#both get excited about a topic and just word vomit which I LOVE

[dourpeep]

Time to do what any writer would do and think up a story inspired by real life hehe

[lovieku]

GOOD LUCK, BABE! #2 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 9k +

☾ warnings: alcohol consumption. explicit language. underage drinking. this whole thing is fluff vibes imo. like jk is just a little loser who misses his best friend. gureum debut! i love this dog so much he deserves his own one shot.

☾ author’s note: hello !!! i hope this chapter isnt too slow for u guys.. i like this pace tho! we r starting to get to know our ggukkie better. but we’ll get to eunbi too! oh also, theres little hints that help understanding the timeline of the whole story so 👩🏻‍💻 thank u for ur time!!

ps : dal = moon in korean; boreumdal = full moon in korean. it’ll be useful as you read hehe.. ok bye!

prev ㅣ index ㅣ next

two ⋆ ribs

The first time Jeongguk got drunk, it was with his best friend. At the age of 15, the number of coming-of-age movies he had consumed with her by his side was more than he could count on both his hands and feet, never having enough of getting lost in a world that seemed so entrancing yet far. Not only because his age wasn’t exactly the one depicted in those films, but mainly because Busan didn’t offer such scenarios. Jeongguk was continuously inspired by those, so much so that he’s confident when admitting it was exactly that genre which got him to take directing and film production not only as a silly dream, but as an ambition. No matter how crazy it sounded to everybody’s ears, he wanted to follow that path, because only then he could translate his wild and eager imagination into somewhat of a concrete, tangible reality.

Having Eunbi by his side was only a bonus. At the end of every movie, after impatiently but silently waiting for the credits to roll (she knew Jeongguk took those very seriously, almost as a ritual), she would vomit every single thought she had harboured regarding what she had just watched and Jeongguk felt seen. His same hunger was reflected in his best friend’s eyes, and words, and passionate gestures when yearning for those experiences. The only difference was that, if Jeongguk was content with only jotting down their endless brainstorming after a long session of movie watching for future ideas that he hoped he could bring to the big screen, Eunbi was longing to bring those to life.

”I really wanna get drunk,” she whined in the older boy’s ears while munching on some remaining snacks, attentively observing Jeongguk’s skilled hand doodling what looked like two people watching the sunset on a beach. With time, he got used to staying focused on whatever task he was leading even with the girl going on about whatever passed her mind, but this time he released a chuckle and let his pencil roll down the couch, shifting his attention to his sulky friend.

“Why would you want that?” He said with a curiously amused expression, entertained by the pout on the girl’s face while she took his sketchbook and delicately traced the beer bottles he had scribbled earlier.

10 Things I Hate About You had been the current topic of discussion, being the last of three movies they had watched that afternoon and the one that Eunbi liked more. She couldn’t stop geeking about how cool Kat was and how she wanted to be her when she grew up. Jeongguk thought her little moment of admiration was funny, and let her go about it, “Everybody says it’s bad for your health and bla, bla, then why would they make it look so exciting?”

For the first time since their five years of friendship, Jeongguk thought of himself as the more rational one of the pair. Even if older (by one year), he had always been a bit childish around her and seemed to need his best friend to scold him with her witty, book-obsessed vocabulary. Thus, saying he was surprised by Eunbi’s claims would be an understatement. It was like the roles had switched when he said, “Well, it’s fiction. It’s supposed to be exciting.”

In response, he got the same glare he would reserve for her anytime she would tell him off for his immature behaviour, with an addition of an eye roll and an even sulkier expression, emphasised by her crossed arms. The boy giggled at her disappointment and snatched his sketchbook back from her hands, retrieving the pencil from where it had been buried under the cushions so he could resume his earlier activity.

However, the sudden silence was unsettling. It gave him a moment to realise he had never really been surrounded by quiet when hanging out with his neighbour. The Converse-lover girl would always fill any empty space with words, thoughts, songs, even random sounds made with her mouth, or hands. He was not sure if he should be thankful for such unusuality or if he should search for hints that could be hidden behind her odd quietude.

He went for the latter, and he was proved right when he lifted his head from his drawing and found his friend torturing her lower lip with her front teeth, staring into the void with narrowed thinking eyes. When she noticed his gaze on her, she exchanged eye contact and, unable to hide it longer, a mischievous smirk made its way to her mouth. Jeongguk shook his head, “You’re not seriously considering-“

”I’m just saying!” Her talkative self was back, sitting cross-legged on the couch and fully facing Jeongguk, trying to get him to direct his whole attention to her, “Dancing on a table seems fun…”

Jeongguk scoffed, amused by the way this one movie seemed to have had a huge impact on Eunbi’s running imagination, which he was very familiar with but, as he was having this conversation, he doubted if there was more he needed to discover, “Do you realise Kat was about to fall-“

”And! Got saved by hot Heath Ledger. Twice!” Jeongguk was used to being interrupted, especially when the conversation was about one of the girl’s favourite topics. He didn’t know Heath Ledger was on that list, though. He frowned, “You think he’s hot?”

Her response was as simple as a Duh!, making the boy feel stupid for questioning what seemed to be an ultimate truth. He rolled his eyes and went back to doodling meaningless details that would complete the image that had been clouding his mind, only for his shoulder to be shaken by a whiny Eunbi, “That was not the point. I’m telling you I wanna drink alcohol.”

Jeongguk snorted, taken aback by the unexpected outburst of confidence, then widened his already big eyes at her, signalling to quiet down, “My mom is literally in the next room.” That only got the daring girl to shrug her shoulders, eyebrows raised, and expecting an answer to her admission.

The older one sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and contemplating. His meditation was interrupted by his determined friend rocking his body back and forth by the sleeve of his t-shirt, in hopes of getting what she wanted. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but figured Jeongguk could find a solution for her. Said boy tried to get the constant pulling to stop, only when it wouldn’t he could only lightly push the younger one away, knowing it would cause a huge reaction. And not even three seconds after, she laid down and acted as if her arm was broken, and her whole body severely injured, faking cries and whines. Jeongguk laughed, “What do you want me to do? Where would I even get it?”

It’s like she was waiting for that exact question, because the moment it was asked her acting immediately came to an end, as she lifted her body up again and sat straight on her heels, “Your dad has a whole collection of random bottles. He won’t notice if one is missing.” The quick response sounded strangely rehearsed, and Jeongguk furrowed his brows.

A smile danced on his lips at seeing his best friend trying not to break too and instead maintain a serious composure, wanting to make her intentions clear and unmoved. Jeongguk was surprised at her sudden resolution, figuring it must not have been so sudden after all, ”How long were you keeping this inside?”

”Literally forever,” she eventually broke, releasing a long breath, her body bending down with it but then regaining its straight posture, resuming her Convincing-BFF-To-Get-Drunk plan, “Movie was the last straw. Please Ggukkie?” She mustered her best puppy eyes and Jeongguk narrowed his, unbelieving of all the tactics she was using to get to her goal.

”No.” He strangely managed to sound firm, despite Eunbi insisting and now deepening her pout, making it hard for the boy to deny her request, “Dad will kill me.”

”I’m sure he won’t notice,” the way she was talking made it sound like she knew exactly what needed to be done, as if she was explaining something as obvious as Heath Ledger being hot. The look in her best friend’s eyes, however, let her know he wasn’t fully on her side yet, so she came up with something unexpected even to herself, as proved by her dubious expression after uttering out, “I will also steal a few beers from mom.”

Jeongguk fully broke out laughing then, nose scrunching and eyes squeezing, hand over his belly while muttering something close to You’re insane, and that went on for a minute, the reaction carrying at seeing his neighbour being as serious as ever, not even hinting a smile (even if she was doing her best to suppress it).

When the chuckles eventually came to an end, the brown-haired boy shook his head and went back to his drawing, leaving the girl incredulous at being ignored like that by who she thought would always be her Number One Supporter. She gasped, mouth hanging. Jeongguk smirked amusedly, seeing her through his peripheral vision, “What?”

The younger one whined and fussed on the couch, impatient with Jeongguk being seemingly impossible to convince but stubborn with wanting to make him agree. When not even her begging worked, going ignored as everything else she was doing, she sat silently just following Jeongguk’s hand on the paper. The boy thought it was over, until Eunbi let her mind speak again, this time more spontaneously, “You know, this thing you’re drawing, it could be reality. Not just film reality, I’m talking about us two drunk on the Busan beach, enjoying everything it has to offer. Can you really resist it?”

Eyebrows wiggling and a mischievous smile on her face, Jeongguk knew he was being difficult just because, the idea of getting drunk with his best friend had sounded inviting right from the start. Little by little, he was breaking, still hesitating when he admitted, ”Busan beach doesn’t sound that exciting but… Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

At that, the girl’s eyes went sparkling, hopeful of finally winning her battle, ”That would be suuuper cool! C’mon, Ggukkie.”

Her hands were back on his shoulder, shaking him with less vigour this time but still making the boy giggle, “How would that even work-“

”We sneak out.” Once again, her rapid reply sounded so sure, it almost scared Jeongguk. He wanted to laugh again, but something in the girl’s expression made him hold back, slowly being persuaded by her convincing tactics, “I got everything planned. Let’s put the movie brainstorming aside and keep the get-drunk plan brainstorming going and I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll move through it.”

Jeongguk hesitated. The light in her eyes made him put the doubts to the side, ”Alright.”

That same night, they put the plan into action. It wasn’t too thought-out, but Eunbi had a way with words that made anything sound magical and captivating, just as those directors Jeongguk admired could depict their young age in a way too fascinating vision. They had decided to sneak out of their windows at 1 a.m., and before that, they would get their hands on what they had agreed and figured would get them drunk enough: whatever hard liquor attracted the boy more out of his dad’s collection, and two beer bottles from Eunbi’s fridge.

Both of them were clumsy with their actions. If they had to complete this initial part being together, the whole plan would have failed with how much one would have laughed at the other, and vice versa. Jeongguk made the bottle clink with another, while his best friend in the house next to his closed the fridge too hard, causing uncalled-for noise. The sounds were amplified by the quiet of the night, making the youngsters awkwardly stand still for a second, terror-stricken in hopes they wouldn’t get caught. What followed after was hastily placing the contents in their backpack and waiting some more by their window, ensuring no odd movement was heard from their parents’ room. When everything seemed under control, they nimbly climbed out, landing on their feet.

The first to appear outside was the younger one. With every fast and speedy beat of her heart, she felt it coming up her throat. All her senses were ten times stronger at that moment, and she could feel a jittery sensation travel through her whole body, running in her veins and seemingly unstoppable. She tried to, by harshly biting her lip and clasping a hand over her chest. Where the heck was Jeongguk? And why was she so cold? She wished telepathy existed, as she hoped with all her might that her friend had brought a jacket she could steal.

When a minute passed and there was no sight of the older boy, she felt utterly betrayed, and tried to come up with any excuse that could justify Jeongguk’s delay: there were none. If she could make noises she would whine, both the cold and the wait being unbearable.

Jeongguk appeared seconds later, looking like a deer caught in headlights as his feet landed on the ground with a stomping sound. Eunbi couldn’t help the snort escaping her mouth, quickly clasping a hand over it while the boy made his way to her with big eyes and his pointer finger laying over his lips, demanding absolute silence.

The two didn’t utter a single word until they were at a safe distance from their houses, and when they looked back and noticed how those were becoming smaller with each step they took, the smiles on their faces grew bigger. The girl in her Converses giggled and incredulously shook his friend’s arm, “What. The. Heck. We did it!”

Jeongguk let a nervous chuckle escape his lips, sharing that same excitement mixed with tension that he could feel oozing from his best friend, now hanging from his arm, “We did it. Now, where do we go from here?”

“Trust me, Gguk. I told you I know my way,” once again, the younger one managed to sound convincing enough, and Jeongguk let himself put his whole trust in her, too agitated to argue. However, Eunbi expertly noticed the unusual edginess in her friend’s nodding and lost gaze, so using the time it took to get to the beach through the route she knew best, she let out every single thought that passed her mind. Just as the dynamic between them was often like, but this time it served as a way to distract Jeongguk; and it did. The boy chuckled there and then at various comments, adding to them too. He laughed loudly when Eunbi admitted she brought some strawberries and water, just in case, and called her a dumbass. They then proceeded to have a meaningless argument about it, all while he took note of how the girl’s skin seemed to prickle with the soft wind, and laid his hoodie on her shoulders. They had a subtle way of caring about each other, which nonetheless never went unnoticed, but still not really mentioned.

1 a.m. was dark, darker than they’d ever witnessed, and if it wasn’t for the tall buildings behind them, the beach would have been completely surrounded by obscurity. The closer they got to the sea, the more the moon also helped reduce such blackness, with its light reflecting in the water. The pair sat down on the sand, picking the spot they had claimed as theirs during one of their many beach days on the hottest days of summer. There wasn’t much talking now, both of them eager to start the final and main part of the plan, but none of the two brave enough to break the seal.

Eunbi wrapped herself around Jeongguk’s hoodie, her knees to her chest and her chin to her knees, observing the boy sitting by her side with a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her nose scrunched tenderly when he reciprocated it, and her voice was suddenly small, “You want a strawberry?”

”You dragged me all the way over here to eat strawberries?” He chuckled at the girl’s out-of-character embarrassment and lightly shoved her shoulder, getting a lively giggle out of her. She shrugged, putting up her best innocent act, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeongguk didn’t say anything while he unzipped his backpack and took the main character of the night out, a bottle of Absolut Vodka, the one that had scared the boy less out of the whole collection, its liquid clear like water and seemingly free from danger. Who knows, maybe it also tastes like water.

He was proved wrong not much later, when he brought his mouth to the rim and gulped the first sip, its burning taste firing up his throat, then extending to his chest and finding home in his stomach. Jeongguk emitted a loud groan, eyes squeezing shut with the force of the foreign feeling, and distanced himself from the bottle to cough. The younger one had watched the whole scene with big eyes, unconsciously following every movement of his with her head, attentively studying his reaction and then laughing at his disgusted expression. She stole the bottle from his hands and repeated the same actions.

Unexpectedly, she accepted the sensation much better than the older one, only shaking her head fast in hopes the liquid would go down rapidly, and then taking another huge gulp right after. Jeongguk snatched the bottle from her hold to clasp it to his chest, his brows furrowed, “Woah, slow down there.”

”If I focus on how shit it tastes, I will never get drunk. Let me finish it,” her eagerness triggered Jeongguk’s competitive side, bringing him to swallow down a bigger amount than he had seen her sip, gulping loudly and then standing still, as if to prove a point. See? It doesn’t affect me either, that’s what his eyes were screaming. Of course, Eunbi didn’t back out, a silent race starting between the two the moment she claimed the bottle again and looked him right in the eyes while drinking. Jeongguk laughed too loudly, but he couldn’t control it, “That’s how it is?”

In between sneers and roasts, the competition went on until Eunbi announced her whole world was spinning, and the liquid covered a little less than half of the bottle. Jeongguk felt irrational contentment brimming his mind, making his body feel light yet still shaken by adrenaline. Unlike his friend, he could at least form coherent sentences, though. He had regulated the amount of alcohol he was ingesting, so that he could ensure one of them could still lucidly operate in case anything happened. He had also pulled the bottle away from Eunbi’s mouth multiple times whenever she would overdo the quantity she was drinking, but he figured it still affected her way more than it did him.

Indeed, a whole 10 minutes had passed of her munching on those strawberries she just had to take with her while walking in circles around Jeongguk’s sitting figure. Before going on that ritual-like path, she had also tried one of the two canned beers, and the littlest sip of it had made her declare it as the worst beverage on earth. Jeongguk didn’t mind it, surely liked it more than the clear vodka, but made sure to empty the opened can and hide the other in his backpack, in case his very tipsy friend wanted to try some more.

From his sitting position, he looked at her grinning when she would share bitten pieces of the red fruit with him, while still keeping up the constant walking and the random babbling. In the midst of it, she would also laugh to herself, and then resume her muttering, making the boy laugh as well with no exact knowledge of what she was saying. He just went along with it, didn’t get what was so funny but figured he was too tipsy to entertain meaningful conversation.

As he kept observing her, he saw her look up at the sky, the movement too fast for her spinny head, “Ouch.” She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly reopened them, only to be welcomed by black patches appearing and disappearing from her vision. Then, the starry sky is what she saw; the moon was next. She laughed at that too, spinning around a few times with her arms wide open.

Jeongguk does find a reason to laugh along with her now, his friend acting too silly his heart feels content just watching her, ”You look so dumb. What are you even doing?”

Giggles are her first response, followed by her suddenly sitting down on the sand, on the spot next to him. Jeongguk noticed some of the strawberry juice had dripped down her chin, so he cleaned it carefully with his thumb until there was none. She hiccuped, “Gguk, I think- I think I love the moon.” The sudden admission was out of context, but he accepted it. A little over an hour had gone by at that point, but once again she assumed the position she was in when they first arrived, knees to her chest and chin to her knees, with that same soft smile directed at him, only with sleepier eyes.

With the hand that was already close to her face, the older one moved some of the locks that were blocking her vision, then gently placed them behind her ear. He melted at the pleased expression on her face, her eyes gently closing. Jeongguk had always felt a sense of protection in her regards, just like a brother would to her sister. He wasn’t much older than her, but he still felt like he needed to be someone Eunbi could lean on and look up to. He followed along, nodding, “Yeah? You do look like the moon.” The tender moment seemed to have been interrupted by his comment. Her soft smile was replaced by a frown. Huh? Did he say something wrong?

With Jeongguk seated next to her, she turned to fully face him (the fast movement probably causing her head to hurt again) and furrowed her brows, “You do realise that’s not a compliment,” the same confused expression was now mirrored on her friend’s face, so she kept explaining, “You’re saying my face is round and puffy.”

The boy sitting cross-legged also fussed so he could be directly in front of her, facing the tipsy girl when he smirked, “Your face is round and puffy, Bee.” The grin turned into a full laugh when she hit his shoulder with a stronger force than usual, making him stumble. At that, she shoved him again, intent on making him fall on his back.

”What the hell? No, it’s not.” When she realised how weak alcohol was making her, she backed down from her mission and instead sat on her heels and crossed her arms, annoyed by the stupid smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes, “If anything, you look like a coconut. Fuck you.”

The boy feigned his shock, the act quickly being revealed by his uncontrollable giggles. The alcohol was getting her way sassier, and she was already too mouthy for his liking. Still, he was never intimidated by that, instead living off these moments just to make fun of her and wind her up further, “Should I call you Dal? My little Boreumdal?” His sickeningly sweet mocking voice was aggravated by his tickling under her armpit. She swatted him, “You’re being disgusting. I’ll throw up everything I drank on you.”

”I dare you Dal,” he wiggled his eyebrows and shortly after he figured that was the last teasing comment he could allow himself to throw at her before being pushed fully to the ground this time and receiving harmless punches on his stomach, which made him burst into lively laughter. The sand was getting in his hair and all over his clothes, but he didn’t care, his only goal being winning the nth fight between them, “Ouch, Dal stop-“

“Don’t call me that!” She was fully screaming at him now, her vodka breath fanning over his face while she kept tossing him on the sand, giggling along, “Stupid coconut.” Between laughs and jabs she didn’t realise how close they got, Jeongguk also working his way to free himself from his spot on the ground, resulting in her determined attitude trying to block him by sitting on his stomach and pushing his shoulders down.

However, when she felt his hands on her wrists, the contact triggered sudden awareness in her mind, registering the compromising position they were in, her whole face changing colour. With her movements being haltered, Jeongguk also seemed to notice the quick change in her expression. After a moment of silence, of her staring big-eyed in his starry eyes, a tipsy 15 year old Jeongguk could only come up with, “This is the first time I’m seeing a red moon.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It’s the echo of her voice, yelling Shut up! in his face that startles him awake. When he takes in his surroundings, he relaxes in the bed again. Jeongguk was right when he predicted how hard the simple act of falling asleep would have been, following being so close to the cause of his nightmares after years. He checks the time displayed on his phone, 6:08 a.m. His alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour. Sighing, he’s aware trying to get some more sleep after it had failed to find him would have been useless, reason why he goes on a staring contest with the ceiling.

It becomes a canva for his running mind, which projects the last image that he saw behind his closed eyelids: Eunbi’s face being centimetres to his, her head crowned by a shining white full moon. He’s unconscious of the smile creeping up on his mouth, but when he feels its sides twitch it turns into a deep frown. He hates his own brain for doing this to him, but is also aware the girl coming back so strong and unexpected in his life played a huge role.

It’s not like he was ever confident with the possibility of fully forgetting about her. How does one forget about the moon? But he could still say he had done a great job at keeping her locked in one dark room in the back of his mind; until not more than three months ago, when she showed up beside Dahye, her big smile greeting the rest of the group, but breaking in pieces when she spotted him. Had it been such a disgrace for her?

Jeongguk can’t blame her if she felt like that, because after an initial, very brief moment of surprise, excitement and sparks, he was surrounded by doom. It had been gruelling battling against the kid inside him, probably confused as to why his first instinct wasn’t to hug his Dal. It’s as if that version of him got stuck right in the place he was left, and when he saw her again he wished to pick up from where they had stopped, never having gotten closure. Last night would be an example: the urge to keep an eye out for her, care for her safety. It’s like telling a child Santa Claus isn’t real, and watching his world break. But Jeongguk needed the kid in him to be faced with the truth badly, before a light gets switched on in that dark room of his brain he keeps her in, and next thing he knows she finds the key to open it and escape.

That truth being the fact that everything changes, and people do too. Although, compared to the first time he saw her drunk, he wouldn’t say there were any changes: she would still mutter incoherent nonsense under her breath, and laugh for no apparent reason. And it had the same effect on him, pure amusement and adoration. But this time, he couldn’t let himself indulge in it.

Jeongguk can’t stand his brain being manipulated so easily by his heart, and rather having to sit helpless while witnessing such conflict, he figures he can start his day ahead and get up from his bed. What awaits him is a train journey to Busan in exactly two hours. With summer break starting, he had concluded he could use the most of it to be with his parents, starting by the weekend ahead. He’s fairly excited to be in his hometown again after months, and with the way his mind has been taking him back in time through the memories, he finds it funny how he used to depreciate Busan and fantasise about Seoul, when right now he would do anything to not be surrounded by the capital’s chaos. You truly never know what you have until it’s gone.

Jimin, being also from Busan, had offered to drive him there and go with him, but Jeongguk refused. He’s aware his best friend was just being nice, a leading characteristic of his nature, since he also knows Jimin doesn’t really enjoy being back in his city, and tries to stay away from it as much as he possibly can. The blonde had opened up once to his flatmate, admitting how home wasn’t really that for him. Seoul was his one and only occasion to escape it; he loved it here, and had finally built what felt closest to a home. The fact that Jeongguk is part of it makes his heart swell with joy.

He’s as quiet as ever while he packs the last things in his backpack and exits the flat, making sure the door isn’t shut too loud so as not to wake Jimin, who’s probably going to suffer from the worst hangover as soon as he opens his eyes. Still, the brown haired boy now wearing a baseball hat over his head shoots his friend a text to let him know he’s left the house. A cheeky Don't miss me too much :p is sent after that.

Considering he still has a significant amount of time left before the train leaves (more than he had deduced yesterday, when he had set his alarm at 5 a.m. for 7 a.m. and had gotten even less sleep than that) he picks walking to the station over taking the bus, in fear if he sits anywhere he will fall into deep slumber due to his single hour of sleep and fuck up his whole getaway plan. The walk contributes to waking his senses and shaking off the weariness, his mind finding it especially hard after the previous hours spent in the small suffocating club, swimming in the smell of alcohol and weed, and being surrounded by blasting music.

When he gets to his destination, there’s still 30 minutes left before the train arrives. He sighs while he sits on a bench by the platform, and waits. Two cigarettes later, he figures there’s nothing else he can do but put his earphones to use and play the first album in his recently played. When not even Twenty One Pilots’ Vessel can avert his eyes from batting until they’re slowly closing, Jeongguk forces himself into a staring contest with the nothingness, in hopes the illusion of having to win a fight keeps him awake. Until even then his vision starts to unfocus, and in his zoned out state he feels like passing out on that same bench.

His phone is his last resort, mindless scrolling on social media apparently the only activity capable of avoiding his mind from completely shutting down. When he gets to Instagram, rather than checking the new posts on his feed, he clicks on Dahye’s story popping up as the first one of the list. Stories are a fairly new feature to the app, but he soon came to learn how much his friend loved it, documenting every piece of her life through them. What he didn’t expect, and surely didn’t need, was her recent updates to be a rundown of Eunbi’s recovery from her drunken state last night: firstly, a close up of her baby face, with cheeks covered by smudged mascara and what looked like tears, and a pout so pronounced with furrowed eyebrows; soon after, a sneaky shot of the girl completely bent over the toilet, almost hugging it, Dahye captioning it with her new BFF!; then, an hour later, Eunbi peacefully sleeping surrounded by all sorts of pillows and plushies. Dahye ended the small series with a short apology to her roommate, adding i love u @song_eunbee hehe.

When he realises the unconscious, dumb, stupid, smile on his face, he jerks his head up and shuts his phone, violently shoving it in his sweatpants pocket. Blinking a few times, he also notices how he quite literally almost missed the train, only then registering it had stopped in front of him and was ready to depart again. Jeongguk quickly gathers his stuff and makes his way onto the train, searching for any seat that is close to a window overlooking the outside. He thinks if he can focus on the view for the rest of the ride, he’d be able to shut off the urge to go on a three hour Instagram spiral. He knows he’s so wrong when not even two minutes in, he physically can’t stop his hands from retrieving his phone and looking up song_eunbee on the app’s search bar.

He’s relieved when he clicks on the first account that pops up and finds out it’s not private. In her profile picture her face is half covered by her hand, but the dimple adorning her cheeks doesn’t hide the fact that she’s smiling. He’s welcomed by quite a few posts, varying from landscapes, friends, family, baby photos, random kittens on the streets, club nights, and some selfies. He learns she’s pretty big on Ariana Grande and that she still loves the moon, as confirmed by the crescent moon emoji being the only thing in her bio. He can’t help but foolishly wonder if looking at it at night makes her even subconsciously think of him, and the fact that he kept calling her that nickname even after her protests. A handful of the pictures on her feed portray the moon too, and one of them is captioned with Kat Stratford’s unmistakeable monologue: but mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all.

Jeongguk was right when he predicted he would be a victim of an Instagram spiral, because for the next hour he studies her posts more attentively, the people she tagged, the people in her comments, the places she visited, the quotes in her captions. He is so consumed by curiosity, and maybe something more (awfully close to envy, anger and misery) that he doesn’t even notice the sleepiness completely dissipating from his body, his mind now running to connect every single pin on the imaginary board his own brain had offered for him to better analyse her account.

Until, after being extremely careful for the entire endless minutes spent on her profile, he accidentally clicks on her story and before he can react, he’s left to stare at the picture until the 15 seconds finish. He blinks. Keeps his eyes shut for a few seconds. Reopens them. Clicks on the story again. Only one side of her face is showing, and beside it it’s her middle finger, on top of it FUCK YOU @dahye.lee96 !!!!!

He shuts off his phone and puts it on his lap, squeezing it in his hand from time to time. He takes deep breaths every one minute. Considers deleting his account, or his whole existence. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now, his eyes closing but not with the intent to sleep. He’s trying to block his flow of thoughts, unsuccessfully.

The incident haunts him for the rest of the trip, causing him to check his phone constantly and contemplating flushing it down the train’s toilet. Only when he sets foot in Busan’s station he’s able to distract himself from it. He sports a boyish smile when he sees his parents’ car parked outside, and bashfully lets himself be coddled by his mom’s praises and his dad’s content grin before driving away. He’s almost 21, most people his age feel too grown for this type of affection, but he will never deny it. That’s enough for him to stop worrying about his earlier slip. It’s still in the back of his mind, though.

Opening the door to his childhood home, he’s greeted by a fawning Gureum, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moves with it. The white Maltese has been the family dog for almost six years now, and giving him a new life after rescuing him from a shelter had cured Jeongguk’s loneliness and heartbreak; he hopes it did the same to the dog. He blocks out all kinds of noises and questions from his mom while he spends the first ten minutes in his house entertaining Gureum’s zoomies, using a sickeningly sweet tone that is only reserved for the small pet. To the point Gureum almost looks like he’s had enough of being called a good boy, feels like he can confidently reply to who’s the best boy ever? with the correct answer. Me! He just barks.

After settling his stuff and catching up with his parents on university and life in Seoul (he doesn’t mention that Eunbi is a new entry in his friend group, yet) he spends the whole morning in between naps, sleepiness eventually catching onto him. He dozes off after lunch, his tummy full and content with his mom’s cooking, which he had dearly missed, and ends up sleeping for more than intended. Next thing he knows, it’s 5 p.m. and it takes him some time to readjust to the reality surrounding him. He drags his feet to the kitchen to retrieve a snack, only to sit again, this time on the couch, Gureum finding home on his lap. The sleepyhead is close to spacing out again while munching on some Peperos, until his dad asks for help, his voice coming from upstairs.

Jeongguk finds out his most recent obsession has been decluttering, and that’s what he was called over for. His dad had collected old stuff that belonged to Jeongguk in two boxes with the intention of getting rid of it, but he still wanted to make sure there was nothing his son still needed, or valued. The boy is glad for such consideration the moment he spots his old Samsung camcorder in between worn plushies and damaged toy cars. He can’t imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t there; he figures the camera would have probably got thrown away, with his dad’s eagerness. He gets sensitive over it, entertaining a small argument with his father about it and forgetting the task he was supposed to complete, instead returning to his room to check on the camera’s contents.

Leaving the door ajar, he can still hear his dad’s faint voice calling for him and asking for truce, and even if Jeongguk’s little fit of anger is already over, he is too enthralled by the device to acknowledge any other sound around him. It had been a while since he last picked it up, not only because ever since he started university the boy had managed to afford better equipment for his short films and casual moments of inspiration, but also because what is stored in there could potentially break the thin line of sanity he has been walking on for the past weeks.

The first videos he’s met with make him chuckle, his big 10 years old eyes reflecting in his equally wide 20 years old ones, still sharing that same love for filming and blabbering on about his passions and ideas. With time, the contents captured by the camcorder changed, from video diaries of family trips and shared meals, to dramatic storytellings starring any toy that could be put to use. He can see the exact moment he began developing a bigger interest for directing, and his various attempts at finding new original shots and angles put a sweet smile on his lips.

Until, one particular clip marked an important switch, and the introduction of who soon after became the main subject for the rest of the images filmed on the device. From the moment she met him, Eunbi had been a constant presence anytime he would hit record on the camera. Their very first encounter is documented by it, when Jeongguk had forgotten to stop the recording, too startled by the sudden changes occuring right in front of his eyes; nevertheless, it resulted in a pure, authentic fragment that he’d never been able to replicate. There is no way to, the earliest smile she directed at him was captured by those lenses, and that started everything which followed.

He can spot the point in which they eventually got tired of making up stories to play out through their toys, even with the addition of Eunbi’s impressive Barbie collection. They also tried replacing the dolls with their own selves, but changing outfits and makeup for every single clip was only fun for a short while. Four episodes later, the both of them left the telenovela they had started taping unattended, and looked for a new reality to portray, even if it was always only for their own eyes and enjoyment.

Jeongguk was searching for something more simple than cliffhangers and plots. He now remembers how even his little self would always go back to that initial scene that saw them together for the first time, Eunbi’s small voice greeting the camera with the sun beginning to set behind her. He wanted his shots to be characterised by that same unadulterated, filtered feeling.

That is most probably what led him to start a documentary about their friendship, just what he had said behind the lenses while his best friend tilted her head to the side, sporting a confused look on her features, unaware of Jeongguk zooming in and out on her face (which probably got Eunbi to yell at the top of her lungs later on), “Was I unaware of you being a National Geographic reporter?”

“Are you calling yourself a beast?” Jeongguk could be heard chuckling in the microphone at Eunbi’s incredulous reaction. That was how it would always go between them, a constant back and forth to battle on who had the last word in. The girl just scoffed, clearly scrambling to find a quick reply, but only managing to roll her eyes with crossed arms and muttering something close to says you. It seemed the older one was ahead, for now.

Jeongguk grins at everything that follows next, and he tells himself it’s because he’s amused by his younger self’s manners, but it’s not like those were the main subject of his shots. He quickly comes to terms with the fact that if he wants to keep scrolling through the videos, he’d have to be constantly faced with Eunbi; there is really no way of escaping it. Jeongguk had underestimated the amount of clips portraying her, to the point the idea of a documentary seemed more like an excuse to film his friend. Make her his first muse. It was Eunbi playing, doing her hair, secretly trying on her mom’s clothes, blowing candles on her birthday cakes, revising for tests, baking Christmas cookies, coming up with friendship jingles; and everytime, she seemed so natural, as if being in front of a camera was all she was ever created for. She insisted she always wanted to be a teacher, though. He wonders if that changed.

He doesn’t know how much time he spends crouching on his desk with the recorder in his hands, but he knows it has to be hours when he gets to a close up of Eunbi’s face, her sleepy eyes and sheepish smile immediately taking him back to the night that infested his dreams hours earlier in his bed, his assumption being confirmed when he can see the sand extending behind her figure. At that point, he figures the relatively small amount of alcohol they had drank had already dissipated from their bodies, only leaving them feeling hazy, but in a good way. The wind makes it hard to decipher their slurry dialogue, and he misses the reason why Eunbi suddenly stole the camera and pointed the lenses at him. It makes him realise how little he showed himself in front of those. His timid smile probably gives out why: contrary to his friend, he wasn’t a natural. Still isn’t. He works better behind them.

He rewinds the clip a few times, curious as to what they were talking about. He can faintly hear Eunbi mention how that scenario looked so much like the drawing Jeongguk was working on that same afternoon. He doesn’t remember what it was, wishes he still had it. Then, the girl balanced the camcorder on the half empty bottle of vodka and stood, struggling to bring the older boy up with her. Now next to each other, Eunbi looked like she was instructing Jeongguk how to pose, and he figures she was trying to recreate that same doodle. She laughed hard when the boy shoved her, visibly annoyed with being moved around, more so with the girl seemingly repeating something again and again in his face. Her voice got louder, but the recording couldn’t quite catch it. From her lip movement, it looked like she was saying Put this in your movie! Put this in your movie! Jeongguk giggles. Was he already working on something? He wishes he could return to that moment to know, and maybe stay there for some more just because.

The boy is startled by sudden soft knocks on his door, jerking his head up and placing the camera on the desk, his hands sweaty from holding it for such an endless amount of time. He hums, signalling to come in, and he smiles when it’s his dad timidly peeking out and lifting his brows expectantly. Jeongguk giggles, “Dad, I forgive you.”

The older man sighs with way too much energy, exaggerating his relief and then coming to his son’s side. He smiles, ruffling his hair, “Are you hiding a girlfriend from us? This thing keeps going off,” handing him his phone, he cackles when he sees Jeongguk’s panicked expression. He must have left it on the couch earlier. And what does his dad mean with “girlfriend”? Phone going off? Does this have to do with him viewing Eunbi’s story? Is she publicly shaming h-

“Anyways. Dinner is almost ready, Gguk.” His dad pats the still alarmed boy’s shoulder and exits the room. As soon as Jeongguk hears the door close, he dashes himself on the phone and unlocks it. It keeps pinging with texts from his friends’ group chat, but there’s no new notification from Instagram. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but his relief is short lived when he comes up with another thought: was he that irrelevant to Eunbi? She didn’t even think of requesting his account? He frowns.

His initial idea was to quickly scroll over the messages as to join his family downstairs, positive it was probably just going to be either Seokjin sharing awful unfunny memes or Hoseok updating the group on the next possible catastrophe looming over human beings. He furrows his brows when, instead, he’s met with the whole group chat coming at Jimin, for no apparent reason, after his own name was mentioned.

Jiminssi, 7:48 p.m.

heeeyyy so…. ggukkie’s bday is very soon guys

Dahye, 7:50 p.m.

jimin.

Yoongi hyung, 7:50 p.m.

Park Jimin.

It’s in two weeks

Jiminssi, 7:51 p.m.

what

im just saying

its gonna be exciting!

Dahye, 7:51 p.m.

shut your mouth rn.

Joon hyung, 7:52 p.m.

Bro I thought I could trust u w this

Jeongguk is even more confused when, as he goes on reading, his friends keep brutally bullying Jimin, going as far as threatening to ban him from the next club nights out that he himself had planned. He chuckles at his friend’s misery, but soon remembers he is somewhat involved in it. He pouts, angrily typing.

Jeongguk, 7:58 p.m.

What is this about

Hobi hyung, 7:59 p.m.

baby it’s nothing

Jeongguk, 7:59 p.m.

???

Its not nothing

I wanna know

Like the baby he truly is, he keeps spamming the chat with messages to make himself noticed, until he sees Jimin’s texting bubble going on and off.

Jeongguk, 8:01 p.m.

My dear jimin what is it

I know you wanna tell me 🌀🌀🌀

Jiminssi, 8:02 p.m.

WE R GOING CAMPING FOR UR BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

The next thing displayed on his phone is an incoming group videocall from Namjoon, but Jeongguk remains still staring at himself on the screen for more seconds than necessary, registering the sequence of events that had just occurred. Camping? His birthday?

He slides to answer the call, and he giggles at the imminent chaos he’s welcomed with, all his friends throwing shade at Jimin while he just laughs along with his roommate. As all the members keep joining, he still doesn’t notice a certain someone missing.

”Was this supposed to be a surprise?” Jeongguk finds it hard to stop his laughter, both because of Jimin’s incapability at keeping secrets, but also — and mainly — because of the excitement he feels at the news just revealed to him.

”Well, duh. Jimin just had to ruin it,” It’s Dahye who replies, and Jeongguk can see the indignation on her features even in the little pixelated box she’s now displayed in. She then proceeds to entertain an argument about it with the boy she mentioned, and as everyone just listens and tries to excuse Jimin’s reasoning, Jeongguk searches for Taehyung on the screen. When he finds his eyes, he’s already wiggling his brows and the younger boy silently chuckles, mirroring his actions. It’s been a couple months since the two of them started suspecting something going on between Jimin and Dahye, even with the former always denying it. What is undeniable is the tension between them, though. It is showing right at that moment.

Jeongguk decided to intervene, having to raise the volume of his voice to be heard over the soon to be (in his and Taehyung’s opinion) lovebirds, “Guys, guys. I’m not mad. This is amazing. Thank you, really. Are we the only ones going?”

He questions just because in the last period they were often times joined by Seokjin’s girlfriend, as well as a couple of Dahye’s friends, and he genuinely enjoys their company, would be totally okay with them being present to celebrate his birthday. Seokjin himself speaks, “Sora is coming, and I think Iseul and Aera are also gonna be there. Oh, and of course-“

”Guys!” His phone tings, signalling a new person joining the videocall. It’s Eunbi. Oh. He almost didn’t consider the fact that she is most probably going to be invited too. Well, obviously. From what her camera is showing it looks like she’s outside, more specifically waiting at a bus stop, headphones on, “Sorry, I just saw the texts. Jimin, why the fuck would you do that?”

As the topic of the conversation moves once again on Jimin being awful at secrets, Jeongguk dissociates for a minute, no longer giggling along. He realises this would be the first birthday of his he shares with her by his side after years. He’s not sure how he feels about it. Can only sense a nervous sensation travelling his body, and making him feel uneasy. His furrowed brows and sudden silence don’t go unnoticed by Jimin, while on the other side Jeongguk surely doesn’t seem aware of his internal battle showing on the outside. He can’t let one person ruin his own birthday. He just has to ignore her. How hard can that be?

When he returns to the reality surrounding him again, he absent-mindedly listens to the others talk and can only distractedly pick up that the attention has been shifted to a complely different matter, Eunbi seemingly finding it funny assuming from her loud pearly smile. He frowns, his confidence wavering. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy to ignore her. Still, not wanting to dwell too much on it at that moment, leaving it for his future self to worry about, he leaves the call not before thanking his friends again. He misses Eunbi’s fond smile as the others shower their baby with praises, dismissing his gratitude with this is the least we could do for you, Ggukkie boy.

When he joins his mom and dad downstairs, it’s oddly quiet as they eat. Gureum places himself under the table and sighs, laying his head on Jeongguk’s feet. The boy can perceive the eerie atmosphere, so he asks about Gureum’s health and shows genuine interest when his dad updates him on the dog’s improvements. His mom, however, defines herself as an expert when it comes to her only son. She can spot even the tiniest change in his demeanour. Still, she knows to be delicate when asking about it, “Is everything okay, honey?”

Jeongguk stills with the fork in his mouth, looks at his mom with wide telling eyes, then nods. He hesitates, gulping down the previous bite, “Uh, my friends and I are going camping for my birthday.”

His mother smiles a big one, “That’s nice!” She seems aware something is being left out, so she inquires further, “But…?”

The questioned boy plays with his food while still munching on a big bite of it, “I guess I kinda forgot to mention it,” he starts, trying to mask his embarrassment by talking with his mouth still full. When his mom glares at him, he forces it down, “But, huh… Eunbi is in Seoul. And she’s Dahye’s roommate, so she’s coming too.”

It’s his mom’s turn to be silent. She looks like she’s taken aback, her mind working slower than usual to register a name she hasn’t heard in a long while, “Eunbi as in Song Eunbi? Our neighbour?”

Jeongguk unconsciously furrows his brows. The girl hasn’t been their neighbour for years, and never will be again. He doesn’t know why such a simple definition of her makes him feel edgy, “Yeah, our old neighbour.”

”Right… Well, that’s good, no?” Mrs. Jeon tries to lift up the atmosphere, even while knowing the mentioned girl could still be a touchy subject for the boy. When everything happened, a piece of him had been taken away with Eunbi’s sudden departure. There was seemingly no way to mend his heart, and as time went by Jeongguk closed up more and more every time his old friend was brought up, to the point she was never mentioned again, as if she had never existed. That illusion seemed to help the boy move on. His mom is not sure how her son feels about it now, but she unknowingly figures the scar has to have healed after all those years, and maybe seeing Eunbi again even brought her son to the closure he needed. When Jeongguk just nods, she hopes that is the case. His mom smiles, ”Invite her over sometimes?”

“… Yeah, mom. Huh, I will.”

[asherthehimbo]

Always Black Cats And Bitter Coffee:

Chapter 2 [part 1] : night of writing

[Next -> CHAPTER 2: part 2]

Warnings: mentions of vomiting and nightmares (very vaugly at the end), secret keeping, nothing else, I think

Word count: 2k (2473)

The bell of the Café door chimed, causing Blue to drift his eyes to the door, not wanting to stand up until the last possible moment because of the cat currently resting in his lap. Luckily for him it hadn't been a customer, not that he really expected there to be - it was 9 am on a monday and as much as students on this campus never slept and had an unhealthy coffee addiction - very few would be here this late on a monday night, especially so close to midterms.

Blue was sitting by the table in the furthest corner from the entrance, in the back right next to the counter in case an actual customer had come in. He loved his boss, he really did, but he still doesn’t understand her need to keep the Café open until 1 am. As he looked at the figure approaching him, his eyes crinkled a little - black mask that adorned his face shifting at the movement of his cheeks. He gave a welcoming smile to his friend -Chris.

Well Blue supposes most people call him Chan, but he likes Chris more. In his words it just sounded better to his ears. Chan put the laptop in his hand on top of the table, across from the books spread out in front of Blue, slipping his backpack on the back of his chair before sitting down, accepting the coffee Blue had shoved his way.

“Laptop” Blue spoke, holding his hand out expectantly. “Hello Chris. How was your day Chris? Oh it was fine and yours? That's how you start a conversation.” Chan spoke before carefully giving his laptop to Blue- moving the chair he was sitting on next to the male with a cat on his lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just kinda excited to write.” Blue let out a soft chuckle, opening the laptop, the bright screen illuminating his covered face. “ Nah, it's fine, '' Chan replied, fishing out the paper that explained the task he was supposed to complete by the end of the week. “ You do know you don’t have to help me with this, right?” Chan spoke before placing the assignment paper into Blue’s hands.

“ I know, I just need an outlet and the topic seems interesting. You know I can never give up the opportunity to write about the night. Plus it's not like I’m writing your whole essay.” Blue replied, shrugging his shoulders and taking the paper from Chan as his eyes quickly scanned over the explanation of what the essay should contain.

“Blue, we both know what happens when you help with my essays. You write way too much for the word limit, I have to edit most things out and get a perfect grade. I barely do the work so don’t discredit yourself like that.” Chan gave a knowing look to his friend as he finally sat down, moving away some of Blue’s notebooks to make room for his own. “I’m not discrediting myself, you are editing my work so technically you're still involved in the process. Plus how else are you going to stay a teacher's pet If I don’t do this.” Blue took a sip from his coffee, black coffee filled with so much sugar Chan gets cavities just looking at it, before his fingers started rapidly tapping on the keyboard. Leaving Chan all alone with his other homework before Blue told him to play some music.

Chan obliged, connecting his phone to the cafe speakers and lowering the volume so that the music would softly surround them. It was cold outside, but warm in the cafe. It was always warm in the cafe, whether that be because of the cats, the steam of the hot drinks served or just the amount of people that always ruffle in and out, Chan honestly didn't know which one.

The two seniors stayed in this silence, Chan working on other assignments or songs while Blue sat typing at the keys on his laptop. Only sign that he was aware of his surroundings and not completely consumed into his writing was the way his leg would bounce along with whatever beat was playing ( the cat, Sock’s if Chan remembered correctly, had left Blue’s lap a long time ago.)

Their routine only being interrupted when a customer would enter, looking like the walking dead and eyes lighting up when seeing Blue. Chan would always laugh at that. The students in this place seemed to think Blue was their savior, it had been understandable really. Blue was their closest and cheapest source of good coffee when it came to late night and they needed the caffeine to stay awake and finish whatever project they forgot about.

Chan had finished all his work a while ago, now going through Blue’s laptop while the other male was still busy on his. He had been going through the tracks Blue had composed for his class. The Blue haired male asked for his help to edit some parts and choose which song to give to their teacher for the monthly review.

The food Chris brough had been long gone, and it had been 1 am when Blue finally took their attention away from the screen. Eyes hurting from staring at it for hours. “Done?” Chan asked softly, looking at the way Blue was rubbing his eyes. “Hm, for now. I wrote enough but I haven't edited it or read it over yet.” Blue replied standing up and stretching before walking to the cafe doors, turning the ‘open’ sign around so that it would say closed. “ That's fine, I can do that, I need to at least do some things for my own essay.” Chan says with a laugh.

“True, could you just clean up the table please? I need to go check that the cats are asleep and they have enough water and things, then go check on some things for tomorrow before closing up the back.” Blue asked Chan while walking behind the counter, waiting for Chan’s “yeah sure” before disappearing into the rooms where the cats were kept at night. There were 5 cats in total, not including Blue’s own cat that would be going home with them.

Blue’s cat, called Bluestar after some character in a book series Blue read when he was young. The cat would always come with Blue to the cafe and then go home with him. About 20 minutes later both men had finished their tasks, Blue walking out of the back with his cat in his cage. Chan stood by the door waiting for Blue so that they could walk back to their dorms. “ Food and walk or home?” Chan asked. Blue’s eyes absolutely light up at the mention of food and a nighttime stroll, Chan swears sometimes that the male was more dog than cat.

“Food and walk” Blue said, both males walked out of the cafe after Blue made his final run down that everything was closed. He took his backpack from Chan and started walking, cat cage still in hand. “Although could we drop Bluestar off first? I don’t wanna walk around with him, he’s gonna get fussy because of the cold.” Blue asked Chan. “Sure”, the shorter male responded before continuing to walk to Blue’s dorm.

After a few moments of silence Chan decided to speak up, asking the question that's been bugging him since this morning “Are you okay? With the whole thing on friday? If you aren't comfortable with it we could figure something else out.”

“Chris, I would've said something if I wasn't okay with it. Plus it's like 70% of our grade. If I wasn't okay I would just suck it up” Blue replied.

“Blue that's not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Chris, it's been two years, please don’t bring this up.” Blue sounded tired saying it, as if he had to repeat the same thing over and over. Despite the dread in his stomach. Chan understood, he guessed it should've become tiring having to reassure people about the same thing over and over again.

“Blue listen I get you don’t want to talk about it, trust me I do. But it’s different now, the charges were dropped on lack of evidence. She’s free. You can’t blame me for worrying. Especially since you haven't even told any of the others. I just want to make sure you understand the dangerousness of this situation.” Chan’s voice sounded almost like he was pleading.

“Chris, I wouldn't have told anyone about her release, the only reason you and the babies know is because you were there when I got the call. I don’t blame you for worrying, I appreciate it, I really do. But it's not necessary, okay? I understand better than anyone how dangerous it can be. But I’m not going to let that stop me from living my life. Plus me telling the boys would only make this bigger than it is.”

Chan wanted to scream at Blue that, it was a big situation, it was a huge and dangerous situation. But he stayed silent the rest of the walk. He wouldn't disrespect Blue’s wishes of not telling their other friends at KQ, he knew the babies wouldn't either. He just hopes nothing bad happens. He knows it's fruitless, something bad is definitely going to happen, but Chan would like to live in denial a little longer.

They had walked slower than they realized because once they reached the Dorms it was 02:30 am. Meaning the store they would have gone to get snacks and walk to would be closed.

“Raincheck?” Blue asked while they were walking to his dorm, Chan’s dorm was only a few rows down so he would have walked past Blue’s anyway. Perfect excuse to walk them home and make sure that no sneaky pink haired girl would jump his friend. Definitely.

When Blue opened his dorm door and bid Chan goodbye, he didn't know what to expect, but seeing his two underclassmen cuddle up on the couch that they had positioned to look at the door was definitely not it. He put Bluestar down, letting the cat out of its cage as it immediately started walking towards Blue’s room.

Blue got an extra blanket and threw it over his two friends before silently shuffling off to his room. Taking off his mask and completing his nighttime routine before walking out to the kitchen located in their dorm. He would've just made something for himself, but knowing Seungmins nose when it came to food, he got out enough ramen for the three of them. Now you can’t judge Blue for this, it was the only thing he knew how to make, and he made it damn well if you would have asked him.

When the food was finished and he set it on the table, he heard a crash from where his friends were located on the couch. He looked at them, tangled in the blankets desperately trying to get away from one another while muttering curses. Seungmin was up first, after regaining his composure his face immediately went to the food on the table. “Well good morning to you,” Blue said laughing as I.N stood behind Seungmin, face confused and hair sticking every witch way.

“Why exactly were you two cuddled up on a moved couch in front of the door?” Blue asked, going to sit down while the two younger ones followed in suit. “We were waiting for you” I.N said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. Then Seungmin slapped him upside the head for exposing his cover. “I told you guys not to do that, I don't have early classes tomorrow, you do. You needed to sleep” Blue told the two.

“We know it's just….” Seungmin's voice died down as he shoved ramen in his mouth, an excuse to not talk. “You two are worried about Sani too? I just had this conversation with Chris. Everything is fine guys.” Blue said exasperated. He hated being worried over like a toddler.

“Everything will be fine once you tell Mingi-Huyng. Until then I am camping in front of that door when you work night shifts.” Seungmin said. I.N gave a small “Me too” while his mouth was still full of noodles. Usually Blue would fight on this, but honestly he didn't have the power for that right now. He also knew he would lose. He knew how serious this actually was but living in denial was better than actually having to face the truth of her possibly coming back.

Who was Blue kidding, she was back. His priv doesn't follow her for nothing. It's honestly only a race against time on who finds who first. Her finding him, or his friends at KQ finding her. He honestly didn't know which option was better. Finishing in silence and then going to his room, his underclassmen going into theirs, he couldn't stop the anxiety building in his stomach.

Why did it have to be now, and why did it have to be brought up in every conversation. He just hoped that this showcase thing would keep all his friends busy. He could find a way to deal with Sani on his own. Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully.

With a stomach full of food and anxiety, Blue went to bed, preparing himself for the nightmares and puking that would follow. They had started up again last week, when he got the call.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Minho woke up exactly 10 minutes before his alarm, bolting to the bathroom and releasing his dinner from the previous night. He hated this. They had gotten better, he knew they had. So why did it start again? Why did he wake up in a cold sweat, scared out of his mind sometimes even nauseous too.

He wanted to scream at whoever invented soulmates, really. What was the point in him having a constant link with his soulmates emotions, even being able to feel them if he was in a deep enough sleep, if he wasn't able to do anything.

They were getting better goddamnit. He knew they were, he had seen a few times when the color of the heart would change to yellow. He knew they were getting better, he had been ecstatic about it, because it broke him when they were down and he couldn't do anything. So why. Why did the nightmares have to come back, why did he have to wake up to a heart as white as the face of a ghost.

Why did his soulmate have to go through all this? Why couldn't he just find them? Why couldn't he just protect them from whatever caused this reaction? Why did fate have to be so cruel?

Abc×2 masterlist | Soulbound masterlist | Stray kids masterlist

Taglist: @i-dont-know-me-either

[uhohbestie]

I really love you guys art and writing!

Can I get nice advice for writing in general or for writing arguments? I’m kinda stuck on that part and I really enjoy you guys writing!

Heyy, thank you so much! 💫 ;w; We love getting messages like this, it's such a mood booster! (Lock: literally I sent this to Key last night and was like "I'M SO EXCITED TO ANSWER THIS" lmao)

We raaaaaambled, so Writing Advice is beneath the cut :3

As for writing advice, in general and specific both, I think a key component is to really get into your characters' heads. I like to think of it a bit like acting--when you write, you're not just someone keeping a record of events that have occurred, you're the actor playing every role on stage. You should know the characters you're trying to pen inside and out; what makes them happy and sad, what makes them frustrated and angry, what scares them and what they aspire to. Or, more simply put, you have to filter a character down to what makes them tick. Give them a Fear, give them a Motive, give them things that drive them to push forward, and things that hold them back. Above all, make sure that you know how those things for one character are different from another, because that's where the conflict arises.

Which brings us to arguments! It's easy to just write angry words and cussing or insults but, while those might add to an argument, substance is what's important. Even in real life, arguments happen because two people strongly Believe In Something. Whether that's some huge disconnect between morals and lifestyles or just a simple "I'm right and they're wrong." So give your characters a clear Belief about the topic they're fighting about, and then lean into your "actor" role and pull up how they feel in detail. And I'm not talking 'I feel upset' or 'I feel mad,' I mean how honest do they feel they should be while fighting? Are they passive aggressive? Are they holding back their words? Are they deliberately trying to make things worse? Are things falling out of their control and they just don't know how to stop?

Really embody the character you're writing--if you were them what would you do to hide/protect/fight for something? What are your limits? How low are you willing to go?

And then, after you've got that substance--the meat, if you will--of the argument down, everything else is just embellishment! So go crazy with descriptions! How do their voices sound? How hot do their bodies go? Are their faces flushed? Is someone angry crying? Is their heart racing? Do they feel like they're going to vomit?

Describe in and around them and really make the reader feel immersed in the scene, like if they try, they could feel all the same things your characters could.

Annnd, that's all I got 😂 I'm sure there's plenty more advice out there that's more specific than mine, but that's generally how my thought process works so there you have it hehehe

I hope you're able to find something worth implementing within it, and good luck with your writing!! 💜

(Lock here chiming in to say: editing is good! read what you wrote out loud to yourself (if possible). Find what you like to write (I love to write people talking about their feelings, especially when they get emotional!) and dig in shamelessly, even if it feels like overkill! A good piece of advice I got once was to think of writing like getting dressed to go out: put everything on, and then remove one thing. I don't know why, but that really clicked for me. ALSO, when you edit: never delete anything. Copy out the parts you're removing and save them in a different file, you never know when the scene/conversation/exchange that didn't fit that moment will suddenly find a home several pages later.

A big thing I always try to keep in mind while writing is: every character thinks they're right, even (especially) when they're 100% wrong. Not even to a villain degree-- everyone every day is thinking "I'm doing my best." (Which is what makes catastrophic mistakes or miscommunications even worse!)

Also, when writing arguments or conflict: never be afraid to let your characters sit in their feelings and be miserable for a while. A lot of things in life take a long time to work themselves out, and sometimes a character needs to go to bed angry, or go no-contact for a week, or take a five year break where they completely reinvent themselves before things are ever properly resolved.

Also good luck and have fun <3 writing is fun )

[the-head-ancho-chilli]

Kyojuro General Headcannons

Sorry for the inactivity, I only just got settled into my uni dorm yesterday so I was super busy. Struggled to keep this general for him bc I am absolutely down bad for this man. Enjoy ^^

Word count: 900~

Everyone knows that Kyojuro is a foodie but rarely does anyone consider the actual ramifications behind that

First of all, not only does he know the best food in town, but he knows how to get as much bang for your buck

Can and will pull you away from the main marketplace and lead you to a small store where they serve better okonomiyaki for the same price as the one in the main market

Secondly, he hates coffee

This dude is already energetic as fuck, he doesn’t need extra caffeine

Kyojuro once drank coffee because Mitsuri bought it for him (he was too nice to say no)

Next thing everyone knew, Kyojuro finished three piles of paperwork, cleaned the entire house, built a new shed in the yard, and fixed the neighbour's fence

Third, he is one of the BEST people to eat with

Do you eat too quickly or slowly? He won't judge at all!

Stuffing your cheeks while you munch on your food happily? He thinks it cute!

Eating your food in a particular order? Won't ever disturb you about it!

Kyojuro knows better than anyone that people can get insecure by their eating habits, which is why he does all he can to let everyone eat comfortably

Truly values that everyone should eat because food is fuel and how important it is to enjoy how or what you eat

Food is his love language

The one thing Kyojuro won't stand is if you hold cutlery weird

If you grip your utensils with a whole fucking fist he might actually get up and walk away

He can't STAND that shit

While on the topic of insecurities, Kyojuro has some of his own

He won’t show it but Kyojuro’s self conscious about how visible his excitement is

Kyojuro’s smile is 98% of the time genuine, but he tries to give off the impression that people staring at him isn’t bothering at all

The stares he gets from talking, eating, or simply existing in public with his winning smile and his eye-catching clothing makes him feel exposed

Mainly because he knows that a decent portion of the people don’t have good intentions with their constant gaze

Kyojuro doesn't like talking about it because he doesn't want to change; he loves himself the way he is

He just wished that others were more understanding

On a more wholesome note, due to how long Kyojuro and Tengen have been friends, they both keep secrets from you

They say it's for a good reason and you believed them, until you found out that one of those secrets is that Kyojuro knows how to breakdance

"That was so long ago! I have not practised in so long that I fear I may injure others or myself... Perhaps another time?"

He is kinda embarrassed about it, mainly because he has a slight case of performance anxiety

Which speaking about performances, Kyojuro LOVES the performing arts

Theatre, films, dance, music, fights and battles, you name it

Kyojuro is always to find the beauty and appreciation for them, and they always get his blood pumping

But he's also a history nerd, don't get me wrong

"I have learned something new today! Would you like to hear about the empty fort battle strategy? I have found a tale of it in this book, it's quite clever!"

Kyojuro loves learning about new things, and sometimes just needs to vomit info about his favourite interests

Though it goes without saying that Kyojuro would without a doubt do the same thing, so feel free to ramble about what you like as well!

He thinks its entertaining just listening to you and he will be sure to ask you questions

Seeing you happy makes him happy :)

But even a well rounded guy like Kyojuro has his own weaknesses

You would think you couldn't trust him with foods, but it's actually the opposite since he really respects food and eating as a whole

Actually you can't trust him to do operate any mode of transportation

Do not let him in the driver's seat

Keep him away from the captain's wheel on a boat

And do NOT let him ride a horse without you or a trusted adult holding the reigns

It's not because he looses direction of where he's going, what really causes an issue here is how his kindness and his passion are visibly fighting for control in his mind

Either you're sitting there for so long because he keeps letting people pass even if he has the right of way, or he goes into reckless abandon and just put on a GO GO GO attitude

"ONWARDS! We have places to be and things to do!" "Kyojuro, we are going to crash soon if you keep this up!"

Passenger Prince (for everyone's safety)

To wrap this up, Kyojuro's actual love language is quality time spent

As an extrovert, he will try and do everything to do things together if it means passing time with you

"Are you going to the grocery store? I shall accompany you! We are running low on snacks anyways"

Kyojuro can't help but insist on carrying your groceries home (and maybe try to pay for them too)

Overall, Kyojuro is an absolute delight to have around but he has his own struggles too

Please be gentle with him :)

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Hey everyone! I had this in my drafts for so long because tumblr decided to delete my progress last week and I was too frustrated to rewrite this all T_T

Another reminder that my inbox is open and I would really love some requests to work on! Please read my request info before submitting anything ^^

[ghostofstudentspast]

Sunshine

This one was requested by my lovely mutual @wifi--witch who's been here since the start! Hopefully it's what you wanted (also it’s written in Neville’s perspective for a change which was fun!) - June x

When Neville bumps into the nicest girl he's ever had the pleasure of knowing, he's baffled to find out the truth about her house!

Word count: 1500 ish Warnings: None! It's a fluffy feel good fic x

Wandering through Diagon Alley the week before returning to Hogwarts was one of Neville's favourite things. Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley walked beside him pratteling on about anything and everything as the trio browsed for their school supplies and little treats. The summer sun was shining down on them and eerything felt right in Neville's world. Until... "Oof-" Neville felt all of the air being knocked out of his lungs as someone smacked into him.

In front of him stood the most beatiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. Your hair shone brightly under the sun and your eyes, which were wide with concern, he could have drowned in.

"Oh jeez, I am so sorry!" the girl in front of him looked up with concern, "I was just completely in my own world," you crouched down to pick up the bag Neville had dropped in shock.

"N-no, I-that's okay, I wasn't paying attention either," Neville managed to get out as you handed him the bag, hands briefly grazing against each other.

"Call it even then?" Her eyes sparkled with mirth as you held out her hand for him to shake, "I'm Y/N, by the way!" 

"Neville,” he took your soft hand in his own and the smile that broke out on your face was mesmirizing.

She smiles like sunshine, he thought.

“It was really nice to meet you Neville but I am already so late and I’d rather not be chewed out by my mother so I have to run!” you grinned up at him, “see you around Hogwarts?” you questioned

“Y-yeah, see you,” he trailed off as you bounded past him, hair flying behind you as you narrowly dodged a few more strangers.

He quickly rushed to catch up with his friends again who had stopped a few meters down the cobblestone street. Ginny was feigning interest in the book store they’d stopped in front of while Luna stared blatently at her friend.

“She was pretty,” Luna observed serenely.

“Yeah, I suppose she was,” Nevilles ears burned and he feared he may be as red as Ginny’s hair. The redhead in question was pressing her lips together to control the laughter he knew would soon come spilling out.

“I think you would make very attractive babies,” Luna said very seriously. Ginny lost it at this and Nevilles face only felt hotter.

“She���s not a Gryffindor is she?” He voiced after his friends had calmed down and started walking again.

“Nah, would’ve recognized her!” Ginny shook her head.

“She’s not in Ravenclaw either,” Luna chimed in as she strolled past a pet store and admired the lizards. “Lot of Nargles following her,” Luna shook her head sadly as if that explained everything. _______________________________

The first few weeks back at school went off without a hitch. No drama, no teachers yelling at him (yet) and best of all double block Herbology.Yet even surrounded by his friends, Neville found himself craning his head at mealtimes looking for a Y/H/C head of hair and that bright smile that haunted his dreams.

So when you strode into his Herbology class a week late, sporting an apologetic look he was all the more intruiged. You stopped at Professor Sprout to have an animated conversation and she offered a sympathetic smile.

“Who shows up a week late to Hogwarts,” Hermione sniffed from beside him where they were working at the same station.

“Y/L/N that’s who,” Lavender Brown hissed across the table shaking her head, “Her parents have donated as much money to this place as the Malfoys, maybe even more.”

Hermione huffed at this and returned to work but Neville’s eyes were glued to the back of your head. When you spun around to stride towards the empty spot across the room his eyes caught the glint of a silver and green tie perfectly knotted on your chest.

“She’s in Slytherin?” He voiced out loud to no one in particular as the Slytherin in question waltzed over to Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson with a wide grin, embracing them both.

“Duh,” Lavender rolled her eyes with a snort of laughter. As if he was meant to have known.

Neville must have been burning a hole in your head because your gaze snapped up to meet his, his ears turning red once again. Your lips spread into a wide smile as you offered him an excited little wave. Daphne whispered something in your ear at this and you smacked her on the arm good naturedly in response, attention diverted from him once more.

There was just no way that you could be THAT nice and in Slytherin of all houses.

________________________________________________________

No matter what he did, the rest of the day you occupied Neville’s mind. Your beautiful smile and that stupid green tie. He knew he should just shrug off this little crush he had on you and move on with his day becaue there was no way you would be into a Gryffindor right? Let alone Neville. 

Taking up a table in the back of the library he got to work on some of his more recent homework. Saving Herbology for last, he knew everything else would be abandonded once he got to the project Professor Sprout had assigned.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the castle for you,” a voice interrupted his train of thought, “Let me tell you, it is not easy to find one boy in this place. So many hiding places and you were in the library the whole time,” you rambled on as Neville stared at you with wide eyes.

“Me? You were looking for me?” His eyebrows were probably in his hairline by now.

“Yeah! Professor Sprout told me I should ask you to catch me up on the week of work I missed,” you smiled and sat down across the table from him. He felt a sneaking sense of dissapointment, of course it was about school. “She says you’re the most gifted herbologist in the year!”

Neville felt the urge to shrink back at the compliment and pulled out his Herbology notes silently to have something to do. He slid them across the table towards you with a small awkward smile.

“Oh, thank you, but I was actually hoping you could talk me through everything,” You slid the parchment back to him, “I wouldn’t want to just copy your notes, that feels wrong.”

“Oh,” Neville cleared his throat and tried to find words. Any words. “Well-um, yeah, I can do that,” He pulled his notes toward himself and looked over the topics quickly. “We started with the properties of Aconite and how it relates to the wolfsbane potion, since we’ll be covering that in Potions this term...”

Once Neville was on a roll about Herbology it was hard to slow him down. He kept rattling off facts he found interesting and pertinent to the class and was only encouraged when you slid your chair closer to him to read along with his notes over his shoulder.

“And then this week, I’m sure you already know, We’re covering Venomous Tentacula’s which means it’s going to be one hell of a double block,” he chuckled to himself and turned to look at you, only to find you already staring at him with interest. He had to swallow the lump in his throat as his cheeks flushed. You were closer than he’d thought.

“Sprout wasn’t kidding! You’re like some sort of Herbology prodigy,” You grinned and Neville’s blush only darkened at the compliment. “No chance you’d wanna be my partner for the upcoming project would you?” You almost seemed shy asking.

“Oh, um...yeah, I could, I mean yeah that’d be nice,” Neville managed to stutter out.

“Oh good,” you sighed in relief and relaxed against your chair, “I mean I really need all the help I can get in this class.” You let out a light laugh.

And there was that sinking dissapointment again. He had to remind himself you were here for help, not because you liked him.

“Plus, I mean, you seem really sweet,” You smiled over to him hesitantly, “I think I could really like you.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked away quickly, a blush of your own creeping onto your face.

“Y-you’re really sweet too,” Neville said finally, finding his voice again, “um the Hogsmeade weekend in a few weeks..would you want to go? With me I mean...as a date?” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He was almost regretting the word vomit when you turned your brillaint smile to him. He relaxed immediately and couldn’t help smile back at you.

“I would love to,” you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly, “Thank you for asking,” You smiled and sat back in your seat. “Oh shoot I have to go!” You sprang up.

“See you tomorrow?” Neville asked hesitantly.

You nodded quickly, “Meet me here after lunch,” You smiled and turned to leave “See you tomorrow Neville!” You called over your shoulder as Madamme Pinch shushed you on your way out.

A date. Nevilled grinned and leaned back in his chair. He’d asked you on a date and you’d said yes. The girl who smiled like sunshine.

[calaofnoldor]

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @moosewinchester​ @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @jotink78​ @winifrede​ @writingforthelonelysoul​

TEAM SQUIRREL: @deanwinchesterswitch​ @deandaydreaming​

[harryspet]

good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later 

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world. 

word count: 4.2k

main masterlist

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone​ @buckysugar​ @yanderepeterparker​ @ttqueen05​ @belleknows​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sad-ed-noise​ @quaksonhehe​

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code. 

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees. 

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep. 

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives. 

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over. 

+

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt. 

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here. 

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him. 

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms. 

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply. 

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal. 

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned. 

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you. 

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command. 

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain. 

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed. 

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class. 

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk. 

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

+

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down. 

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you. 

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic. 

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away. 

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time. 

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner. 

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely. 

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side. 

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

+

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies. 

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress. 

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge. 

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him. 

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter. 

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had. 

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them. 

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at. 

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves. 

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered. 

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly. 

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group. 

A flask. 

+

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path. 

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again. 

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips. 

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water. 

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you. 

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply. 

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was. 

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response. 

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day. 

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips. 

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment. 

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class. 

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. 

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time. 

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair. 

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling. 

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin. 

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch. 

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught. 

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you. 

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually. 

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you. 

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees. 

+

part two

[narrators-journal]

The great escape

oh boy oh boy, it’s here! The sequelette! For those who don’t know, this is a small follow up to my story ‘Inquisitive obsessions’ So if you want the full story, go read that first. This one won’t be overtly Yandere, but I still hope you guys have fun with it.

CW: lotsa pregnancy talk in this one. I’m not that knowledgeable of the topic, so likely gonna have some shoddy parts.

Ever since you had met Illumi, your life had changed forever. You didn't notice it at first, too caught up in being in a relationship to remember seeing him lurking outside your house after a date, or to remember the pair of underwear you'd randomly lost despite seeing them on your bathroom floor right before you went to bed that night. It was only after that brightly colored, card-slinging maniac, who you later found out was named Hisoka, murdered the butlers Illumi had set as your prison guards and then tried to 'introduce himself to you' as if he hadn't just slaughtered other humans like cattle that it finally really set in how deep of trouble you were in. Luckily, you had run to the bathroom as if to throw up and then slipped out of your bathroom window to run for help. Unluckily, Illumi was swift to find you. After that, the 'honeymoon phase' violently ended.

Of course, after kidnapping getting you safely to his family home, Illumi didn't explain anything you asked him about, your life couldn't be that easy, but you had your suspicions that a lot of the weird occurrences you'd been faced with before properly meeting him could be placed at his feet. However, you were in no place to investigate or try to escape. You were taken to the main house, situated in Illumi's bedroom, and almost never alone after that. If Illumi wasn't showering you with gifts, compliments, and cuddles, his mother was eager to befriend you, snatching you up from the halls at the rare times you were permitted to walk the home alone to have tea and tell you all about her plans for you and her son's marriage, or the baby. You hated it, and you were noticeably miserable.

Because of that, Illumi did his best to make you happy, distracting you with talk of baby names, wedding details, your hobbies, anything he could think of to try and make you happy. And it would work for a while, you'd get swept up in his charms and melt into his touch when he cuddled up to you at night, but not too long after, you'd crash again. You'd given up on trying to escape, you'd been driven up to the estate, so you knew how big the mountain was and just how hopelessly trapped you really were, but you would still sob, smack and try to hit the long-haired assassin, and just try to get away from him, even though he never let you leave his sight for fear of 'the baby being harmed.

' As the days passed, you did eventually settle into your predicament, though there was always an intense urge to run if you got the chance. You played along with Kikyo, let Illumi love on you and be excited for the baby, and learned how to not only cope with the fear you now felt towards your 'fiance,' but avoid the brunt of Illumi's manipulative powers, mostly by avoiding looking into his dark, soulless eyes, which would leave you groggy and with static for thoughts. He wasn't a fan of that, but he remained unreadable and cold, never laying a hand on you or showing aggression towards you to avoid stressing you out. He treated you like the world's most fragile porcelain doll because of your pregnancy. That one odd behavior at least got explained though, so that was progress.          "I'm very well trained to fight, so I'm very strong. You...are very much so not." It wasn't much, but considering the most you'd gotten out of him when you'd tried to question him before was some form of topic change, you took it. Either way though, you were thankful that he treated you so delicately, because you didn't want to think of the possible alternatives. On the bright side though, your reluctant acceptance did open up more freedoms to you. Mainly, it was the freedom to talk to a single person outside of the Zoldyck family when Illumi was off on jobs, but once he was home that freedom was taken away again. Thankfully though, that wasn't your only freedom, you also got to go along with a butler to shop in town. Of course, Illumi or Kikyo came with, hovering protectively nearby while you walked the town's shops, getting exercise and socialization under the watchful eye of your fiance or karen-like mother-in-law. Illumi usually spent your time out trailing behind you like a ghost, helping when he felt you couldn't do something alone, but otherwise leaving you to do whatever you needed while always feeling his eyes on you. At the very least, you could somewhat ignore him and maybe even...pretend to be normal while he was being protective, unlike his mother, who would never leave you alone when out, and was all around demanding and very hard to miss. It was a brief reprieve from the insanity, but it was welcome. However, that was just it. A brief escape. Whenever you returned to the car you were reminded that you really had been snatched from your home by your boyfriend and pushed into a marriage you didn't want. Finally though, on a particularly cold late-winter night almost three months after your engagement, as you laid in bed with Illumi, staring at the wall with his arm wrapped securely around your midsection and his forehead resting between your shoulder blades, you decided to try a pretty risky ask. You didn't expect him to agree, but you couldn't deal with him lingering around you anymore. It was worth a shot.          "I-Illumi," you croaked, your voice quiet and almost strangled with anxiety and fear, but you forced yourself onwards after he hummed in acknowledgement, "Tomorrow, could I maybe go out alone? O-or at least only with a butler?" you squeaked, your stomach twisting with nerves as you waited the excruciatingly long moments it took for him to ponder your request and reply with no sign to give away his feelings.          "Why?" He asked, and you were really missing the days where he put feeling into his words. His monotonous, unreadable voice gave you anxiety.         "I..." You took a deep breath to steady your quivering voice, deciding honesty was safest, "I'm still scared of you after you got so aggressive when I told you I was pregnant, and...um, y-your mom is...kinda smothering." Your voice died with each word after 'and', but he still heard you. There was another stretch of silence before he hummed,         "Fine, but if you misbehave in any way on this trip, you won't leave the house for the rest of your pregnancy." He warned, and you didn't need him to emote to know he was deathly serious, so you simply nodded and thanked him before curling up and trying your best to sleep. When morning came, you were sure to be on your best behavior while Illumi arranged a butler to take you into town. You'd only get an hour to do whatever you wanted, but it was maybe your only chance to leave the mountain without the manipulative predator who called himself your fiance breathing down your neck. So, when it finally came time for you to leave, you gave the assassin a kiss on the cheek before you left. With that, you had a long car ride with no looming threat or awkward, prying conversations, just peace, quiet, and a lovely view of trees drifting by outside of the car window along the way. It ended up being so peaceful, that you fell asleep for most of the ride, only waking when the driver hit a bump in the road and jolted you out of your dreams and into a slightly panicked state. Instantly putting you on edge as you expected to be faced with Illumi beside you, watching you blankly, or your mother-in-law trying to feel the small bump beginning to show on your belly for the umpteenth time that day. But, when you opened your (e/c) eyes and gave a frantic scan of the backseat, neither were there. You're safe. They're back at the estate. You told yourself, taking a few deep breaths to slow your thundering heart. You finally had no murderous assassin of any sort nearby. You were 2 hours away from the estate, a total of at least 4 from the main house. You soon realized, you could run. Do you really want to live life in terror? Being used as a broodmare and watching your baby be turned into a small Illumi? The braver, more realistic voice in your head whispered while you watched trees zoom by through the car window, but he's a dangerous man. He found you when you ran the first time, do you think you could get away a second time? And STAY away? the more fearful inner voice piped up, but at the thought of possibly being free that first voice won out. Because of that, you knew in an instant that you were already at a point of no return if you even began this path, but you were also determined to not be trapped in a fearful marriage, watching your child suffer. So, you curled up and covertly unlaced your shoe lace, a small luxury you'd gotten to sooth one of your earlier melt downs about being trapped in such a restrictive relationship, than, you struck. In a flash, you coiled the lace around your hands and looped it over the driver's seat and the butler's throat. You put your foot against the back of the seat and felt hot tears burn your eyes in both terror and instant regret as the car skidded to a halt so the butler could try to fight for his life. However, while the help had been trained to be demons in their own right, you somehow managed to overpower his frantic attempts to free himself with your own frantic, shakey, teary-eyed strength. You were hysterical as you did it, but you  successfully strangled the poor butler after an excruciatingly long time.          "ohgodimsosorry," you wept as you scrambled to the front seat and pushed the body out onto the deserted road, fighting the urge to vomit just yet as you took his place. You then had to scrub your eyes three times before your vision was clear enough for you to drive, but even after calming down a bit, your breaths were still raking through your chest, and you could already feel a headache coming from the intensity of your sobs as you drove into the town and repeatedly plead for forgiveness for the murder. However, when you found a bus stop, you scraped up your composure and did your best to hide just how distraught you were. Luckily, the clerk was an angel, getting you a ticket for free when they saw just how dishevelled and snivelling you were, deducing correctly that you needed help and doing their best to assist. So, you got a cup of water and clutched your ticket like a child protecting their lollipop from a greedy sibling, settled inside and out of view to await the bus and calm down. That was when you got the call. The phone ringing sent an icy hot bolt of primal terror through your body, but you bit that back and went ahead and answered it with shaking hands, (e/c) eyes blurring with tears again when you heard the sickly familiar indifferent voice on the other end of the line,           "(y/n)," Illumi said, not even sounding pissed, just slightly bored, as if he'd expected this. "I understand you are scared about all of the changes and are somewhat sensitive right now, but I cannot let you leave. Please return home before I have to come collect you." Just like that, the rabid courage that gave you that first push of determination was wiped away like a leaf in a tornado. After all, it was so much easier to make an escape when Illumi wasn't looming over you, but now that he was talking to you, knowing damned well what you were up to, you had the powerful urge to burst into tears and drive back to the Zoldyck estate. No! This is the exact reason you were such easy prey for him in the first place! that courageous voice pointed out, essentially slapping some sense into you as you swallowed your sobs and those submissive urges, this is your one chance! if you go back, he's never going to leave you alone for a SECOND. Run! This is your only chance! With that last point, you gulped down breaths, steeling your nerves before speaking at last          "No." You croaked, your voice barely a whisper, but you still sensed the switch in Illumi's mood when he heard,              "(y/n). Come home. Right. Now. You won't like it if I have to come and get you." he said, his voice finally changing from flat and bored, to dripping with a threat as his mask cracked and his anger slipped through so clearly you could almost feel him grabbing you by the throat, but you saw your bus beginning to load, so you had to make a snap judgement as quickly as Illumi's emotional outburst passed and he returned to indifference.             "Listen, I'm trying my best to not be terrifying or anything, but I'd be a horrible hu-" You hung up on him and tossed the phone out of the window once you'd gotten onto the bus and it had begun the journey down the road. Something about that single, simple action felt more like throwing one of your shackles out of the window instead of a phone.

[sneezyminniejo]

Hii! Can I request a sickfic where Stray Kids are on tour in Japan and Hyunjin get a stomach bug? Thank you..

Here it is, hope you enjoy,

TW emeto

Hotel Mess

The Stray Kids members were currently in Japan for the last leg of their world tour. They had already done two concerts here and had one more scheduled for tonight and one for tomorrow night before heading back home. They were all still extremely excited and pumped for their concerts. Well all except for one member.

Hyunjin had woken up feeling like absolute shit. He had a headache, he felt both hot and cold, and his stomach was churning uncomfortably. He wasn't entirely sure how or where since he was really only ever around his fellow members, but it was clear he somehow caught a stomach bug.

Hyunjun knew that he needed to tell someone he was sick, but wasn't sure how to broach the topic. Mainly because Jisung's anxiety was flaring up a bit and he didn't want to make everyone more stressed.

However, Hyunjin didn't have to debate whether or not he should hide his illness, because as soon as he stood up he became extremely dizzy while his stomach lurched violently.

He did his best to stagger his way to the bathroom of his room, but didn't quite make it.

Before he could even reach the halfway mark to the bathroom, Hyunjun bent forward and gagged. A split second later a round of sick was making its appearance on the carpet of the hotel room. He dry heaved a couple of times after he finished puking then sat down next to the puddle, any energy he'd had previously, now depleted entirely.

Jisung, who had been in the bathroom brushing his teeth, had heard some kind of commotion coming from his roommate and fellow 2000 liner, but wasn't entirely sure what it was. He spit the toothpaste into the sink, rinsed his mouth, then left the bathroom to investigate.

What he found was Hyunjin sitting on the floor in between the two beds with a puddle of vomit next to him. He quickly hurried over to him and placed his hand on the older's forehead, not the slightest bit surprised to find him feverish.

"Jinnie, you feeling okay?" He asked his sick hyung. Hyunjin groaned while shaking his head while holding his abdomen. "Do you need help getting to the bathroom?" Jisung asked, not quite sure what all he could do, but gently helped Hyunjun to his feet when he nodded.

Jisung safely got Hyunjin situated in front of the toilet just in time to watch him begin puking again. Jisung watched his hyung empty the contents of his stomach for a good minute before helping him rest against the bathtub when he finished.

“Aish hyung, you aren’t in any condition for the concert tonight. I need to tell Chan hyung and figure out how to get the carpet cleaned.” Jisung was primarily thinking out loud, but Hyunjin heard every word and was in no condition to argue. As much as he’d like to argue about telling Chan he can’t perform, the room was spinning and there were two Jisungs. Hyunjin just wanted to go back to bed.

Jisung momentarily left the bathroom to go digging in his suitcase for the thermometer that he knew was in there. Chan always made sure that at least one member per rooming arrangement had one along with other items just in case. He quickly found it and scanned the other’s forehead. “Shit hyung, we need to get this lowered fast. Your fever is 103.2.” Jisung quickly turned on the faucet of the bathtub, making sure it was lukewarm and waited for it to fill up.

Jisung helped Hyunjin undress down to his boxers, then helped him into the tub. He then quickly left again to grab his phone and returned to the bathroom. When he got to the bathroom however, Hyunjin’s face somehow got paler and greener. Jisung rapidly grabbed the tiny trash can located near the toilet and held it under his hyung’s head.

Hyunjin gagged a couple of times before his head was basically thrust into the can as he dry heaved into it. After several moments of dry heaving, only a small stream of bile came out. Hyunjin leaned back when he was done and whimpered in discomfort. He then heard a phone ringing quickly followed by Jisug answering it.

“Yeah hyung, Jinnie is in zero condition for the concert tonight. He’s thrown up at least twice and he’s got a high fever.” Hyunjin turned to see that Jisung was talking on the phone.” Jisung sighed as he hung up the phone and turned back to Hyunjin.

“Chan hyung is having a manager talk with the front desk about getting us moved to a different room. You stay in the tub for a bit and I’ll make sure our suitcases are set for the move. Holler if you need me.” With that Jisung left the bathroom.

It only took a few minutes for Jisung to get everything put together and he returned grabbing the thermometer off the bathrom counter. He quickly scanned Hyunjin’s forehead again. “It’s a little bit lower hyung. It’s now 102.8. Let’s get you out of the tub and changed, the manager will be here shortly. The manager showed up and helped carry the bags while Jisung braced Hyunjin. He offered to carry the sick member, but Jisung adamantly refused not wanting to increase the chance of it spreading beyond him and Hyunjin. He just needed to convince Chan to let him sit out of the concert as well.

The duo got into the room and their manager told them that he called room service to bring up some soup. He then left to go buy some fever reducers on Jisung's request.

Jisung helped Hyunjun get settled on the bed nearest to the bathroom. "How do you feel hyung?" Jisung asked. "Like shit." Was all Hyunjin said. "I'm going to quick fill up the ice bucket. Do you think you'll be okay for a few minutes?" Hyunjin nodded and Jisung left the room with the bucket.

In the few minutes that Jisung was gone, the soup had arrived and was sitting on a cart outside the room. Jisung placed the ice bucket on the cart and wheeled into the room. He brought the bowl of soup over to the sick member then took the bucket to the bathroom to fill with water.

Hyunjin was a bit hesitant to eat the food. He wasn't sure how his body was going to tolerate anything, but also knew he needed to eat something. He began to eat slow bites of the soup as Jisung returned with a bucket of ice water and a washcloth.

Jisung sat on the bed next to Hyunjin and dipped the cloth in the bucket before wringing it out and placing it on the older's neck. Jisung then turned on the TV and began eating his own bowl of soup. The duo ate in relative silence, and by the time they finished Hyunjin was beginning to nod off.

Jisung quickly and quietly put the bowls back on the cart before getting back on the bed to cuddle with his sick hyung. He knew it wasn’t the smartest idea, but he knew that Hyunjin loved to cuddle when he wasn’t feeling good. Jisung also had a fairly strong immune system. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had last been genuinely sick with anything other than a minor cold, and those usually lasted like three days, so he wasn’t worried. Jisung fell asleep not too long after Hyunjin.

About an hour later, Hyunjin suddenly woke up a bit confused. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had woken up, but before he could ponder it any, he began throwing up all over the bed and his oldest dongsaeng.

Hyunjin felt like he couldn’t control himself at all. He could feel how his stomach contracted painfully as it pushed the bile and the soup from lunch up his throat. Which in turn triggered his gag reflex so he could properly expel whatever was making his stomach so angry.

Once he had finished puking, he was able to take note of what had happened and realized that he had puked all over his dongsaeng, who was sitting frozen on the bed and looked to be on the brink of tears. Hyunjin was about to start apologizing, but Jisung shot up and ran to the bathroom before he could. A few seconds later, Hyunjin could hear what sounded like Jisung puking.

“Sungie, are you okay?” Hyunjin called, guilty that his dongsaeng had evidently caught his stomach bug. He met with further retching around noises that sounded kind of like ‘I’m fine. A minute later, Jisung emerged from the bathroom, stripped down to his boxers.

“That did not feel good.” Jisung muttered as he dug through his suitcase for some clean clothes. He looked up to find Hyunjin looking extremely guilty. “What’s up hyung?” he asked somewhat cautiously. Hyunjin sniffled, “I got you sick.” Jisung chuckled at that.

“While I have to admit that puking so suddenly and hard like that did not feel good, and that technically you did cause the puking, I’m not sick.” Hyunjin’s face morphed from guilt and concern to confusion at that statement.

“I operate pretty well around vomit and people puking, but as soon as someone pukes on me, my body kind of freaks out and decides it needs to expel whatever as well. I promise I’m fine.” Jisung finished his explanation then began to strip the bed of the duvet, which caught the puke that hadn’t landed on his lap.

“I think you should take it easy tonight though Sung, just in case.” Jisung nodded in understanding and took his phone off the nightstand, calling Chan.

After a couple of rings, Chan picked up. “What’s up Sung, How’s Jinnie?” “About that hyung, Hyunjin threw up again, then threw up right after.” Chan sighed upon hearing this. “Alright, I’ll talk with the managers and the other members and see if we can manage the show with just six, or if we have to cancel or postpone tonight’s concert. We’ll discuss tomorrow’s concert tomorrow. Feel better you two.” Chan hung up shortly thereafter, leaving the two oldest 2000 liners to their own devices.

Jisung put the phone down and noticed the box of fever reducers he had completely forgotten about on the cart with the room service. He grabbed the thermometer, the medicine, and some crackers before going back over to Hyunjin. He scanned the older’s forehead with the thermometer. “The good news is your fever is still down a little at 102.8, but the bad news is it hasn’t gone down any more. Do you think you can stomach a few crackers and take some medicine?” Hyunjin nodded and took the crackers. After he ate the crackers he took the offered dose of medicine and slumped back against the pillow.

It was soon decided that it would be too difficult to rearrange the choreography from eight people to six on such short notice, so management issued a statement postponing the remaining two concerts for the following week. Thankfully the location they were performing in was free the following week, so it wasn’t too difficult to rearrange some things. Twitter and Bubble had been blowing up from concerned fans wishing the sick members ‘get well soon’.

During the week they now had off for recovery, Jisung made sure that no one else actually came into the room. He only opened the door to receive the food their manager had arranged, successfully keeping the stomach bug contained to his and Hyunjin’s hotel room.

Just as Jisung had told Hyunjin, he was absolutely fine. He had never developed a fever and only puked the one time, so it was fairly safe to say he hadn’t caught the virus.

Hyunjin on the other hand spent the first couple of days throwing up every few hours. Thankfully he was able to keep food down to some extent, so his fever was able to be kept at a manageable number. He stopped vomiting three days into the week, and his fever broke two days before the first rescheduled concert. Hyunjin went on vlive the day before the first concert to talk with Stay and assure them that he was feeling much better, but wouldn’t be dancing during the concert. Jisung also made an appearance and assured fans that no one else had gotten sick as they had both remained sequestered to their hotel room the entire time.

[say-narry]

The Tonight Show

>> Versão em PT-BR

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry, english isn't my first language! Hope you all like!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for our friend and singer Harry Styles and his friend and new Marvel's actress, Y/N Y/LN!" Jimmy raised his arms pointing to the stage entrance and Harry and Y/N entered side by side.

They smiled and waved to the audience, who returned the whistling and clapping.

Harry greeted Jimmy with a brief hug and Y/N did the same, giving kisses.

Jimmy pointed to the two dark armchairs next to his table and Y/N sat down next to Jimmy and Harry next to him.

The whistling and clapping ceased. They were both smiling for the cameras and sure enough, The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon was scoring very high ratings.

"Great to have you here, everybody! " Jimmy started "We've been on this marathon interviewing friends in the business world and you're closing with a bang!" there was some applause "How long have you been friends?"

Y/N and Harry looked at each other and posed as if they were thinking.

"About three years, right?" Y/N looked at his friend, who agreed. "I wasn't so well known yet, I was participating as a co-star in This is Family, Harry was very nice to send invitations to everyone to his show. From that moment on, we started our partnership."

"Very nice that! And you must hear this question a lot..." a chill went through their stomachs, they knew what it was going to be "Nothing ever happened between you?" Jimmy let out a chuckle and their cheeks flushed.

It was more the discomfort of the question than the act that never happened. They were very close friends, nothing more than a tight hug and kisses on the cheek.

On social media, it was clear that Harry was the friend every woman would want to have, and to S/N fans, there was nothing going on between them since she had a few quick flings with Chris Evans, but only one person knew how much Harry was in love with his best friend, ever since he saw her in the sitcom she acted in, it motivated him to give input to the cast. He himself was that person. He wanted to see if the energy she conveyed on the small screen was the same, but it wasn't. It was simply much better. Y/N was Harry's fit, he had known that since they had spoken in person and Harry had already pulled strings to keep her around.

"No, we never had anything." Harry answered.

"Okay!" Jimmy joked making a funny face. "Kidding guys, it's uncomfortable this kind of question, but I think that just like me, your fans also think that you would make a cute couple."

"We see this a lot on twitter, I often take screenshots and send them to Harry, we laugh a lot, but we have a mutual respect. " Y/N tried to close the subject.

"And about your new song, Harry..."

"We are back with our guests, guys, and they agree to play our "hit the target" game!" Jimmy pointed to three dolls with the picture of himself, Y/N and Harry. There were scores written on part of each one's body.

"It's just a game, but we want to test your aim!" Jimmy continued "As you can see, there are points on every part of our body. Whoever manages to get the five arrows with the most points can choose a charity to donate 50 thousand dollars!" Harry and Y/N clapped side by side again "The loser will have to answer a question from our little box." Jimmy waved a dark red cube and his friends agreed.

The game began with Jimmy aiming at the head height of his paper doll. He fired all five plexiglas and accumulated 100 points.

The next player was Y/N, who ended up taking off her heels to make her move firmer, being assisted by Harry, who made the audience gasp for the act of affection when he held her to take off her shoes.

Y/N shot the first one, hitting the heart of her dummy, starting with 300 points. The next two missed, and the last one hit his dummy's forehead, adding another 100 points.

Harry just looked at her amused. She was good at this, sometimes you guys played this at his parties, it was a game that got on his nerves, because he wasn't good at it.

"Come on, Harry!" The host handed the little arrows to Harry and he positioned himself as Y/N did, maybe if he followed her way, he would be able to hit more points.

Big mistake.

The first arrow hit his wrist, starting with ten points. He made a snapping motion of his neck, drawing a few laughs from the audience. Harry shot two more arrows, one of which hit his arm, and the other fell before it hit the dummy.

"I think it's those rings." He complained loudly and took them off, giving them to Y/N who put them on, showing his fingers to the cameras, making a joke to the home audience.

Harry pointed to the heart of his dummy. If he got it right, he wouldn't have to answer the question.

And he shot. The arrow made a turn and unfortunately stopped in his arm, giving him another 50 points.

Harry would have to answer the damn question.

He groaned in despair as Jimmy and Y/N celebrated their victory.

The announcer walked away and picked up the red box and waved it at Harry. Who pouted in disappointment, sure all his fanclubs would be commenting on his cute expression.

"Take a little paper and read it to us, Harry." Jimmy held out the box and Harry put his hand inside, feeling some papers on his fingers.

He moved his hand a little and brushed at a piece of paper. He unfolded it and read.

His breathing had suddenly become heavier. It seemed as if he was out of breath, his fingers holding the small paper trembled.

"Er... Your challenge is: declare yourself to your crush!" The audience let out a few shouts and Y/N, always very expressive, opened her mouth and her eyes widened. Harry denied it with his head, laughing sideways, trying not to show his nervousness.

As close as they were, Harry didn't mention his girlfriends. She followed his fans that were also Harry's fans and sometimes she saw news about him dating some woman, but if he didn't say anything, it could be just his friends and if it was, she wouldn't invade his intimacy, she would wait for him to say something. Nothing had to be heavy in that friendship, she was aware of that, sometimes they would rather spend their time talking about random things like constellations and signs than their boyfriends and that was fine with her.

"Is this really necessary?" Harry asked in a playful tone.

Jimmy laughed and nodded positively.

They had formed a sort of open wheel on the stage.

"Come on, H! You can do it, because that's what I want to know too!" Y/N teased him.

He looked at her, closing his eyes as if she had failed in some secret plan of theirs.

"Okay... The person I like is very special..." He took a breath, playing with the paper in his hand "I won't say the name, but I will tell the situation we lived."

Y/N squatted down next to Jimmy, who hugged him in a friendly way while they listened to Harry.

"We were at a party among friends. We drank a lot, which we never did. It was on our friend's yacht, it was really an exciting day. I remember that we drank so much that this person... vomited a green liquid on my feet." Jimmy made a face of disgust and the audience murmured with disgust as well, Y/N remained static, because she knew this story. She had been there. She had vomited on him, which got a good laugh when she sobered up. "It's disgusting, I almost followed this person, but seeing this person so vulnerable, so sensitive in my arms... It made me see how much she was the perfect person for me, showed me how completely in love I was with her."

Y/N's heart soared, but as an actress who had conquered Hollywood, she made the best expression of curiosity, pretending not to know what it was all about.

"Do you have any idea who it is, Y/N?" Jimmy asked.

"I have no idea, I wish I could use my mind reading powers right now." She joked, referring to her character.

On the other side of the stage, there was an embarrassed Harry. His heart was tight, because he knew his best friend wasn't stupid and hadn't forgotten that day on the boat, when he took care of her, so much so that she slept on his lap and thanked him for it. He knew how spontaneous she was, he was dying for her to run out of Jimmy's side and jump on his lap and kiss him in front of everyone.

On the social networks, there was no other talk. Both of their names were at the top of the world trends topics, and in the news of the famous as well.

Y/N had donated the amount to the institution that cared for homeless people in New York. In a game of scenes, she returned the rings to Harry and didn't look at him, just went along with Jimmy's antics, leaving her friend completely out in the cold.

She didn't want to even think about it. Harry had never given the slightest sign of interest, he had gone out with a woman in the last few days... She was just another friend, no?

Jimmy thanked them both for their presence. They posed for some pictures with the host and the fans in the audience, both of them swallowing dryly and not looking at each other.

Soon the Y/N's accessory called her over and they left. She couldn't look at Harry, couldn't imagine that her favorite teenage singer, her current best friend, was in love with her, a foreigner new to show business.

It had been 15 days since the show had aired. There was still some murmuring on the social networks, Harry and Y/N had come in to check what they were talking about and most had picked up on Harry's words, they had even gotten pictures of them both from the day of the party on the yacht. It was clear from the whole thing.

But they hadn't exchanged a word, their friendship was shaken and Y/N couldn't stand it anymore.

On her day off in London, she took a coat since it was autumn and considerably cold in the late afternoon. She had always been a person who liked to dot the i's and cross the t's. Why was she running away this time? It was Harry there. It was Harry declaring that he was in love with her. What was the problem? She had been in love with him since she was a teenager, the Hollywood world was attractive and fantastic, but to whom could she be sincere, be herself, be the Y/N who left Brazil in search of opportunity and conquered the world? Except for her family, Harry was the only person fit for the job. Him. Only him.

Harry lived a few blocks away, she closed the apartment door and left the condo, there were no paparazzi, not that she had seen.

She pulled up her black hoodie and put her hair over her face, walking quickly through the cold streets of the chic neighborhood.

Braving some closed pedestrian signals, she arrived after a few minutes at the brown stone wall and black gate.

She had the key, they were so close at that point. They trusted each other.

Entering and closing it quickly, she saw some lights on. Y/N hadn't wondered if Harry was accompanied by someone else, his producers or his family.

Her finger slid between the detailed gold knob and opened the door, the wind and the smell of Harry's perfume went straight to her nostrils, filling her lungs.

She stepped inside and took a deep breath. Her heart seemed to throb close to her throat, and as cold as it was, she was sweating.

"Harry?" She called out. "H?"

No sound, no "I'm here!" The alarms hadn't gone off, he could be in the shower or in the studio composing something.

"Harry! It's Y/N, we need to talk!" She said a little louder "If you're with someone, I'm leaving..."

She walked to the center of the huge decorated room, there were some golden items, it was Harry's face. Y/N smiled as she touched a beautiful vase on the table. She couldn't lose him. She loved him, loved his way, his voice, his everything.

"Y/N." She heard Harry's husky voice, behind her between two sliding doors. It was his home office.

Harry was wearing a robe, his face had a sad, tired expression. His hair was not as she was used to seeing it. It was just the way it was. His nose was red, as if he had just cried.

That was it.

"Hazza!" Y/n murmured, walking slowly over to him, who bowed his head in shame.

"What was it?" Without denying his Aquarius side, Harry answered short.

The woman took a breath of air, until she walked more quickly in front of her best friend, stretching her hands until she held his face and joined their lips.

If you could see their stomachs, it would be something similar to fireworks in Copacabana on New Year's Eve.

Harry pushed the doors aside and took his best friend by the waist, pressing her against him.

How much he had dreamed of this. How much he wished it would happen. Their lips were warm, their tongues met, caressing each other, the sighs were audible, Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"Forgive me." Y/N pulled away minimally whimpering, stroking between his best friend's jaw and neck. "I'm not afraid when I'm the superhero, but in real life... I'm a coward."

Harry shook his head negatively.

"I shouldn't have exposed us like that." Harry passed his hand over his girl's face "But I had to tell the truth."

Y/N agreed, putting her arms around her best friend's neck, hugging him tightly.

"I'm glad you came." Harry murmured. "I couldn't stand another day without talking to you."

"Not anymore, babe. I'm yours from now on."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Any suggestions?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

To @leeroysdancer ;)

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, Yours (1)

(gif not mine) - fluff Baek ㅠ

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

AU: professor Baekhyun, domestic AU, family AU, triplet craze AU

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: none

This is a sequel to Simply, Yours! You do not need to read it first, but it will give you better understanding of the situation in the story.

Enjoy!

Masterlist / story masterlist

Next -->

<3 <3 <3

“Ta-da!” Sukyeong held out two coupons in front of your face, her excited smile not dazzling enough for you to mimic it. “Let's start working out!”

You were unsure right away for many reasons. First one was the squirming infants on you and on her. Juna was the eldest triplet but she had nothing on the middle one, Junhee, who was currently tapping away on the play mat made out of pastel coloured puzzles in front of the big couch in the spacious living room. Jun was the only boy triplet and the youngest. He was peacefully sitting on your lap, your palms flat on his cute baby tummy while he was looking up at Sukyeong with huge eyes that, the more he grew, the more they resembled his father's. The issue was, where would you put your munchkins while you'd be working out?

Second one was more personal and one that you felt guilty for thinking about, but you couldn't help it. Would you have enough energy to go through sixty minutes of work-out? You were still breastfeeding and pumping, by now completely accustomed to it. It made up a huge part of your day; if you didn't have the infants pressed to your breast, it was the pump attached to you, hidden under your shirt while you were running around the house, trying to get chores done while the babies would nap. Being exhausted was a given, but squeezing in more exhaustion? Doubtful.

Third one was the one that always gave you a slight headache. Travelling through busy Seoul was difficult to do by yourself with triplets. Despite living in a very good apartment at the moment, which was a kind present from the government as a thank you gift for bringing triplets to the aging society, it didn't mean your financial issues disappeared with it. Keeping up the apartment was a huge responsibility; the energies, the water, the common fees, lots of management with the apartments' committee that your husband became part of - it all required money and the lottery ticket you received and made you a billionaire quickly dispersed in your bank account. Another issue were the triplets themselves. Keeping up with them, buying diapers, clothes that they seemed to outgrow in a speed of light - it all required lots of income but there was only one source - Baekhyun, your husband.

As much as you always told him you would find a job to keep the financial stability, you could hardly find a time to sit down and go through job offers, let alone actually prepare for an interview. You knew many companies would refuse you if you as much as mentioned you were a mother.

“Oh, no, I can practically see the turning gears in your brain, mumma friend,” groaned Sukyeong and leaned in to press a loud kiss to Jun's face which in turn made him surprised. That surprise quickly morphed into a huge, toothless grin and you were fast to follow him, too. Jun was the weakest of the triplets and was prone to get more sick. He had a terrible season of harsh refluxes which made you and Baekhyun extremely worried and unhappy. Jun wouldn't be able to accept your milk, vomiting it out right after swallowing. His smiling face meant more to you than anything else in that moment.

“Auntie Sukyeong is being silly, hmm,” you cooed lovingly and you also leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He had dark baby hair growing, and it always made you realize just how fragile these babies were. “I don't know Sukyeong,” you finally answered her. “I would love to work on my body and gain back my old one but I just can't see it happening.”

She quickly held up her hand. “Before you get into all the details - they have a little baby corner where you can leave the munchkins while we work out! And-and I would come with you! We have a car with Chen, so I'd pick you up and then we don't have to worry about travelling in an over-packed bus.”

You pursed your lips, thinking. “What time is the training?”

“I think it starts at seven in the evening!” she exclaimed and quickly took out her phone to search. “It's lots of cardio and core strengthening so it's very beneficial for you!”

“Hmm, I would have to discuss with Baekhyun,” you murmured. “He comes home late these days but I just want to know his opinion.”

“Make sure you don't get squeezed down by your hubby,” Sukyeong noted and leaned down again to look at Jun. “I know you guys are basically inseparable but he's been working so much since he became a professor. Make sure you don't become second to him over his work.”

“Well, he is the youngest ever, so I understand he wants to try his best.” You wanted to question her words - Baekhyun never prioritized his work over you or your children. He was just about to be thirty and you were just in the middle of your twenties, you didn't think you would reach that kind of crisis in your relationship yet.

“Yeah, but he doesn't have to do the hapkido training in the evening, yet he decided to do it,” she reminded gently, and touched Jun's cheek, “so you can do just the same, right? You are always with the babies and spend lots of time by yourself. You deserve to have a little time dedicated to you and, of course, me!”

You smiled but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Sukyeong wasn't wrong but you knew Baekhyun was only trying to start off his professor career as good as he could. He upped his game as a cool professor by always wearing outstanding suits - dark red, striped, the list went on. He looked very, very handsome and it sometimes even pained you to let him go to school like that. He told you it was to make sure people remembered him in the department and for his students to think he was cool; a trust-worthy professor to whom they could always turn to; a cool professor with whom they could have a good workout session in the evening and try to defeat him in hapkido. It was all great, but his work brought you back a tired husband.

“Maybe you're right. I will talk to him tonight. When do the classes start?”

“Next week! Tuesday and Thursday! I think it's the perfect timing!”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. Your best friend could always make you giggle when you needed it. “I'll talk to him and let you know, hm?” Just as you finished the sentence, you jumped to your feet, trying to prevent Junhee from climbing over the small coffee table. “Aren't you a little wild girl? You must be after your father,” you breathed and Sukyeong laughed.

<3

Baekhyun returned to a quiet apartment that evening. It was past eight and it meant triplets must have been asleep by then. He felt guilty right away, because he missed their bedtime. It wasn't like it was set - they woke up enough times during the night for Baekhyun to be by their side, but he still wanted to be part of the evening routine like bathing them, being next to you when you fed them, changing their nappies and their clothes. It was all the little things, but he was missing out on them.

You were lying on the couch, your eyes closed, your arm over your eyes to block the light out.

He crouched next to you, taking your hand in his. “Honey, I'm home,” he murmured gently, watching you remove your arm and smiling down at him tiredly.

“Hey, baby. Let me heat up the dinner,” you said, sitting up right away, but Baekhyun stopped you from standing up.

“Sorry I came home late again,” he said guiltitly. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it a few times while looking intently into your eyes.

“It's fine,” you sighed and cradled his cheek. He leaned into the touch and eventually pulled on your hand to move closer to him, which you did. He met you half-way, pressing his lips to yours. He prolonged the kiss by puckering his lips several times, making little kissy noises that made you pull away and smile widely. Baekhyun immediately grinned.

“How was your day, princess? You look very tired,” he noted, slight worry etched in his features.

You shook your head and pressed another kiss to his lips. “The usual, you know it. Sukyeong was over and we talked,” you told him, and you wanted to bring up the topic of you attending workout classes when he said:

“Good, good, I’m glad she kept you company. I am in charge of some doctoral students now, so I need to lecture them over the summer break, but otherwise I made it clear that I want a full summer holiday so I can be with you more,” he informed you and nuzzled your nose.

You sighed in content. “Do whatever you think is the best, Baekhyun,” you whispered, your breath hitting his lips. Your hand reached out and tucked on his tie. “I just want you to enjoy your work.”

“I know you do but you and the babies always come first. Always,” he emphasized and this time brought both of his hands up to your cheeks and kissed you again, more eagerly. “I missed you,” he murmured and dived back in, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Humming in pleasure, you shimmied yourself closer to the edge of the sofa so that Baekhyun was crouching between your legs, your hand untying his tie. “I always miss you,” you murmured between the kisses.

He kissed you one last time and smiled. “I don’t want dinner. Let’s just cuddle, hm?” He flickered his eyes up to yours, his thumb running over your cheek. “I had a light dinner in school anyway.”

You nodded. You felt like your body weighed another twenty kilograms so you didn’t take much to convince.

After all, finishing the day a little earlier with Baekhyun by your side in the bed was always the best way to wind off. You found yourself in his embrace under the sheets, his black shirt hiked up as your arm rested around his middle.

He smooched your temple. “Was Jun okay today?” he asked quietly into the darkness of the room.

Baekhyun had texted you many times during the day to double check on his son but he still had to ask to make sure nothing happened in the short time he wasn't in touch with you.

You looked up at him. “He was okay, thank god. I hope that reflux is finally over.”

“I hope so too,” he sighed and kissed you again. “It’s so heartbreaking to know he is struggling to receive food.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you pouted against it. Everything about babies was scary. Both of you got used to them and to the crazy lifestyle but anything that would go wrong would throw you off the boat. Jun always needed special attention. “It will be all fine, right?” you murmured against his skin and as a reply, he tightened his embrace around you.

“It must be. Jun is a healthy and sturdy boy just like me, hm?” he joked.

You breathed a small laugh. “Yes, you're absolutely right.” Pushing yourself up, Baekhyun's arm loosened and he looked at you with questioning eyes when you faced him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you - Sukyeong has a coupon for these workout classes. They start next week at 7pm. I'd be away on Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours. Would you mind if I go for it with her?”

Baekhyun's eyes kept flickering to your lips as you spoke and you felt your heart swell whenever he looked at you like that. He finally met your eyes and brought his hand up to brush your hair out of your face. “You should totally do it if you feel like it, sweetheart. It's your body and I know you don't get to move around much when you're at home a lot. What kind of workout is it?”

You pulled a thinking face. “She mentioned core strengthening and cardio.”

“That's very good. You should definitely work on those to keep your body strong,” he advised in a gentle tone. “But just know that if it will be too hard, you don't have to keep doing it, alright? Your body is perfect and as long as you're healthy, nothing else matters.”

Baekhyun always made sure to provide reassurance even when you didn't ask for it. You smiled widely and leaned in, hugging him. You were literally splattered all over him and he brought his leg over yours to accomodate you better. “Thank you.”

He hummed and kept playing with your hair that managed to grow quite a lot in the meantime. Even though it was falling out like crazy after giving birth and your hair brush gave you a heart attack whenever you made a single swipe with it, you didn't pay it much attention. Being so busy with the kids, you hardly took notice of how you actually looked.

“What about the munchkins? I'll try to make sure I'll be home early but if I can't make it where will you put them?” he asked again.

“Sukyeong said there is a baby corner where mothers can put their kids for the time being.”

“Is it three-month-old-baby safe though?”

“I will try to contact them to double-check, alright?”

He hummed again in reply.

“You trust me with them, right?”

His hand stopped brushing your hair. “What kind of question is that? Of course I trust you with them, baby,” he replied quickly. “You're their mother. If there is anyone who knows them well, it's you.” He paused and you snuggled yourself even closer, making Baekhyun chuckle. “But you know what?” He leaned into your ear. “You'll always be my baby. My little lady.”

His breath tickled you on the ear and you laughed, even his words tickling your heart. He laughed along and he rolled you over so that he was on top. He started dropping sweet butterfly kisses all over your face and you scrunched your eyes close, emotions of love, joy, contentment making you feel like a millionaire thanks to your husband.

“You don't have anything to reply to oppa?” teased Baekhyun and smooched you under your ear. “Tell oppa you love him.” Another kiss on your neck. “Tell oppa he is the best.”

You kept giggling. “Baekhyun c'mon! Stop!”

“Not until you say what I want to hear,” he refused with a cheeky smile, kissing your lips loudly.

You gasped when you felt his hand under your shirt, tickling you on your side. You squirmed under him, trying to suppress the laughter that was making your muscles hurt. He was being a big tease and you knew he wouldn't stop until he had it his way.

“Oppa, I love you,” you told him through laughter and he stopped tickling you right away, suddenly very attentive to your words, “oppa, you are the best,” you said breathlessly, reciprocating the eye contact. “I'm oppa's baby,” you added and felt your cheeks heat up.

Baekhyun observed you with a smile. “That's right,” he murmured eventually and leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “You're oppa's baby girl,” he said in a low tone, his lips moving against yours. He captured your lower lip in a slow, sensual manner that had your insides ignite with passion. You closed your eyes and followed his lead, his kiss purely there for the sake of showing you love rather than leading to something more.

It was only nine in the evening, but it was by far the nicest time you had in a while; your triplets sleeping, your husband home and only yours until work would steal him away from you, and he did his best to make you feel loved, appreciated, beautiful and wanted.

<3

Morning came much earlier for you. Junhee was up at three which you found quite good since they slept ever since you put them to sleep the night before and therefore enabling you and Baekyhun to have some alone time. 

Quickly grabbing the intercom so that Baekhyun wouldn't wake, you went to their room, the three baby cribs and a small dimmed light welcoming you. Junhee was crying, rolling in her place which was her new favourite pastime to do since she learned how to keep her back up and straight.

“Shh, shh, sweetie, don't cry.” You took her in your hands and rocked her in your arms while you checked the remaining two infants. Jun was wide awake, his eyes looking back at you with interest which you found funny, because he didn't make a single peep, while Juna was about to follow her younger sister, her small face already scrunching up at the sight of you.

Just when you were about to reach for her while you were balancing Junhee in your other arm, you felt a pair of familiar ones on your waist, stopping you. “Let me,” Baekhyun rasped into your ear, sleepily kissing your cheek. He walked up to Juna and brought her out of her crib, the baby looking tiny on his broad chest. She started to wail just in time, and you and Baekhyun exchanged looks that spoke volumes - you would be up for a while.

There was a small corner in their room with two rocking chairs that Baekhyun insisted on buying for feeding time. While you sat down in one, Baekhyun went out to heat up some breast milk you pumped earlier, so that Juna could feed.

You adjusted your shirt and within seconds Junhee attached her tiny mouth to your breast, her eyes closing in delight as she sucked on your milk. Smiling, you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes too, sleep quickly chasing you down.

Baekhyun appeared next to you with a bottle that contained the heated up milk and had Juna eat. Just like Junhee, Juna closed her eyes as she diligently drank, making Baekhyun's features soften with affection. He had her lying on his thighs, her tiny feet resting against his stomach while he held up the bottle for her. Occasionally, her small hand would tap against Baekhyun's long fingers which you found endearing. His index finger was bigger than her whole hand. “Jun doesn't seem to be hungry,” he commented quietly as he looked at Junhee in your arms. “Did he eat last night?”

“Yeah, he ate well,” you replied in a low voice. “I think he just isn't a crybaby,” you said with a chuckle. “These two sisters keep pushing him aside all the time.”

Baekhyun looked down at Juna. “Well, they better not. You will have to take care of your younger siblings, miss Byun Juna,” he told his daughter in a cooing voice. “So you better be a good older sister.”

You shook your head at his words and he laughed, sending you a wink. “You should go and rest, babe,” you told him after a while, “you have to get up early.”

“I'm not leaving all the work to you. We are in this together, right?” he said just as he always did. That was his iconic sentence that always made you effectively shut up. He was right, and you shouldn't have been taking away his father duties, but you knew he had a lot of work. Eventually, he would be nearing his limit and you didn't want that.

“That's more like it,” Baekhyun commented when you didn't reply.

You only managed to smile, closing your eyes again. Despite getting used to this lifestyle, it still made you feel uncomfortable how the babies would bite down on your nipple or the small cramps you'd get in your abdomen while feeding. Also-

Wetness was what made you open your eyes to look at the unoccupied breast. Before you could say something, Baekhyun spoke up: “Should I bring Jun? Or the pump?” His worried eyes were looking at the leaking milk, your shirt quickly becoming drenched.

You sighed, feeling helpless. If some mothers weren't able to produce milk, you were the exact opposite. There were times where you had to let out milk even though you already fed, even though you already had enough milk in storage for later. It kept pouring out of you and you didn't have other choice but to release it. The entire family could easily feed off of you at that rate. 

It would have been okay, but the pain of dried up milk in your breasts was something you were scared of, so making sure you could let the milk flow was important.

“Can you please bring me the pump?” you told your husband absent-mindedly and Baekhyun was fast to cooperate while keeping Juna in his arms so she wouldn't be disturbed.

And just like that, you stayed up till early morning until the triplets fell back asleep - you waited for Jun to be hungry, and finally lied down when Baekhyun was getting ready for work. He even made sure the babies' nappies were fresh.

With swollen eyes, you watched as he dressed into one of his striped suits, looking like a Burberry model. He turned to look at you as he buttoned up his white shirt, his hair smoothed back, revealing his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked you gently, walking over to your side.

You smiled. “I'm good, don't worry, babe. Your lunch box is in the fridge, don't forget it.”

“You didn't have to prepare it,” he clicked his tongue, “just make sure you eat your food, alright, sweetheart?”

Nodding, you sighed and Baekhyun turned to put on his cardigan. “I'll be off. I'll try to come home early, hm?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, bewitched at the sight of him. “Kiss me before you go, handsome professor Byun.”

He gave a half-smile and walked over to you, leaning down so his face was hovering above yours. “Of course I would kiss you before I go. I can't leave my precious princess without a kiss,” he whispered, making you smile amorously. He pressed a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making sure to prolong it. “Rest, okay?”

You nodded. “Another one,” you demanded and Baekhyun laughed, though complied. “Mm, I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he sighed and pecked your forehead as a final kiss. “Text me, hm? I'll go say bye to the munchkins, too. Gotta go now,” he straightened up and gave you a smile before turning and leaving the bedroom.

You heard him shuffle around the apartment before he left for his long day at work.

Deciding to sleep until the babies would need you, you turned around and nuzzled your face into Baekhyun’s pillow, his gentle scent mixed with faint baby detergent pulling you into a fluffy cloud of dreams. That was Baekhyun to you.

<3

A/N: Hi, welcome back to the first chapter. It will slowly all start to roll, but if you read Simply Yours, it is anything but drama after drama. Expect a similar concept too, hope you enjoyed the FAMILY in this chapter!

Thanks for reading!

Please try to comment! I appreacite likes, but a word or two never hurt! ^^

[awritingtree]

Here On Now and Forever

Sirius Black x reader

Summary: Y/N fondly remembers delivering some special news in response to Sirius’ proposal as she relaxes and listens to him fumbling around in their new home.

@weasleysflowr‘s 300 follower writing challenge: Fluff prompt 5. ““You’re an idiot” ... “I’m your idiot”” and miscellaneous prompt 5. “This is why we can’t have nice things.” The prompts have been bolded :)

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: swearing, fluff, pregnancy, a bit of angst I think?

A/N: this is my first Sirius fic and I really do hope I did him justice. I originally wrote one the parts for a Fred Weasley fic but it fitted so perfectly in this one that I just had to include it (let’s see if you can guess which part this is - I had to adjust it to fit Sirius and his life). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy reading this xx

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Y/N had recently moved into a new cottage with her fiancé. The cottage was located on the edge of a lake, a dense forest surrounding the other side of the lake. The water washing over the shore and birds chirping in the forest provided a calming and soothing sound, one that was welcomed in the silence of the cottage when her fiancé was off on Auror missions. The cottage itself was small, enough for a small family of three, which is exactly the amount of people that would be dwelling in it in a few months.

On a particular day, a breeze that made the cornflower blue curtains in the living room fly was pleasant, creating the perfect atmosphere to sit near the window and watch the lake water wash ashore. That’s where Y/N was currently, with her eyes closed listening to Sirius move around in the kitchen, making some lunch for them both. Her hand was placed on her slightly swollen belly, as she fondly recalled when she told Sirius about their little future.

Y/N shoved her shaking hand into her coat, hoping the effortlessly beautiful raven-haired boy couldn’t feel the other hand shaking in his. How was she supposed to tell him this? Yes, they had been dating for approximately seven years, but they had never talked about kids. Starting their own family together had been a sensitive topic due to Sirius’ past with his own family. Y/N and Sirius had been out of Hogwarts for five years now. The war ended two years ago, You-Know-Who defeated at the hands of Dumbledore as Harry and Neville stayed hidden well for the first three years of their life. But still, Sirius had not shown any signs of proposing. Y/N had thought about doing it herself several times, but she knew this was a decision Sirius needed to make because it was him who had to decide, to commit, to the familial life which would not be easy for him due to his experiences.

Unbeknownst to her, Sirius could feel their intertwined hands shaking, but he mistook it as a reflection of his nerves. He wasn’t sure if he should carry out his plan. Would she want to start a life with him? Someone so broken, someone who never had a proper family until the Potters took him in. He had no idea if he was capable of providing Y/N the domestic life she deserved and wanted. He was known to fuck things up quickly. It was a surprise to him he hadn’t fucked anything up yet in their relationship (other than the time he almost lost her when he told Snape about how to make his way to Shrieking Shack on a full moon). What if this was the point where he did fuck up and lost Y/N for good? He couldn’t live without her. As absurd as it sounded, it was true. He could never imagine a life, a Sirius Black, without Y/N Y/L/N by his side.

“Ri, I need to tell you something,” Y/N said as she stopped in the middle of their walk through the park, her voice trembling.

“Before you do, I need to tell you something too. But let me go first because I don’t think I’ll have the courage if I wait any longer.”

Y/N was scared. Did he already know? Was he going to leave her? Wait, how did he know already? She knew she was very careful in making sure no one, and she meant no one, found out. Well except the Healer she visited in St. Mungo’s.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn’t see Sirius getting a small velvet black box from his pocket and kneeling down on one knee until his voice broke her out of her inner turmoil.

“Y/N/N. My love. The day I first met you, I never thought we would end up here. It took us three years to become friends and a year of subtle glances and dancing around each other before you asked me to accompany you on a date to Hogsmeade. Falling in love with you was sudden. It was like falling off the edge of a cliff and hitting the water below. Next thing I knew, I was drowning in you. The day I realized I was in love with you was the day I knew I wouldn’t feel such a love again. When we became friends, I knew it was a friendship I hoped would last as long as possible; but when I fell in love with you, I knew I wanted us to last a lifetime and hopefully longer than that. You are my other half, Y/N/N. You have shown me kindness and have always been patient with me no matter how reckless or brash I act. You have been by my side each time my mother has sent me a letter, held me through all of my panic attacks, and shown me what true love really is. I never thought I would ever have a family, that I would ever want a family with anyone. But you came along and changed everything; you make me want to have a family with you, a life with you. I want to be with you; from here on now and forever. So, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honour of giving me a lifetime and more by marrying me?”

Y/N gulped. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time, but now that it was here, she didn’t want it to be. Not when she was just about to tell him-

“I’m pregnant.”

The anxious grin fell off from an awaiting Sirius’ face. His eyes widened with shock as he stared at his girlfriend. Time passed but he did not move, he didn’t even blink. Y/n chewed on her bottom lip nervously, his lack of response not helping with slowing down her racing mind. ‘He really is going to leave you,’ she thought, holding in the tears that tried to run free. But as time went on, without the man kneeling in front of her showing any emotion, Y/N couldn’t hold down the fort any longer. Tears streamed down her face as her bottom lip quivered. She had assumed the worst; of course he didn’t want her around anymore, he wasn’t ready for this - maybe he didn’t even want this, a kid, a baby.

“I- I’m going to be a father?” Sirius whispered, finally breaking out of his state of shock.

Y/N nodded slowly, holding back a sob.

“I understand if you want nothing to do with him or her, nothing with us. I- we didn’t expect this. I won’t-,” Y/N took a deep breath, “No one will blame you if you decide to leave.”

Sirius quickly got up and cupped Y/N’s face between his hands. His silver-grey eyes, glistening with unshed tears, looked into her Y/E/C eyes.

“Never, my love. I could never leave you. I could never leave you, him or her. I can’t believe this. I- how long have you known?”

“A few days. I went to St. Mungo’s on Monday when I told you I was going to Diagon Alley to run some errands. I had my doubts for a while, the vomiting, the soreness and the fact that I was over two weeks late,” Y/N explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius asked softly.

“I didn’t know what your reaction would be. I still don’t exactly know what it is,” she said, a forced joking smile on her face. She was trying to diffuse the tension that still hung in the air from his silence, not very successfully though.

Sirius chuckled and leaned down pressing his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

“Like I said, my love. I want you from here on now and forever. And that includes our baby. I love you; I am never leaving.”

Y/N smiled widely through her tears and leaned forward to kiss the love of her life.

A loud crash snapped Y/N back to reality. She spun around to see a black dog transforming into her fiancé, a guilty expression adorning his handsome face. An overturned stand and broken flower vase lay on the floor next to him; water and wildflowers you’d freshly picked together this morning spilled over.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” muttered Y/N.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I completely forgot we’d placed that there. We can get a new one. I’ll go right away and buy another one, one much prettier and more expensive than this. You’ll be glad I broke this. In fact, you’ll forget all about this one.”

Y/N shook her head slightly with an affectionate smile on her face, standing up and walking towards him, “What were you even doing as Padfoot? Weren’t you supposed to be making us lunch right now?”

“Well um,” started Sirius, grinning at her sheepishly as he wrapped his arms around her waist once she was close enough, “I thought I’d come and call you as Padfoot, as a surprise. You do seem to love him more nowadays since we found out about our little future here,” he slid one of his hands to lie gently on her stomach, “But I got a tad bit excited.”

“You’re an idiot,” said Y/N, looking at him endearingly, her arms moving from his forearms to wrap themselves around his neck.

“Maybe. But I’m your idiot,” Sirius countered cheekily.

Y/N laughed softly. She stood up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss from her fiancé.

“My idiot,” she whispered against his lips before pressing their lips together again in a sweet loving, yet passionate kiss.

“I love you,” she spoke quietly.

“I love you too, my love. From here on now and forever.”

“From here on now and forever.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

If you enjoyed reading this fic, please like/comment/reblog! Your opinion/feedback is welcome, appreciated, and motivating :)

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes 

Lmk if you wanted to be added to the taglist :)

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (Epilogue)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: mentions of violence + death, mentions of drugs + drugging + drugging someone else, mentions of sex

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 3k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

1 December

Seven months. That was how long it had been since Jeno had slipped a band onto your finger and kissed you into a marriage that was once so...inconvenient to you. It was funny even thinking back to how the two of you treated each other with so much hostility only a month ago, acting as if a difference of family was so disgusting. It was funny, thinking back to when you tried to kill him with the very nice blades that the Lees polished every other day.

Your back hit the soft mattress and you laid yourself down against the material of the pillow that was now cushioning your head. But your brain didn’t seem to remember the exact moment your hatred for him changed into something else, and even as much as you traveled back into your memories, you never could really find the minute you had looked at him without thinking ‘oh, Lee.’ It made you wonder what changed, but the more you wondered, the more you understood. From all that you had witnessed for the past while, the one thing that hit you the hardest was that: Lee Jeno was just like you. As much as you wouldn’t had dared admit it before, you knew it now; you knew exactly how much the two of you had in common. 

Your entire life you had been raised like bred puppy not to ever trust anyone with your life except for yourself, which often caused you to shun people immediately for the moment you saw this. If it wasn’t in battle, you had never found yourself the kind of person to make friends or casually talk, and when it was, well, you always just did the job that you were told to do. Your personality was an original cold person, the kind of person that wouldn’t want anyone near them that would cause their own emotional attachment. The only exception being family.

You could tell how close Jeno was with his family, and lately having confided in you very minutely about his feeling, how close he was with Donghyuck. It hadn’t occurred to him that his brother had been going through depressive episodes, which had caused him to have outbreaks of different emotions at different times because of the drugs that he had been abused with, not at least until the Lee doctor had diagnosed him in the dungeon that he had been locked up in. And according to him, it had hit him hard. Harder than he had expected himself to be affected by it. His relationship with Taeyong wasn’t necessarily the same, considering he had always had a certain hate for his younger brothers, but Mark? He had said that even if he wasn’t his brother, he would’ve still considered him as one.

You had told him that you—were somewhat similar, though, he didn’t need you to tell him because he had already seen that attachment towards Jisung the entire time that he was recovering. You had always seen it as a weakness, the way that family always was the soft spot in your heart, but the more you talked about it with him, the more you realized it was a strength. Your love for your brother was out of the roof, and he knew that as much as you showed it, and he assured you that it most definitely did not make you weak because you loved.

In the past few days, it had almost felt like you and Jeno had just passed a stage from strangers to friends, from the way you two were actually able to talk and train together. Well, counting out the fact that you had insisted you go to the training room and Jeno had sheepishly told you that his father had specifically asked you not to leave the bedroom for the rest of the month. It ended with you threatening to punch your—father-in-law in the face, and a few very angry knives being thrown at targets.

But Jeno was nice to train with, because he was like you in the fact that your training time was your therapeutic relaxation time. You didn’t want to be disturbed, and neither did he, and that made the perfect pairing. It only lasted till sparring, where you knew he lacked it, and you gave him a few techniques that would help him in the hopeful future. And Jeno, well, he had helped you with your rifle skills.

The two of you were—well—kind of forced to share a room, which allowed for eventful breakfasts and lunches and dinners that would consist of long, unusual, and unnecessary discussions. They were forever ongoing, and they varied from topics such as old comics to your lecture on feminism, but, it allowed for some kind of bonding between the two of you.

Jeno had eventually understood the reason why you were always so defiant against his father, and it did hit him that the Lees were always so discriminatory towards women in their household. He had said with a small voice and a slight smile that ‘one day, when I take over the clan, I’ll abolish the patriarchy.’ But, you both knew that day wouldn’t come for a while, at least, so you had to deal with it for the time being.

You had also learned that Jeno had a very high sex drive. Well, higher than you had expected. You already knew that he really liked taking that cock of his and stuffing you full, but what you didn’t expect was his easy submission. There had been one day where you had taken you chance and sat on his chest, and to your surprise, he had looked up at you with pleading eyes that made you want to sin. And the best part was when he asked for your validation, the constant ‘am I doing good?’ or ‘does that feel good?’ that would make your heart warm up in different ways.

Jeno was sensitive, too, and you hadn’t even noticed it until you woke up one morning to find him crying silently into his hands after hearing the news that one of his sisters were getting married. You were—expecting him to say that someone died, but the fact that his tears were for a happy beginning made you realize how much pent up emotion he had inside of him. You were almost glad to have witnessed him crying for something so...soft.

Jeno was understanding, way more understanding that it made you want to be more accepting of him as well. He had read your mind one night and had snuck you out to visit your home just for few hours, to reunite you with the rest of your family for just the result of your smile in the end. At least, Jeno knew what it felt like being kept away from his family.

You knew he visited Donghyuck everyday, who was now in the hospital wing being treated indefinitely. Though you couldn’t necessarily bring yourself to see the man who had abducted you again without feeling the flashes from before, you knew that it meant a lot to him that he go see him. Even if he didn’t tell you, Mark did, and he always gave you a little toothy smile and told you not to worry about him.

It was on the seventeenth of May when you had woken up with severe cramps and nausea that had caused you to vomit at the break of dawn. It was on that same day that Jeno had insisted that he carry you to the hospital wing with the belief that you were ‘dying from side effects of the oxygen depreciating drug.’ And it was on the same day that the doctor had widened his eyes and told the two of you that, no, you were not dying, but you were pregnant.

The first thing that had come to your mind was: I’m not ready for this. And the truth was that, no, you were one hundred percent not ready to become a mother and bring a child into the world. Jeno had stood there for what felt like an eternity with his jaw dropped until you had given him a slap on the thigh. Well, you shouldn’t had expected yourself to not be pregnant with all that sex and all that non-protection. Yet that was the outcome. But Jeno seemed to have expected it, and the funniest part to you was, he was ten times more excited than you were. Sure, having kids was definitely something you wanted, but having kids when you were nineteen and just married? Not really your cup of tea.

You had finally gotten enough of his anticipating words by the end of the next night, yelling at him with no rationale on the fact that you didn’t even want kids in the first place. That wasn’t completely true, no, but in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t take seeing him so happy about something that he didn’t even see as a burden.

But another thing about Jeno that you had learned was that, he was so selfless. He had sat down with you with his hands grasping yours the entire time as he let you pour your heart out about everything. You ended up crying, almost embarrassingly, but he assured you that it was okay. It was okay to cry when things don’t go the way you wanted.

Jeno was comforting, that was for sure. All he ever did was offer you comfort when you needed it, and gave you everything he could even when you didn’t need it. It was almost like he was sacrificing himself for you, and you didn’t even know why. Not until he told you.

You still remembered the day he did, he had let you sit on his lap in the empty training mats in mid-August, rubbing your thighs softly. You had missed training with him, and that was something he had forbid ever since you had started showing. The least he could do was take you to the scene, and enjoy it with you.

He had pressed his lips down your neck, trailing back up to whisper into your ears words that you truly, never would’ve expected him to say before. You had turned to stare at him for so long, and you had watched the anticipating shine of his eyes as he waited for your response. But, you felt the same way, of course, how could you not?

And everytime since that first time, you would feel like little butterflies in your stomach that would flutter around when he kissed you with those rose lips of his. Kissed you with all the love that he said and gave. And so you had told him back, so quietly, ‘I love you.’

What didn’t strike you was that Lee Jeno was a romantic. A romantic that he would never take credit for. You knew he wouldn’t, but he still woke you up to warm baths and feathered kisses, and he took you outside without his father’s permission to let you view the pretty gardens that were always locked to public view. He kissed you under the covers, and in front of his older brother. He did what he wanted, because he loved you, and he didn’t have to hide it any longer.

Donghyuck had recovered by early September, though having been warned caution by the doctor, Jeno still hadn’t allowed you near him. He had insisted that no, he didn’t have the same liking towards you that he might’ve had before, but he didn’t want to take any chances and put you in danger. You and your unborn child, as well.

But you visited Donghyuck in his room on a crisp afternoon later that month, having avoided Jeno as he had gone on an outing with Mark. It was funny, you thought, seeing him so unflirty and polite from the way that contrasted when he had his episodes before. He had even cried seeing your baby bump, and you could’ve sworn that was the cutest reaction you had gotten from anyone about your child. He was so different, but this was the Donghyuck that Jeno had told you was real, unlike the one that possessed him into taking another name.

Jeno had yelled at you after he came back, having known that you had left that room. And you, well, you yelled back. He had said that you shouldn’t have left. And you had said that he couldn’t stop you. It was heated, and at the end, you had realized: it was your first ever fight. And it was about Donghyuck.

You learned that night that Donghyuck was his half-brother, born from the same father but a different mother. It had been rumored, apparently, that his mother was a Park, at least that was what Jeno had told you. It almost made you laugh, thinking about that, because that man did have qualities that would stick him as a Park. He felt guilt, something apparently, that Lees didn’t feel. Well, it had been just a rumor anyway.

The next day you had awoken to Jeno pulling a bullet out of his arm in the lavish bathroom, and he had to lull you back to sleep with the promise that he was okay. You had learned later that he had gone out on a mission, and had failed to retrieve the said item that was needed, and his father had taken it out on him by shooting a metal ball into his skin. It wasn’t a bullet, per say, and it wasn’t nearly as painful, but it still caused an infection that made you want to barge up to that man and kill him right then and there.

Mark had told you that day that his father always had—unusual punishments when things didn’t go his way, though it seemed more like cruel to you. You hadn’t understood why your husband’s father treated his children as if they weren’t even his children, but a pack of dogs at his bidding to do whatever he wanted with them. It was disgusting.

In mid-October, that was when you realized that Jeno was infatuated with your voice. He had been concentrating on the move of your lips and the sounds falling from them so much that his listening wasn’t even listening, he had just been admiring your voice like it was something beautiful on its own. Even when you had gotten slightly frustrated with him constantly zoning out on your lips, he had just given you that cute eye-smile and kissed you, telling you that you’re gorgeous. That you’re gorgeous, and he loves you.

Jeno was—beautiful in his own sense, with a sense of absolute love and adoration for you that you noticed had grown so unbearable over time that you knew—the two of you couldn’t see a life without each other. You even laughed on that day he told you that, remembering back when the two of you were constantly at each other’s throats for almost zero to no reason. Now? You couldn’t even imagine what your life would’ve been if you weren’t forced to marry him.

Though at the same time, you could. You would’ve been living the same life as you always were, throwing blades and killing for victory. You would’ve been spending time with your younger brother the way you did before, training him and advising him about everything and nothing he needed to know. As much as you had grown to love Jeno, you didn’t think that anything to take over the meaning of Jisung in your life, and it made you tired to think that you couldn’t see him every day as you wished. But Jeno made it happen.

Jeno made—almost everything you wanted—happen. He treated you like a princess, not even, a queen like he sometimes said. He had never wanted to see you upset when you were with him, and if you did, there was always his constant strive to make you smile again. Even if it wasn’t easy. He had snuck Jisung out of the Park mansion on a Saturday night in November, and had woken you up to a brother you hadn’t seen in months.

And over all that time that you had gotten to know and fall for the man that you were formally married to, you had thought back to the day of your wedding and remembered how reluctant you were to marry him. Even back then, you were so weary of how Jeno had managed to make you feel in the time that he had saved you from your abductors, and you didn’t want to feel so weak around a man that had always seemed strong. You didn’t want to let him know that you were already falling for him, because you thought he was so different, but he—really wasn’t.

It had been seven months since you and Jeno had gotten married, and in another two months, you would be welcoming your baby daughter into the world. You had never imagined your life to take such a huge turn when you had entered the Lee palace all that time ago, with only the determination to find the people that had taken their liking for you, but...it had. Jeno hadn’t imagined it either, most definitely not when he found out he was marrying a Park, but he knew that his past self would scold him now if he knew that he was in love with a Park—and married to one too.

But that was where life had taken you, and you could only really hope for a increasingly better future. Both for you, and your husband. It might’ve been forbidden at first, maybe even so inconvenient, but you weren’t about to let it stop you. You would continue to throw knives at a flimsy dart, and you would continue to spar like the high ranked fighter you were. The two of you had made it work, with the best interest in mind as you started, and it had ended up with emotions much stronger than that.

Maybe, just maybe, life wasn’t such a burden all the time.

previous | next

i hope that cleared some things up!! and once again, thank you soo much for supporting my first real series on this blog. i hope you guys enjoyed the outcome of the story, and i gotta say that it took some twists that even i didn’t expect (haha), but here we are at the end! thank you!! ♡

[aomine-ryo]

Hi!! I love love ur work sm🥺❣️ i re-read them everydayy!! Can u pls make a scenario with Aomine, Murasakibara, and Midorima being too tall to enter sum rides in the themepark with their s/o, so they get grumpy and when they come back home. They try to make it up to their s/o with a lot of kisses n cuddles🥺 im asking this cus i recently had a dream similar HAHAHAH thank you so much🥰❤️

Aww I’m so glad you like my work ❤️ I hope you enjoy this one too!! xx

Scenario: Midorima, Aomine and Murasakibara being too tall to go on some rides at the theme park

• Midorima

Japan had opened up a brand new dinosaur-themed amusement park close to where you and Midorima lived. Your boyfriend wasn’t one to get excited over many things, but as soon as he found out about it he had to go, and he made sure to drag you along with him. You weren’t opposed to it though, because you loved theme parks, plus you found it cute how enthusiastic he seemed over text (though he did a good job at concealing his excitement when you brought it up in real life).

On a cloudy Saturday afternoon, you and Midorima headed for the theme park, hand in hand. His lucky item that day was a backpack, which was awfully convenient, so you convinced him to let you put your things in there too. Since the two of you had lunch before arriving, you decided to go on the slower rides first and make your way up to the speedier ones so you wouldn’t get sick.

The first few rides were thoroughly enjoyable even if they were slow paced. There was this one ride that was like a rollercoaster but slower, that took you around the entire park, where you and Midorima had a light conversation as you pointed down at all the rides that looked interesting. You found the bumper cars exceptionally thrilling because Midorima kept trying to drive around flawlessly without hitting anyone, though you made sure to speed after him and bump into his car as much as you could. The look of disbelief in his eyes whenever he’d get hit was pure gold to you.

“Why’d you keep hitting me? You’re an awful driver, Y/N,” he told you once you left the ride.

“Shin-chan the whole point of bumper cars is to get hit,” you said, unable to stop laughing the entire time he explained to you why you should never drive.

As the rides got speedier, Midorima kept getting rejected from entering because he was too tall. He concealed it pretty well the first few times, but you were good at telling when he gets frustrated, and he grew more and more irritated as time passed. He finally lost it when he got rejected from the fastest rollercoaster there, marching off in anger the second the employee told him he couldn’t enter.

You quickly rushed after him, grabbing his wrist so that he’d stop walking off. “Let’s just go home,” he muttered to you.

“Are you sure? We still haven’t played any of the games here. You can win a dinosaur plushie if you can score off three baskets in a row over there,” you told him as you pointed over at the booth that had kids desperately trying to shoot the basketballs successfully. “You never miss your shots, you’re sure to win!” you said, hoping to cheer him up in some way or the other.

“I’m not in the mood anymore,” he said as he shook his head.

You sighed and complied with what he wanted, not wanting to force him into doing anything. The two of you walked back home together in silence. You tried to talk to him by bringing up how fun the other rides were, but you only garnered hums and curt ‘yeah’s from him.

“Shin-chan can you please cheer up? You know I hate when you’re silent like this,” you sighed, when you noticed that Midorima’s mood hadn’t shifted even after the two of you got back home.

“I just can’t believe that they didn’t let me go on a ride called The Velociraptor,” he finally spoke as he plopped onto the couch in the living room. “That’s one of the coolest names for a ride and I couldn’t go on it.”

Those weren’t the words you wanted to hear from him, but it was progress. You moved over and stood behind the couch, beginning to run your fingers through his hair to relax him. “How about we have a little movie night? You can choose the movie,” you said calmly, noticing his shoulders get less tense as he seemed to ease into your touch.

“That sounds nice,” he hummed, finally relaxing after you placed a kiss on the top of his head.

After having showers and changing into some comfortable pyjamas, the two of you cuddled up on the couch in front of the TV with a large blanket covering up both of you. As you watched the movie with your head against Midorima’s chest, your boyfriend slowly began to get over what had happened at the theme park. The smell of your shampoo brought him comfort as he pulled you in closer, glad to have someone like you, who managed to make a good end for his rollercoaster of a day.

• Aomine

Once your final exams ended and your summer break began, you suggested going on a date with Aomine to a theme park, remembering him telling you once how he loved theme parks as a child. When you brought it up to him as you walked home with him after his basketball training, his face immediately lit up, “That’s a great idea. But you better not be scared of rollercoasters,” he said to you.

“Of course not,” you assured him, remembering how much you enjoyed the thrill of a fast rollercoaster.

“Good, because we’re going on all the scary rides,” Aomine grinned, getting excited to spend an entire day going on fun rides with you.

The day finally came for your date and you swore you had never seen Aomine so excited for something other than basketball. In fact, he was probably more excited for this because he had woken up at 8 am to get ready, and Aomine had a track record for not waking up past midday, unless he had school. As you walked into the park, you made sure to hold his hand tightly, afraid that he’d get so caught up in the excitement that he’d just run off.

Aomine beelined towards the biggest and scariest looking ride he could see, with you trying your best to keep up with his long strides. Before entering the line, an employee checked your heights to see if it was okay for you to ride, to which you were good to go, but Aomine was denied for being too tall. You didn’t want to go on the ride without him, so the two of you walked away.

“It’s alright, there are lots of other rides,” you reassured him when you noticed his mood suddenly shift.

“I never thought I’d see the day where I want to be your height,” he sulked, recalling all the times he’d tease you for being short.

“I know you’re bummed, but that’s a low blow,” you huffed jokingly.

You and Aomine continued to visit the other attractions at the park, where his height didn’t seem to be an issue. The haunted house in particular was hysterical, as you got to watch your tough Aomine shriek like a child at almost everything. You didn’t find the haunted house scary at all because you were in fits of laughter at the way your 6’4” boyfriend clung onto your arm. Of course, once you left the haunted house he reverted back to his “cool” self, though you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easy.

“I didn’t know you were such a baby, Daiki,” you teased, wiping the tears of laughter off your cheeks.

“What do you mean? That was nothing,” Aomine scoffed as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Yeah your screams back there make your point very convincing. I’m pretty sure I have bruises on my arm because of tightly you gripped onto me,” you said as you examined your arm. Sure enough, there were bruises, which you waved around in front of him, “See?”

“That means nothing, you bruise like a peach,” he retorted, doing his best to defend his ego.

However, despite being able to go on every other attraction, the denial of the first ride tainted his entire mood for the rest of the day. He’d often see and hear the screams of the people what were allowed onto it since it was visible from such a distance, which meant that his discontent followed him wherever he went. You decided that it was best that you didn’t play any of the carnival games because you knew it would only worsen Aomine’s mood if he lost.

Once you had revisited all your favourite rides, the two of you agreed to head back to Aomine’s house. You hadn’t realised how hung up he was over that one ride he wasn’t allowed on until he ranted about it the entire journey home. If he were to do that with anyone else, they would’ve told him to stop being bitter, but you were quite patient so you let him vent his feelings out to you.

By the time you arrived at Aomine’s, he still hadn’t fully cooled off, so you finally decided to speak up. “Daiki, I know it’s annoying that you couldn’t go on that ride, but wasn’t everything else fun?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed.

You moved in closer to him and pulled him into a kiss, finally getting him to smile once your lips parted. “Did that cheer you up?” you said softly.

“Definitely,” he grinned, “I might need a little more though.” Aomine was a sucker for a good makeout session with you, so whenever he got the chance, he’d take it. He pulled your waist closer to his body before reconnecting his lips with yours. His hands began to roam your body, finding their way under your shirt so that he could feel your soft skin as his tongue explored your mouth. Just like that, he had completely forgotten why he was so frustrated over something so trivial. All he cared for then was that moment with you.

• Murasakibara

Murasakibara was a 6’10” man-child, so when you suggested going to the theme park one day, he immediately said yes. He mainly had his eyes on all the snacks around the theme park, but he was quite eager to go on the rides too. It took a lot of convincing to get him to go on the rides first before eating, to which he finally agreed after you brought up the topic of vomit, which grossed him out enough for him agree with you.

There was one ride that caught Murasakibara’s eye, where you’d spin around normally, but the seats begin to rotate upside down. The mere thought of the ride gave him a headache, but he still wanted to know what it felt like. However he was instantly let down when an employee told him that he was too tall to go on the ride.

“It’s okay Atsushi, there are plenty of other rides we can go on,” you said reassuringly to the sulking boy as you held his hand.

Murasakibara nodded, deciding not to let this one thing ruin his entire mood. His hopes were short-lived though as the same issue arose on multiple other rides too. He was able to go on the rollercoaster, which was one of the very few thrilling rides he was allowed on, so he made you ride that rollercoaster with him several times, until he eventually got bored of it.

It goes without saying that Murasakibara’s experience at the theme park was a let down, so you couldn’t blame him for getting into a grumpy mood by the end of the day. As an attempt to cheer him up, you treated him to some of the food at the theme park, which he obviously found delicious, but it didn’t make up for the bad mood he was in.

“Y/N-chin, can we leave now?” He groaned as he tore a piece of his cotton candy and put it in his mouth. “I don’t like being surrounded by the rides that I can’t go on. It’s ruining my experience of this cotton candy,” he pouted.

“Sure Atsushi,” you said, giving him a gentle smile as the two of you headed for the exit.

You felt bad that your idea had turned into a lousy experience for your boyfriend, so you were determined to make it up to him when you got back home. After Murasakibara dragged himself into the bathroom for a shower, you got to work at making one of his favourite dishes for dinner.

When he left the bathroom, he was greeted by the smell of cream stew wafting around the house, and he felt his mouth begin to water. He immediately beelined for the kitchen, where you were just finishing up with the food. You didn’t seem to notice him entering so you were a bit startled when a pair of long arms snaked around your waist while you were at the stove. “Oh hey Atsushi,” you smiled. You always got butterflies in your stomach when he did things like that, even though you’ve been dating him for a while. “I’m making your favourite to cheer you up.”

“I can tell. It looks and smells delicious, Y/N-chin,” he hummed, before placing a kiss on your neck.

“Why don’t you go and find something to watch on TV while we eat?” you suggested.

“But I wanna stay here with you,” he groaned, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. He had a habit of getting extra clingy with you when he had a bad day, and this was no exception.

“I’ll be there with you in no time, Atsushi. I can’t really work with you clinging onto me,” you said.

He let out a sigh before finally letting go of you. His only motivation for doing so was the fact that it would take longer for the food to be ready. He dragged himself to the living room and plopped onto the couch, beginning to browse through Netflix in attempt to find something to watch.

Just when he decided to watch a comedy movie that was suggested to him, you walked into the living room with two bowls of stew in your hands. The sight of you brought a wide smile on Murasakibara’s gloomy face as he fervently looked at the bowl you handed to him. You ate while watching the movie, though it seemed like your boyfriend seemed to be more interested in the stew rather than whatever was on TV.

Once you had finished eating, you set the bowls aside on the coffee table and ended up cuddling with Murasakibara on the couch as you continued to watch the movie. If there was one thing he loved more than any food, it was cuddling with you and having you fall asleep in his arms. As the credits began to roll, Murasakibara looked down to ask you what you thought of the movie, only to find you fast asleep on his chest. He couldn’t help but think you looked so peaceful while you slept, which brought him so much delight that it made his bad mood so insignificant that it just disappeared.

[patchessolostan]

vertigo

a snippet of a dnf fic i’m kinda working on. 1.8k, canon-ish

Isn’t it strange, how sometimes, certain smells can inspire old feelings, can awaken memories that seemed to be forgotten? The delicate pathways in our brains weaved together in unintended ways, so tight and durable, and yet completely slipping past our radar.

For example, love, to George, smells like oranges.

It’s one of his first ever memories: a Christmas morning two decades ago, the faint tickle of his wool sweater, the subtle warmth of the sun spilling down his back. And his mother’s hands, skin soft and unmarred, neat, rounded nails digging into the orange, carefully peeling it and then splitting its tender flesh. It’s hazy at best, but the smile on her face, his father’s laughter, the sweet juice spilling past his lips—they’re as clear as day still.

He thinks there’s no amount of time that could fade the memory of that warmth from his chest.

 So, perhaps George should’ve known his fate since the day Dream told him his shampoo is orange scented.

But then again, who's to say he would've wanted to change a single thing?

 “I’ll wear the brightest blue clothes I have,” Dream promises, and George can hear the grin in his voice. He always can, whenever the topic of George’s approaching visit comes up. “So much blue, you’ll want to vomit when you see me.”

“That seems counter-productive,” George answers, giggling when Dream sighs dramatically.

“Fine,” he relents when George quiets down. “It’ll be a mild headache. I’m sure you can deal with that.”

I think I could deal with anything, as long as I get to meet you, George thinks, and despite his fluttering heart and shaking hands, he doesn’t say it.

“I hate you both. This is unfair,” Sapnap speaks up after staying silent for five solid minutes while they talked about the upcoming trip. George practically jumps and starts giggling again. “It is so unfair, you both suck, and I’ll fucking block you. Try me.”

“Oh no,” Dream wheezes out, and the sound of both his and George’s laughter easily conceals Sapnap’s muttered insults and protests.

“C’mon,” George says eventually. “At least you know how he looks like. I’m crossing the ocean to meet a fucking stranger.”

“...fair enough,” Sapnap agrees, and Dream just wheezes harder.

George bites his lip before letting his grin fully unfurl as he stares down at his fidgeting fingers.

I’m meeting him.

He wants to scream. Instead George just gently smacks his forehead on his desk.

 Ever since the plans get made, the ticket bought (Dream insists on paying, despite George’s half-assed protests), time seems to move both incredibly fast and insanely slow.

Still, soon enough there’s only a week left to his flight. And yet... George feels like every waking hour takes three more to pass. And it’s not like he can waste the hours away by sleeping, like before.

Now every time he lays down and closes his eyes, all George can think of are warm arms around him. All he can see in his mind is that still blurry face and a mess of dark blonde hair. That wheezy laugh in his ear, the Hello, George that Dream will inevitably whisper, so close that his breath will brush past his skin and set George alight from inside out.

It's already driving George crazy, and he's still almost 7 thousand kilometres away.

 He packs his bag, and then pulls it apart while looking for a charger, and packs again, and again, and again, in a seemingly never-ending cycle of anxious fidgeting.

He starts planning three different videos at once and scrapes two of them once he's almost done.

He turns Twitter notifications off, and tries to keep his phone face down on the desk, but as the date creeps closer, it's getting harder and harder. Somehow, he seems to spend even more time talking to Dream, even if before it seemed almost impossible.

Despite his big words, Sapnap isn't actually upset. In fact, he's possibly just as excited as George, which he finds hilarious and annoying at once. And though Dream seems to agree with George, he doesn't try to calm neither of them down, instead just feeding the flames.

Surprisingly, the trio manage to keep the meetup plans from fans; that’s not to say that they don’t sense a new kind of tension between them. Every worried, questioning donation and tweet is hard to ignore, with the way George’s tongue itches with impatience.

For now, it feels too fragile, too private to share, at least until he plants his feet on the Florida soil, until he hears Dream laugh in real life and watches the way his face lights up in real time.

 And then, as if no time at all has passed, it's here.

 Tomorrow, Dream texts in lieu of goodnight. George flops over in his bed a few times, legs uncomfortably tangled in the sheets, bottom lip between his teeth.

Tomorrow, he answers, and it feels like a promise.

George curls his fingers around his phone, pushing it under the pillow, and then buries his face under it too, cheeks hot from the force of his smile.

That night is full of fitful, anxious sleep, and when George wakes, it’s with a start. He jumps up and stumbles out of bed in panic.

It's so quiet in the apartment—too quiet, too still, like the world itself has paused. His heart is racing as he scrambles through the sheets for his phone.

Did he oversleep? Did he miss the alarm? Did he even set an alarm? The memories of last night are hazy, and George thinks his heart will push out into his throat when his fingers finally brush against glass.

All breath rushes out of him when the screen turns on, a clear 6:41 AM on his lockscreen.

He's fine. The anxiety pulls back, leaving George's muscles weak and sleep-tired, so he slumps on the ruffled sheets.

Thought I overslept, almost had a heart attack, he sends to Dream, fully expecting him to laugh at his expense when he finally wakes up.

To George's surprise, the message gets read immediately.

I would’ve called you :), comes through, and before George can answer, Dream writes again.

I’ll have to call a cab for us. Haven’t slept since yesterday.

George huffs out an amused breath.

Would be a shame to kick the bucket right after meeting you, he replies and closes his eyes, placing the phone on his chest.

Now that the panic from before has subsided, another takes its place, slowly rising up and overtaking his pliant body like a tide.

There it is, the final dance, the last conversation where George can’t imagine the face behind the words; it’s just as frightening as it is thrilling. It’s bittersweet on his tongue, a piece of rotten fruit in his mouth.

He can’t help but wonder—what if it changes everything? What if it’s nothing like he expects? What if Dream realizes he can’t stand George when he can’t just leave the call?

George’s not a kid, he’s not all that naïve, and he’s well aware that people who work perfectly when there’s an ocean between them, can clash horribly once they share personal space. Life isn’t a fairy tale where everything works out perfectly, with a happy ending for everyone tied up in a neat bow.

His phone vibrates, scattering the restless thoughts, and George opens his eyes, pausing for a moment before finally lifting it.

At least I’d die a happy man.

He stares at his phone for a while, heart fluttering so hard, George barely manages to breathe in.

Perhaps he’s stupid enough to believe in good endings anyway.

 //

 Anxiety, however, smells like sweat and gasoline.

It didn’t always, but now George doesn’t think he could ever be in an airplane and not remember this day. Sitting in a packed airplane, left leg jumping up and down, fingers tightly gripping his elbows, as George stares through the window and waits for the plane to take off. Begging, pleading his mind to change gears, think of anything else but the upcoming moment.

A child whines behind him, some lady argues with the flight attendant, the doors close, the engine starts, and then UK is just a smear of colours underneath him.

He leans back and lets time and space run its course.

 The Orlando airport is a mess of sounds and lights that grate on George’s groggy mind as he slowly makes his way to the baggage claim. His phone is quiet, and he can’t help but keep glancing at it, knowing full well there’s no answer to his short I’m here.

Fear firmly grips his throat in a fist, a cruel voice whispering dreadful forecast, no matter how hard George tries to not listen.

He’ll take one look at you, and he’ll see, it promises as George waits for his suitcase to show up. He’ll figure it out, now that there’s no screen to hide behind. And he’ll be disgusted. He’ll ask you to leave.

Dream wouldn’t, George wants to argue; but then again. Just how well does he know Dream?

This is the first time he’ll see him, and they’ve known each other for years now. There could be a stranger behind the screen, one not as kind and wonderful as the Dream he’s used to. One that would—

“George?”

The all-too-familiar voice stops George in his tracks, and his muscles lock up, brain painfully blank as he worries his bottom lip.

Eventually, perhaps after way too long, George turns around.

And there he is.

 He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and blue jeans, just as promised, and his smile is so wide it takes up half of his face, and George can’t tear his gaze away from it. He knows he should be exploring the face that’s brand new to him, committing all the features to memory so even weeks later, they’d be perfect and fresh.

And yet, it’s those peach-pink lips he can’t stop staring at, like some stereotypical fool.

“Dream?” he whispers, though his feet don’t dare to move.

“I knew I should’ve worn something brighter,” Dream says. His voice is light, and happy, and he’s coming closer, and George can’t quite breathe in, his chest seized in an iron grip.

He wants to answer with a quip, a joke, the way he could when it was just the two of them in a Discord call, but he realizes any words would be followed by tears; and that’s just not the way to make a first impression.

So, George stays quiet and lets his suitcase drop when Dream wraps his arms around him.

Dream is so warm. The cotton of his shirt is soft underneath George’s palms. He smells like summer, like citrus fruit and the ocean, and George almost instinctively buries his nose in his shoulder.

Dream’s breath stutters near George’s ear.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, lips brushing over George’s skin and sending waves of heat and cold down to his toes.

“Me too,” he answers, and pulls his best friend even closer, feeling complete and safe for the first time in a long, long while. “Me too.”