs again, eye trained on your wrist, his expression turning almost determined. He blinks, looking back to you with the faintest of smiles, his other hand coming up as he folds your fingers over your own palm, like he’s entrusting something heavy to you, pressing your hand in gently.

“I believe you. When you say you don’t remember. So I don’t think this is your fault,” he says, low, “But...promise me you won’t use it.”

“Use...use what?”

“The book.”

You frown at him doubtfully. “All this work for a book I can’t read…?”

“You can read it,” he clarifies hastily. “You can read it, and learn from it. I would encourage you to learn from it. But there are...there are things in there… things written, knowledge that could be used…”

“Used?” What the hell is he talking about??

“I can’t make you swear to anything,” he adds, his shoulders dropping. “But please. Just promise me you won’t use it.”

You don’t get it. You don’t understand the significance. But he’s being so earnest, so incredibly heartfelt that you find yourself nodding along. “...Okay...I won’t use the book.”

He copies you, once, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he straightens, releasing your hand. As you draw it back into yourself, you find yourself missing his warmth, the softness of his hand.

“The...the bracelet,” he stumbles faintly over the word. “The importance isn’t yours. I believe you, that you cherish it, but it isn’t yours. Not entirely. Not all of it.”

Your mouth opens to interrupt, confused questions threatening to spill from your tongue, but he continues quickly. “I’ll accept it as collateral when you return what doesn’t belong to you.”

“What part of it doesn’t belong to me?” you balk.

“When you know the answer to that, then I know you can be trusted.” he explains, without explaining, eyes flickering. “It’s perfect. If Taehyung trusts you, so can I.”

“T-Taehyung. The dog.”

“Give what’s his back to him,” Namjoon nods, like he’s proud of himself. “Then I can trust you not to use the book.”

“I’m going to give Taehyung—the dog—my childhood bracelet.” You clarify, slow, staring at him like he’s gone insane. “And then the shady librarian will give me a book that I promised I wouldn’t use. Namjoon, this all sounds crazy.”

He grins, leaning forward to grasp your shoulders, gentle and encouraging. When he beams like this, dimples carve themselves out of the sides of his cheeks, his eyes sparkling with latent mischief.

“I believe in you.”

You stare at him, but he only smiles wider, hands squeezing you gently.

You blink.

He’s gone.

You whirl around, jumping out of your skin, but the library is empty. You’re alone, standing in the light filtering through the topmost window, watching the shapes of dust trail through the golden air like small creatures of yore.

“Namjoon?” you call, but there’s no answer. You blink again, staring at your hands. Your bracelet is still there, the bell still ringing plaintively when you wriggle your wrist. Did you imagine him?...

No. No, you couldn’t have.

You wait for some kind of sign, in the stillness. A sign that he was real, or one that this is a dream. That you’re going crazy? But nothing else happens. Eventually, you decide to exit the library.

So...okay. First thing’s first, then. You have to find Taehyung. Maybe wrap the bracelet around his paw? He’s small enough and the clasp is adjustable enough, you could probably slip it around his neck like a collar. It shouldn’t be hard to find him anyway—it’s been impossible to get rid of him since you met. And yet, when you step outside, into the fresh air and warm sunlight, you’re vaguely surprised to find that there’s no fluff ball sitting patiently at the steps. You cast a look to one of the lion statues protecting the entrance.

“Last I saw him, he was chasing that rabbit. Jungkook,” you correct yourself quickly. “So maybe he’s at home? What do you think?”

The lion offers no comment. You caress one of its paws anyway, feeling the sensation of heated stone under your palm. You think of the dark-haired boy and the lighter-haired boy you saw earlier, but even as you keep an eye out, you don’t see either of them on the way home.

To your further shock, there’s no shape pacing in front of your garden gate, either. No tiny madman announcing your approach with a howl. Your heart sinks a little. He’s alright, right? He hasn’t been hurt? You can’t imagine anyone in this town wishing any harm, not to something so small. You pause at your gate, frowning, and go to turn away, but a flash of brown on the inside of the garden, dashing to the side of the house, catches your attention and immediately your heart leaps into your throat.

“Taetae!” you shout, grinning as you throw the gate aside and jump inside, running to catch up. The flowers in your path crunch under your feet, the dried soil hard and unforgiving against the soles of your feet. “Hey, buddy, wait up! Namjoon says I ha—”

You round the corner, pulling up short when you realize you’ve lost sight of him. Seeing things again…? No. No, that can’t—

Movement, again, a twitch of brown, and suddenly there’s something clambering up the side of the iron fence with nimble little fingers. It isn’t Taehyung. It’s a squirrel. Small, oddly sleek and soft-looking for a wild animal, its eyes are wide yet strangely intelligent as it regards you.

“Squirrel.” you say. It doesn’t reply. Looking at it, you’re suddenly made aware of the state of your garden around you. It’s appalling. Seemingly since this morning, the flowers have begun shriveling in earnest, a dried brown claiming them from the stems and reaching down into the roots. Even the ground beneath you is becoming dusty, harsh and unforgiving to life. Your steps haven’t even made prints in the soil. The squirrel watches you with a steady gaze.

“Squirrel.” you say again, realization striking you dumb. The kepry under the stairs. The candy.

“I-I’m so sorry!” you finally sputter, ducking your head in a bow before you even realize you’re doing it. “I completely forgot! But I bought candy for you, I swear! To replace the ones I took out. I’ll be right back.”

The creature gives no indication that it understands, or cares, but instead of bolting when you move to go back through the house, it only watches you steadily. No real squirrel would sit so still, so patiently, you’re sure.

You retrieve a handful of candy from the bag in the cupboard, making sure there’s enough to pass to the gardener, whenever he turns up, and head back outside. The squirrel hasn’t moved, and doesn’t move, even when you have to walk past it to the stairs around the back. You kneel on the ground, making quick work of the shoddy cover you’d put over the hole. It takes a few minutes to pull out all of the cotton and slip the candy inside piece by piece, tucking the discarded tape and cotton into your pocket to throw away later.

Satisfied, you go to get up, jolting when you realize that the squirrel has scampered down from its perch on the fence closer to you, all the way down to the grass, alighting into your lap with all the deftness of a family pet. It’s light, but solid, heavier than you might think. You freeze, holding your breath as it pads across your thighs, inspecting the hole with a twitch of its whiskers, a crane of its tiny head. Its bushy tail waves in front of your face and you have to tamper the desire to pet it. Delicate little paws shaped like hands reach into the hole, grasping one of the candies and pulling it into its body with a curious look. Round and round it shuffles the sweet, eyeing it this way and that, before sliding it back into place with a peculiar chirp sound. It turns to you, straightening, whiskers twitching, and you’re spellbound in its wide, dark eyes. Slowly, deliberate, it leans forward in a bow. Automatically, your body is moving to replicate it as much as you can without dislodging it from its perch. It chirps again, almost a cheerful bark, suddenly dashing up your arm, round your shoulder, to the other side, clutching at your shirt fabric easily with tiny claws, and as it goes, brushing your nose with its tail, you can smell lavender, like its been rolling in it. Briefly, it nuzzles into your cheek and you can’t help but laugh a little. You’re aware of the sound of birds in the distance, the wind rustling through the trees, the sun warming your skin, and the scent of fresh lavender.

“I’m glad you like them,” you say after a moment. When you go to stand, careful, the squirrels precise little claws dig a little deeper into your shirt, small body wavering to keep balance, though it doesn’t move to jump off of you. “I’m sorry for taking them out to begin with. I hope this makes us even.”

It chirps again, louder for being so close, and you burst into a fit of laughter when it snuffles against your ear, ticklish instinct moving your shoulder, but it leaps off you quickly, before you can squash its small body against your temple. It lands precisely near a patch of tulips. You rub at your ear absently, watching as it flicks its tail at you and suddenly scurries off, dashing again around the front of the house. You take a step to give chase, but hesitate when you’re distracted by a flash of color against the ground. Leaning forward, you brush a hand against the fading tulips to move them out of the way. A patch of grass, standing out against its dying kin for its bright, emerald color. You don’t remember seeing that before.

Unbidden, Namjoon’s words rise in your head, all the way back from when you first spoke to him.

‘I bet there was something in the house really well taken-care of when you got here.’

Granny’s garden. Of course. Granny was so old, she couldn’t have possibly gotten on her knees to tend this garden as often as would have given her the beautiful paradise you always remembered. Her hands shook so violently, how could she have pulled the weeds and watered the plants like they needed? And even after her death, it was beautiful.

Until you took the candy. Then, the plants started dying. It all makes sense...

But wait. Then what about the man claiming to be her gardener?

“You seem like a nice person.” You don’t have time to be confused, as a new voice pulls you from your musings and you look up to find a young man standing at your fence. His hair is a soft almond color, his eyes wide like a doe’s, as he stares at you with the slightest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“...Thank you,” you reply finally, realizing a beat too late that you’re still smiling, trying to smooth it into something less creepy. He doesn’t seem to notice, his own smile growing, prominently showing his front teeth.

“I didn’t get the chance to say that before,” he adds, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark jacket and swaying a little.

“Before?” You repeat, straightening. “Have we met?”

“Sort of. You’re usually…” his head cocks briefly, pausing in his rocking to cast a thoughtful glance upwards. “...protected pretty closely.”

“You mean Taehyung?”

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” you’re immediately defending the small animal, brushing the dirt off your knees. “He’s just…”

“Persistent.”

You laugh a little at that. He sounds almost personally attacked by the tiny dog. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

“No,” he replies quickly, nose scrunching though he’s still grinning. “I’m not afraid of him, either.”

“Well. You’re in luck, I guess.” You sober a little with a faint sigh. “I can’t seem to find him.”

He hums, but quickly starts another conversation, seemingly uninterested with offering to help. “How did you get Yoongi’s totem?”

“Yoongi?” You blink, but your hand automatically flies to the small bag around your neck, wrapping your fingers around it and inhaling the slight scent of cinnamon. “Is that...the cat’s name?”

“He doesn’t just give those out, you know,” the young man says instead of answering. He moves to lean against your fence, and you catch a glimpse of his bright red sneakers when he bounces forward. He cradles his cheek in one long palm, watching you closely. “I’m curious.”

“I took him into the house when it was raining the other day. Fed him, gave him a bed.”

The youth grins wider. “I knew you were a nice person.”

“I...I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Or me.”

“Sorry?”

“I like you. I’ve decided.” He declares with a soft giggle, his nose scrunching again. “I want to pay you back.” You can’t help but smile with him, though you’re not sure what he means by that.

“Oh. Okay? Thank you?”

“Taehyung likes Eunju and Sungmin a lot. Maybe you can find him by their store?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open, your back straightening a little. “That’s a good idea! Thanks!”

“Anytime,” he leans up off the railing and turns to start walking down the path. You start forward, suddenly worried that without your eye on him, he’ll disappear into nothing.

“U-um!”

He pauses, half-turning to raise his brows at you expectantly as you walk to the gate, unsure hands curling over the bars.

“Do...do you want to come with?” you ask, hesitant. You’re not sure why, but you don’t...want him to leave. Just yet.

His grin grows wider. “I’d love to! Actually,” he cranes towards you, his expression conspiratorial. “Let’s make it a game.”

“A game?” you echo, stepping out of the gate and latching it behind yourself.

“I’ll race you there.”

You aren’t blind. You can see the toned muscles in his legs, bared by his shorts, especially now with the hedges and fence out of the way. You snort. “I don’t think—”

“Readysetgo!” he cackles, eyes wide, suddenly diving headfirst into a sprint.

A scandalized noise leaves your throat as he cuts you off, but your body is already in motion, launching you forward, heart pumping, indignant laughter surging from your chest. The two of you race down the hill, and for a moment, you’re afraid of losing your footing on the incline, tripping, head over heels, but he’s pulled so far ahead of you that it sparks a playful frenzy in your heart, spurring you onwards, faster, faster. Your feet grow wings, sure and light as you throw yourself mindlessly into the chase, over the terrain, past the trees, into town, following the trail blazed in your sights by the young man’s jacket flaring out behind him, the glaring color of his shoes, something pulled from the depths of your soul that makes your cheeks hurt with how hard you’re grinning, wind whipping at your hair, legs pumping as you give it your all. The two of you bank so hard around the corner that you almost fall over, an exhilarated whoop leaving your chest as you struggle to regain your footing, watching him disappear around the bend, but you’re so close to catching him now, like you could just reach out—

You round the corner, bursting free of the intersection to come face to face with the convenience store. Your feet skid to a halt, suddenly heaving deep, heady breaths as you bend at the middle, panting, gasping. Your legs burn, your sight swims, but you’re laughing past your inhales and exhales, feeling energy in every limb, every inch of your being. Even as sore as you are already, you feel alive. Indisputably alive, fully alive. There is light and fire burning inside of you and if you wanted to, you feel like you could run the whole way back up the hill. You take in another gulp of oxygen, casting a glance around you, feeling the urge to roll your eyes when you realize the young man is gone. Disappeared entirely. Besides annoyance, at the apparently inherent ability of everybody in this town to just vanish on will, you feel…

You feel disappointed, you realize after a beat.

Disappointed that he didn’t stay.

The day is starting to grow long, the sunshine turning golden, the shadows turning violet. You can feel the slight drop in temperature as it cools, preparing to tuck the sun beneath the horizon. Today has really gotten out from under you. You might have to call it a night soon... And then you must remember to go and help Jin in the morning...it’s not his fault that you keep getting sent on these wild goose chases by the possibly-a-ghost librarian.

Your breathing has calmed enough that you can walk now, and though you know you’re sweating up a storm, you decide to go into the store. At least before you start to smell. You don’t see Taehyung anywhere outside of it, but maybe they’ll have seen him inside.

The bell above you is light when you open the door, the air inside just as fragrant as ever with fresh fruit and vegetables, cooled from being sheltered from direct sunshine. It’s Eunju, this time, manning the counter, who gives you a warm smile when she spots you. She moves to say something, starting to circle around the side of the counter to greet you, but is interrupted entirely when an even older woman shuffles out from underneath the blanket hiding the back of the store. She’s bent over, old age curving her spine, claiming her thinning hair and turning it shock-white. She wears a soft-looking cardigan that all but hides her bone-thin fingers, the glasses perched on the end of her dainty nose as thick as bottle bottoms. She’s clutching something close to her chest, and after a moment you recognize it as a bear, reared up on its hind paws, mouth open in a silent roar, carved out of stone.

“For the front of the store, Eunju,” she croaks as she walks past, her voice dry as bone.

“No, mother, now, we’ve discussed this,” Miss Eunju tries to step in, chastising, but the woman won’t be budged, clutching the figure more resolutely to herself with a sharp glare that almost makes you laugh despite yourself. She ducks Eunju’s attempt to herd her back into the back of the store, waddling forward with the determination of a much younger woman.

“It’s an eyesore,” Eunju complains, trying not to chuckle as she reaches again for the item in question. “The neighborhood children don’t like them.”

“I don’t care what you think of it,” the older lady rasps loudly, still hurtling towards you with all the speed you imagine she can muster, “There is mischief about Spirit Lights.”

As she comes closer, you can make out her nails, painted a modest brown, the pearls hanging from her lobes, the subdued but fine quality of her cardigan. She looks like a woman with power, even now. Reserved, but not likely to take any kind of nonsense. You can see where Miss Eunju must get it from.

“Good evening,” she greets you politely, and out of respect, you immediately move out of her path, convinced that otherwise she’d mow you down just as surely as the tide comes in, hiding your grin with a nod.

“Good evening,” you reply, but you doubt she can hear you. She shuffles past you, to the outside of the store.

Eunju comes to an exhausted halt just by your side, watching her mother with an expression of mild despair as she props her hands on her ample waist.

“Bah!” she calls, but you can hear the fondness in it. “Stubborn old bat. Only time you can count on her moving so quickly is when she’s being spiteful.” She sighs, shaking her head, but turns back to you with a fond look. “Hello again. What can I help you with? Was the candy alright? How is your handsome little chaperone?”

“The candy was perfect, thank you,” you reply. “And actually, I was wondering if you’d seen him. I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

“Oh,” she waves dismissively. “He’ll turn up. They always do, the rascals. I wouldn’t worry about it. This close to Spirit Lights, they always get a little squirrely.”

You blink. “...The strays?”

“This town doesn’t have strays.” Her attention is quickly claimed by her mother appearing again, turning on her heel and trotting back in with the self-assured gait of a successful mission completed. “You know I’m going to take that back inside.”

“You do and I will put it right back where it belongs,” is her response.

“They can’t come into private property, mother.”

“Well, you never know.”

“I do know! I have lived here nearly as long as you!”

The older woman scoffs, waving an ancient hand as she scoots past.

“There, now, see, Sungmin makes fun for my belief,” Eunju huffs, “but I am nothing compared to that absolute madwoman. Anyways.” She leans forward, putting a reassuring hand on your arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen your friend. But I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” She starts with a soft gasp of delight, looking suddenly at your arm. “Ah, your bracelet! I love that.”

“Thank you! I found it in my grandmother’s shed. I think it was mine when I was young,” you beam. She nods, patting you once with a knowing crook of her eyebrow.

“You know what it reminds me of,” she says. “Here. It looks like this town to me. I’ve seen designs like that before. Good luck charms made for children.” She pats you again, her eyes squinting when her smile grows. “It suits you. This town suits you, I think.”

She turns with an air of finality. “Now!” she adds, determined. “I’m going to take that heinous thing inside before it scares off my poor customers.”

You giggle, watching her grab it and cart it back into the store.

“Ever since that fiasco,” she huffs balefully. “She’s been working overtime to try and keep the spirits out. I swear she gets this manic light in her eyes...”

“Fiasco?”

“Oh.” She pauses before resuming her trek, still chattering away, “I wouldn’t worry about it. Just some fearful business some time ago. Quite a few years ago now. Nothing came of it, anyhow, last I heard everyone was quite alright.” She turns as she walks to wag a finger at you. “Just don’t forget to be careful on Spirit Lights, that’s all. Some of the children don’t know any better, you know.”

“I’ll be sure to be careful,” you reassure her. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Anytime you need anything, you know where to find us.”

The trek back home feels long. Lonely.

You perk up at the half-hearted hope that maybe Taehyung will greet you at the gate again, but slowly realize you’re on your own. As you get ready for bed, aching from your run, tired from the strange things that have happened to you during the day, you find yourself missing the little dog at your feet. The bed seems smaller and less inviting without him on it, and as you tuck in for the night, you heave your own world-weary sigh in his place.

Even if you don’t figure out what Namjoon wants you to do, you hope you find him. It was nice to have a friend.

You slip quickly, silently, into dreams made of velvet skies and starry lights.

Previous Masterlist Next

#stray cat strut #bts x reader #bts faerie au #bts fanfic #bts fluff #weooww theres some stuff #theres something big and obvious i feel like and then a blink-and-youll-miss it plot point #but i dont think itll mean anything to anyone for at least another two chapters.

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wyvernquill · 5 years ago

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WyvernQuill's GOOD OMENS Works - Masterpost

Hello everybody, hope you're doing well in these turbulent times! I figured now would be as good a time as any to compile all my GO fics here, so anyone affected by quarantine/social distancing measures can treat themselves to a bit of Ineffable Goodness if they're so inclined. (All of these are Aziraphale/Crowley, with the occasional side pairing thrown in, and all of them have/will have a happy ending, no matter what!)

So, without further ado:

Good Endings (56k, completed, T): humorous post-canon slow burn with ensemble cast matchmakers, angst, and Pratchettisms abound; book canon, mostly written pre-show, with plenty of illustrations!

Flies and Furniture (<1k, completed, G): Ineffable Bureaucracy gets lost in an IKEA. That's it, that's the fic. More than a bit cracky, obviously.

Marriage and Misery (10k, completed, M): Regency-era marriage of convenience, lots of pining and misunderstandings; human AU, but pointed avoidance of period-typical homophobia - Aziraphale has many struggles to overcome, but being gay ain't one of 'em!

Team Ineffable - A Pokémon GOmens Story (3k, completed, G): humorous meet-cute fluff with a bit of a crack twist, in which Crowley and his one (1) braincell try to pass him off as a Pokémon Go expert to impress Aziraphale; human AU, no real knowledge of Pokémon Go required.

By Any Other Name (12k, completed, T): soulmate names AU with a bit of a twist, full of pining and misunderstandings. Crowley's name reads "Aziraphale", but Aziraphale's doesn't read "Crowley"...; follows canon through the 6000 years of slow burn, part of a Soulmate AU pact with Lurlur and Pearl09 - do read their fantastic fics here and here, too!

All's Fair In Love And Serial Killing (10k, completed, M, graphic violence): serial killer/cop AU that is far cuter and sillier than that premise suggests - apparently I can't write anything without a twist to it; human AU, mind the warnings, minor character death but only bad guys, unreliable-narrator!Crowley.

Yes and Please and Thank You (19k, ongoing, T): lots of angst, Crowley has been under an obedience curse since before meeting Aziraphale and it causes Problems(tm); first two chapters follow canon, everything after is post-canon, some Adam&The Them feels thrown in for flavour.

AN ANTICHRISTMAS CAROL (7k, ongoing, T): retelling of A Christmas Carol but with more of a romance plot; human/Victorian AU, written in the style of Dickensian prose.

Born To Take Care Of You (18k, completed, M): reverse!Omens mutual pining and mistaken identity, featuring Azirafell, Baron of Eternal Torments, and the Archangel Raphael pretending to be merely a demon called Crowley; reverse AU, obviously, follows the 6000 years of slow burn.

Tied Up With String (comic, completed, G): silly little fluff comic for the Christmas season, featuring atrocious self-knitted sweaters.

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (102k, completed, M): my GOBB fic! Crowley in opposite-world, humour, second apocalypse, lots of angst and pining with a happy ending. Ensemble cast, but, y'know, OPPOSITE ensemble. Main selling points include: Death doting over an adorable kitten, the Not-Them, Notziraphale actually selling his books, and secret library parties!; one-year-post-show canon. Also has beautiful art, and a fantastic mini-sequel by @rosiepaw!

Here's some more fics that I can only take partial credit for, so to speak:

COLLAB WORKS WITH VARIOUS OTHER AUTHORS:

Correction Fluid (16k, completed, E): very very smutty, and very very kinky. Doing your taxes (yes, really) has never been so hot - I was mostly involved in the form of 50+ humorous footnotes, all the wonderful sex is the work of... entirely too many fantastic fellow authors who just went feral in a Google doc.

Correction Fluid [ART] (art, completed, M): see above - sexy collab art for sexy collab fic, coloured by the awesome robynthemagpie!

Līgfāmblāwende (5k, completed, G): St. George and the Dragon, except it's Crowley and he's really just playing along with it for laughs. Light-hearted and fun!

Of Good Books & Black Omens (11k, completed, T): crossover with Black Books - Aziraphale and Bertram strike up a friendship over hating the customers of their respective bookshops, and Crowley feels replaced; Manny, meanwhile, is just along for the ride. Knowledge of Black Books enriches the experience, but possible to read just for Aziraphale and Crowley, as well.

My Fair Angel (14k, completed, G): writing all done by the amazing @handlebarstiedtothestars, I only did the illustrations. Retelling of My Fair Lady, in which Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to pass off the Them as little heirs and an heiress; includes lots of delicious, delicious pining and genderqueer!Crowley in Audrey Hepburn's beautiful dresses.

Miami Ice (3k, ongoing, T): a present for @aughtpunk, built around their prompt of Aziraphale and Crowley being responsible for the Under Pressure sample in Ice Ice Baby - now with extra Florida, alligators, NASA, and space!

And, I only drew for these, but can personally vouch for their fantasticness, so what the Hell, they get included in this list, too!

GOBB FICS I DID ART FOR:

Panem Et Circenses (89k, completed, T), by @thelittleblackfox: Aziraphale and Crowley take part in the Great British Bake-Off. Need I say more? Absolutely brilliantly written and downright delicious, and you'll LOVE Mel and Sue!!! Not a human AU, but canon divergence - slown burn, and lots and lots of mutual pining.

Butterflies In A Bell Jar (31k, completed, T), by @still-not-king:two office workers meet, hit it off, and fall in love, almost as if they've always known each other... but why is the office's non-fraternisation policy so unforgivingly strict, and what's the deal with their odd bosses? An absolutely wonderful office human!AU... or IS IT!?!? ;)

All The World's A Stage (16k, completed, G), by @ifeelbetterer: theatre students Adam and Warlock are matchmaking between their professors Crowley and Aziraphale, and maybe, possibly, perhaps, growing fond of each other in turn... adorable, full of pining, and some big misunderstandings all around!

Tadfield Heat (15k, completed, M), by @vodkertonic: do you like Hot Fuzz? Then you'll love this one! Crowley and Belle (Beelzebub) are detectives in a tiny little village, and their respective crushes, bookshop owner Aziraphale and the strange new American in town may or may not actually be spies... Ineffable Bureaucracy and Ineffable Husbands, an absolute delight!

Roman Holiday (30k, completed, G), by @percyjacksonfan3: beautiful, touching retelling of the movie, featuring genderfluid!Crowley (and a less bittersweet ending than the original, rest assured!)

All of these five are absolutely fantastic fics I am honoured to have had the privilege of drawing for, and I promise you're going to enjoy every single one!!!

That's all of them for now, though rest assured I have more planned - I'll update this list if any of the ongoing fics get completed, or if I start a new one. Please enjoy, and stay safe everyone!

^-^ <3

(And here's some dancing book!Husbands for you, just because!)

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fic rec #fic masterlist #fic masterpost #aziraphale #crowley #thelittleblackfox #still-not-king #ifeelbetterer #vodkertonic #percyjacksonfan3 #aughtpunk #handlebarstiedtothestars #WyWrites #WyDraws #good omens fic #fan art #fanfic

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golchaworld · 5 years ago

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Subtract from this Divide | B.C

➳ pairing: delinquent!reader x student council president!chan

➳ genre: high school!au, fluff, mild angst

➳ word count: ~4.8k

➳ warnings: language, making out, mentions of smoking/drug use, mentions of sex/virginity

➳ summary: Putting a divide between you and Chan was the best thing you could have done for your reputations. But when the past starts to clash with the present, and rumors matter more than reputation, you find yourself feeling increasingly distant. Is there any way to subtract from the divide that has been created between you two?

A/N: So I started this piece over a year ago, which is super wild to think about. I wanted to do a reversal of the normal bad boy narrative, and this is what I ended up with. Tbh the plot is pretty bad, but I think the character study aspect is pretty interesting. As always, feel free to share your thoughts!

Your image as the baddest rebel in school was completely secure. After three years at your godforsaken high school, you were able to be top dog. No one ever messed with you. As you walked down the hallways, the crowd practically parted for you. Very simply, everyone was scared; and that was just how you liked it.

It started after you were suspended freshman year for graffiti in the bathroom. You had gotten caught with a can of blue spray paint right as you were walking out. Your principal was so furious that he thought that suspension wouldn’t be enough, but after a quick talk with your parents, you knew that your punishment wouldn’t be any worse. From that moment on, you knew you could practically get off scot free for any offense, so you let it go to your head just a little bit. You started cutting class, skateboarding in the hallways, and cursing at teachers, simply because you could. Your punishment was never more than a detention or a brief scolding from the principal you had gotten oh so acquainted with over the years.

The rumors about you were wild, to say the least. Boys fawned over you, intimidated in a way that had their fantasies running wild. There was always gossip about you fucking someone knew, but it was never true. Sure, you weren’t the Virgin Mary, but boys in your school didn’t truly appeal to you. The girls were even worse. They were the ones who created rumors about your home life, your GPA, and everything in between. Little did they know that everything was fine. The rebel image you upheld only applied to your personality and disciplinary history, not your home life or academic intelligence.

Although you were secure in your position and persona, you knew that one person could change that entire thing: your boyfriend. You loved Chan. He was the sweetest and dorkiest guy you had ever met, and that was just the problem. He was student council president, leader of the school’s acapella group, and top of the honor roll. You two were polar opposites, and you knew that if news of you two dating got out, it would taint both of your images. Your bad girl image would vanish if you admitted you had a soft spot for such a good guy. Chan could no longer be Mr. Perfect if his girlfriend were such a rebel. So you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.

It was easy in the beginning. You two would only hang out outside of school. You would go out of your way to go to events two, three towns over just to minimize the chances of running into someone from your school. The two of you often found yourself in an ice cream shop 45 minutes away for your dates, just happy to be in each others’ presence despite the long journey. However, you found that the perfect medium was hanging out at each others’ houses. It was the perfect combination of seclusion and intimacy, allowing you two to be both carefree and close.

But as your relationship developed, and the two of you fell in love, it became harder and harder to conceal your relationship. You found yourself wanting to tell your best friends, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Minho, about your wonderful boyfriend more often than not. Chan had the same sentiment, struggling to keep his best friends, Jisung and Felix, out of the loop. But you two had talked about it and decided that it was too risky, even to just be limited to best friends.

So the two of you came up with a pact, you wouldn’t even look at each other when in school. Everytime you passed each other in the hallways, it would be nothing but blank stares as you walked away. There were no smiles, giggles, or heavy eye contact when anyone else was around. But on the rare occasion that you two found yourselves alone during the school day, the pact went out of the window. Whether it was quick makeouts in between the bookshelves of the library, or a check-in in the janitor’s closet, you two found any excuse to see each other during the day. And no matter how much it happened, your heart always broke a little when it was time to go your separate ways.

As you walked down the hallway in between first and second period on a Tuesday morning, Minho was talking your ear off. He felt the need to explain to you the details of the “best head he’d ever received” this past weekend. It took all you had not to roll your eyes. You loved Minho, but you two were very different. Unlike you, he used his bad boy, rebel image to get with practically everyone in the school. Girls, guys, it didn’t matter to Minho. He was just in it for the orgasm. No matter how much his behavior bothered you, he was one of your best friends, and you loved him. But that didn’t mean you wanted to hear the details of his every sexual encounter.

The two of you trekked further down the middle of the hallway, watching everyone’s faces twist in fear as they spotted you. It gave you a weird satisfaction, knowing that everyone revered and feared you. But when you came across one group that refused to move for you, your heart contracted. There was Chan, along with Jisung and Felix, walking straight in your direction. It was hard for you not to outwardly coo, let alone keep your face set in stone. Your boyfriend’s hair was in its natural curly state, a dark brown halo above his head. His blue polo shirt was buttoned almost all the way up, khaki pants freshly ironed. You were internally dying at the sight. But you did nothing, keeping your eyes set straight ahead of you as you passed your secret love. When you were a safe distance away, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What do you think about Chan?” Minho asked casually as you two turned into your shared second period class.

“What is there to think about him?” Your heart was racing in panic. “I forget he exists sometimes.”

Minho chuckled from his desk beside yours. “I call bullshit on that one. He’s everywhere! Hell, he’s student council president. There’s no way you can forget about him, especially when he looks like that.”

It wasn’t new to you that people found your boyfriend attractive. Since freshman year, everyone in school has been ogling over him, wanting to ruin the perfect pretty boy. He kept his record clean though, never giving anyone in school the time of day. That didn’t stop people from trying, though, including Minho. It always sucked to hear your best friend go on and on about how hot your boyfriend was, even if he didn’t know he was your boyfriend.

“Eh, he’s not all that,” you answered back coolly. “I think you’re much hotter, Minho.”

Your best friend rolled his eyes at you as you jokingly smirked and winked. This was normal for you two, casual flirty banter that had everyone in school secretly wondering if you were together on the down low. It was actually extremely common. The entire school practically assumed you were with one of your three best friends. The best theory you heard was junior year, when the captain of the cheerleading squad spread the rumor that the four of you were in a polyamorous relationship. Sure, you knew all of your friends were hot, but the rumor still had you laughing to date. There was nothing better than the gossip you heard about yourself and your friends, but there was nothing worse than hearing gossip about your boyfriend. So when you heard two girls whispering Chan’s name from the seats behind you, you instantly tuned in.

“I heard Chan is going to ask out Naomi. Jisung told me that he does nothing but check her out all day,” one girl whispered.

The other girl sighed loudly. “God, what I would give to be Naomi. I wish Chan would check me out all day.”

You felt your hand subconsciously curl around the edge of your desk. You told yourself to breathe deep, counting to ten in an attempt to keep your temper in check. It was difficult, however, as the girls continued to blabber on about Chan’s perfection. Their banter was ultimately silenced by the bell, and then the teacher as class began. You just picked up your pencil and began writing, making a mental note to bring up the incident with your boyfriend later on.

. . .

You paced the last bookshelf in the corner of the library during lunchtime, waiting for your boyfriend to appear. When you sent your text about needing to see him, you meant it, the gossip of second period still heavy in your mind. As the boy appeared, he made sure to check behind him before walking closer to you. He was quick to encase you in his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Hey, baby girl. Missed me too much?” He smirked as he spoke, hands still placed firmly on your waist.

“I just needed to see you.”

Chan ducked down, placing another kiss on your lips. He attempted to take it further, biting down softly on your bottom lip. It took all of your resolve to push him away, and he whined quietly as you did.

“That’s not why I asked you to come here.”

When Chan saw the distress in your eyes, he was instantly concerned. You were a tough one, and it took a lot for things to bother you. So if something was bothering you to the point where you were physically in strife, he knew it must be serious.

“What’s wrong?” Chan ran a hand through your hair, letting his other one still rest softly on your waist.

“So I heard that you’re into Naomi Hendricks now,” you chuckled bitterly. “A girl in class was talking all about how she wished to be Naomi so you could check her out like you check Naomi out. And the funny thing is that apparently Jisung is convinced that you’re going to ask her out. Now why would he think that, Christopher?”

Chan knew you only used his real name when you were truly upset. “Y/N, it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Chris?”

“Jisung and Felix think that I’m not getting any, so they’re just trying to set me up with people. I told them I’m not interested, but they just won’t listen. You know better than anyone that I don’t want anyone but you. I just can’t tell them that, so they just run with it. I’m sorry, baby girl, that you have to hear these rumors, but you have to know they’re not true.”

You looked Chan in the eyes, searching for any reason not to trust his answer. But as you got lost in his normal, sincere gaze, you knew he was telling the truth. You sighed audibly.

“Alright, I’m sorry. It just sucks hearing all of these rumors about you. I don’t want to think about my boyfriend being into anyone else.”

Chan smiled brightly, letting his prominent dimples show. “Tell me about it. If I hear another thing about you fucking Changbin, I think I’m going to lose it.”

You laughed in return, letting your nose crinkle at the thought. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Just like you don’t have to worry about me,” Chan stated softly. “I love you, and only you.”

You let yourself nod, looking up to meet your boyfriend’s eyes. He smiled back at you, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your lips. Your arms slowly snuck their way around his neck, allowing you to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. You felt Chan sigh as you nibbled on his bottom lip, curling your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. The two of you continued to kiss passionately, letting yourselves get lost in each other. But as Chan began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, the bell rang out loudly, signalling the end of the period.

“What class do you have?” Chan whispered in your ear, making no moves to stop what he was doing.

“Math,” you gasped out lightly. “What about you?”

You felt Chan smirk against your jaw. “Free period.”

Chan trailed back up to reconnect his lips to yours. “I can skip,” you breathed out in between heated kisses. “Class can wait.”

Chan just shook his head, fully disconnecting from you. He chuckled softly as you attempted to follow his lips for a moment before realizing that he was letting you go. Your eyes shot open at the same time a frown manifested itself on your face.

“I can’t let you skip, baby.”

You cursed your boyfriend’s goody two shoes nature. Rolling your eyes, you muttered out a “fine” before grabbing the backpack you had discarded on the floor. You turned to leave, only to be pulled back by a warm hand on your wrist. You barely had time to register your boyfriend’s warm lips on yours before he was pulling away, sending you off with a small tap of your backside.

“Have fun in class,” he whispered. “Love you!”

You turned around to send him a sarcastic smile. “I won’t. Love you, too.”

. . .

After school, you walked to your locker with both Hyunjin and Changbin at your sides. For some reason, the three of you couldn’t find Minho anywhere, so you assumed that he either got caught up flirting or fucking. Either way, the three of you didn’t mind, you just planned to walk home together without him.

As you opened your locker, you heard labored breathing and heavy footsteps behind you. With the distinct sound of Hyunjin’s laughter, you knew Minho had showed up. You looked behind you briefly, but it was long enough to register Minho’s disheveled hair and the blooming red bruises on his jaw and neck.

“What happened to you?” Changbin sounded exasperated.

Hyunjin was still laughing. “More like who happened to you? It looks like you just got out of a gang fight where you could only punch each other in the neck.”

You just shook your head, trying to find the right books to bring home for that night’s homework. Your friends continued to bicker behind you, only growing louder as Minho insisted that the identity of the person who he was with remained a secret until the walk home. When you finally gathered all of your materials, you shut your locker, signalling to your group of friends that it was time to go.

The four of you were quick to head out of the main school doors and down the street, heading first to Changbin’s house a few blocks away. Once Minho deemed that you were far enough away from the school, he began to tell the story behind his appearance.

“Okay, so I couldn’t say this information earlier because it’s top secret. No one can know about this.”

You saw Hyunjin roll his eyes. “There’s no such thing as secrets with you, Minho.”

“Well then let this be my first,” Minho retorted. “So I was smoking out by the football field, when Han Jisung approached me and just started going off on me about how bad smoking is for your lungs and cancer and gum disease and blah blah blah. And then next thing I know, we’re making out, and then he’s sucking my dick.”

Changbin groaned loudly. “You really didn’t need to say that last part.”

You, on the other hand, were extremely confused. In all the years you’d known Chan, he never once mentioned Jisung being interested in guys. “I’m calling bullshit. I don’t even think Jisung plays for the other team.”

“He doesn’t.” Minho sent a smirk in your direction, prompting you to fake-gag. “Can I just say that ruining straight boys is the best.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “If you’re ‘ruining’ them, they must not have been straight to begin with.”

“You want to test that theory?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows at Hyunjin, only to get shoved off the sidewalk by the taller boy.

Changbin chuckled from his position next to you at their antics. Although you knew the rest of the school saw the four of you as big, scary, bad kids, you were really just all dorks on the inside. You were dorks who just happened to like wearing all black and breaking the rules.

About five minutes later, you all arrived at Changbin’s front door, waving him off with a simple goodbye. Next was Minho’s house down the street. When you finally dropped the hickey-covered boy off, Hyunjin immediately burst into loud laughter. You looked at the boy as if he were crazy, completely confused on what could be so funny.

“Minho and Jisung. Our Minho and Han Jisung! That’s fucking hilarious.” He clapped his hands together comically.

You just shook your head. “I think it’s cute.”

“Cute?” Hyunjin turned to face you. “Our bad boy, flunking Minho, with honor roll, president of the school’s medical society Jisung. It’s ridiculous! It’s like something out of a movie. But in real life, people like us don’t fit with people like that. So Minho’s up for a rude awakening.”

“Don’t say that, Jinnie.”

The tall boy just shrugged. “It’s the truth. I didn’t make the rules.”

As you two approached your house, Hyunjin began to blabber on about something you couldn’t focus on. You were barely listening, though, his commentary about Minho and Jisung still sticking fresh in your mind.

People like us don’t fit with people like them.

Part of you wanted to revisit the topic, tell Hyunjin that he was wrong and that stereotype was nothing but that, a stereotype. But you knew any comment you would make would just arouse suspicion, so you decided to keep your mouth shut. When you finally arrived at your house, you noticed a familiar car parked out front, making you smile brightly. You bid Hyunjin goodbye with a quick hug, rushing to get inside and be with your boyfriend.

As you walked in through the front door, you could hear your mother chatting with Chan in the kitchen. One of the perks of having to hang out at one of your houses all the time was the fact that you both got close with each others’ parents extremely quickly. You made your way further inside, smiling as you spotted Chan standing next to your mother as she cooked something on the stove. She dipped a spoon into the silver pot, pulling out some liquid and giving it to Chan to taste.

“Wow, mom. You’re replacing me as the taste tester already!” You exclaimed in mock-offense.

Both your mother and Chan turned at the sound of your voice. “Well if it isn’t my little delinquent,” your mother teased. “What kind of trouble did you get in today?” You just rolled your eyes, stepping closer to the two by the stove. “Nothing today. But that just means I have to go rob a few banks tomorrow.”

Chan chuckled, walking over to pull you in a hug and placing a kiss on the top of your head. You took a deep breath as you cuddled into his chest, Hyunjin’s words still resonating with you.

“Chan and I are going upstairs, mom,” you announced, taking your boyfriend’s hand and leading him out of the kitchen.

“Be safe!” Your mom called after the two of you, making you groan loudly. Chan just laughed as the two of you climbed the stairs and made your way into your bedroom.

You placed your backpack down next to your barely-used desk. Doing your homework was a rare occurrence, but you scored high enough on tests that it never completely ruined your GPA. Chan had scolded you about it multiple times, but after a few weeks, he gave up completely.

Chan just took his normal position on your bed, never hesitating to make himself comfortable. You just smiled, rolling your eyes at the way he began to cuddle your pillow. With the way he was splayed out, there was barely any room for you on the small, twin-sized bed. Chan didn’t seem to give it any thought though, seeming as though he was unwilling to move from his comfortable position.

“I’m glad to see you’re always making yourself comfortable.”

Chan just hummed, nuzzling further into your purple silk pillowcase. His dark hair seemed to almost blend in with the dark blacks and purples adorning your room. You couldn’t help the way your heart melted, taking in the way Chan looked so at home in your room. No matter how much you tried to deny it, this boy was truly your soft spot.

“After you left today,” Chan started softly. “I was thinking a lot about the shit we hear about each other.”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t really see you. “Mhm,” you encouraged.

“I just think we should be really open with each other.”

“Are we not already super open?” You quirked an eyebrow at his unmoving form.

“Of course we are,” Chan finally moved his head from the pillow to look at you completely. “But I just don’t think there’s any harm in really letting each other in. Maybe then the rumors won’t bother us as much.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. You decided to use the black hair tie on your wrist to tie your hair up, knowing this was going to be a long process. “Is this why you came over?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. I just want to know everything about you, baby girl.”

Chan reached out for you, making an aborted noise into the pillow. You indulged him, getting up from the desk chair and squeezing onto your bed. Chan almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close so you two were nose to nose. He smiled softly, happy to finally have you carelessly in his arms.

“Hi there,” he whispered.

“Hi,” you responded softly. “So what do you want to know?”

“Well, for one thing, you weren’t a virgin when we met. You were my first time, but you never told me who yours was.”

You sighed as Chan’s hand began to rub slow circles into your waist. It pained you to have to reveal this information to your boyfriend, and that’s why you tried so hard to keep it a secret all this time. You knew that he would be beyond upset at the answer, but it was his fault for asking.

“Don’t be mad,” you stated, looking into his eyes for any signs of distrust.

“What? Why would I be mad?”

You let your eyes flicker downwards before coming back up to make eye contact. “It was Hyunjin.”

Chan pulled away from you with so much force that you almost fell off of the side of the bed. This was the reaction you dreaded. The amount of gossip surrounding you and your friends was tumultuous, and you didn’t want to give validity to any of it. But this, unfortunately, was very true.

“Hyunjin?” Chan muttered.

“It was the end of sophomore year! We were just young and fooling around as a ‘what if?’ and it escalated. We were always just friends and super comfortable with each other so we decided that we’d be comfortable losing it to each other. If I knew I was going to meet you and be with you three months later, I would have waited!”

Chan could sense the exasperation in your voice, but it wasn’t enough. He was never mad about the fact that you weren’t a virgin. He truly understood that different people tackle milestones at different paces. But deep down, he was always suspicious of how close you were to your three male friends. This just confirmed those suspicions.

“How many times?” Chan asked bluntly, sitting up on the bed.

You followed suit. “How many times what?”

“How many times did you and Hyunjin have sex?”

You sat silently, unable to do more than just stare at your visibly irritated boyfriend. Chan’s eyebrow raised at your ominous silence. He couldn’t stop the bubble of anger that was rising in his chest. If he had known this was going to be such a difficult conversation, he never would have initiated it. Now, however, he didn’t know if he could stop prying.

“More than once?”

You nodded wordlessly, eyes trained down on your folded legs.

“More than--”

“It was four times,” you cut your boyfriend off. “Before I met you, I had sex with Hwang Hyunjin four whole times. Is that what you were looking for?”

Chan was quiet, looking at you in a way that had your toes curling in anxiety. He didn’t have to know this, and you spent your entire relationship keeping it from him. You guessed he was right about the two of you opening up, but you hated the inevitable rift it would cause between you. Chan moved to stand, only to be stopped by your hand wrapping around his wrist, pulling him back.

“Don’t go, Chris. Please.” You pleaded with him softly.

Chan’s chest rose and fell once, twice, with each breath he took. Eventually he sat back down on the bed, eyes slowly meeting yours. You tried your best to smile, even though you could see the irritation in his eyes.

“Remember what you said to me earlier? There’s nobody but you, Chan.” You watched as your boyfriend’s eyes softened. “I love you and only you.”

Chan couldn’t force his voice to go above a whisper. “I love you, too.”

You smiled softly, removing your hand from his wrist only to lace his fingers with yours. After a moment, Chan smiled, looking at you apologetically. He couldn’t help the small flame of jealousy that ignited whenever there was mention of you with your three best friends. He knew deep down that you all were nothing more than friends, but it was difficult to ignore this piece of your history.

“I’m sorry for bringing this up,” he muttered. “I didn’t know it would get so bad so fast.”

Your smile was warm. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad that you know a little bit more about me now.”

“Yeah, I guess this did serve its purpose.”

“Not completely,” you teased. “You still haven’t told me something secret.”

Chan just groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face and causing you to chuckle. He knew exactly which story followed along the lines of the previous conversation, and he wondered if you could handle it. But, after the information you just shared with him, he forced all of his doubts to the back of his mind.

“Okay, so this is super top secret. You cannot tell anyone! It doesn’t just involve me, which is what makes the secrecy extra super important.”

You nodded, lifting your free hand. “I swear myself to secrecy.”

“So freshman year, Jisung was having a little sexuality crisis. He was telling me and Felix about how he thought he was bisexual, but he was worried since he had never been with a boy. So...we kissed.”

“Chan!” Your eyes widened in shock.

“It was nothing! I promise! Jisung didn’t end up figuring out anything, though, because he said it was like kissing his brother.”

You couldn’t suppress the laughter that was bubbling up. “You sound offended.” You teased.

Chan instantly looked offended, placing a hand over his heart. “I was offended! Jisung had the luxury of kissing me, a hot, sexy guy, and ended up not even enjoying it. It was some boy who he met last summer who made him fully realize that he was bi. He took me for granted if you ask me.”

By the teasing smile taking hold on your boyfriend’s face, you knew he was joking. His secret was still very real, but all of the outlandish reactions were just to make you smile. If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend at this point, it was that he would do anything to make you smile, even in the most serious moments.

“So then we both kissed our best friends?” You raised an eyebrow.

Chan shrugged. “I guess we did.”

“But now we’re only kissing each other, right?”

“Definitely,” Chan chuckled slightly. “Trust me, you’re the only one I want to kiss.”

You just smiled, leaning forward to connect your lips with your boyfriend’s. It was difficult, though, seeing as you were both grinning too widely.

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