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#but then i realized people probably dress up their chaos! small clothes exist!! and then i noticed he IS kinda sorta chao shaped
puppygirlpencil · 4 months
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I finished Unleashed :3 enjoyed it <3
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chocosvt · 4 years
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love café
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⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you. 
✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 
✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!
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It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.
You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.
But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?
Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.
Even if it meant going to the Love Café.
In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.
You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.
The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.
“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”
Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.
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Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.
“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”
“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”
“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”
At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.
You couldn’t believe he was here.
No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?
His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.
Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.
“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”
He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.
“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.
Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”
Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”
Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.
“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”
“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”
It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.
“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”
“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.
Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.
Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”
Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”
“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”
“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”
Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”
You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.
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To a degree, you were correct.
Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.
And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.
Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.
“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.
You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.
Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.
“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”
Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.
“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.
Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.
“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.
“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.
“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”
“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.
“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.
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One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.
Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.
Except, you needed access to a computer.
Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.
He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.
“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“And I didn’t expect to see you.”
He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”
You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”
“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”
At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.
“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”
“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”
“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”
Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.
“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”
“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.
Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.
In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.
While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.
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Tired. Aching.
Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.
An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.
Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.
Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”
The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.
Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But  this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.
Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.
“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”
He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.
“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”
Swallowing dryly, you nodded.
“Alright.”
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The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.
Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.
You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”
Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.
You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.
He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.
“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.
You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”
Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”
“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”
The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”
“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”
Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”
Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.
It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.
“It’s better than nothing, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”
“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”
“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”
“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.
At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”
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Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.
As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.
“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.
You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”
“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”
“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”
“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”
“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”
“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”
You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”
Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.
“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”
Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.
“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”
“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”
Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.
“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”
Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”
For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.
“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”
He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”
You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.
“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”
Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”
“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”
“The Shower what?”
He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”
When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.
But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.
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“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”
His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.
“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”
He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes,  as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.
“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”
Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.
“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”
“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”
Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.
“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”
You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.
“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"
At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.
“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.
He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”
“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”
He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.
“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.
Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.
“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.
“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.
He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”
“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”
“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.
“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.
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Twelve am.
Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.
However, tonight was different.
Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.
“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.
You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”
Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”
“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.
And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.
“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”
“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”
At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.
The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.
“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”
“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”
Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.
“I figured that.”
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Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.
After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.
“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”
Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.
“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”
You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.
“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.
It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.
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Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.
“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”
You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”
Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”
“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”
Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.
“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”
“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”
“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”
“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.
Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.
However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.
“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”
“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”
Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.
“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”
For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.
Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”
“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”
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It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.
You raised an eyebrow, “what?”
“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”
“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.
Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”
“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.
“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”
His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”
The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.
“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”
You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”
“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”
The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.
“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.
“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.
Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”
“The red velvet cake?”
“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”
“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”
“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”
He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”
While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.
“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.
As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.
You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”
He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”
The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.
“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.
Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.
“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.
You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.
Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.
“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”
Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.
Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.
“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”
“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”
The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”
Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.
“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.
You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.
“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”
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Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.
You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).
As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.
After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.
But you didn’t want to stop yourself.
In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.
[  9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but
[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?
Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.
[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.
Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.
However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.
And he was holding a drink.
You unlocked the door.
“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”
He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”
“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.
“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”
“You’re lucky that’s correct.”
Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.
“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”
“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”
“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.
He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”
“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”
Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”
“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”
Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.
“Later!” He’d called.
Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.
How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?
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Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.
Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.
“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”
With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.
Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.
After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”
“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.
Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”
Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.
His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.
“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”
“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.
And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.
Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.
“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.
The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.
“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”
He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.
The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.
“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.
“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”
You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.
Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.
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Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.
That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.
An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.
“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”
Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.
“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than  fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”
At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.
And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.
You told him you’d changed your mind.
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When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.
Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.
“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.
Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”
“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”
You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”
Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.
“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”
The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.
Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”
“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”
He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.
You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”
Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”
Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.
And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.
Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.
She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.
They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.
Joshua bumped your elbow.
“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”
With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”
“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.
He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.
Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.
“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.
The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”
You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”
“Just shush up and try this.”
He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.
Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”
After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.
“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”
“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.
“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”
Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”
“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.
At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.
His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.
“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was  able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.
“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”
You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.
Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.
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It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”
“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”
Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”
“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”
At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.
“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”
He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”
“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”
“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”
“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.
“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”
And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.
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You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.
It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.
Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.
Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.
On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.
“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”
“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.
Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.
But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.
After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.
“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”
For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”
Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout  sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.
“Well,”  you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"
“I love you.”
“… What?”
“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”
It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.
Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.
Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”
“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”
“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”
Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”
Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.
“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”
He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.
“I guess we do.”
You grabbed it politely.
Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”
“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.
As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.
“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”
You looked at your alarm clock.
“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”
Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.
“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”
Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.
No, you could not stay here.
Not when your future was with Jeonghan.
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✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!
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lovelybarnes · 3 years
Text
saudade- l. laufeyson
pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other loki characters warnings: loki tv show spoilers, probably tva inaccuracies, mobius being trusted even though i don’t actually trust him lol, mentions of death, tears, a little sad angst but happy ending, ooc characters?? possible mistakes because i can't read this again skjfj about: requested, DF26 with TVA Loki running into the variant of his dead spouse a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i loved writing the last scene so much
loki has narrowly avoided the tva for years, opportunities much better than this and chaos a lot more chaotic than this have already been caused and passed. so the how and why he has been taken in at this very moment- while he’s eating at one of those fast food places you used to like- is very, very unknown to him. he should know, however; you’ve explained to him the tired concept of time traveling many times before, although the most important things were told to him when he thought you a mere mortal like the rest- something you were not- and could not possibly know something he didn’t- also something very untrue.
but the reasoning for his capturing is not at the front of his mind- although close- his main objective staying on how to get out of this unknown place and go back to looking for you- whether the fragile fabrics of reality and string of the timeline fray and break or don’t. he knows it possible, having seen the avengers do something similar, so why can a god like him not?
he’s ripped many holes, and he supposes the consequences for them are finally catching up to him, a lot sooner than he’d like. in another world, he’d already have you, and, with you by his side, you both would’ve been out long before, or never captured at all. although, he supposes, in a perfect world, you never would have been taken away from him in the first place.
he knows stopping for food he didn’t even necessarily need- or, really, like- was not a smart decision. he’s realizing exactly how not-smart of a decision it was with every passing second that the fools in armor drag him along the halls. the stop wasn’t needed, much less planned, but the memories the greasy food and dirty restaurant brought were too pleasant- a break full of you in the nonstop mission to find you. he could nearly feel your fingers touching his, hear your voice urging him to at least try and your bubbled laugh when he cringes. the fizz of the soda had made him grimace like the first time, except there was no you to giggle at it.
loki nearly thinks it was worth it. nearly.
when the guard shoves him into another room, loki takes a second to examine the exits, barely noticing the man at the desk. the person next to him pushes him further, dropping the tesseract and various stolen pym particles on the desk. loki takes note of where the man puts them so he can steal them back.
the guard stops with him in front of a small elevator, pulling a lever and waiting. loki looks at them, “where am i? get me back right now, i have things i must attend to.” the guard only looks at him, and loki scoffs, “i am loki of asgard, god of mischief and trickery, believe me when i say there will be deadly consequences if you do not do what i ask.”
the guard huffs a small laugh, “i’ve heard that before. we’ll see.”
the doors in front of him part, opening to a room he’s rammed into. he looks back the guard, one foot already out when he’s suddenly back where he was, watching as the entrance closes. he senses the machine before he can have a good look at it, a claw that he’s seen too many variations of beginning to poke at the fabric on his shoulders. he swats it away, standing tall as he glares at the smiling machine. “absolutely not! this is high tech armor, only few of this exists.”
the tech on the machine turns the grin into a frown, pulling back the talons and instead extending another apparatus that scans at his clothing, removing them with a yellow glow until he’s completely bare. he looks down at himself before looking back up at the face, pointing a finger, “now what-”
his words are cut off when he falls through the opening ground, falling onto the bottom room, now dressed in an uncomfortable tan jumpsuit, orange letters reading TVA on the left breast. a bored man in front of him pushes a pile of papers to him, “please sign to verify this is everything you’ve ever said.”
loki ignores his words, pushing it back, “i need to find someone, stop the absurdity.” the man only blinks as a machine whirrs, printing a piece of paper he reaches over to take and place on top of the pile. he hands loki a pen, “sign that too.” loki frowns, “did you not hear me? i have important things to do.” the machine does it again, and the man repeats his motions and shakes the pen in his hand. “that, too.” the god only sighs in frustration and signs, slamming the pen down before he’s dropped again.
another man greets him in a monotone, not even looking at him while he reads off the clipboard in his hands, “please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.” loki’s eyebrows furrow, “i’m not a robot- how many people don’t know?”
“thank you for confirming, move through,” he requests. loki glances at the machine in front of him before stepping through it, a small picture printing after he’s on the other side. loki catches vibrant orange and red with hints of green that overcome any other color. “through the door, please.”
-
he encounters the same guard from before with a frustrated glare, leading him to what looks like a courtroom, a woman sitting in the middle, reading off a file. “variant L4293, aka loki laufeyson-l/n, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. how do you plead?” loki tilts his head at her, “madam, a god- i don’t plead.”
the woman sighs tiredly, “are you guilty or not guilty?” loki’s eyes thin as he observes her. “guilty of… trying to find my wife, yes. guilty of being extremely frustrated, yes. guilty of whatever it is you’re accusing me of, no. not guilty.” loki’s hand curls, trying to use his abilities inconspicuously but dismayed to not be able to. he tries again, only to come up empty as he realizes what is happening. “magic powers are no good in the tva, mister laufeyson,” the judge says absentmindedly. “i prefer l/n,” loki diverts simply, unknowingly catching the attention of one of the attendees. the judge barely acknowledges him, about to say something else before a man jumps up, hand raised, “wait, wait- uh, i have something to add to this. before the court makes a decision.”
the judge tilts her head at the man, pursing her lips before sighing and letting him approach the bench. loki leans in to try to understand the whispers that are exchanged, ending in the judge sending one last look his way before letting him go. “the court finds you innocent- and under agent mobius’ responsibility,” she clarifies, looking at the man and watching him nod quickly. she slams her gavel and motions for the man- mobius, he assumes, to take loki. he stands and awkwardly bows, before going over to loki and raising an eyebrow, “don’t betray me,” he says, words too true to be something playful. loki’s head tilts to the side in slight confusion, watching as the man begins to walk, pausing to urge loki to follow him.
loki ignores the activity through the windows of the hall, choosing to concentrate on mobius. “why did you do that?” he wonders aloud, suspicious eyes following him as his head peeks into halls. “let’s just say it’s a favor, although you’ll be on thin ice forever.”
“favor for whom?” mobius doesn’t answer, turning a corner. loki exhales sharply before following him, continuing to pry as he briefly heeds his surroundings. the sight of a woman in a suit much like mobius’ catches his eye, her back to him but he recognizes the shape of her shoulder and the color of her hair. he looks away, pretending to concentrate on the clock thing on the television but actually chasing the overfamiliar features to a face.
the sound of your voice- something he hasn’t heard in an obscenely long time- craved for so much longer it seems like a lifetime, snaps his attention to what surely must be a cruel joke. he can tell it’s you now. you’re standing there, head tilted at the same receptionist man and chuckling exasperatedly, “come on, casey, we’ve been over this. a fish and a lion are not the same thing-”
“but a lionfish-?” casey asks, and loki is pushing away the guards already, because you’re there, you’re solid and laughing like you used to and you can’t not be real. he can distantly hear mobius’ voice telling the guards to let him go as if loki hasn’t already taken care of that, walking over to you with quick and quiet footsteps. his fingers circle around your wrist first as an assurance, and when you turn, hand still in his, eyes widening when you notice who he is, he pulls you into him completely. your arms wrap around him barely seconds later, finally registering the person in front of you as you squeeze him. “loki?” you whisper, inhaling the same familiar scent of him that you haven’t had in what seems like forever.
“i missed you so much,” he says, hands wandering over your back, touching your arms and your shoulders and your hips just to touch you. “me too- i didn’t- i thought i would never see you again.” your tears are falling on the fabric of his jumpsuit, small tearful gasps escaping your lips while you tug him as close as you can, tangling your fingers in his hair and shutting your eyes at the familiar feeling. “oh god, you’re here-”
“i missed you so much,” he repeats, and you finally notice his words, realization like electricity, making you tremble and sigh softly. “what does that mean?” you question, already fearing the answer and already knowing the effects: the mess of his usually kept hair and the red tint of his eyes, like a sheen of sadness that stains the color of the eyes you have missed for so long. loki pulls away from you only to look at your face, trace the shape of the lips he’d spent hours of the morning pressing kisses to, memorize the curve of the nose you’d scrunch in a laugh when thor was a victim to one of his tricks.
“i have been looking for you, darling,” he murmurs, fingers running over your fallen tears while you notice the shine of his eyes, the tears that enhance the love he has for you. “because i’m…” you don’t want to finish your sentence, and you can tell loki doesn’t want you to either; he scans your features, small smile peeking through the shock and grief.
“i didn’t… mobius didn’t show me that, i thought-” your eyes flicker to the man before settling back on loki, the weight of the ring he’d given you feeling lighter now that it had found its pair. the various eyes on you don’t go unnoticed, and neither does the look mobius sends to the rest of the workers, indicating for them to go back to work. the cold of loki’s skin is comforting to the touch of your warmth, and you find yourself back in the summer afternoons where you would settle with your husband to read books, rubbing cool fingers on the hot of your skin when you felt suffocated by the heat of the sun.
another tear slips from your eyes when you realize you don’t have to imagine anymore, there’s no need to search for your memories and shut your eyes for them to run over you. your lips are on his when you can’t help it anymore, eyes squeezed close and salty tears dropping from your chin when it finally settles that he’s here and he’s yours and he’ll never be gone again.
he’ll make sure of that.
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folkloreguk · 3 years
Text
Shower Thoughts
A/N: I like writing about personal emotions a lot…this feels a little like writing a diary but also like self-therapy and it really helps me. I hope anyone who also feels this way knows that they’re not alone with those feelings. Also happy birthday to the sweetest @sunghoonied!! I wrote this thinking of you and I hope you have the best day ♡ PS. I didn't proofread this so if you find errors kindly lmk please! x
genre: optional bias (male), meant to comfort you, angst, fluff, talk of loneliness / anxiety but with a good ending!
words: ~ 2.5 k
taglist: @lovely-ateez, @mochi-ficz, @soundsofminho, @runaway-fics
People said that walking was supposed to clear your mind. But then why was it, that you had gotten so lost in your worst thoughts out there? The time spent in fresh air was meant to let your mind wander to calm places and smiling at strangers should have made you feel less lonely. But with every step you took and with every passing face your body felt heavier. Not only did you carry your figure, but the crushing burden that had been nagging at you for weeks.
Watching others stroll around the streets seemed so easy. And perhaps it should have been easy, after all. It made you wonder, maybe you were the only one whose mind was constantly covered in dark rain clouds. Maybe everyone had their place in the world, and they knew just where and with whom they belonged. Surely, they didn’t overthink every conversation they had with a random stranger. Did their brain also function merely on autopilot in public, while the back of your mind was chaos of doubt and fear? Was there anybody else who spent day to day worrying about never finding someone who could deal with the burden of you and your issues? How was somebody else going to love you if you were this sad?
Those people that care about you are the ones you should be honest with, after all. There was no brushing off the How Are You question with a quick “I’m fine”. How could someone deal with the real answer you would give? You didn’t want to pull anybody down with you when you were hurting. So then again, maybe it was for the better your apartment was always empty when you came home. With no one to ask you about your feelings, you couldn’t cause anyone else agony and worry. Your own pain was enough – one person was enough to deal with it.
You shoved your shoes in the corner next to your door. If it wasn’t for your mental state, you would’ve guessed your jacket was a hundred kilos heavy. But even after you had peeled it off, nothing changed. You dragged your body to the bathroom.
You’d be so proud if only you could go one day without crying. And you had almost made it, had it not been for the godforsaken shower water. There was something about seeing the droplets on your skin and on the tiles that caused your tears to come out freely. The noise of the shower made you feel shut off from the rest of the world. Now it was just you and your salty ocean tears. The tears united with the shower water. It was hard to tell which drops on your cheek had originated in your swollen eyes and which had fallen from the shower head. This way, it seemed almost as if there was an invisible force that was wiping over your face, trying to appease your sobs.
But there was nobody. And that was why you only cried harder. If only you had listened to your own words when you tried to cheer yourself up. Then maybe you would feel better when you wrapped your arms around your own body. You were desperate. The notion that someone could hold you like this, one day, should have gifted you at least some form of hope. But no, you knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. Not with this mindset and your sadness.
You hiccupped helplessly. This was all so tiring. Before you knew it, you sat down on the shower floor under the hot stream. At least there was no one waiting to get into the shower after you. So you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about blocking the bathroom and wasting all the hot water. For a few minutes you remained on the floor, drowning out your cries under the splashing sound. You felt the impulse to scream. Look, I’m here! I’m a person with interests and passions and emotions! Doesn’t anybody see me? I’m sick of only existing! Won’t somebody teach me how to live?
But at most, that would cause you a noise complaint. If only you weren’t so terrible at talking to people. Maybe you could make a friend someday – when your anxiety got better. Like in a trance, you finally switched off the water and grabbed your towel. You were so utterly lost in your thoughts, that everything went by as if you were only watching from the sidelines. You got out of the shower, dried off, put on some body lotion – an attempt at self-care – and got dressed in the most comfortable, baggy clothes you owned.
What on earth would you do tonight? There really were only so many ways you could have fun (or rather distract yourself from feeling down) when you were all by yourself and everything reminded you of how lonely you were. The option of just going to sleep slipped past you. But you weren’t tired enough. You knew you’d lie awake for hours, left alone with your thoughts. And crying yourself to sleep was the last thing you wanted right now.
So you opted for the most mainstream idea: Netflix. You plopped down on the sofa, a steaming hot cup of tea on the small table in front of you. Now you only had one thing left to do. You needed to choose some stupid show and let the problems of tv characters invade your brain and pray they would shove out your own issues. You weren’t even hungry. Although there was a part of you that wished it could have eaten your weight in chocolate, but you knew that had little to do with hunger.
Just as you reached for the remote control, the sound of your doorbell made you jump. I’ll just let it be. They’ll think I’m not home and leave. Those thoughts came right away. It made you curse yourself. You had just cried over feeling alone, but now you’re shutting out some random neighbor who probably just needs some tiny favor from you. Way to go. So, more to prove a point to yourself than to be friendly, you stepped to your door and opened it.
“Hi.” It was your neighbor. Your handsome, kind neighbor, who you always met at the local grocery store. You were so mentally exhausted you didn’t even feel self-conscious about looking the way you did. Although you hoped your eyes had recovered from the redness, at least a little. “Hi,” you greeted him back.
“Look, I really don’t want to be intrusive. And if you want me to leave, I will,” he said. He fumbled with his hands, as if he was nervous about his words. “But I kind of heard you…cry…in the shower. And I know you live alone, and I figured if you’re crying you probably don’t have any company. I guess I just wanted to check whether you’re okay. Do you have someone to talk to?”
With every word your heart only sped up. You felt like a trapped rabbit in a corner and the meaning of his message only sunk in slowly. Yes, of course. I’ll call my friend and talk to them,you wanted to say. But that would have been a massive lie. And you just couldn’t lie to him. Not when he stood there, in his fuzzy sweater and fresh-out-the-shower damp hair, with eyes so worried and attentive. You weren’t sure if it was from how touched you were by his concern for you, or if it was your sadness catching up to you again. Before you could swallow your tears, your eyes filled to the brim and your vision turned blurry.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, not sure what for. Hurriedly, you used your sweater paw to wipe your leaking eyes. You didn’t want him to feel bad for you, but now you had achieved just that and more. Your embarrassment set in and you finally came out with the truth. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”
“No need to be sorry. It’s alright. We all have those days, don’t we? I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And I have nothing to do…so if you need someone to talk to, or even just to keep you company…I can stay with you for a bit…or you can come over to mine. I just don’t want you to feel alone. But if you would prefer to be by yourself, that’s okay. People deal with things differently.”
You were so baffled that your ability to speak completely fell through. The idea of someone, an almost-stranger, going so out of their way to make sure you were okay blew you away. He knew nothing about you. But here he was, taking a chance on you, nonetheless. Only then you realized you probably looked like a fool, staring at him but failing to answer. Quickly, you prompted yourself to open your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.
“What were you doing just now?” he asked. “Any plans for the evening?”
“I was going to watch a movie, I guess,” you said. “And I think some company would be very nice.”
He smiled at you like was your childhood best friend and you had just reconnected after years of being apart. That’s why it felt the more natural to let him enter your apartment. You got into small talk about what it was like living in the building and how his apartment had a mirrored structure to yours. The simplest conversation took your mind off your sorrow right away. You felt like thanking him would be a little dramatic after he had barely settled on your sofa, so you kept it to yourself. Either way, the small smile on your face felt like warm, soothing sunlight on your skin after eight consecutive days of rain.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked. You thought for a moment.
“No, I think I’d rather just distract myself,” you said. Even though you were grateful for having him here, you feared if you spilled your guts to him you would only scare him away.
“Alright,” he said without judgement. “What film were you planning on watching?”
And so you started your movie. There was a respectful distance between you on the sofa. But his simple presence next to you was more than you could have asked for tonight. He was like a heater, providing safety and comfort in the coldest winter. Hearing someone else chuckle at the jokes in the movie along with you was magnificent. His laughter sounded like a rainbow. It seeped into your body and your soul straightened up and bloomed like a parched flower being watered after all this loneliness.
But even under all the light, your problems were still here, waiting to nag at you. You knew they would consume you when he returned to his own apartment later. They would laugh at you for trying to socialize but staying closed off as always. Just because someone saw you didn’t mean they understood you and who you are. And how was one supposed to make human connections if they treated their thoughts like strictly confidential information in front of everybody? No, you had to tell him.Impulsively, you pressed the stop-button on the remote. He shot you a questioning gaze.
“I- I think maybe I do want to talk about something,” you confessed.
“You can tell me anything. I promise it’ll be safe with me. Let out whatever bothers you,” he said. His lovely, warm eyes were inviting like a haven for you. So you just started to talk. All your frustrations and reasons for anxiety were exiting your lips, floating all around you in the room. Airing out your weary brain finally, after holding everything in for weeks, was uncaging and nothing had felt this good in so long. Although your sadness wasn’t something that could be fixed by doing a task, the more thoughts and worries you explained to him, the easier it became. It wasn’t long before you felt your tears well up once more.
“It’s okay,” he said with his hand on your shoulder. This time, you didn’t try so hard to blink them away. Where there were emotions, there were tears, and he was right. It was fine to let them out. Through sniffles you finished telling him your issues.
“Is this okay?” he asked, gently putting his arm around your shoulder to hold your shaking figure. You hummed and nodded in agreement. His warmth was like a blanket to shelter you from the anxiety, if even just for a short while.
“I don’t expect you to know a solution,” you said. “I need to wait for it to get better. It’ll get better, eventually.”
“You’re right. It will all resolve,” he said. “I’m sorry things are so difficult. But you’re not alone, okay?”
You nodded again.
“Time will heal, I promise,” he said. “And until then, you have to hold on and keep going. The world’s a little cruel sometimes, when it shuts out the ones who struggle and don’t do as well as others. But you’re as much of a part of it as any other human on the street. And you’re just as important as them. You weren’t born to be successful or to achieve things. You’re here to live and be happy. So promise me to take care of yourself, and be gentle to yourself. Because you’re the only person that will be with yourself every second until the end. Please don’t be hard on yourself and have patience for good things to come around. And if it all feels like it’s too much for you, don’t feel guilty about reaching out for help. You can always ring my doorbell if you need something.”
“Thank you so much,” you cried. Your cheek rested on his shoulder and you sat in silence for a while. It was unbelievable which wonders such a small conversation between two people could do. Your heart felt lighter and the thoughts were no longer racing through your head. Peace was settling in, and you welcomed it more than ever.
“Now that I’ve told you about me, what kind of person are you?” you asked through tears. He chuckled a little. All you knew until now was that he had a heart of gold. Which, to be fair, meant your impression of him was off to a pretty good start already. Your thoughts were cautious as you wondered…Maybe he could be my friend.
You abandoned the movie. Instead, you spent all evening chatting about whatever came to your mind. You discussed childhood dreams, favorite dishes, your best playlists down to the cutes dog breeds you had ever seen. It felt great, getting to know somebody. And your suspicions came true. His big heart wasn’t the only thing admirable about him. He was funny and knew just what to say when you felt awkward or shy. When you slipped into bed that night, you did so with a smile on your face. You had always told yourself that you weren’t alone. But sometimes, the most optimistic person needed a small reminder coming from somebody else. Here was yours.
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imissjoongsmullet · 3 years
Text
My Prince (6 - final)
Pairing: Minghao x reader
Genre: fluff/(angst)
Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill
Word Count: 6.5K
Author’s Note:
This final chapter finally fulfills the premise that this is in fact fluff. I promise I’m done breaking your hearts now, woohoo!
My Prince has grown so near and dear to my heart. I don’t usually write long fanfics so this was really quite special. I know I might sound overly dramatic or corny to some of you (and that’s okay). It’s just, I try to be intentional with everything I do. That’s why I wanted to do this right. That’s why I’ve gotten so attached. That’s why it’s taken me forever to finish as well probably haha!
This story is far from perfect. There are countless things that I would have liked to sculpt out more... but I think for that to have happened this would have to become a full on novel and that’s not what this was ever meant to be, so I’ve got to let go of those thoughts and just send it out into the world as it is.
In any case, I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. As always, please let me know what you think. As a writer, any type of feedback makes my heart flutter~
Thank you for all the love and support ♥
You fell to the floor, your shriek buried in the chaos that surrounded you. There was so much noise so suddenly and none of it sounded good. Panicked, you raised your head to see the entrance to the room had been broken wide open and soldiers in silver and black attire were pouring in, brandishing swords, fire and crossbows. Yientan. Another cry left your lips as you scrambled backwards until you hit the wall behind you. They were here. They must have found out about the wedding and wanted to stop it before a legend could take away their power.
Strong hands grabbed you by the collar and you screamed out for help. You struggled in your attempt to pry the stranger off of you until you noticed the face that belonged to it.
“Come on!” Minghao ordered, dragging you up. He took your hand and set off at a sprint, leaving behind the bulk of the commotion. You could hear banging and screaming from other directions as well though. They must have the whole castle surrounded. Luckily Minghao knew all the secret, little passages attackers tended to overlook. It didn’t take long for you to realize where he was taking you. Before you could come to your senses, you were dragged through the heavy doors to Minghao’s private chambers and sat onto his bed.
“Stay here,” he said, kneeling at your side, clasping your palms in your lap, “don’t leave until it’s all over.” He got up and turned to leave.
“Wait!” you called, stopping him midway, “you can’t go out there!”
“I have to,” he replied stone faced.
“No!” Now it was you holding onto him. “Please don’t—” Your fingers dug into his robes with desperation.
“I have a responsibility,” he said, “I have to go—”
“Then I’m coming too,” you cut in but he shook his head.
“You can’t help,” he explained, “I can so I’m going.” He eyed you sternly for a few more seconds before softening. He sighed, brushing his hand over your cheek lovingly and finally saying, “do not follow me.”
“Hao, please,” you called as he pulled away. You ran to him just in time to keep him from shutting the door behind him entirely. Only a sliver of his face was visible in the gap.
“Stay safe,” he said, before vanishing.
In stunned silence you let the doors fall shut. You walked over to the bed and sat down because your legs felt shaky and your head dizzyingly light. Outside, the uproar continued to grow but Minghao had told you to stay. Your heart ached. It pulled and tugged at you, trying to get you to move but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to disappoint him. Your fingers wrapped around one of the silk pillows on his bed. Closing your eyes, you hugged the thing close. It was all you could do not to cry. You just wanted everything to be okay— for everything to go back to normal. But you supposed none of Minghao’s life had ever really been normal.
A loud crashing sound made you jump. Some large piece of glass must have just shattered somewhere. You got up from the bed and began to pace the room. You clamped your hands over your ears in a miserable attempt to shut out the madness. Shutting your eyes didn’t help either. The itch to do something was growing unbearable. When a few minutes later a crack so deep it was like walls crumbling made the wooden floor tremble, you decided that enough was enough.
Head in overdrive, you went for the window. Its balcony was wide and looked out over the east side of the gardens. Tonight, there were only balls of fire within the dark. With a sickening lurch, you thought of your parents. Had they managed to hide or escape? Or had the attackers set flame to their house while they slept, trapping them in an excruciating death? Panicking, you went for the balcony ledge. Once your feet found balance, you grabbed onto the ornate pillars and started to climb. The plan seemed insane and yet, somehow you felt like the adventurous prince had definitely made this climb before. With that information fueling your confidence, you made it onto the roof above the prince’s chambers.
From here, you could see most of the castle and its grounds. A landscape of hills and valleys lay before you in the form of various curved rooftops. It would have been quite beautiful if it hadn’t been for the screams and the fire. You didn’t know what you were doing, really. You just wanted to know everything was going to be alright. Besides, you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Minghao while you hid away like a coward.
How many people were fighting down there? How much of a chance did they stand against Yientan? And what could Minghao possibly do in all this? You didn’t even know if he knew how to fight.
Hunching down to a crouch, you made your way toward the center part of the castle. You looked down wherever you could, trying to get a feel of the situation. You saw two servant girls running on a deck as they cried. You saw men fighting in little courtyards, blood staining their clothes. You saw the wooden walkway towards the prince’s library collapse in flames. All of this roused an anger in you that surprised you. You’d never been the bravest of people— you still weren’t. But something was taking over you. It didn’t matter that this castle had been the bane of your existence for the past few months. The castle was under attack and you felt it as you’d feel an attack on your own family. You jumped from roof to roof, wracking your brain over a way to help.
Something sharp whooshed past you and you gasped. You were just in time to turn around and see the Yientan soldier standing on a nearby rooftop, reaching for another arrow. You ducked away towards a lower part of the roof, suddenly feeling the sharp sting on your cheek. There were hurried footsteps behind you and you were running out of options. Your rooftopped landscape came to an end as you happened upon the center courtyard of the castle, where more soldiers fought.
Hoping fiercely you weren’t making the wrong decision, you jumped.
The landing was harsh and you failed to stifle the noise that fought to come out your mouth. A man dressed in silver and black turned your way.
Wasting no time, hopped onto the deck and dashed into the nearest corridor, running as fast as you could in your clumsy servant’s robes. You were disoriented and scared but also determent to outrun the soldier. The long hallways of the castle once again felt like a devious maze, trying to suffocate you. You turned a corner and half-fell-half-jumped down a narrow flight of stairs. Ignoring the sting in your left leg, you rushed along a half open deck, ducked under a low archway that lead you down to the underbelly of the castle. Here, it was pitch black except for the spaced out torch light that hung from the walls. Luckily, you knew where you were going. This lowest level of the castle was used for storage and servant work deemed too dirty to be looked upon by the masters. You took a right through a small door, finding yourself in one of the washrooms the servants used. Just as the soldier’s feet hit the wood floor behind you, you opened one of the closets and grabbed as many fresh sheets as you possibly could, throwing them over him. You watched him struggle for only the fraction of a second before escaping through a side door. You knew exactly where to hide.
You reached your destination within a minute, lowering yourself into a little crawlspace underneath the floorboards of the broom closet servants used to hide from Tou Ma when she was angry. You’d only have to wait a few minutes for the soldier to give up and leave and then you’d be safe. You were about to close up the floorboards when you heard the most dreadful sound in the world.
It was Minghao. He was screaming.
Without a second thought, you burst back into the corridor. You followed the echo of the scream in your mind. It wasn’t far off. It was right here, under the castle. You tried every door, finding deserted room after deserted room, wondering why Minghao was even here, hidden away from all the commotion.
Aside from the soldier that had followed you down, you hadn’t seen a single person down this low. Perhaps you’d imagined it, you thought, just as you slid through another open door you knew lead to the pantry.
The most shocking thing was not that Minghao was there; it was that the emperor of Namin was there too.
Minghao was knelt over his father’s form, shuddering slightly.
“Hao,” you whispered as you approached, an awkward feeling settling in your stomach. Something was very wrong. Tentatively, you knelt down beside the prince, gasping when you saw the blood. Panicked, you looked down, now noticing the dark trail on the floorboards.
“What— what happened?” you stammered. Minghao hadn’t acknowledged you yet. He was doubled over, tears falling down onto his father’s chest.
“Don’t leave me.” His voice was so thick with emotion the words were barely audible.
You knew the emperor wouldn’t reply.
“Please, father,” Minghao whimpered.
You’d never seen him like this; torn apart like an old book. Afraid of making things worse, you sat by and waited. The war outside didn’t matter now. You allowed his sobs to turn to quiet slowly.
When they had, Minghao straightened his back and looked at you. His face was red and blotchy. The pain in his eyes made you want to wrap your heart around him.
“He got shot,” he said at last. His hand reached out for yours and you took it, surprised at the tightness of his fingers around you.
“I found him back in the celebration hall I— I didn’t know what to do. I just knew I couldn’t let Yientan have him so I tried to find a place to hide him but by the time I got here he was barely breathing and—” fresh tears burned in his eyes, “he just— I can’t do this without him I can’t—”
“Hao— ” you started just as a creak in the floorboards made you both jump.
Over a dozen people shuffled into the room, each person looking more perplexed than the next at the sight of Minghao and the emperor. You blinked in surprise at the appearances of the Zhong family, a bit battered and stunned-looking but otherwise fine. Last to enter the room was Tou Ma. Her face paint had smudged, there was blood at her temple and her robe was ripped at the sleeve.
“Stay back, girls,” she said with a voice just as stern as ever before coming over. Her face turned grim the moment she got on her knees and took in the sight. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared and her thin lips parted. She took a few moments to regain her calm. Gently, she flattened out a crinkle in her robe as she cleared her voice at last.
“My prince,” she spoke solemnly, “from the heart of Namin, I offer my deepest condolences.”
Minghao continued to stare down at his father’s chest.
“Tomorrow we mourn the end of the era— tonight—” she paused, her wrinkles tugging into a frown, “tonight lies in your hands.”
The words hung in the dusty storage room air, settling over the people within it, slowly, like bits of falling snow.
“My prince?” Tou Ma said and her voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.
Minghao hadn’t moved an inch. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking either.
Strands of messed up hair hung in front of his face as he looked down at the emperor. You knew Minghao understood what Tou Ma had implied. Now that the emperor was dead, Minghao was automatically in charge. It was time for him to fulfill his prophecy and become the legend he was destined to be. Except that Tou Ma hadn’t said it like that exactly. She’d left the decision up to him. Tonight lies in your hands. Somehow, you felt like the head servant understood the pressure that weighed on the prince. She’d left the course of action open so that, should he choose to do so, Minghao could hide away with the rest of the castle’s residents. Should he choose to do so, he could surrender to Yientan. It was up to Minghao to decide his fate, not some legend assigned at birth.
Finally, Minghao looked up at Tou Ma.
“My mother,” he said, “is she safe?”
“Of course, my prince,” Tou Ma replied at once, “she was my first priority. I sent her through the royal passage behind the west room tapestry before bringing others to safety. She must have reached the safe house by now.”
Minghao nodded. “Thank you.” He sat there, thinking for a few more seconds before he stood up.
“I’m going out there. Everyone else stay here.” His voice was monotone, matter-of-fact. “I have to speak to the emperor of Yientan and put a stop to this.”
No one spoke as he turned to leave the room. Even you were too shocked to speak. It was only after he’d left the room that you found the strength to move.
“Silly girl,” Tou Ma said, her voice sharp once more as she grabbed hold of your wrist, “this is the last time I tell you to stay away from him.”
You looked the head servant dead in the eye.
“Then this will be the last time I defy you,” you answered, breaking free from her grasp and running out of the room.
You caught up with Minghao halfway up the stairs. You tugged at his sleeve and called his name, softly, inquiringly. He looked back at you, looking apologetic.
“I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he said quietly, “you’re already hurt.” His eyes went to your cheek, where the sting of the arrow still lingered.
You sighed. “And I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.” You took his hand. “Hao, please,” you went on, “whatever happens, let’s do it together.”
Slowly, a smile formed on the new emperor’s lips. It failed to erase the pain in his reddened eyes but rather coated them in a temporary haze. His fingers tightened around yours and he whispered, “okay.”
*
“Where are we going?” you asked as you tiptoed through the castle, slipping from shadow to shadow.
“I know where he is,” Minghao replied.
You knew he was talking about the emperor of Yientan. You had no idea what he looked like but you’d overheard plenty of conversations about him during your time in the castle. He was a fierce ruler and a strong man of combat.
“Wait, you’re not going to fight him, are you?”
“No,” he replied, “I’m going to talk to him.”
The throne room looked smaller than usual. A pillar had fallen, dust and debris littered the usually shiny hardwood and on the golden throne sat, not Xu Yilan, but a younger-looking man. He was broad-shouldered and his dark hair fell in a single braid down to his waist. His black and silver armor was still spotless aside from the couple droplets of red that had splashed onto his chest. You almost couldn’t believe he was an emperor and not a war general. Xu Yilan had surely never fought like this. Judging by the tenacity in his eyes, he was enjoying this. Upon noticing Minghao he raised himself from the throne, eyes narrowing.
“Emperor Wu,” Minghao spoke up as he walked to the center of the room.
You decided to stay in the shadows for now. It was better for the Yientan leader not to know a second person was in the room.
“My father, Xu Yilan, is dead by your men’s hands.”
You had no idea how Minghao was keeping his emotions at bay but it was clearly a good thing. The man on the platform drew back, his eyes going wide.
“You,” he said in a gravely voice, “you are Xu Minghao?” He spoke loud and clear but was unable to hide his uneasiness. It was in the way he stood, overly square, and in the stark way his eyes stared ahead.
“I am,” Minghao said, “and I want you to listen to me for a moment.”
Silence. This was good. 
“I do not want to fight you,” he went on, “I just want to talk. I want to restore the balance between Namin and Yientan.” He took a deep breath. “I want Yientan to give us back the highlands.”
A low yet booming laughter filled the empty throne room.
“You expect us to just give you back the highlands?” the emperor scoffed, “and what will Yientan receive in return?”
You watched Minghao as a silence trickled into the air. He was completely still, his mind probably racing like a warhorse.
“In return,” he said at last, his voice deep yet clear, “Yientan will be spared the dragon’s wrath.”
You could see the fear spring into the emperor’s eyes.
“You lie, young man,” he said, though it was obvious Minghao’s words had derailed him a bit. Slowly, the man unsheathed a long sword and pointed it at Minghao.
“There is no dragon,” he spat, starting to walk down the platform, “where is your dragon now, huh? Did it come when our people charged your gates? No, it did not.”
Minghao’s chest heaved but he stood his ground. You couldn’t understand how he stayed so calm. He had nothing to defend himself with.
“Did it come when your father was struck down by one of my men?” emperor Wu continued as he approached, “it did not.”
This was all wrong, you thought, panic taking over you.
“Up on the roof of this broken palace, a golden dragon stands, yes,” the emperor said, a wicked smile spreading onto his lips. He was getting too close.
“It is nothing but a symbol of wealth, a meaningless decoration!”
Minghao stood as a statue, defiant.
“It could not save your father, nor your people,” he grinned, “and it surely won’t save you.”
“Stop!” you screamed, breaking away from your hiding spot. Both men turned their heads in surprise, a moment you took to jump in between them, arms out, shielding Minghao from his attacker.
“Don’t hurt him, please!” you cried. You knew you were making foolish decisions but there wasn’t a single cell in your body capable of doing anything else in that moment.
Pain shot through your arm as general Wu grabbed hold of you.
“No!” Minghao yelled, immediately jumping for the general’s second arm in an attempt to tear the sword from his grasp. Your head spun as you were tugged around, the three of you in an awkward tangle until you heard a gasp that could only be Minghao’s. You watched him fall to the floor, clutching his side, where the fabric of his shirt started to color red.
You wanted to scream but before any sound had the chance to leave your lips, the whole room began to shake.
Emperor Wu backed towards the wall, dragging you with him and that’s when you heard it. An ear-piercing cry coming from somewhere up above. The ceiling cracked and gave away right where Minghao crouched. You cried out his name in a desperate attempt to save him when you realized the falling debris wasn’t crushing him. Instead, it turned to dust mid-fall, scattering over the floor like sand on a windy day.
Emperor Wu gave a startled shriek behind you. A massive creature burst through the broken ceiling with another deafening cry. It looked like a giant, glimmering snake with horns. Its fanged mouth was the size of two grown men and its golden scales reflected the devastation in the room. It curled itself around Minhao, who was still on hands and knees on the floor, obscuring him from view. “It— it’s— it can’t be!” the man behind you stuttered, shivering all over. You took the opportunity to yank yourself from his grasp.
The dragon let out a large huff and steam released from its dinner-plate-sized nostrils. You couldn’t help but feel a trickle of fear pulse through you as you approached the beast. But you had to trust.
The dragon’s body uncurled once more, revealing Minghao. He was standing; even more, he looked revitalized. A determent look had taken over his face. He stepped in front of the dragon and addressed the cowering emperor.
“As I said before,” he said, his voice strong and demanding now, “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want this war. Yientan and Namin can live in peace. Even better, we can make each other stronger.” He glanced at you and his eyes filled with warmth. “I know we are different but Namin will no longer fear those differences. It is by cooperating that we will learn and grow—”
The emperor scoffed. “And to achieve this peace of yours,” he grumbled, “I assume you want the highlands back?”
“They belong to Namin,” Minhao replied calmly.
“And what’s next?” emperor Wu went on, his pitch rising, “you’ll invade us with your big dragon protector and we’ll have to give up everything?!”
“No.” Minghao shook his head. “Namin doesn’t need any more. Just the highlands and harmony with Yientan. If you promise me these things, emperor Wu, this dragon will never be used for violence. It too can be a symbol of peace.”
The emperor of Yientan stood there, fighting a fight within himself. All you could do was wait. Minghao didn’t look scared anymore though. The dragon had taken his fear. The cold mask had vanished as well, leaving his eyes exactly the way you remembered them from years ago; kind, curious, inviting. Years of pressure had fallen off of his shoulders, allowing him to stand up straight and confident.
His gaze went to you for a moment and he reached out his hand.
Heart swelling with joy, you took it, feeling more than ever before, like you belonged.
Emperor Wu observed all of this with pain in his eyes. You still had no idea what the man was thinking but you felt safer now, so close to Minghao.
“Alright,” he said finally, starting to walk towards you, “you win, little emperor.” He shook his head in defeat. “You’ve still got a lot to learn about ruling and, mark my words, you will regret the things you’ve said today— all this talk about peace and harmony—” he stopped just a couple feet away from Minghao, “but at least for now, Yientan will bow to Namin.” He bent over into a ninety degree bow and Minghao let show just the tiniest smile. He was proud— and he should have been. You squeezed into his hand and felt him squeeze back when, all of a sudden, a lot of things happened.
Emperor Wu raised himself, drawing from a loop in his belt a tiny dagger and driving it into Minghao’s chest. At the same time, the dragon behind you let out a magnificent roar as it charged at Yientan’s emperor, knocking the breath right out of his lungs. All this time, you stood, frozen to the spot in complete and utter shock.
When you felt Minhao’s hand slip from yours, you cried out his name. You caught him as he staggered and the two of you landed with a soft thud on the floor. Panicked, your hands dove to his chest, looking for the stab wound as tears began to stream down your cheeks.
“Hey,” you heard someone say softly, vaguely but you didn’t have time now. You had to stop the bleeding.
Something took hold of your chin, lifting it. It was Minghao. He was smiling the sweetest smile and you didn’t understand.
“I’m okay,” he said, pulling aside his robes, revealing nothing but a light cut along his ribcage.
“Hao,” you sniffled as his thumb came to wipe away some of your tears.
“I’m okay,” he said again, nodding softly.
And so all the adrenaline fled your body. Without a second thought, you flung your arms around his neck and hugged him close. It was a hug such as you’d shared when you were children; one made of pure happiness. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You were still crying, sort of, but you were sure it was the good kind of crying.
A gentle hand landed on top of your head, patting it in a soothing manner. You took it all in, the feel of him, his scent, the way his heart beat against yours.
“Everything is gonna be alright now, right?” you mumbled into his chest.
You felt him sigh.
“I think so.”
*
The following days were some of the strangest of your entire life.
The emperor of Yientan wasn’t dead. The dragon had hit him pretty bad but it had ultimately left the decision up to Minghao. Minghao, who of course decided to have the foreign emperor nursed back to health by Namin’s finest doctors. He still believed that peace between the two lands was possible.
You and Minghao, along with all remaining castle staff, had temporarily moved into the castle gardens. Most of the garden staff huts had apparently been spared from the fight. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but it was enough for the time being.
Not that you didn’t have any other options.
News of the attack and especially the return of the dragon had spread like wildfire through the cities and towns of Namin. Wealthy traders and investors offered their own residences in honor of the new legendary emperor but Minghao had turned them all down. He said he wanted to help rebuild the castle.
“Besides, I don’t know if I’m ready to face them yet.” Minghao’s face was contemplative as you two sat overlooking the rose garden from a hilltop.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
He leaned back onto his hands. “I don’t know,” he said, “I’m not ready to be their legend, truly this time. How am I supposed to— after my father.” He shook his head. “I’m no better than him. He was just a man and so am I.” 
Up in the sky, the golden dragon trailed patterns in the afternoon clouds. It had fluttered around the gardens all day; a beacon of hope.
“I know I have a job to do but—” he said finally, “I still can’t help but feel like I’m losing something precious.”
You nodded, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Things will be more complicated,” you admitted. It was true. You didn’t want to sugarcoat that for him. However, you weren’t worried.
“But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”
You could feel him start to smile as his arm slid around your shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Your majesty,” a tense voice said.
It was Tou Ma. You were surprised to find you were happy to see her.
“We have received word from your mother. She will be coming home in a few days. The Zhong family meanwhile have arrived home this morning. They are well.”
Minghao nodded, his face stony but a lot going on behind his eyes.
“Should I send word back?”
“No,” Minghao was quick to answer but then he caught himself, “I think I’ll write Zhong Mei and her parents a letter myself. They deserve that.” He was frowning to himself now. “And tell my mother I’m sorry— and can’t wait for her arrival.”
“I will,” Tou Ma said solemnly, her eyes trailing off. She was searching for words.
“What is it?” Minghao questioned.
Tou Ma pursed her lips.
“He is awake.”
*
You followed Minghao to one of the larger huts in the garden, where emperor Wu was being treated. The room was bare, save for a bed and a night stand upon which stood a bowl of water and a clean cloth. A middle-aged lady in simple blue robes stood by his bed. The moment she noticed Minghao, she fell into a deep bow.
“That’s alright,” Minghao said, taking her hands as she rose, “thank you for your amazing work.”
The woman went red in the face but smiled brightly back at him.
The emperor of Yientan still suffered a few bruises, one below his left eye. You couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy around him so you watched Minghao approach from a distance.
“How are you feeling?” he asked the man in the bed.
Emperor Wu let out a heavy sigh as his eyes landed on Minghao.
“I’ve been better,” he said.
There was a silence you weren’t sure of the meaning of. Minghao seemed to be waiting.
“I’ve sat here for a while now, you know,” he went on, “been awake since sometime last night— in and out of it most likely— but I’ve been thinking.”
The man in the bed looked nothing like he had during the battle. He’d been full of fire then. Now, he had a depleted look about him.
“Do you know what I was thinking?”
Minghao shook his head softly.
To your surprise, the emperor of Yientan let out a chuckle. Maybe he really had suffered brain damage after all.
“I was thinking, why am I in this comfortable bed?” he snickered lowly, “I thought I might have died. Thought it might be the afterlife. But then I was informed of your decision to let me live. To let me go.” His face went sad suddenly, brows furrowed. He looked almost silly.
“I realized I admire you, your majesty. You chose to spare the life of the man who invaded your land and took it for his own, the man responsible for your father’s death, the man that might have been responsible for your own death—” he let out another chuckle. “I thought you must be either mad or genius— I, um— I’m still not truly certain which one it is but I can say one thing for sure: you’ve got more bravery in that little body of yours than I’ve seen in any ruler of my lifetime. And I have no choice but to respect that.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your hands were anxiously clutched in front of your chest.
“Thank you, your majesty,” Minghao said, his shoulders relaxing a bit.
Emperor Wu raised himself in the bed, took the cloth from the nightstand and wiped his face with it. When his face was revealed once more, he was smiling.
“Alright,” he said, looking up at Minghao, “let’s get this over with. Let’s talk.”
*
This is how Namin was restored. The highlands were returned and multiple treaties were formed between Namin and Yientan, promising peace and collaboration for all time to come.
Minghao hugged his mother close a few nights later, and a ceremony was held for the death of Xu Yilan. It was a sombre meeting in a nearby temple, the only other attendees aside from direct family the thousands of fireflies that lit up the air.
Then, finally, it was time to go public with everything that had happened. The coming of the legend emperor had to be celebrated and the people of Namin were not going to let that opportunity go to waste. Banners were raised, fireworks set off, as a magnificent parade made its way through the capital.
Throughout all this, you found yourself completely overwhelmed, not only because so much was happening at once, but also because Minghao wanted you to be a part of it all.
“Are you alright?” Minghao whispered into your ear.
You hardly knew how to respond to that. You were sitting in a luxurious golden carriage, wearing the most beautiful silk you’d ever laid eyes on. Layers of pale pinks and greens, adorned with gold thread fell from your shoulders. Your hair had been elegantly put together by Tou Ma herself that morning, with flowers and ribbons she’d handpicked for you. If all that wasn’t enough to make your heart do cartwheels, Minghao, the new emperor of Namin sat beside you, holding your hand while he waved at the people cheering. And there were a lot of people around you. It seemed as if all of Namin had come out to watch the procession. You weren’t as confident as Minghao, darting your hand up occasionally to wave at the public, only to change your mind the next second and put it back down.
“I’m terrified,” you replied, “ecstatic and overjoyed and terrified.”
“That sounds about right,” he said, grinning, “but don’t worry, we’ll be there soon.”
Surely enough, the procession halted in the main square of the capital. A tall platform had been put up in the center of it. As you’d expected, your carriage opened its doors right beside it. It was time for Minghao to give his speech. With one last smile in your direction he left for the platform. You watched him breath in and out, visibly shaking the nerves out of his body before he began.
“People of Namin,” he spoke loud and clear, “in the last week, a lot of things have happened and rumors have run rampant. I believe you all deserve to know exactly what has happened at the castle and what this means for the future of Namin.”
You looked in complete awe and adoration, as Minghao explained the events of the past weeks and even before that; the protests, the arrival of the Zhong family and their plans, the attack, death of Xu Yilan and finally, the legend of the dragon.
“It is true,” Minghao said, “the dragon lives once more.”
Just then, a bright glimmer fell all over the square and the people squinted upwards to see the golden dragon fly overhead.
“It will protect Namin for as long as I live and hopefully longer.”
The crowd erupted in jubilant cheers. Minghao took this opportunity to look back at you. You were suddenly highly aware of the ridiculously wide grin that had been plastered on your face ever since he’d begun his speech. He returned it gladly and, to your surprise, beckoned you to join him onto the platform.
Your eyes went the size of daisies as you vigorously shook your head at him. He only smiled kindly at you and turned back around as the commotion had died down mostly.
“My dear people, it has been a glorious day!” he yelled  “but I have one more announcement to make.”
This turned the whole crowd silent.
“Throughout the challenges of the past week I have had to be strong. In order for the dragon to arise, I’ve had to be strong. I’m the true leader, I’m Namin’s hope, I am a legend come to life— I’ve been hearing these types of statements all around and I would like to say that, while your praise is appreciated, I fear I’m not entirely deserving—”
“There’s a reason I’ve been able to be strong. There’s a reason I’ve been able to keep my head on the right track, there’s a reason I feel like I can be a worthy leader to you all and it is a reason entirely outside of myself.”
He turned back around to face you. Your face went hot when you realized he was actually coming down to fetch you. He took your hand, gave you the most loving smile and pulled you up.
Everything looked simultaneously tiny and overwhelming from up on the platform. Luckily you had Minghao holding onto your hand or you for sure would’ve fainted.
“I can be the leader I am because of this woman,” he said, “she has been the one thing that’s grounded me in all of this and if it hadn’t been for her, I’m not sure I’d be standing here making this speech today.”
Your heart was pounding out of control and you felt lightheaded. You were grateful when Minghao’s arm slid around your waist and steadied you.
“On this special day, we celebrate the resilience and rebirth of Namin,” Minghao stated confidently, “but I would also like to use this day to profess my undying love for the girl standing beside me.”
A sea of murmurs welled up from the crowd. Minghao came to face you again and suddenly, he looked less like an emperor and more like the boy you’d always known.
“I’ve always loved you,” he said quietly, “it’s always been you.” His hand came to hold your face gently. “I know the life I lead from now on will be full of challenges and responsibilities, it will be a life in the spotlight, maybe—” he sighed, “maybe nothing like the life you’d imagined for yourself but—” he was really searching for words now, his eyes darting in all directions until they finally landed back on yours.
“If you’ll have me, I would love for you to share that life with me.”
It was as if a collection of fireworks set off inside of you, shooting from the top of your head all the way down to your toes, setting you aflame. It was an overload of feelings. You didn’t even notice the tear trickling down your cheek until Minghao wiped it away.
“So, will you?” he asked, looking like he might collapse from nerves as well now.
The smile burst free from its own accord as the reality of the situation finally sank in.
“Yes, of course!” you let out and your arms flung themselves around Minghao’s neck.
Now the people of Namin were really cheering, their noise like drums in your head as you embraced Minghao. Even when you broke apart the cheering didn’t stop; it only grew wilder as Minghao pressed his lips to yours. 
In all your life you’d never thought this would be yours. Even as a child you’d known that Minghao, your playmate wasn’t to be wanted. He was different, above others, untouchable, and for years you’d struggled to come to terms with that grim fact. And yet here he was, in front of you and all of Namin, telling you he loved you. It was the beginning of a new era for Namin and it seemed that its residents were ready for change. And you were more than certain Minghao was the right person to lead the people with justice and, above all, love.
120 notes · View notes
wh6res · 4 years
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taeyong — part of the my bloody valentine collection.
prompt. when your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom on the same spot in your body.
synopsis. you’re desperate to meet your soulmate. maybe you can put a stop to the flowers stubbornly blooming on your wrists.
warnings. tread cautiously. mentions of mental illness (depression, attempted suicide), swearing, manipulation, implied self-harm, dubious content, forced relationship, unconsensual touching near the end, ty pulling the sadboi agenda
disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.
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by the time you’re graduating high school, you’re used to the sorry glances people sent your way. 
for someone so young, you have more flowers blooming on your skin than any adult. a few small pieces of it blooming in the corner of your cheek, near the jawline. a few of them on your thighs. 
but the most concerning piece is the one on your wrists that are fully covered by the flowers, your skin nowhere to be seen with all the lilies of the valley tainting your skin. 
yet the worse has got to be the summer before senior year. you had been halfway done with the college entrance examination for a local university. your parents said the pain you felt the first time will turn into a mild itch whenever the flowers form on your skin. 
it started small, absentmindedly scratching at something on your neck. initially, you thought it was the heat, your sweat, and the fabric of your clothes irritating the sensitive skin. but when you walked up to the proctor to turn in your exam, you knew that apologetic stare like nothing else—but his eyes had flickered down to your neck. 
when your friends blew up your phone, asking where you are to celebrate, you lied and headed straight back home, head ducked, collars upturned, hiding the lilies of the valley wrapped around your throat like some insignia. 
a year later, you end up studying soulmate theory in university. they say it’s a useless course as there can be no scientific explanation to soulmates. you like thinking you chose the course because of sheer interest but really, you’re just finding an explanation, some external reason that probably bore no results but you trudged forward anyway. 
you’re restless in the pursuit of finding him—or her, you couldn’t care less. the hurt you feel weighs heavy in your heart each time you feel them blooming on your wrist, mind plagued with worry. 
your roommate interrupts your deep thinking as she practically throws herself onto your bed. “i have an idea!” she cheers, determined. “why not part-time in the school clinic? that way if people come in, you can compare their cuts to your flowers.”
“now, you just might be onto something there.”
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the hunt for your soulmate still wasn’t easy despite working in the university’s clinic and it only got worse each day. your schedule is killing you, you’re slightly getting behind in some subjects, and you practically live in the library. 
contrary to popular opinions, soulmate theory can be a fucking bitch to study about. what with learning psychology, astrology, and botany all together. it was interesting how all these things can be factors in how people are paired to become soulmates. interesting, but rather complicated in a sense, too. 
they say psychology and astrology dealt with two people’s compatibility. while botany, the meanings of the flowers themselves, was theorized to predict how the soulmate connection will affect their relationship—ultimately, roses were a really, really good sign. 
you have been busy messing up your hair, utterly frustrated and irate—astronomy’s messing with your head and you can’t go a minute without scratching your wrists as the flowers bloomed after the other. 
then something unexpected happened. 
a lanky guy dressed in an all-black ensemble walked into the clinic. well, it was more of a being carried between two guys by the arms rather than walked in. everything about his clothes looked way too big to fit his delicate frame and it hardly looked like it was for fashion style purposes. his skin hugged his body to the bone, eyes sunken, and he looked so frail that a tiny shove would’ve sent him sprawled on the floor. 
his name was taeyong and he lied on the bed unconscious, with handkerchiefs wrapped around his wrists like bandages—courtesy of his friends, who looked deathly worried for the fate of their poor friend. if he had lost any more blood, he would’ve died. you had never seen the clinic in such chaos, people running around, anxious. your leg muscles were sore from going back and forth from the nurse’s side to the cabinets storing all the medical supplies she needed. 
it had been a whirlwind, and after your superior had patched and properly bandaged his cuts, you were left to look after him in the meantime as nurse jung tried contacting his guardian. 
his friends—who you learned were named yuta and jaehyun, were snoozing outside on the bench across the hall, parallel with the clinic’s double-glass door, as they waited for their friend to wake up. 
depression. suicidal. taeyong has been like that for his whole life, jaehyun stated earlier. you can only shoot a sorry look at the unconscious boy lying on the hospital bed. 
it had already been dark outside when you came in to switch out his bandages for new ones—only to realize that his cut is exactly where you had been scratching earlier before he showed up. 
you retracted, unbelieving of what that possibly entails. along the way, you’ve pieced together that your soulmate is probably struggling through something heavy, something that weighed him down so much that it made him believe hurting himself is the only solution, what with all the flowers on your skin. 
“it’s him…” you mumble, wide eyed as you eyed the faded scars around his wrists, eerily aligned to the flowers blooming on your own. 
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you didn’t want to overwhelm him, that much was sure. you didn’t want to chase him away if he gets uncomfortable. so for weeks you started leaving anonymous notes in his locker. not the sappy love letter types, just little words of encouragement that could make his day better. 
when their friend breaks out into the tiniest of smiles, yuta and jaehyun’s thankful eyes would scour around the halls. sneakily looking for you behind taeyong’s back. they understood where you’re coming from and hadn’t spoken a word of disagreement when you told them you didn’t plan to make yourself known as his soulmate yet. 
and as if the notes were not enough, you start giving him his favorite starbucks drink every now and then—on days the flowers didn’t bloom as much as it normally would. you turn up half an hour early before lectures so you can place it on the table where he usually sits with his two best friends. even if his class is on the other side of campus, you’d still go. 
but it only took three weeks of creeping around until you’re caught by your soulmate himself. 
“do you want something from me?”
you didn’t know what to say, cat got your tongue as you stood before him holding the drink. you couldn’t weasel your way out and say the drink’s yours, not when he caught you standing before his usual seat, not when you were already leaning forward to place it on his desk.
“uhm… i…” you stutter pathetically, not being able to meet the intensity of his eyes. 
“jaehyun and yuta aren’t exactly the most lowkey, especially with how much their eyes wander when i open my locker. so, do you want something from me? what are you playing at, stalker?”
the name he called you stung like a bitch but you can’t blame him for it. you knew him, he doesn’t know you. you’re giving him gifts anonymously. even if they were all from the goodness of your heart, from an outsider’s view, your actions still appeared sketchy.
“soulmate,” you correct him. 
you watch his features twist into confusion, only for it to morph into shock once he’s digested what you just said. eventually, he schools his expression back to indifference. his stoic face is so intimidating, you thought, biting your bottom lip and fidgeting on your toes. 
“what?”
“i’m your—i’m your soulmate.”
his eyes flicker downwards to peak a glance at the bouquet of flowers painted on your skin. colors as beautiful and vibrant as the day you got them, the stems of the bell-shaped flowers intricately woven into each other. for a split second, you even twist your arms a little, showing him the rock hard proof of your claim. 
ever since you found him, you’ve always contemplated for the better part of your limited free time about what his reaction will be when he finds out you two are soulmates. will he accept you? or worse case scenario, pretend you didn’t exist? the possibilities are unknown especially with someone who seems to be going through so much that the last thing they wanted is this person who thinks they’re entitled to be part of their lives because the universe made it be that way. 
not that you feel entitled… taeyong can reject you all he wants and you’ll give him the space he needs—
he’s crying. 
and not the simple, small tears slowly streaming down his face one by one type of crying, no, his tears were an onslaught. full-on sobbing as he threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, words heavily muffled by your coat. 
“is it—” he hiccups. “true?”
you blink, from all the reactions you’ve gone through in your head, crying was the very last thing you expected from him—crying and hugging you like you’re the last person on earth and he’s been touch-starved until he found you. 
maybe that was the case. 
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you wonder what jaehyun and yuta felt whenever taeyong ditched them to spend time with you—and that was pretty much all the time since he’s found you. he’s like a puppy, following you around wherever you go (unless he has classes) and had been neglecting his friends. whether it was intentional or not, whether his two friends were cool with it or not, you don’t know. 
you try your best to smile every time he runs up to you on the other end of the hall, spotting you coming out of your own respective classroom after lectures are done. 
he’s beaming like a child, inviting you to this cafe he wants to take you to—and pathetic ‘lil ‘ol you just can’t seem to say no to those huge expecting eyes.
but you’re not blind to the slight scowl on yuta’s face nor the razor sharp smile on jaehyun’s features. they want to hang out together, just boys, but now there’s this soulmate who’s suddenly more important than them—what happened to bros before hoes?
but they knew taeyong needed you. heck, he never once smiled like the way he did before he met you. it was like he’s become this whole new person with a child-like innocence reflecting his eyes. 
“so?” your soulmate prompts just as his two friends came over, flanking him. 
taeyong deflates the moment he sees the hesitance in your eyes. “uhm… i actually have a shift in the clinic, and nurse jung said the clinic isn’t some hang out place, so you can’t, uhh…” you trail, not wanting to finish the sentence. 
a little white lie can’t hurt anyone, right? 
taeyong shouldn’t depend on you all the time, not when he also has friends who care about his well-being and mental health just as much as you do. being soulmates didn’t mean he has to spend every waking moment with you and the faster he realizes, the better. 
when you dashed away before he could even mutter out a reply, you miss the frown on his face, his eyes never once leaving your frame until you turned the corner. 
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people often favor the underdog. they have this gnawing urge in their gut to sympathize and unknowingly root for their own plot twist or happy ending. 
people look at you and your soulmate and think you have poor, suicidal and depressed and sad taeyong eating at the palm of your hand, following you around like a lonely duckling—the undeniable underdog in a coming-of-age movie, the person shoved around until some bigger, more capable person comes to their rescue (in this case you, unfortunately).
but appearances have always been deceiving. 
your little 3-week head start with getting to know your soulmate had only been on surface-level. you just wanted to help him but taeyong’s obvious attraction—can you even call it that? you’d like to think it’s more of infatuation—is off-putting for you. from standing way too close to putting an arm around you, from walking you to your lectures to walking you home, from the light headpats to having the guts to kiss your cheeks. 
it’s too much and it wasn’t as if you basked in the public display of affection. whenever you tried telling him off in the most gentlest of ways, taeyong would frown and curl in on himself, eyes glossy, darting around, and looking like a kicked puppy. 
you couldn’t leave him like that just because of some harmless skinship, right? he’s just excited and happy he’s found you. weren’t you also the first one to initiate? with all those notes and gifts you’ve given him? and now you’re backing away just because of a few touches?
“you know,” your roommate plops herself on the couch next to you, netflix movie playing as background. “you’re not obligated to fix him. you’re his soulmate, not his psychiatrist.”
you sigh, head diving into the couch pillows. “i’m not trying to fix him, i’m just…”
she raises a prodding eyebrow. 
“…i’m just trying to be there for him.”
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taeyong likes to think that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. but the sense of rush and sick pleasure running up and down his spine whenever you force a smile and give in to his wishes proves otherwise. 
all his life he’s been pushed around. tasked to buy his old man beer and cigarettes and an assortment of drugs. if he turns up empty handed, guess who becomes a punching bag? and he has always been alienated throughout his school life. immature elementary kids aren’t exactly the kindest and would’ve picked on every single thing to appear cool to their friend groups. and poor little scrawny taeyong who didn’t speak and didn’t defend himself was just too easy of a target. 
“uhm… you don’t—don’t need to walk me home all the time.” do you think so low of him that you believe he doesn’t sense your fake little giggle?
“but i like walking you home,” he pouts, jutting his lips just a wee bit more for extra measure. he makes sure his eyes are as round and glossy as can be, he noticed those puppy eyes are what gets to you the most. 
he can tell by your tense shoulders, the clear hesitance in your face, that smile that looked too sweet to be real, and your averting eyes. you needn’t say anything for taeyong to figure you out. he isn’t blind to the lack of comfort you’ve developed by being with him. 
he has to think of something or else you’ll be slipping through the gaps of his fingers.
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he asked you out on valentine’s day. it wasn’t the simple, forgettable act of popping out the “hey, do you want to go out on a date with me?” question while holding a bouquet of flowers. taeyong made sure you’ll never forget this certain day that he had laid his claim on you—not that it needed to be vocalized, it was his wounds that made flowers bloom on your skin. the soulmate connection should be enough.
but taeyong wanted to go the extra mile.
with the help of his friends (yuta’s popular and jaehyun can be very persuasive), he’s got people handing you lilies of the valley every ten feet until you reach the auditorium in the main building. despite it blooming on your skin you’ve never really seen them in the flesh. they’re like dew drops, bell-like flowers growing in an elegant dip from it’s main stem and appearing no bigger than your thumb.
you were awed, but skeptical.
you meet taeyong by the end of your little journey, standing on a decorated stage with a bouquet of the flowers nestled delicately in his hands. the natural sunlight bleeding through the open windows giving him such a beautiful glow that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he had smiled and timidly gave you the flowers while asking.
“will you be my girlfriend?” 
if only you’d look close enough, that sugar coated smile contrasted greatly to the sly flickers in his eyes. he knows how your actions are dictated by the reputation you’ve built. taeyong knows you'll say yes, because if you didn't, how could you have rejected your own soulmate who has made you the light of his life? he’s been nothing but kind to you and you’ve only pushed him away! you’re a monster! you should’ve saved him!
if him alone can’t make you say yes, maybe the pressure-induced stare of the whole student body can.
and as you shivered amidst taeyong’s suffocating hug, feeling the triumphant smirk against your head and his prodding nose as he sniffed your hair, you now understood why your body bloomed this specific woodland flower. 
lilies of the valley are beautiful.
but lilies of the valley are poisonous, too.
the flowers remind you of taeyong. 
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making things official has only made things worse. taeyong has promised you that after being together he won’t try hurting himself anymore and that he’s a big boy and he can attend his therapy sessions alone. but the itching in your skin is as constant as ever and you just got off the phone with the receptionist of the clinic he goes to. 
“are things alright? i haven’t seen taeyong since three weeks ago.”
if there’s one thing you absolutely hate doing with your soulmate, it’s confrontations. for the three months you’ve been together, taeyong has always, always spiraled out whenever you confront him about something. be it the mildest or the most superficial thing, what started out small will turn into a complete whirlwind and he’d be in a fit of tears by the end of it.
every single time. 
you prefer happy taeyong than sad taeyong—if you can avoid it for as long as you can, you will. but you’re at your breaking point. him lying to you about his therapy sessions is the pin that popped the little balloon of security you’ve been protecting. 
when you arrive home, he’s already there, crouched and sifting through your bookshelf. it wasn’t a surprise or anything out of the ordinary, he possesses the key to invite himself into your apartment any time. “hey, you’re home!” he immediately stands, barreling towards you. 
he encircles his arms around you protectively as he pulls you flush against his body. you feel the tip of his nose prodding against your neck, hearing him inhaling your scent like cannabis. 
you learned to ignore it, this habit of his—but just because you do doesn’t make you any less uncomfortable than the first time he did it.
you don’t bother hugging him back. 
you were too pissed off to keep up with pretenses. 
“the clinic called, said you weren’t attending your sessions. why were you lying to me?” 
when pushed into a corner, you were never one to beat around the bush.
“i don’t like going alone, i told you that, remember?” he quickly replied, shoving you away. “i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just come with me for my sessions, don’t you think? you’re blowing this out of proportion when it’s all your fault.”
you wanted to pull at your hair. scratch that, you wanted to pull at his hair—no, not in that kind of way. 
“how the fuck—” you stop. taeyong hates it when you curse. cursing will do you more harm than good. you inhale through your nostrils, willing yourself to calm down. “how is this my fault? i told you i have to run errands for professor kim!”
“then quit working there! they’re not even paying you, it’s just for extra credit! which you wouldn’t even fucking need if you weren’t flunking astronomy so bad.” taeyong must’ve seen your features twisting into that of betrayal. he was there when you were crying your eyes out because you failed the exam. he knew the subject was taking such a big toll on you. 
how could he…
“don’t fucking look at me like that, kitten. you know it’s the truth.”
what is the point of this, some form of payback he’s subjecting you to? just because you didn’t come with him to his sessions? six months in this relationship and you already feel so drained, how would the universe expect you to keep up for a whole fucking lifetime together with him?
“why…” you choke, the tears building up in your eyes as your voice breaks. “so what do you want me to do, then?” you ask, because you genuinely don’t know. 
does he want you to choose? is that it? you didn’t want to lose the credits, but you didn’t want to lose this relationship either, no matter how much you’re drowning in the toxicity of it all. 
because this is your soulmate. 
certainly, the universe wouldn’t destine you to each other if it would only bring forth chaos, right? taeyong has mentioned time and time again that this is his first relationship. of course, he’s depending on you to show him the ropes. 
but it seems he isn’t really a big fan of how you do things. 
“quit.”
you shake your head defeatedly. “you know i can’t. i’d have to take the whole subject again next semester and—”
“i said quit, dollface.” the finality in his tone renders you speechless. “then fucking take the subject again next semester! i don’t care. that’s your consequence for neglecting your major. why the fuck do i have to suffer, too, if my soulmate is such a failure?”
his words cut deep, deeper than flesh, cutting through bone as your knees the urge to buckle and collapse before him. “taeyong, please—”
“honestly, i don’t even know what you’re doing with that professor. you always brush it off whenever i ask you!” the glare he sends could kill. “is this… is this why you’re so adamant about not quitting? then again… what kind of professor is willing to pass his students just by interning for him? i can’t believe i’m only realizing this now!”
this is bad. this is very, very bad. 
“whatever you’re thinking about is not true! trust me—”
but as if he can’t hear you, he dawdles on, trying to connect the dots when there is absolutely nothing to connect. 
“you suck dick for grades? how could you do this to me? how can you do that to yourself?” 
you don’t understand exactly why he’s crying again so you don’t say anything. not because his fierce accusations were right but because even if you try hard to convince him that nothing is going on with your astronomy professor, he’d still cry and whine and paint you to be the bad guy. 
“what… what use do i have in this world if my soulmate thinks i’m not enough? and i lost you to some guy who smelled like prunes of all people!” you would have laughed if the situation had been different, but taeyong was dead serious. “i’m useless. i’ve been useless with my family, my friends, and now you. i can never do anything right, can i? i can never make anyone stay. i can’t even make you stay!”
and like a switch that has been flicked off, your conflicted emotions vanish in thin air. gone are every trickle of anger, confusion, and irritation you felt as he makes a beeline to the coffee table, smashing the little ornamental fish bowl and pointing a shard against his dainty wrists. 
“no!” you tackle him to the ground, groaning when you feel the shard dig into your side yet you made no effort to get off of him. blindly, you reach, twisting his wrist to drop the piece of glass. “you promised!” you wail, clutching the collars of his shirt as you pull him close to you. “stop, stop hurting yourself.”
you feel him shaking his head, his own onslaught of tears staining your shirt as the negativity he’s been bottling pours over like a tsunami, dragging you under the currents with him. “no, no, no…” you splutter, snot running disgustingly down your nostrils. “it’s not true, none of that is true. you’re my love, my moonlight, i’d never betray you for anyone or anything!”
“but—but your professor, the internship—”
“i’ll quit. i’ll take the subject again next semester, it’s not a big deal, okay? don’t worry, i’m here. i’m so sorry!”
it was all too easy.
the thing with noble people like you is the foolish sense of responsibility lying underneath your skin, it’s gravitational pull so strong that you don’t bother to think before you speak, to think before you act, to think before you make promises, because what’s important isn’t yourself, it’s the person lying meek and helpless before you. 
quit, you say? taeyong wants something more.
the evil lying inside pandora’s box can never remain dormant, not when meddlesome people like you who think with a one-track mind pull the lid off its hinges, preaching how every evil can have their own redemption.
a hand finds purchase around your waist as an eerie blissful smile stretches on his lips, eyes clouded over. “really? i’m your moonlight?”
“yes—”
“would you prove it to me?”
he doesn’t make room for your hesitance to settle, he lunges, hands wrapping around your face to pull you into a kiss. it wasn’t like all the other kisses you’ve shared with him, no, this one had a dark, underlying purpose. his hands digging into your open wound to make it bleed, tongue sliding into your mouth the moment you gasped in pain.
your hands press on his chest, trying to push him away but taeyong’s thoughts are running wild. you blush in sheer humiliation when he lets out an almost pornographic moan. with a sinking realization, you’ve become hyper aware of something poking at your abdomen.
no, not yet. you weren’t ready yet!
“taeyong, wait—i’m not—”
“you said you love me, didn’t you?”
346 notes · View notes
freddie-weaselbee · 4 years
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Everything You Do
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, love potion, small argument but honestly really fluffy
Summary: Y/N tries to get back at Fred for years of pranks, only to have her plan blow up in her face and she has to suffer the consequences for 48 hours. 
Request: @darthwheezely i literally loved writing this so much and now magic’s gonna be stuck in my head for the next week so thanks for that
Word Count: 7.9k yeah I may have gotten a little carried away
Song: Magic by One Direction
A/N: For the sake of the story One Direction exists in the 90′s and Hogwarts has Muggle radios. Also I spent my Valentine’s Day writing this instead of actually doing something romantic because Fred owns my heart and real men don’t compare. That’s my excuse. 
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“This is a really dumb idea.”
“I know, that’s what makes it so fun!”
Angelina Johnson was standing guard outside of a small broom closet while you were mixing together dozens of ingredients you had swiped from Snape’s storage room. He had been distracted punishing the troublemaking twins, giving you the perfect opportunity to grab everything you needed. Ironic how they were the ones who made it possible for you to enact your plan against them. 
“I still can’t believe you roped me into this.” Angelina was one of your best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. The two of you had been inseparable for years, which meant she always had your back, even if that consisted of concocting a love potion for a certain redhead Gryffindor. 
You added the last of your ingredients and continued to stir, being careful not to mess up the very specific directions for this spell. “C’mon Angie,” you said, “you know you want to get him back as much as I do.”
Angelina sighed heavily but didn’t argue. The two of you were usually on the receiving end of pranks from Fred and George and anything you ever planned to do to get them back failed miserably. But the second you overheard them talking about making love potions to sell an idea formed in your mind. 
“It’s finished.” You poured the cauldron’s contents into a small vial before cleaning up any traces of your unlicensed actions. This small potion was about to make your life a lot more interesting. “You can get us into the kitchens, right Angie?”
The girl nodded and led you out of the closet and down abandoned corridors. Angelina’s prefect status had been extremely helpful in many cases, as no one would question why the two of you were out late. You could barely contain yourself as you thought about the chaos that would be happening in less than 24 hours. And by God did Fred Weasley deserve all that was coming to him. 
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You had everything planned out. Angelina and you spent the night baking the potion into some brownies with the help of the house elves, a treat you knew Fred wouldn’t be able to resist. The plan was simple. 
Angelina had asked George the other night if he would want to go on an early morning walk and get in some extra Quidditch practice, so it would only be Fred and Lee in their dorm room when they woke up. The way the potion worked was that, once consumed, the first person the victim makes eye contact with is the person they fall madly in love with for 48 hours. And you and Angelina had decided on the perfect person to be on the receiving end of Fred’s love. Lee Jordan. 
While both Fred and George were responsible for the annoying pranks, Fred was always the instigator, which meant it was he who deserved revenge. Angelina had a soft spot for George and didn’t want to involve him in this prank. However, she had no reservations about seeing Lee, the boy who constantly flirted with her during Quidditch games, suffer from Fred’s pining for a few days. 
You made your way to the boys dormitory, bouncing with excitement of the prospect of messing with the boy who would tease you to no end. You knocked loudly on the door, which you knew would only put Fred in a bad mood. But you didn’t care. He’d be feeling nothing but love and bliss shortly.
The door was jerked open and a tall mess of ginger hair was standing in front of you, clothed in only a pair of boxers that had cute little Gryffindor lions on them. You had to stifle a laugh and remind yourself that it’s probably not polite to knock on someone’s door early in the morning and proceed to stare at their crotch. 
“What the bloody hell do you want?” he groaned, eyes still half closed. 
“That’s not a nice way to greet someone who just brought you food, now is it Freddie?” His face changed as he registered your voice and finally opened his eyes wide enough to see you. A slight blush formed on his face as he realized the little clothing he was wearing, but it was quickly replaced by his signature cocky smile. 
“And what can I do for you this morning, love?”
You rolled your eyes and pulled the brownies from behind you, one of them normal and the other containing the love potion. “Angelina and I snuck out to the kitchens last night and snagged a bunch of brownies. I’ll give you one if you promise to leave me out of your pranks, at least for a little bit. I’m tired of waking up to centipedes in my bed and green dye dripping from my hair.”
Fred laughed and snatched the brownie you handed to him. “I appreciate the negotiation, darling, but it’s gonna take a lot more than some baked goods to get me out of your hair. Just ask my mum.” 
He was about to take a bite from the brownie, you knew this was it. “You’re insufferable Weasley, I’ll see you in class.” You turned and walked away, counting the minutes until the fun would begin. A door slammed behind you and you assumed Fred had gone back to his bed. With a skip in your step you made your way back to your dorm. 
You were about to open the door when you felt a rough hand on your shoulder. You gasped and spun around to see Fred towering over you. 
“Sorry to scare you love, but I needed to ask you something.” Before you could stop yourself you looked up at him. In his right hand was the half eaten brownie. His eyes caught yours and you watched, horrified, as they glazed over. The spell had worked. But now you were the target of Fred’s love. 
“Oh Godric, oh no.” 
Fred’s expressions suddenly changed. His previous cheeky and somewhat nervous grin was gone, replaced with a lovesick smile. “Have you always looked this beautiful?”
You screamed and pushed him into your dorm room, casting a locking charm from the outside. You hoped Fred didn’t have his wand and that would buy you some time. 
Sprinting back to Fred and Lee’s dorm you threw open the door and practically jumped on the dark haired boy sleeping tangled in his sheets. 
“Lee, wake up wake up!”
He groaned and slapped your arm away but you wouldn't give up. It took all of your might but you rolled him off of his bed, and he gasped loudly as his limp body hit the floor.  
“You’re an arse, you know that right?”
Lee finally sat up after he realized that pretending to be asleep would not stop you from frantically shaking him. As he rubbed his eyes and moved to get off the floor he saw the scared look that adorned your face. 
“Lee…” you said in a panic, “I messed up.”
------------------------------
George, true to his nature, was absolutely no help. Angelina had brought them back up early so she could check up on the plan, only to walk in on you groaning into Fred’s bed and Lee yelling about how you deserved it for trying to prank him. It only took a few minutes to fill George in, and he and Lee were both beside themselves imagining the possibilities of this turn of events. 
“Guys shut up,” you said, slamming your head into one of Fred’s pillows. “This is serious. How am I supposed to deal with Fred being in love with me for two days?”
“I don’t know Y/N,” Lee began mockingly, “it must be really difficult. Not something you would want anyone to have to experience, huh?”
You threw the pillow at his face. “You deserved it Jordan, Angelina agrees.”
The other girl nodded hesitantly. “I did think it would be great to see Fred madly in love with Lee, but now that this has happened…” her face shone with a sly grin that was so rare to find on the prefect, “I think I want to see it play out.”
“You are all horrible people.”
George moved to sit next to you and rub your back. “Hey, don’t worry, love. Maybe the potion isn’t as bad as you thought? Maybe Fred’s not going as crazy as you expected.”
He was. 
As you opened the door to your dorm you were engulfed in a bone crushing hug, one very similar to Molly Weasley’s embraces. “I missed you so much, don’t ever leave me for that long again!”
George and Lee had to walk away because they were laughing so much, leaving Angelina to stare at the scene in front of her. 
“Umm, Fred,” she asked, peering into the bedroom, “what the hell did you do in here?”
Fred released you from his hold and you could finally see the mess that he created. Everything you owned was pulled from your trunks and scattered across the floor. Your uniform, your books, even your underwear was haphazardly thrown onto your sheets. 
You and your roommate were glaring daggers at the boy in front of you, but if he noticed he didn’t care. 
“You like it?” he asked. “I wanted to be as close to Y/N as I could while she was gone, so I spread all of her belongings out to make it feel like she was right next to me.” He said the last few words with a dramatic sigh and you smacked your head, hoping it would knock you out of whatever nightmare you were in. 
You grabbed his hands in yours and led him back to his room, hoping too many people wouldn’t see him clad in only his underwear. “C’mon Freddie, let's get you dressed. We have a long two days ahead of us. 
------------------------------
You didn’t know if having most of your classes with Fred was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, at least he wasn’t skipping class to be with you all day and you could keep a close eye on him. On the other hand, you already had lost 50 house points and it wasn’t even lunch yet. 
“You look stunning with your hair pulled back like that.” Instead of doing his potions assignment, Fred was bent over resting his head on his hand and staring at you mixing together your ingredients. 
“And you look like an idiot standing like that, get back to work before we get in trouble again.” You thought that if you were rude to Fred then maybe he would get the hint and back off. But your potion turned out to be stronger than expected, and nothing you did could get him away from you. 
He pushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear, letting his fingers linger for a few seconds. It made you blush furiously but you didn’t want to give the boy any satisfaction. “Back to work Fred, now.”
The ginger sighed and grabbed a few ingredients, not checking to see what they were. He hummed and danced around the table, throwing them in while he quietly sang a familiar tune. 
You rolled your eyes and looked down at your own cauldron, before his hands were on your chin and your faces were inches away from each other. “Everything you do is magic, love. I could watch you all day.”
“I’m a witch, dummy. Of course everything I do is magic.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He went back to throwing random ingredients into his pot and you couldn’t help but laugh at the lovesick mess standing in front of you. That is, until the cauldron exploded. 
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Y/L/N, you insufferable idiots.” Of course Snape would blame you too. “Detention tonight.”
You groaned and slammed your head onto the table, but Fred just wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Isn’t that great? Now we can spend even more time together.”
“Don’t remind me Weasley.”
------------------------------ 
The rest of the day had gone by surprisingly smoothly. George and Lee tried to distract Fred for a few hours to give you a little peace and quiet, but he always found his way back to your side. You started to attract odd glances as you moved through the castle with Fred’s hands intertwined with yours and his constant complimenting that made you turn even deeper shades of red. 
You tried to avoid public spaces as much as possible. If people saw the way Fred was acting around you it wouldn’t take long for them to piece everything together and recognize the effects of a semi-illegal love potion. And you really didn’t want to be known as the girl who forced someone to fall in love with you, even if it was a complete accident. 
However, dinner was difficult. Fred walked into the Great Hall with his arm draped over your shoulder, booping your nose and handing you a flower he had picked from the courtyard. You blushed and quickly put it in the pocket of your robe, hoping no one would notice. But they did. 
“Finally!” someone shouted, and you turned to the Hufflepuff table to see Cedric Diggory yelling. “MacMillan, you owe me 5 galleons!”
You furrowed your brow in confusion and turned to look at Angelina and George, who avoided eye contact with you. “Guys, what is he talking about?”
The four of you sat down, followed by Lee. Fred’s arm stayed stuck to you, even when you tried to shove him off. Angelina looked a little sheepish as she took a seat in front of you. 
“Well, we tried to keep it from you and Fred because we didn’t want it to get awkward, but…”
“Everyone has bets on when they thought you two were gonna shag, or at least snog or get together or something,” Lee piped up. 
You looked between the faces of your friends, searching for a joke. “You’re kidding. I know you’re kidding.”
George just shook his head and gave a small laugh. “Nope. Everyone’s in on it too. Even heard McGonagall and Dumbledore discussing their bets.”
Your jaw dropped and you looked up at Fred. “Did you know about this?” 
“The only thing I know, bunny, is how incredibly adorable you are.” He leaned his head on your shoulder and nuzzled himself into you, breathing in your scent. 
Your mind started to race with what this meant. “Oh no, now everyone’s going to be paying attention to us! How am I supposed to explain it in two days when suddenly we’re back to normal and everyone’s asking what happened? I’m gonna be in so much trouble…”
“Better you than me,” said Lee, who was growing increasingly more glad that your plan backfired and he wasn’t the one having to deal with Fred. 
“I hate this so much.” You tried your best to eat your dinner in peace, but with people congratulating you and passing around money the entire meal you started to lose your appetite. You completely lost it when you saw George grab a few sickles from a Ravenclaw student. 
“You bet on this too?” He shrugged sheepishly and looked down to count the coins in his hands. “I told you, everyone knew you were gonna get together, might as well place my own bets on it.”
“Are you forgetting Georgie,” you said, starting to get angry with him, “that we’re not together?”
A few confused heads turned your way and you immediately quieted down. If you had to play along, then that was what you would do. 
You stood up and grabbed Fred’s hand in yours. “C’mon, Fred, it’s time for detention. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” They said their goodbyes as you rushed out of the Great Hall, ignoring the comments thrown in your direction. 
The two of you arrived in Snape’s classroom and you practically broke down the door, just ready to get all of this over with. 
“Miss Y/L/N, please refrain from damaging my classroom any more than you and your idiot boyfriend already have.” The greasy professor stood in the corner, flipping through the pages of one of his potions books. 
“He’s not an idiot, professor. And he’s not my--” you stopped yourself from correcting your teacher and instead opted for quietly dragging your ‘boyfriend’ over to where your detention assignment was. 
“I want this room spotless, do you understand me? Not a speck of dust. And if I find out that you two have gotten up to anything...funny--”
“Trust me professor, you don’t have to worry about that.” You looked at Fred whose eyes were glassy and looking at you. You had to admit, the thought of something happening with Fred had crossed your mind in the past, but you knew it was only a fleeting thought. Besides, you would never take advantage of your best friend or anyone for that matter, especially when he was literally under a spell that made him fall in love with you. You’d have to be really careful with anything Fred did while the two of you were alone. 
Snape set out a checklist for your tasks for the night before sweeping his cape dramatically and gliding out of his classroom. 
“So,” Fred began with a sly grin, “now that we’re alone…”
“Not a chance Weasley. You’re under a love potion and I want to get this done quick so I can head to bed and pretend this day never happened. So let’s get to work.”
He pouted and tried to put his arm around your waist but you slapped it away. “I’m serious Fred. If you love me then you’ll help, ok?”
Fred’s expression changed quickly and he nodded with enthusiasm, grabbing all the supplies needed to begin cleaning. You couldn’t help but stare at your best friend gleefully prance around the room, sweeping all of the dust while humming that familiar tune under his breath. 
Your mind went back to what your friends were saying earlier at dinner. Did everyone really think that you two would get together? I mean, you did always flirt with each other, but that was just how you were. Your personalities bounced off of each other so well, which led to you being practically inseparable for the past few years. Even after his pranks and jokes you could never be mad at him for more than a day, and you always found your way back to his side. 
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice that the boy was suddenly right behind you. “Dance with me, my love?” 
As you turned you saw him bowing with an arm extended to you, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him as his long red hair covered his face. “Fred, I told you, nothing’s gonna happen tonight.” 
But he grabbed your hand anyways and pulled you tighter to him. “Who says anything has to happen? This is just a friendly dance with the love of my life.”
“There’s not even any music, how are we supposed to dance?” He dipped you down and pulled you back up to his chest. You hated to admit it, but his lovesick state was growing on you. 
“We can dance to the beats of our hearts, my dear.” And the feelings were gone. You rolled your eyes at his tacky remark and had to remind yourself that this was just a fabrication of love and obsession that was created in a cauldron and consumed by your friend against his will. But some innocent dancing wouldn’t hurt. 
“Fine,” you said, “we can dance for a little bit, but then we work, got it?” 
He cupped your face and his thumb rested on your slightly parted lips. “Anything for you, my love.”
While you hated the cheesiness of Fred’s words, you had to admit that dancing haphazardly around the potions room, knocking over empty cauldrons and vials, was pretty fun. Fred hummed the song he had been humming nonstop for the past few days as he spun you around and pulled you back close. 
There were many instances where he tried to press his lips to yours, but every time you would spin away and distract him with some more dancing. His smile grew wider and wider after every second, and you thought it was a sight you could get used to. You probably would have continued to dance all night, except for the fact that you tripped over the broom Fred used earlier and it reminded you that you had a punishment to fulfill. 
But while you cleaned up the mess you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the ginger boy across the room, and wondering what it would be like to dance with the real him some day. 
------------------------------
You awoke with an awful crick in your neck and aches all over your body. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you realized that you weren’t in your dorm room lying on your comfy four poster bed. No, you had fallen asleep sitting against a wall of the potions room floor, with Fred laying his head on your lap, still fast asleep. 
You blushed at the position, but selfishly stayed still for a few minutes, staring at the slow rising and falling of Fred’s chest. He’d always been the cuter twin in your opinion. Slightly shorter, but with a rounder face and less bumped nose than his brother. His soft features were a huge contrast to his sharp and blunt personality, and they balanced each other so perfectly. 
He slowly shifted so his head was facing you, still laying on your lap. He looked up through his lashes, smiling softly. 
“Hey beautiful, hope you slept well.” Your heart melted at his words, along with his deep morning voice. But you had to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. It would never be real. 
“I reckon you slept fine, you had me as a pillow.” You lifted his head and shoved him off of you, standing up to brush yourself off. “I was stuck leaning against these cold walls with a 6’ 3” ginger laying on top of me. Best sleep of my life.” 
That was when the reality of what happened actually kicked in. It was the next morning, and the two of you were still in your clothes from yesterday and still in Snape’s classroom, who was bound to return any minute. 
“Shit.” You grabbed your friends hands and dragged him to the door. “C’mon Freddie, we have to get back to the Common Room before Snape sees us. Or someone else.”
“Who cares who sees love?” He stopped in his tracks which made you fly back into him. “I want the whole world to know how much I love my little angel.”
“I care who sees. And you don’t love me Fred, it’s the spell. C’mon let’s hurry up, please.” No matter how many times you tried to explain the love potion Fred just wouldn’t listen. But he finally decided to follow you through the labyrinth of the dungeon and back to Gryffindor tower. 
You thought you were home free before you heard a voice from behind you. “Looks like someone had a fun night, didn’t she?” 
You increased your pace and shouted back at the laughing figure, clad in green and silver. “Sod off Malfoy, it’s none of your business or anyone else’s for that matter.”
But he just continued to laugh and ran away, probably to tell his goons all about what he saw protruding from Snape’s classroom early in the morning. 
“He’s a real arse, isn’t he, doll?” Fred’s words made a small smile spread on your face, glad that the potion didn’t take all of his personality away. 
“Yeah he is, Freddie. Now let’s get you dressed and ready for class, ok?”
Fred grinned as you spoke the Gryffindor password to the fat lady. “Only if you promise to meet me in the courtyard for lunch. I have a surprise for you bunny.”
You pushed him through the door and back to his room. “Fine, but don’t call me bunny, ok?” He nodded reluctantly. “Oh and Fred?”
The boy turned around and stared at you dopily, hanging on to every word you said. 
“Please give me my tie back. I see it in your pocket.”
Fred sighed and gave you his best puppy dog eyes, which almost worked. But he eventually grabbed the tie and handed it to you. “Just wanted something to remember you by, that’s all rabbit.”
“I think that’s worse than bunny. Now get dressed and meet me back here for class. And if anyone asks you where we were last night, you lie, ok? We were in our dorms.”
He nodded so hard you thought his head would fall off. “Yes ma’am! How about a goodbye kiss?”
You sighed and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s all you get. Now off you go Weasley.”
Fred skipped back into his dorm room and started singing some song, which quickly turned into a scream, making you assume that one of his roommates had attacked him for waking them up so early. One day down, one to go. Easy, right? But what scared you was you didn’t know if you wanted this to end or if you wanted it to continue forever. 
------------------------------
“He’s insufferable, Angie. How am I supposed to deal with this again? Especially alone.” It was only minutes away from when Fred was supposed to take you out to lunch, and you really didn’t want to see him, especially since you had no idea how to feel about him now. 
Angelina smiled at you and sat down in the courtyard. “He can’t be that bad. It’s Fred!”
You gave her an ‘are you serious’ look. She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, ok it’s probably bad.”
“I just want things to go back to normal,” you groaned. “But that won’t even happen, because everyone thinks we’re dating now! Oh he’s gonna hate me when the potion wears off.”
“As if Fred could ever hate you, Y/N. You’re his favorite person, he’s said so himself.” Her words were not helping the internal crisis you were having.
“But what is everyone going to think? There’s no way they’ll believe we broke up after two days, and it’s not like Fred would play along and fake date me. I’m doomed.”
“You’re overdramatic, that’s what you are. We’ll figure it out, ok? And Fred will help once he’s back to normal. He could never get mad at you.”
“I hope you’re right. I just wish that he’d keep everything quiet and not make any big scenes.” The second you said that you saw Fred approaching you, but not from the ground. No, the drama queen decided to fly down on a broom, attracting everyone’s attention. “Oh great.”
“Have fun on your date you lovebirds!” Angelina called after you. You flipped her off as you walked to where Fred had landed. 
“Hello lovely, care for a ride?” Everyone was staring at you and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there. A display like this probably wouldn’t have bothered you if it was with someone you were actually dating, but the more people saw you and Fred together the more complicated an explanation would be. 
So you hopped on the back of his broom and whispered for him to fly away, fast. You zoomed through the air, away from the castle and down toward the Black Lake. 
The strong lake air filled your nose as your hair whipped around your face at top speed. You wrapped your arms around Fred tighter as he made twists and turns in every direction, causing you to scream and laugh at his antics. 
The afternoon sky was beautiful, and you took a mental note to do this again sometime, preferably with the man sitting in front of you. 
Fred finally landed the broom on an open piece of land, wildflowers blooming all around and the wind whistling in your ears. 
He grabbed your hand as you stepped off the broom and led you to a spot set up with a blanket and a basket of food. 
“Freddie…” It was too much for you to take in. This love potion must have been powerful stuff to make him go out of his way to do this for you. 
“Come here, dove, let’s eat.” 
You were speechless as you sat down on the blanket and were handed an assortment of foods, from mini sandwiches to grapes and strawberries to cupcakes for dessert. Fred grinned at the shocked expression on your face. 
“Fred, I...I don’t know what to say.” 
“Then don’t say anything, love.” He leaned in toward you, eyes flicking down to your lips. His beautiful, soft lips. At the last second before your lips met you grabbed a grape and plopped it into his mouth. Fred looked surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and did the same thing to you, feeding you a grape that he grabbed from the basket. This quickly turned into a food fight, with the two of you grabbing handfuls of fruit and chucking them at each other, diving out of the way and making barricades to protect yourselves.
You were laughing harder than you ever had before, so much so that the two of you lost track of time. 
“Oh, shoot, Fred. It’s probably time for our next class.” You tried to grab all of the supplies and pull him over to his broom, but his big hands wrapped around you from behind and held you in place. 
“Don’t leave, darling. I want to spend every minute of every day with you.” He rocked you from side to side, his words sending shivers down your back. You knew his words weren’t his. Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t the real Fred Weasley talking. But that didn’t stop you for pretending that it was real, at least for a few seconds. 
“Don’t say things like that, Freddie,” you said, unwrapping yourself from his hold. “You’re only making this harder than it already is.”
He followed you to the broom, you carrying the basket and blanket while tangling your arms around him again. You took off into the sky and you closed your eyes, soaking up every ounce of this fleeting beautiful moment. 
------------------------------
“So how are things with my brother going? Do I hear wedding bells in the future?”
You slapped George upside the head and huffed as you sat down for dinner, ignoring the laughs from your friends. 
“Shut up, George, I’m just glad this day is almost over. All I have to do is make it through dinner and then we can go back to our dorms and go to bed.”
Lee gave you a suggestive smile. “Yeah, our dorms. Just like what you two did last night.”
George started cackling like a hyena and you smashed your hand over Lee’s mouth. “Don’t say one word about that,” you hissed. “Malfoy’s already talking to enough people, I don’t want Fred thinking I took advantage of him and slept with him while he was practically drugged!”
This seemed to get through to the boys and they quieted down. 
“Nothing did happen though, right?” George was starting to get nervous, finally realizing what could’ve happened to his brother in this state. 
You shook your head. “Of course not. Only some dancing and falling asleep in awkward positions.”
“I am so glad that wasn’t me then,” Lee joked, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled slightly and turned to look for the man of the hour. 
“Hey, where is Fred anyways? We haven’t been apart for this long since he ate the brownie.” 
As soon as you spoke your words, Angelina sprinted into the room and sat next to you. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen.”
Your eyes went wide at Angelina’s words. “Angie, what are you talking about?”
Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall were flung open, and in rode Fred on his broom, throwing rose petals from a basket he was carrying. 
“Oh no,” you muttered. 
“Oh yes,” said George, who tapped Colin Creevey and asked him to get as many pictures of this as possible. 
Fred made a couple of laps around the hall and landed right in front of you. “Hello, lovely, are you ready for the show?”
You wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide for the rest of eternity, but Lee was holding you in place and you were forced to witness the monstrosity of what was about to happen. 
Fred waved his wand at a nearby Muggle radio that he had planted, and the song he had been humming for the past few days came on, blaring louder than a normal radio should be able to. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Fred began to sing. 
“Baby c’mon over I don’t care if people find out!”
George whistled at the scene and Creevey snapped a photo, the first of many to come. 
“They say that we’re no good together and it’s never gonna work out.”
You scanned the room frantically, looking for someone to help you out of this situation. But even Dumbledore looked intrigued as he sat back in his seat. 
“But, baby, you got me moving too fast,”
He kicked some food off of the table and it landed next to Malfoy, splattering his face with warm mashed potatoes. 
“Cause I know you wanna be bad,”
Fred started to do a very provocative dance move involving his broom and you could hear dozens of girls cheering for him. 
“And girl, when you’re looking like that, I can’t hold back!”
He held your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead before jumping on his broom and flying around the room, singing the chorus of the song at the top of his lungs. 
“Cause you, you’ve got this spell on me!”
Oh if only he knew. 
“I don’t know what to believe”
He did a loop on his broom and winked at you, making you smile against your will. No matter how annoying Fred was, especially under a love spell, he was still cute. 
“Kiss you once, now I can’t leave! Cause everything you do is magic, but everything you do is magic.”
He continued the song getting louder with each verse and making occasional stops to give you a small peck on the cheeks or forehead. 
After what felt like an eternity, the song died down and cheers from every table grew, even the Slytherins getting excited about the display. 
Fred landed next to you and sat down, hugging you tightly into his chest. “I love you, Y/N, with all of my heart.”
You felt yourself give in to your desires and you hugged him back tightly. “I love you too Weasley. More than you’ll ever know.”
He finally released you and you went back to your meals, your red blush not once leaving your face throughout dinner. After you and your friends finished you made your way back to your rooms. 
“I think I’m gonna turn in early Freddie, ok?” You didn’t really give him a chance to respond before you stepped into your room and started getting ready for bed. As you brushed your teeth and put on your pjs, the events from the past few days raced through your head. You pushed the thoughts out of your mind. After tomorrow morning, they wouldn’t matter. You and Fred would be back to your normal friendly selves and you would be struggling to come up with a way to justify the scene he had made in front of the entire school. 
As you pulled the covers up over your body you heard a shy knock on the door. Assuming it was Angelina you yelled for her to come in, only to see Fred standing in the doorway looking at you. 
You sat up slowly and gazed at the tall man, the one you felt yourself falling for even more in the past two days. “What’s up Freddie, are you alright?”
He nodded and made his way to sit on your bed. “I can’t sleep. Wanna sleep here with you. Can I sleep with you my love?”
You blushed at his words but nodded, scooting over to let him crawl into bed with you. You made sure to stay as far away from Fred as possible, but it didn’t help that he was constantly trying to pull you closer. 
“Fred,” you said, shifting out of his hold once again. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re not in your right mind and I don’t want normal Fred to wake up and wonder why we’re laying together.”
“But I wanna be here with you, pumpkin.”
You sat up again and adjusted the pillows underneath him so he would be comfortable. “How about you sleep here and I can lay on the floor, ok? That way I’m still close to you.”
Fred whimpered at the lack of heat from your body, but he nodded as you made a makeshift bed on the ground. Two days in a row sleeping on the floor. You guessed this was payback for ever thinking you could get back at Fred Weasley. 
You slowly fell asleep on the ground, listening to Fred’s soft breathing and your own pounding heart. Everything would be different in the morning. Everything would be normal again. 
------------------------------
You woke up early again, more aches and pains haunting your body. Groaning, you sat up to look for Fred, but he had disappeared. Had the potion worn off and he decided to head to his own bed? No, it wasn’t a full 48 hours yet, there was still a little time left. 
Your bathroom door shot open and out bounced Fred, looking more energetic than you had ever seen him this early in the morning. 
“Glad you’re up, love. I’ve got something to show you.”
Before you could protest, Fred was dragging you out of the Gryffindor tower and straight to the Astronomy Tower, which was usually empty this time of day. You were still clad in your pajamas but you figured no one would see you this early.
You made your way to the top and saw what Fred had meant. There was another blanket set up, but with a radio sitting on it instead of a basket of food. 
“I figured we could watch the sunrise together, sunshine,” he whispered into your ear, before pulling you onto the blanket with him. 
Fred turned on the radio and some soft music began to play. He threw his arm around your shoulders but you shrugged it off, knowing that the potion was going to wear off any minute now. 
“Y/N?” Fred asked. 
You looked at him tilted your head, gesturing for him to continue. 
“You know I love you, right?”
The look in his eyes made you want to break down. He was so beautiful, sitting in the glow of the sunrise. His eyes gleamed brown and gold, and you wanted nothing more than to get lost in them. 
“Yeah, Freddie. I know. Right now you do.”
Fred looked like he was about to say something else, when he started to get dizzy and he had to steady himself by holding onto your shoulders.
“Fred, are you alright?”
He didn’t answer, but instead took a deep breath and looked up at you. 
Fred shot away faster than a snitch at a Quidditch game, and you knew this was it. Your prank was over. 
“Y/N? What, how…? What’s going on? Did I just say I loved you? Bloody hell…” Fred’s head was spinning and you tried to calm him down. 
“Hey, it’s alright, don’t worry Fred.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him closer to you. “What do you remember?”
You didn’t know how this specific love potion worked in regards to memories. Whether Fred would completely forget the last two days or if he would remember them completely, you had no idea. Either way you planned on filling him in on everything. He deserved to know. 
“I, umm, I remember eating a brownie, and, and I needed to tell you something, but you looked too beautiful and I couldn’t. And all I wanted to do was tell you how amazing and incredible you are...and there was detention, and a picnic, and--did I really sing that song to you in front of everyone?”
You laughed at the boy who finally felt the embarrassment of his actions. “Yes you did Freddie, but it’s not your fault.”
He furrowed his brow at you. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” you began, “you know how you’re an insufferable twat who likes to prank me all the time?”
Fred smiled and gently nudged your shoulder. “That I do know, continue.”
“So, Angelina and I decided to get back at you, using my expertise in potions.”
His face dropped. “Potions? What potions? Did you use a potion on me?”
You felt horrible having to explain this to your friend. While nothing bad happened during the last two days, you couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Fred. “You see, we sort of concocted a love potion to give you, as a joke--”
“What?” he screamed incredulously. 
You jumped as he spoke and he pulled his hands back from you. 
“A love potion? Are you serious?”
“I-I’m sorry Freddie, we didn’t think you’d get this upset, it was honestly--”
“So this… all of this?” Fred looked as if he was going to explode. He was tugging at his hair so hard you expected him to pull it out. “You toyed with me? You played with my feelings? So everything I’ve felt for you the last year has been nothing more than a stupid love potion?”
You were taken aback by his harsh words, dumbstruck by the side of Fred you’d never seen before. He was furious, and not at Snape or Malfoy like usual. He was furious with you. 
“Fred, what--”
“I can’t believe you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since the summer and now I find out that my feelings aren’t even real, just one big joke. Is that all I am? Just a joke to you?”
What was he talking about? The potion didn’t make up false memories of love. He shouldn’t have been in love with you for longer than the 48 hours. You reached forward to put your hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off. 
“Freddie,” you began, “we gave you the potion two days ago. Everything else was...not our doing. I promise you that. We just thought it would be a fun joke and we knew it would rub off quickly. But I swear, we haven’t been toying with you. I care about you too much to do that.”
You’d never seen Fred look more confused in his entire life, and that was counting the time that you took polyjuice to make yourself look like him and convince him that you were his long lost triplet. 
“You...I...only two days?” He turned to face the edge of the tower, staring into the sunrise. You moved with him and ended up sitting in front of him, so close that you were practically on his lap. 
“I gave you the potion thinking that you were going to fall in love with Lee. But you of course had to ruin the plan and fall in love with me instead. Everything you’ve been feeling for the past two days in fake. But other than that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your brain was racing with possibilities of what he could mean about the last year. It settled on one, but there was no way that could be it. 
You rubbed your thumb over Fred’s knuckles soothingly as you watched him try to comprehend what was going on. “So, the butterflies I got when I saw you in a swimsuit over the summer? The way my heart beats faster every time you look at me? The way I can feel myself falling in love with everything you do? That’s not...that’s not fake?”
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Butterflies? Heart beating? Falling in love? “Fred, if this is some sort of reverse joke to get back at me it’s not funny at all.”
He shifted and pulled you into a tight hug as he noticed your vulnerability, so uncommon with you. “Of course this isn’t a joke, love. But you have to tell me, was it all real? Please tell me it was all real and that the potion’s over with now.”
You smiled and felt small tears prick your eyes. “The potions over, Freddie. Whatever you felt before and whatever you feel now...it’s real. There’s no spell on you anymore.”
Fred pulled back from the hug and cupped your cheek in his hands. His eyes seared into yours and you never wanted to look away. “Y’know,” you whispered, “sometimes I wonder if you’ve got me under a spell.”
Fred laughed and twisted your hair in his fingers. You thought he had never looked more handsome laughing at you in the morning light. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, love.”
You scoffed at his remark. “You got up and sang that to me in front of the entire school!” you nearly shouted, slapping his chest. 
“Yeah, while I was literally under a love potion that you gave me! Just that desperate for me, are you?”
You knew he was joking, but he was poking at the truth. “Maybe I am Freddie, maybe I--”
But you didn’t have time to finish, because you were cut off by his lips on yours. It caught you by surprise, but it wasn’t long until you melted into the kiss. His one hand rested on the small of your back and the other moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. 
You sighed into the long overdue kiss and crawled on top of the love of your life, straddling his hips.
Your hands played with his hair like they had countless times before, but this time it was different. This time it really meant something, to the both of you. Fred pulled you closer and you shifted so you were pushing him onto his back. Unfortunately, neither of you were very aware of your surroundings and his head hit the radio, forcing it to change stations. 
The two of you giggled and continued to make out in the morning sun, but you stopped once you heard the song that came on. 
“Is that…” you asked. 
“It can’t be. There’s no way.”
But the radio was without a doubt playing the song that the whole school was now familiar with. You sat up and stared at Fred, eyes asking him if he somehow planned this. 
Fred just shrugged and pulled you back onto him. “Must be magic love.” You smiled and went in to kiss him again. As the song ended Fred spoke the last lyrics into you, sending shivers down your spine. 
“But everything you do is magic.”
211 notes · View notes
junicai · 4 years
Text
NCT World 2.0
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-> Episode One & Two; Aria focus
a/n: im not going to write out some of the bits in the show where aria isn’t hugely present, so if you havent watched nct world yet, A: i highly recommend u do its the best thing ever and B: you might be a little confused from all the time skips :)
a/n2: also no one yell at me for my lack of technical knowledge in ice skating im a ballroom dancer hjkhdj if someone would like to Correct Me id be very thankful
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Multiverse; A theory of multiple universes. 
A universe in which multiple times and spaces exist, and people who go beyond time; the first idol group ever to film a multiverse reality show.
This is NCT World 2.0. 
Share all time and space with NCT!
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Attention! We present to you, the 24 NCT members!
Aria appeared partially from behind one of the pillars, sticking her head out and letting her hair swing from the ponytail it was pulled up into. She had her face schooled into a searching expression - eyes wide - before she jumped out from behind the pillar and let her face break into a smile. 
Aria waved with both hands, twirling around once to show off the champagne colored shirt dress she wore. With the cropped pink V-neck sweater donned on top of the light material, she looked the epitome of comfort; the only contrast being the black boots Aria wore on her feet to match her newly darkened hair.
While the cube lights flickered through various shades of green, spelling out ‘NCT’ in their flashing lights, it was revealed that she was on the lowest level of the three stories - her individual cube located in between Hendery’s and Jaemin’s on the left side. 
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The worldwide idol group, NCT.
All 24 members, will be travelling through time and space.
Their multiverse journey begins now.. Not only time, space, and chaos, but past, and future! Aren’t you dying to find out about the NCT members’ journey through them all?
NCT World 2.0. The start of time and space travelling, begins now!
Keep your eyes wide open. 
Aria leant forwards towards the camera that was positioned in the upper hand of her cube, squinting slightly before she realized that the red blinking light belonged to the recording device suspended on the wall.
She proceeded to crouch down, bringing her hands together in front of her and extending her fingers into a small gun, looking all-too-cuddly to be intimidating. Her thin dress fluttered down around her, barely brushing the floor, but her boots made a small squeak to protest the movement. 
With a small pew she flicked her fingers up to mimic a gun shooting before bursting out into embarrassed laughter at her own actions, standing up while brushing the dust off her knees.
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Welcome members! I’m Super Human, and I rule the multiverse. This is a condensed place, of every time and place since April 15th, 2016, to the present in 2020. In other words, you’re stuck in a hurricane of time and space. 
To escape this space, you must clear 24 missions. If you want to escape, you have to try your best in these missions. 
“Ah,” Aria sighed, looking at the black box in front of her from her chair. The green question mark on the lid was bright and loud, almost mocking her. “I’m scared.” 
She checked over on Jisung, leaning out of her cube, who had a similar face to hers only he was staring ahead and not at the ominous black box in front of her.
“Jisungie,” Aria leant over and out of her box to call down to the younger boy, twisting her legs around to sit sideways on the chair so she could face him properly. “You know, you’ll probably face the first mission because you’re in the first cube~” She teased. 
Jisung sent her a withering look, a mix between a low grumble and a petulant whine coming out of his throat. “Noona! No!” 
Aria only raised her eyebrows at him, before turning back to the front. 
I will now call out the first member who will do a mission.
NCT’s youngest member, Jisung!
Aria threw her head back in a laugh with a clap of her hands before she looked over to Jisung’s hunched form. He had buried his face in his hands momentarily, only peeking back out at the rallying cries of his hyungs. 
“Whoo! Go Jisung!” Aria joined in, making sure to cup her hands around her mouth to ensure her voice was heard over the other boys yelling. 
Jisung was called out to slide open the lid of his mystery box, and he did so with slightly reddened cheeks and a lip worried between teeth. He removed the lid gently before placing it down on the ground to the side, revealing two unfamiliar objects. 
Pulling them out with careful hands, Aria felt her heart sink into her stomach. 
There went her plans of escaping for an early night’s sleep. 
Upon watching the demonstration video, she could hear the teasing remarks coming from their fellow dream members, even Jisung himself muttering that this was bad, bad indeed. 
Jisung set the drone on the floor after moving the box and its corresponding lid a safe distance away, before beginning his foolproof method of getting the drone to switch on - sans instructions:
Press every single button, and hope it did something useful. 
Aria leant back towards Hendery in her chair. “You know, Jisungie is really bad at things like this.” She explained, Hendery leaning forward to better hear her.
“Oh yeah?” 
Aria nodded. “He types like-” she made a motion of pressing keys with only her index fingers. 
Aria let out a breath, before settling back into her chair more comfortably. “Ah, we’re going to be here a while.”
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Aria slid out of her chair to make her way over to Yangyang where the boy was standing back, head tilted, staring down his table covered with the red cloth. Bending down, she picked up one of the candles that had come loose from the candelabra, slotting it in while Yuta and Sicheng moved to pick up the other utensils that had slid from the table. 
Setting the table up again, now with Jisung and Johnny’s help as well, Aria stood back to let Yangyang pull the red cloth out from underneath everything stacked on top. 
Yuta rest his hand on the back of his neck, before stepping away as well. Yangyang took a deep breath, schooling his nerves before raising his arms and pulling the tablecloth with all his might.
The candles, two chalices and bowl came crashing to the ground again. A resounding sound of pity came from all the members, and Yangyang stomped his foot slightly, lips pressed together. 
“It’s okay! Here, maybe try putting everything in the one bowl, that might help.” Aria came in from the sidelines, hands reaching out to collect the plastic food from Johnny’s clutches and tossed it back into the bowl before the other objects were stacked on top. 
Yuta made the motions of having a big arc before pulling out the red cloth, and Yangyang followed his directive - yanking both the cloth and all of the place decorations off in one fell swoop. One of the chalices hit his leg, and he yelped slightly, lifting his leg into the air to prevent further damage to his shin. 
“Maybe try bending down?” Aria offered, crouching in a demonstration. 
Yangyang bent in front of the table, before shaking his head and standing back up - looking more and more defeated with each passing failed attempt. “No, no this isn’t it.”
Taking a steadying breath he pulled out the cloth again, this time only the candelabra falling off the table. 
“Oh! That was close!” Aria cheered, fist bumping the air minutely. Her tiny cheer was heard by Yuta who was standing close by, and he pulled her into his side in a brief side-hug, his hand bringing her head in to touch his shoulder while he smiled and cheered Yangyang on as well. 
Lucas appeared from behind the black pillars coming to stand behind the pair, having come from the third floor to offer his guidance. 
“Oh hey, Lucas.” Aria looked at him briefly, before doing a double take. “Lucas?” 
Hendery burst out into laughter, “Lucas! Hey, what are you doing here?”
Slowly, Yangyang’s cube became crowded, with people coming down from each floor to help the boy out with what they could offer. 
“Your gesture is too big! Use a small one. Like this.” Lucas demonstrated his idea by extending and then pulling his arms in sharply to his sides, all in one swift horizontal movement. 
Hendery snorted quietly, “Give it a go then!” he teased. 
When Lucas re-laid the red cloth over the table, Johnny was quick to set down three of the utensils on top of it, stepping back and gesturing for Lucas to make his attempt. 
The boys surrounding the table laughed as Lucas set himself up, bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly before tugging the cloth out from underneath the silverware.
The knife clattered to the ground, and the boys erupted into laughter at Lucas’ embarrassed face. 
Aria turned to rest her head on Jisung’s back, turning her head so her cheek was smooshed against the soft brown material. Jisung startled slightly, but adjusted his stance to accommodate for the extra weight without a word. Aria let her hands come around his waist to rest on his stomach, and Jisung placed a hand on top of hers.
He patted her arm lightly, asking a question without words, and Aria nodded - knowing that he’d feel it through the thin material. 
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The next mission is for Winwin. Winwin’s mission is to do five yoga poses. Do five poses for five seconds each to complete the mission.
As the five images of the poses Sicheng was meant to replicate flashed onto the screen Aria scanned them quickly, recognizing them all from her nightly routine before she went to sleep. 
“Aria! Don’t you do this as well?” Donghyuck called down to her, some of the poses looking familiar to him as well.
Captions appeared across the screen:
Aria does meditation and yoga each night before she goes to sleep...
Aria nodded, looking down her floor row to Sicheng. “Yeah!” She called back, hearing the ooohs coming from various members across the floors.
Sicheng cleared the first four poses easily, moving fluidly through the motions without barely a wobble, until the final pose through a spanner in the mechanics of his otherwise flawless performance up until then.
Crouched down, Sicheng was to lean forward onto his arms and let his knees come to rest on the backs of his biceps - holding himself horizontal to the ground with only his arm strength to keep him from face planting. 
Upon his first attempt he tipped forward too far, coming to rest his forehead on the cool ground before he let his legs drop and he sat back onto his knees. 
“This is impossible!” He half chucked to himself, looking around to the other members with wide eyes.
Aria stood from her chair, winding behind Yuta and Yangyang’s cubes before appearing in Sicheng’s, already kneeling down so that she could help him. 
“Look, look Winwin - like this.” Aria pressed her two palms a shoulder width apart on the floor, flexing her fingers momentarily before pushing herself up onto her hands. 
Her legs followed suit cleanly, shifting into the pretzel-like position. Johnny’s hand extended to catch the back of her dress to make sure it didn’t flip up too far.
“Whoo hoo!” Jaehyun cheered on Aria, the other boys soon rallying on.
Coming back down, she flicked the hair out of her face before turning to face Sicheng. 
“Place your hands bent in, like this,” Aria moved his hands to be angled inwards slightly, “And squeeze your triceps as hard as possible, okay?” 
“Like this?” Sicheng made a small attempt at it, holding the pose for a few seconds longer than he had previously before tilting out of it.
“That’s it!” Aria encouraged.
“Let me practice it once.” Sicheng requested from the staff, and he pressed himself into the yoga pose for a moment before sitting back on his haunches with a new determined expression.
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Aria graciously accepted the half-full cup of cherry juice from Jeno’s mission, descending the stairs after having collected her cup from the top floor. Moving back to her own cube, she sat down onto the chair and slid the straw between her lips after sniffing the pink liquid curiously.
Taking a small sip, she pulled the cup away to look at the juice again, before humming in delight. 
“Jeno!” she called up to the still-cycling boy. “It’s good! Thank you!"
She could hear an acknowledging grunt from the aforementioned boy, and she winced, knowing that his legs were definitely burning at this point. Cycling power to blend cherry juice was a unique brand of torture - she had to hand it to the producers honestly.
Although, they could have been nicer in their selection of the chairs; the hard plastic was unforgiving as Aria shifted in her seat, her back aching from the metal bars that she leaned against. The flimsy dress did nothing to protect her legs from the hard lip of the seat, and she knew that when she stood back up she’d have two red lines imprinted on the backs of her thighs.
Aria shifted again, uncrossing her legs before crossing them the other way. The straw of the juice found it’s way back into her mouth and she pre-occupied herself by turning to start a conversation with Jaemin.
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“Challenge! Accept the challenge!” Aria’s screech halted Hendery’s hands in their movements, fingertips only a centimeter away from the first domino.
He jerked backwards, pulling his hands into his chest before blurting out, “Hendery! Challenge accepted!” with a startled look on his face.
Aria settled back into her chair, letting her outstretched arms fall back to her sides as she exhaled in relief. She wasn’t sure she could sit through another eight minutes of Hendery and Yuta setting up more dominos with a straight face.
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Next up is Jaemin and Aria. Open the Mystery Box!
Aria and Jaemin exchanged a curious look, bending down in tandem to the box that sat at their feet. Aria slid off her chair into a crouch in front of the black plastic box, sliding off the lid with nimble fingers and placing it upturned on the ground beside it.
Beside her, Jaemin had already lifted out what was inside his own box, and Aria let out a startled burst of laughter upon seeing what her own box contained.
A small figurine of Aria - no older than twelve - clad in her old competition dress, one leg held up behind her with her fingers clasped around the boot below the blade, and her other hand extended delicately in front of her.
Upon recognizing the small face on the figurine, Jaemin leant over to Aria.
“Is this you?” He asked, pointing to the figurine.
“Yeah,” Aria laughed, cheeks flushed slightly, and she dropped the figurine to bury her head in her hands. “Oh, why.” 
This mission is split into two parts.
 For Jaemin, part one: Hop on a hoverboard and follow the last spin which was a finale of Miyazu Aria’s short program in 2012. 
For Aria, part two: Slide on a pair of ‘super skates’ and follow your member through a sequence of steps from your own routine - but you only have five minutes to complete this mission.
Aria’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows knitting together in mock annoyance.
“Hey!” she called out indignantly. 
Yangyang was laughing at her misfortune. “It’s because you’re good at this already - no one else here has that.”
“I haven’t skated in years!”  
Aria was interrupted by Superhuman’s voice. 
We will show you the video. Play!
Aria’s younger self flickered to view on the large screen, and Aria scrunched her eyes closed to help block out the hollers from the others.
Young-Aria unfolded herself from her starting position and began to move across the ice, before the video cut to the end turning sequence for Jaemin’s mission.
Jaemin beside her fell quiet, leaning forward in his seat to watch the turns more precisely. As a young-Aria spun her way through the final bars of the music, Aria could her the exclamations around her.
“Wow, is that even possible?” 
“Wait that’s cool!”
“Oh my god.” 
The video cut back - showing a few seconds of young-Aria skating in a wide circle before beginning the step sequence that Aria would have to remember. 
Fortunately for her, she was pretty sure that she did remember this routine for the most part - having been one of the ones she enjoyed a great deal while learning. The steps were labelled as they appeared on the screen for the other members, appearing as follows: 
A bracket. Aria remembered royally bruising her hip the first time she had attempted one of those unsupervised. She had been too confident, and turned her body without having given herself enough time to do so, her balance catching at the same time her toe-pick did, and she came crashing down with a dull thud onto the ice. 
An outside three turn. Simple enough, but Aria did wonder how she was going to do edges on wheels - knowing that they weren’t sharpened like blades were. 
And, to finish, a two foot spin. 
Only three steps, which Aria was thankful for given her time constraints.  
The video cut out, and Jaemin and Aria were handed their equipment by the staff who emerged from behind the scenes. 
As it would turn out, the super skates were nothing more than a pair of inline rollerblades, painted a neon green to match the lights running parallel to the ceiling. 
Aria sat herself down on her chair, bending forward to undo the long laces that wrapped around the black boots she wore. It was times like this that she questioned the stylists - they had given her a pair of flesh-coloured tights  to wear underneath the safety-shorts earlier on, but the rough plastic of the super skates was most definitely going to rub a hole through the thin material.
She bit her lip, before deciding that nothing could be done about it now. 
Sliding her feet out of the boots, she quickly laced up the horrifically bright roller skates - rolling her ankles side to side to test out the tension and to make sure that they weren’t too loose or tight. 
Already, getting out of her chair posed a challenge. When weight was put onto the skates the wheels rolled forwards, which left Aria to wobble herself into an upright position, hands clasped onto the back of the chair to keep herself steady. 
When the flimsy plastic chair began to tilt, she let go quickly - flailing slightly before she regained her balance precariously, arms extended in a stop motion. 
“Oh god, this is different.” She muttered to herself, shooting a small glare to Jaemin who snickered at her. 
Aria took a breath before moving to go forward, stopping suddenly when she realized that she’d changed her shoes in the most inopportune place. 
The lip from the edge of the cube was barely a half foot high, but she didn’t fancy a concussion at that particular moment. 
Holding out her right hand, Aria looked over to Jaemin expectantly. He bit his lip as if trying to hold back a giggle but took her hand wordlessly nonetheless, helping her over the step with the other hand resting on her hip to make sure she didn’t slip. 
Aria pat him on the back in thanks and waited for him to move away slightly before she began testing out the skates. 
She was pleasantly surprised to find a fair amount of similarities - and soon she was skating smoothly in circles to get a feel for the floor. Moving at a fairly moderate pace, Aria was comfortable enough to test out something more complex, swiveling her bodyweight side to side to skate in an S shape. 
“I think it’s okay!” She called out. “It’s pretty similar - I don’t think I’ll fall.”
She could hear Renjun’s grumbles at not getting a giggle out of her falling (he didn’t want her to fall badly, just a teeny one), but she chose to not acknowledge it on camera. 
Happy with how the skates and flooring felt, Aria’s next thought was how to incorporate the steps into a smaller space - the studio room was significantly smaller than a regular rink, and she didn’t want to accidentally smack into a wall. 
Speaking of smacking into walls-
“Oh, OH how do you stop!” Aria’s screech was met with a burst of laughter from the others, who had been watching her skate in circles for the last minute or so. 
Putting pressure on the left toe-stop, Aria spun in a circle once, twice, before she slowed to a stop. 
Her face was bright, breathing heavily, eyes sparking at the adrenaline that came with nearly falling on your butt. “So, that’s different.”
“Yeah? How’d you stop normally?” Mark’s voice echoed down, the boy in question sitting forward on his seat so that he could hear her better.
“I mean, normally you’d,” Aria cut herself off by pushing herself into a smooth glide, picking up a little speed before trying to use the rollerblades to drag herself into a stop. 
Aria pushes downwards and back with her legs, trying to hone in on the long-embedded muscle memory that would help her. On ice, the blade would catch and grip the ice to give her a ledge to push herself off of and change her direction.
Using her leg strength, she bent down and pushed.
“Woah!-” Aria’s weight tipped forward, arms windmilling to stop herself face planting into the ground.
The boys let out exclamations in kind, Doyoung sitting up straighter in his chair and Kun scrunching one eye closed in fear that she’d fall. The others reacted similarly, Yuta’s hand dropping quickly to the edge of his chair as if to push himself out of it, and Jungwoo let out a loud aah in sympathy with a wince.
On ice the blades would have gripped, but on the inline wheels her leg flew out from behind herself. She barely managed to right herself, wobbling slightly before she regained her balance.
"You alright, Riri?" Donghyuck's voice echoed down from his cube, looking slightly stiff in his attempt to appear nonchalant despite his tensed shoulders.
Aria made sure her thumbs up was big enough for him to see, and he responded with a rallying cheer and a clap.
Mark spluttered slightly, “You didn’t - I didn’t mean show me you could have just told me-”
Aria giggled at him, waving him off with a laugh and carried on skating in small circles. Checking the time on the clock at the back of the studio, she realized that she’d been skating for over three minutes, and now only had two minutes to complete her challenge. 
“Whoops whoops, ok. Ok, you got this.” She mumbled to herself, gathering her nerves for the first attempt at a bracket. 
She pushed herself into a skate, gliding into a smooth circle before letting her weight transfer onto her right foot, twisted inwards on a forward inside edge. After a moment she hopped slightly, using the split second of airtime to flick her foot around so that her heel leaded her skating backwards, still balanced on the one foot.
Letting out a small cheer of celebration, she did it a couple more times before she was sure she had gotten a hand of it.
Quickly practicing the other two moves she had to replicate, Aria slid herself to a shaky stop, poised in the corner of the floor.
“Aria, challenge accepted!” 
Aria skated through her tiny program with ease, wobbling slightly when it came to the two foot spin when her boots clicked together slightly but regaining her balance after coming out of it slightly prematurely. 
She did a flourish with her arm to distract from that fact, hoping that the staff would be kind enough to ignore the minor blip. 
The short step sequence was fluid, Aria skating through it with ease and she pulled herself to a stop using the rubber toe-stops in the centre of the room, folding herself into a dramatic pose in a mimicry of the swan-pose her younger self had done in their program. 
The members clapped, Lucas’ hoot being heard over them all and Aria bowed (and made a wobbly attempt at a curtsy) before making her way back over to her chair.
Jaemin was already waiting with an extended arm, and Aria grasped his hand gratefully as he helped her back up over the ledge and then sit in her chair.
She looked up expectantly at the screen.
Mission sucessful!
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Aria cringed upon hearing Mark’s mission. 
“Oh god poor Mark.” she exchanged a look with Jaemin, who just nodded sadly, lips pressed together.
“Should I go up and help him?” she whispered conspiratorially to him, side-eyeing the male staff member who was in the corner of her vision.
“I think,” Jaemin paused, hearing Donghyuck’s scolding already begin to start. “I think, unless you want to be a witness to his murder - it’s best to stay down here.”
Aria hummed her agreement, settling back into her chair. 
Rest in peace, Markie. 
But, seven minutes in to his challenge, Aria had had enough, making her way up to join the other boys who had already gathered to get a better look at Mark’s egg-making station currently in shambles.
“Look! Stop touching it you’ll break it! Leave the poor egg alone!” she batted away Mark’s wandering hand with the chopsticks. 
Mark jerked his hand away. “Sorry, sorry! Are they not done though?” 
Aria looked at him up through her eyebrows. “I- no. You just put them in.”
He sighed, looking at the eggs with a glum sort of resignation. His shoulders slumped, and Aria felt a pit of regret forming in the bottom of her stomach.
It’s not his fault he can’t cook eggs.
Aria resorted to wrapping her arms around his apron-clad middle, aiming to offer some comfort by pressing her cheek to his back. They stayed that way for a moment, before she jerked and pulled back rapidly like she’d been burned.
“Oh, shoot. Sorry sorry-” 
“What?” 
“I got make-up on your back sorry-” Aria scrubbed with her fingers to try and remove the half skin-toned, half pink stain that had rubbed onto the white material from her foundation and blush. 
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“Doyoung hyung, Kun hyung, Jaemin hyung, Aria noona, Mark hyung, Sungchan!”
Aria cheered when Sungchan finished out the names quickly, standing up from her chair to clap emphatically. She waved her hands around in small fists in celebration, looking over to Hendery with a wide-eyed expression of relief at the knowledge that they’re allowed go home after this.
Filming had run late into the night, and after six and a half hours of sitting in the same chair, Aria was thrilled to see the end of the plastic torture on her tailbone.
“Good job Sungchan!” she called up to the boy. He had really looked like he was about to cry from the stress of it all, and before they stumbled back into the car she was going to be sure to give him a hug for getting through it all. 
Because all of you succeeded on your mission, you can escape the time vortex. If you leave this time and space, another time and space will be waiting for you. 
I hope you will be able to complete the journey ahead of you.
Let’s meet again. Farewell. Goodbye.
“Goodbye Mr. Superhuman!” Aria yelled, hands cupped around her mouth, before coughing slightly. 
“Ah, I don’t think I’ll have a voice after all this,” she muttered, before resuming her yelling without a care.
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Ice-Skating Queen Aria leaves with a royal flourish...
Aria pressed her fingertips to her lips before holding her palm face-up and paused lightly, before blowing the kiss off her fingertips with a wink. With her other hand extended downwards and out to her side with her hand flexed horizontally, she looked a perfect-mimicry of how one would draw an anime character.
Fluttering her fingertips at the camera in a salute, she turned and walked away to the back wall before disappearing in a wave of colour.
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“Sungchan! Hold on, wait one second.” 
The boy in question turned around, stepping out of the group that were beginning to file out of the door. 
“Noona?” 
Aria rounded the corner, boots in hand. She waved to make sure that Sungchan had seen her, before jogging slightly to catch up. 
“Hey!” She smiled brightly, before catching him around the waist and pulling him into a hug. Her boots swung a little from where she had her fingers knotted into the laces to hold onto them both. 
Sungchan stumbled slightly - unprepared - and accepted the hug tenderly, his hands coming over Aria’s shoulders to pat awkwardly at her back. “...noona?” 
She pulled back, smiling at him again before moving out of his personal space. “Sorry, I just. Wanted to give you a hug, that’s all.” 
Sungchan’s eyes widened slightly, before his surprise crested over into gratefulness. He opened his arms again tentatively, prepared for a rejection that never came.
Aria stepped into the circle of his arms without another moment’s persuasion, this time letting her arms wrap around his shoulders - that’s a lot of shoulder - because Sungchan had bent down to meet her. 
“Woah!” 
Aria was lifted off her feet in a split second, her arms tightening around Sungchan’s shoulders. His arms came to lift her up, now carrying her full weight in his arms. 
“Not that I don’t appreciate the hug - I do - but, why?” Aria questioned after a moment. 
Sungchan responded by pulling her boots out of her hands. “Your heels are bleeding - and it’s rained outside while we were filming.” 
She exhaled a breath of surprise. “Oh - Oh that’s okay, I don’t mind really, I can walk - it’s not that far to the vans anyway.” 
“The ground is wet, and it’s dark so you can’t see.”
Aria closed her mouth on the protest that was already forming. “O-okay, thank you.” Her voice was soft, and she knocked her head against Sungchan’s shoulder in thanks. 
“No problem.” His limbs were awkward in their attempt to maneuver Aria into a more comfortable position - and yes, it was not the most comfortable of silences, but Aria saw that Yuta had waited by the doorway in silence, having told the Japanese girl earlier that he’d help her to the car. 
Over Sungchan’s shoulder, she nodded that it was okay, and Yuta disappeared through the doorway after a moment.
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cowboyjen68 · 3 years
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hi jen! i just want to say thank you for showing us your happy lesbian life and being accepting of all the stripes of the LGBT community. lately i've been struggling questioning whether i'm a trans man or a butch woman after starting to present more masculine and dealing with some discomfort about my body. seeing you be proudly yourself makes me realize that there's no wrong answer, and no matter what my gender ends up being, there's no wrong way to dress or act as long as i'm being myself. sending my love to you <3
The stories we are each best at telling are our own, at least that rings true for me and for those from who I have learned the most.
I didn't start off this blog to have any affect on anyone. Writing and story telling are two things I love to do and wanted to combine them but once I realized that butch lesbians my age were just not "out there" to be accessible to younger lesbians of all type i knew I had found a larger reason to upkeep this blog. 
We were everywhere but often not in the places we can be seen by more than than those living in our area. Butches like me, run of the mill, living my life, navigating the budgets and chaos and loving my life types are not in the media or on social media except within friend groups for the most part.
I can tell you.. my body and I.. we were NOT always friends. I wasn't always like .. cool.. this is the way my body is and its okay. First, puberty sucked as the new kid in my school (4th grade) and as a tomboy and as a female (I am STILL salty about being told to put on a shirt at 7 yo in the middle of a hot summer day. ) Even though I had no concept of what gender or sex or sexuality meant it was a fast hard peek into what our culture expected of me as a woman. AND I didn't like what I saw so I just defaulted to toeing the line on hair and clothing and behaviors that would get me to "pass" and being a girl correctly. UGH.. I was fooling very few people LOL
I lost a lot of time when, in a neutral world, I would have had the time to practice the art of dating women when my peers were dating. I should have been really outgoing and not afraid to write what I felt and thought, which my English teacher was encouraging me to do. Maybe I would have taken to the stage, practiced my story telling or been more in the public light at a younger age when I could have made a career out of it.
BUT maybe.. this is the silver lining, my stories would not be as interesting, my drive to let others know they are not alone and their journey is at once their own and a shared experience if I had not lived the exact life I live would not exist. .
Take your time, don't get the tattoo just yet LOL. Listen to the stories of butches and trans men and others in the middle. You'll connect to each in small ways but at some point you will feel that deeper connection, that relatability that drives home what you have probably known on some level all along BUT social media, culture and even peers have clouded with lots of outside influence and opinions. 
Be happy for you and you alone. Those that love you will love you. I am glad you found me and I have no doubt you’ll figure it all out and life will be grand!
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thirstystarkey · 4 years
Text
HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK
Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.
Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat
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CHAPTER 05
The sun beamed down on them, a soft breeze was felt and the serenity of sunrise at the cut was ethereal. Y/N slowly woke up, the sunlight stealing her from her dream state, it was too bright outside which made difficult to open her eyes but still she could feel a hot and heavy limb on top of her stomach, JJ had rolled in his sleep and at the moment was almost cuddling the girl he so dearly swore he hated.
“JJ..” Y/N called softly trying to wake him up.
The only answer she got from him was a muffled complaint, something along the lines “Let me sleep tiny temper.”
JJ always teased Y/N for her height, it was almost religious for him. She was shorter than all the pogues but probably the fiercest. She was the only one who answered right back at JJ’s stupid sayings.
“You’re pushing you’re luck.” Y/N mumbled taking JJ’s arms off of her.
“Wanna know something really interesting, that I’ve always wanted to tell you?” JJ asked the girl with a raspy low morning voice. Y/N cursed herself for thinking it was kinda hot.
“What is that Maybank?” She answered with curiosity filling her body.
“Any shorter and you’d probably fade out of existence.” The blond boy winked at the redhead, supporting this body in both elbows.
“Jesus Christ JJ, fuck you and your stupid bullshit.” Y/N raged while getting up, stepping inside to shower in the microscopic bathroom the boat had.
“You wish you did baby.” He laughed and more said it to himself but she still captured it.
Once free of JJ Maybank, Y/N washed her face with cold water in the attempt to calm her down. This time it was different. She didn’t understood it. JJ was acting different around her. More provocative and way more suggestive.
“Stupid ass mop head..”
That was the last thing she said before striping bare naked and running pleasant lukewarm over her body. She felt relaxed after all that tension built first thing in the morning. Running her hands through her ginger hair while spreading shampoo all over it, almost felt therapeutic and Y/N was sure that if JJ wasn’t around she’d probably had already sang her lung out, preforming the best show to the bottles.
But all that peace couldn’t last when JJ Maybank was in the same boat as Y/N, while she was rinsing off the conditioner the door swang open and Y/N could hear and feel JJ walking.
“JJ seriously?” She asked in a high pitched voice. “Get the fuck out, don’t you see I’m naked, in the shower.”
“Oh dear don’t think too much of it, I just need to piss.” He said like it wasn’t a big deal.
Y/N was reder than a tomato behind the blue curtain separating the pair. She could head everything, even though she wished she didn’t.
“You are disgusting Maybank.” She made sure to speak loud enough for the boy to hear. He flushed to toilet ruining the nice water temperature, almost freezing Y/N in place. “Fuck you mop head, get out JJ!” She demanded in a pretty annoyed voice when she realized he didn’t leave and by now her shower was finished.
“I need to brush my teeth, vertically challenged.” JJ sassed.
“And I need to dry off.” Y/N sassed back.
“Then dry, I’m not hiding the towels.” He laughed with a mouth filled by toothpaste.
“You can’t be serious.” She said holding her body trying to cover herself. “Pass me the fucking towel at least.” She requested, not to nicely.
“Don’t think so.” JJ said and Y/N fumed at his voice. She didn’t really care anymore. Y/N was over the pettiness in their fights.
“You know what? Fuck this.” She said before opening the curtain.
Y/N was quicker than a fox, grabbing the towel and wrapping the soft fabric around her in seconds. JJ was fast to turn his head not to look at her, he never wanted to make her uncomfortable even if he enjoyed teasing her past was tolerated. He got a glance at her body, now wrapped in a towel.
“Fuck you.” Y/N looked at him through the mirror while brushing her teeth.
They were sharing a bathroom. A small bathroom.
“You smell nice.” JJ said to her after putting down his toothbrush, she felt his breath hitting her skin making Y/N flinch.
“Can’t say the same thing about you.” Y/N answered with a big smile on her face leaving JJ alone to shower.
While he did she got dressed, in the same clothes as the day before but with a bikini she found lost at the boat instead. She recognized it as on of her own. When JJ stepped out of the bathroom he didn’t care to put on a shirt staying only in his black surf shorts.
They both sat waiting for their friends to pick them up from this cruel prison. Y/N’s mind traveled to a far place keeping her lost in her own thoughts, that at this moment consisted in JJ. The hot sun hitted his skin making it glisten, but a voice woke her from her daydream.
“Stop staring at me.” JJ laughed rising his sunglasses to look directly at her. “Or take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He winked before putting them back on.
Y/N didn’t got down without a fight, and if he wanted to play dirty so she could. And sure enough the girl got up taking of her shirt caughting the boy off guard.
“I will make sure it’s my new porn.” She sneered with a filtry voice, stealing JJ’s sunglasses.
Y/N won again and this time she wasn’t even trying to. She went inside grabbing one of the surfboards making sure to get rid of her shorts in the process.
“Now who’s the one staring.” She teased him when she caught JJ trying not to stare at her.
There were no waves in the river but still she could just peaceful float in her surfboard while the pogues made their way to pick them up. That was her plan but JJ followed her steps jumping in the water, ruining her peaceful moment, he swam to her, supporting his elbows close to her in the surfboard.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” JJ started.
“Well then don’t think to much about it or your little head might explode.” She joked leaning forward.
“We should prank them.” The boy suggested. “They deserve it!”
“As much as I hate to admit it, JJ you are totally right.” Y/N agreed while the sun warmed her skin. It was a nice day today.
“We need a plan smart ass.” He said. “I need you and your plotting brain.”
“I know you do.” She said with eyes closed.
Everything about it screamed recipe for disaster but in a strange way it brought happiness to Y/N.
“Oh shit-” JJ screamed after trying to get on the other side of the surfboard, making it turn upside down. Y/N fell into the water.
Taking by surprise she made her way back to the surface, ready to scream at JJ who had all of his hair wet and stuck to his face, making her laught at the view, quickly he shook his head and his hair went in every direction and back, splashing Y/N’s eyes.
“You idiot!” She flinched closing her eyes, splashing him back.
“I guess this is how Jack and Rose die in titanic.” The blond boy bantered.
“Because it takes finesse and focus, none of which you have.” She bantered back at him trying to get back up on the surfboard. “Carefully JJ!” She warned him while he mimicked her moves. “I am really the brains of this relationship.”
“Stopping being so full of yourself princess.” He sassed.
By the time they both found balance Y/N saw the HMS pogue getting closer and closer, but for some reason she didn’t want to leave now and she cursed her thought shaking her head right away in the attempt to shut her thought.
“Look they’re alive! They didn’t kill each other.” She heard Pope cheer in the distance, JJ laughed with a open smile at the comment and Y/N followed observing him.
Why didn’t she wanted to leave? That question burned her head.
Tag list 💞
@thatsonobx @starkeybaby @this-is-bigger-than--us @ahhireallydontknow @tomzfrog @alotbnouf @outerbankstings @jj-maybank-stan @jellyfishbeansontoast @rafecamerondeservesbetter @im-a-strange-thing @tangledinsparkles @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @helplessquotess @tembo-ndoto @poguebx @k-k0129 @grincheuxsalope @pleaseminho @obxmxybxnk @stilinskiandsuch @certainstatesmantoadartisan @lcil123 @fandom-phaser @sexualparkour @myrandom-fandomlife @outofstyles13 @lasnaro @kristineee-obx @sw-eat-ing @strangebirds2 @kiarascarreras @jjswhore @milamaybank @marveloucnco @downbytheouterbanks @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @annedub @drizzlethatfalls @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl @whoreforouterbanks @newhopenessie @maybebanks @thecutside @poguesrforlife @shawnssongs @popcsheyward @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @jayjaymaebank
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foilfreak · 3 years
Text
BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)
WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.
(AO3 link below)
Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.
Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.
Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.
Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.
“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?
“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.
Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.
Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.
“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”
Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”
“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.
The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.
“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.
“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”
A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.
“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”
A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?
Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”
Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.
Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.
The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.
Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.
He would too, if he could.
Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.
Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.
“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.
“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.
Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.
“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.
“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.
“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.
“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.
A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.
Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.
“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.
“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”
The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.
Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.
Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.
“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.
Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.
“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.
“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”
“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.
“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.
“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.
He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?
“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.
She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?
The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?
“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.
“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.
“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.
Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”
“M-my… siblings.”
“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”
“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”
“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”
Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”
Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.
Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”
Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.
Could… could this mean…?
“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”
Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.
“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”
The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”
“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”
“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.
Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.
What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.
Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.
“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.
A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.
“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”
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loki-lover84 · 4 years
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Season 01 Episode 01: “The Dragon’s Call”
I stormed down the cold stone corridors determined to get away from Uther, Arthur and any of the guards, once again Uther had sentenced another person to death for having magic and he honestly didn’t show any signs of remorse. That thing is cruel, petty and an abomination to the human race; he has the power to dictate who in Camelot may live and who must die but instead of executing the people that commit horrific crimes he goes out of his way to track down any that may possess the gift of magic and put an end to them just because they exist. I have slandered him and called him a coward many times, he kills what he can’t even begin to understand. Magic itself isn’t the issue, the issue only occurs when it is used for evil that is something that once again Uther can’t seem to understand.
In my fury I’d ended up bumping into Guinevere and knocking my sisters dresses onto the hard dusty stone ground.
“Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to!” I apologised picking up each delicate silk gown from the ground.
“Lady Y/n, you needn’t apologise. I was in the way clearly.” Gwen attempted to reason.
“Gwen, I’ve told you countless times to refer to me as Y/n you don’t need to add the Lady part I don’t like it especially not when it’s coming from you, my friend.” Gwen smiled timidly at me as I walked with her to the scullery to assist with cleaning my sisters dresses.
“I’ll never understand why you insist on doing the chores assigned to us you’re supposed to-“
“Get bored after doing nothing in my room or wander the castle aimlessly as I’m forbidden to venture anywhere else, yeah not my fancy.” I interrupted.
“What did King Uther do this time?”  She questioned as we waited for the fire to do its part and heat the water up.
“He’s sentenced another to death for practicing sorcery, whether the man was or wasn’t doesn’t really matter all too much to him just as long as he gets the power to say they live or they die.” I huffed as I began to scrub away the dust and dirt off the first of Morgana’s dresses.
“He believes he’s keeping the kingdom safe.” Guinevere attempted.
“The kingdom isn’t safe from his bad decisions though; let’s face it they’re a greater danger than magic.” I ranted causing Gwen to sigh but she was amused by my statement.
“You keep scrubbing at the rate you are you’ll have me out of a job.” She laughed trying to lighten the mood.
“Never, for you shall receive the credit and they shall be none the wiser.” I smiled before continuing, “What’s next on your to do list today then?”
“I was going to go out to the lower town, I need to get some supplies.”
“Great I’ll join you, anything to get me away from here for a while.” I respond as we air out the dresses.
“Are you sure that’s wise I mean, King Uther’s already angry at you is he not what if today’s the day he catches you?” My friend asked anxiously.
“I don’t fear him besides what’s the worst that’ll happen?”
Guinevere walked alongside me she kept seeming like she wanted to say something, anything to change my mind but knew it’d be like talking to the castle’s stone walls. Eventually we reached my room and I pulled out the chest that was tucked under my bed and out of sight before revealing its contents of commoners clothing which to me was actually rather charming but to most people was all they could get. With some of Guinevere’s assistance I was able change out of my noble clothes and into my common ones.
With Gwen’s usual aid in keeping the guards occupied I was able to sneak around and out of the castle without a single guard harassing me, we’d arranged to meet up in the lower town so we could purchase everything she needed, everything was going to plan until a swarm of the townsfolk sped up the courtyard capturing me in their tight knit hoard. I was so close and now I was back in the courtyard unable to move and forced to behold the treacherous sight I desperately wanted to avoid…
The execution.
The drums began their solemn steady beat as two guards brought forth the man whose life was about to be stolen from him.
“Let this serve as a lesson to all, this man Thomas James Collins is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death.” I woman shoved passed me to get a closer look causing me to fall onto a raven haired man.
I utter a small apology to him and continued to glare up at Uther.
“I pride myself as a fair and just king.” He continued.
“You’re a delusional, arrogant, pigheaded King.” I scoffed under my breath causing the raven haired guy I’d just bumped into to titter slightly.
“But for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass.” Thomas was forced onto his knees his head on now held against the block.
I looked around anywhere I could to avoid the inevitable and saw my twin lower her head in disgust as she beheld the sight. Knowing she was watching this made my stomach fall, I’d always tried to keep her distracted and away from these events but today it seems she chose to watch. Unable to look at my sister I scowled at Uther and watched as without a care, without remorse he lowered his hand signalling for the executioner to behead Thomas. The boy next to me gulped and tensed, I’m not sure what he was expecting to happen seen as though he’d willingly come to see this but his reaction certainly held elements of shock and fear? The rest of the crowd gasped, at least they had some elements of humanity in them.
“When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people’s help, magic was driven from the realm. So I declared a festival to celebrate 20 years since The Great Dragon was captured, and Camelot free from the evil of Sorcery. Let the celebrations begin.” Uther dismissed his face gleaming with pride.
The crowd started to disperse until a woman cried loudly gaining everyone’s focus, even Uther remained upon his balcony.
“There is only one evil in this land and it is not magic! It is you. With your hatred and your ignorance…you took my son.” She cried to Uther as the crowed cautiously backed away from her. “I promise you before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth… a son for a son!” My heart pounded not Arthur yeah he could be a royal prat sometimes but he didn’t deserve to lose his life over Uther’s decisions.
“Seize her!” Uher commanded.
The old woman began chanting something in a high pitched squeal before she eventually disappeared from sight and creating a sudden gust of wind. Cautiously everyone disbanded and I snuck back out among the crowd to help Gwen once again.
I’d remained quiet the entire time I spent with her, I’d witnessed not only the execution but the threat on Arthur’s life. Arthur was like a brother to me we grew up together Arthur, Morgana and I we’d always been there for one another and now because of Uther, Arthur’s life was in danger.
The sun was setting by the time Guinevere and I had finished in town and it was probably best that we got back to the castle to perform our respective duties, Gwen’s to work and mine to float around the castle looking pretty and being the envy of others much like my sister, if only they knew. I scurried back to my chambers, Brenna my maid assisted with my redressing to look my part.  Brenna and Gwen were my closest friends and I knew I could trust them with anything all the servants knew I helped them out but, only they knew and helped me sneak out of the castle.
“Thank you Brenna,  I got caught up Gwen today I apologise for my absence.” Brenna smiled at me and shook her head.
“Hey, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to avoid our pompous King.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her boldness, she’s always true to her opinions and to herself and that’s what I love about her.
“Have you seen Morgana today?” Brenna shook her head as she made my hair look presentable. “She witnessed the execution today is all and I just want to make sure she’s alright.”
“Well from what I’ve heard she avoided everyone today and requested for time to think.” I find it great that if the slightest thing happens around Camelot somehow Brenna is the first to know.
“Thank you so much, I’m going to go and check on her hopefully Uther hasn’t completely corrupted her yet.” With that I left Brenna to her own devices and searched for my sister.
I was at the bottom of a stone staircase when I heard Uther conferring with Morgana.
“What is this? Why are you not joining us at the feast?” Uther’s voice sounded.
“I just don’t think chopping someone’s head off is cause for a celebration. That poor mother.” Morgana replied.
“You’re starting sound like your sister, it was simple justice for what he’d done.”
“To whom? He practiced some magic. He didn’t hurt anyone.”
“You were not around 20 years ago. You have no idea what it was like.”
“How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?”
“Until they realize there is no room for magic in my kingdom. You will be with me when I greet Lady Helen.”
“I told you I want no part of these celebrations-“
“I’m your guardian! I expect you to do as I ask. If you show me no respect, at least respect our finest singer. You should stay away from your sister more she’s a horrible influence on you!” With that Uther began to storm away.
“You know, the more brutal you are, the more enemies you’ll create.” Morgana called to him as I walked up the stairs.
“Morgana, are you okay?” I ask gazing at my sisters infuriated expression.
“I see what you mean about him Y/n I really do.” The pair of us stood in a peaceful silence for a moment before heading back to our chambers for the rest of the evening.
 “Aren’t you glad all you did was brush my hair?” I teased Brenna.
“Yeah, it would’ve been a shame if one of my amazing styles was only worn for fifteen minutes.”
“You can leave no you know.”
“But-”
“But nothing, get home and take care of yourself I see us as equals, you should too.” With that Brenna left and went home knowing she didn’t actually need to come back and ‘work for me’ yet she still does all the same.
 The Next Morning
 Brenna and I met up with Gwen and decided to help her dry the rest of Morgana’s dresses out of the windows as it was a pleasantly warm day.
“Keep hold of that especially tight, it’s one of her favourites.” I said to Brenna as I wafted another out of my window. “Hey look, surprise, surprise Arthur’s being a prat again.”
Guinevere and Brenna stopped what they were doing and stood beside me.
“I wish someone would just put him in his place sometimes, he can be so rude.” I grumbled.
“He’s just showing off in front of the other knights.” Brenna chimed.
“He still shouldn’t treat him like that though.” Gwen said clearly irritated.
“Tell me about it. Oh wait what’s happening here?” Brenna asked getting excited.
“At least someone’s trying to help.” Gwen sighed.
“Arthur’s not going to like that…Geez that was unnecessary!” I gasped as Arthur twisted a raven haired boy’s arm behind his back before motioning to the guards. “Arthur don’t be such a prat!” I growled as the guards took the lad away.
I left angrily leaving Gwen and Brenna to finish the remainder of the dresses in attempt to defend this stranger. Sadly by the time I got there he was already in the cells and he wasn’t allowed visitors either that or I was still forbidden from going down there after last time.
As night came Gwen got Morgana ready and Brenna helped me get ready for our guest performer, I didn’t want to be there but Uther demanded Morgana’s presence and she’d requested my emotional support so how could I refuse my own twins plea for help. Once we were prepared we stood waiting patiently in the throne room Gwen stood behind Morgana and Brenna stood beside me. Eventually Lady Helen arrived and Uther hurried to greet her.
“Lady Helen. Thank you so much for coming to sing at our celebrations.” Uther welcomed as she curtsied before him.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Lady Helen smiled at him.
“How was your journey?”
“Oh the time it took sire.”
“Well, it’s always worth the wait.” Uther charmed as he politely kissed the back of her hands.
“It will be.” Lady Helen says ominously as she fiddles with her necklace.
After the welcoming of Lady Helen we’re quickly dismissed.
“Seriously, I spent longer doing your hair than you did wearing it like that.” Brenna grumbled as we walked back to my chambers.
I couldn’t help but laugh, no matter what she can always get a smile out of me.
“I’ll keep it up like this until I actually go to sleep if you’d prefer then your efforts wouldn’t be wasted.”
“Yes, do that.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Our faces were hard and firm until we locked eyes and ended up laughing at our extremely childish behaviour.
“Now go to the tavern and have fun for me.” I say ushering her away.
“Of course, Lady Y/n whatever you say.” With that she grinned at me and hurried off to the tavern to spend her wages.
 I’d snuck out once again with Guinevere only this time it was in hopes of finding Brenna she hadn’t shown up in my chambers earlier which was fine, she probably had a hangover but a few hours went by and she still wasn’t here so I found Gwen explained the situation and we hurried off to find her.
“She’s a nightmare that Brenna, keeps us all up takes our money then passes out knocking over my ale in the process. As if leaving me broke wasn’t bad enough!” I purple faced man complains loudly as he staggers out of the tavern clinging onto his red faced friend.
“My first time going to the tavern is not going to be just to take home my unconscious friend. Gwen pretty please can you get her, I want our first time to be special.” I ask childishly admiring the tavern.
Gwen shakes her head at my behaviour but goes in by herself nonetheless. Seconds later a swarm of giddy children rush by me, as much rotten food in their hands that they can carry. Curiously I follow them and I’m led right to the stocks, where the raven haired guy from earlier is as food is flung at his head. Remaining out of the line of fire I approach him and his breathtaking blue eyes meet my e/c ones. Okay he’s far more attractive than I initially gave him credit for, he’s looking at me. Y/n say something!
“Hi.” I squeak out. Well Y/n that was pathetic congratulations at being useless when talking to boys.
“Hello.” He smiles up at me despite his predicament.
“I’m Y/n, I help out around the castle sometimes.” I introduce, well it’s not a complete lie and I had to say something right?
“Right. Well, I’m Merlin…” He offers as much of his closest hand as he can and try my best to shake it giving the situation. “Although most people just call me  ‘Idiot.’”
“No, I saw what you did, it wasn’t particularly smart but it was brave of you to stand up against royal prat.” I complimented or at least I hope it came off as a compliment.
“It was stupid.” Merlin laughed to himself causing me to smile slightly.
“Y/n.” Guinevere called from behind me with a half conscious Brenna hanging off her. “I’m Guinevere but most people call me Gwen, I’m Lady Morgana’s maid.” She introduced herself.
Merlin’s eyes brightened when he look at her, of course what guy wouldn’t find her to be stunning?
“Merlin.” He smiled at her as I took Brenna off her so she could also shake his hand.
“I saw what you did, it was so brave.” Gwen stated smiling at him.
“It was stupid.” Merlin sighed this time instead of laughing his self-deprecating laugh.
“Well I’m glad you walked away, you weren’t going to beat him.” Gwen said as she charmingly fiddled with her dress.
How can someone do that without looking even the slightest bit weird? I’ve got to ask her at some point.
“Oh, I…I could beat him.” Merlin says almost cockily if it weren’t for the slightly anxious laugh that accompanied it.
“You think? Because you don’t look like one of these big muscly kind of fellows.” She teases cocking her head to one side.
“Thanks.” He replies.
I might as well just leave the pair of them alone and take Brenna to her home until she’s feeling better.
“See you around Gwen, Merlin.” I call as Brenna and I stagger back to her home.
Wow I’m useless with men, it comes so effortlessly with other women, why do I fail miserably at it?
“Aw Milady blew off a lovely gentleman to take care of me I’m honoured.” Brenna slurred a silly grin on her face.
“Yes well the lovely gentleman likes Gwen so I thought we should leave them be.” I attempted to reason with my drunken friend.
“Pfft that won’t last.” Brenna giggled.
“Why not?” I asked genuinely intrigued.
“She likes Arthur, Merlin’s destined to like you.” She sing songed.
“Ah yes because Uther will allow Gwen and Arthur to marry and Merlin is what, my destiny? You lose grip on reality when you’re drunk.” I laugh as I make her some broth.
“It’s true! I promise!” She pleads.
“Okay I believe you now eat up so you can get into bed and be ready for tomorrow.” I kissed the top of her chestnut brown hair before leaving her home and heading back up to the castle walking passed a laughing Merlin and a giggling Gwen.
Upon arrival I changed into my exquisite f/c dress that complimented everything I had to show before pinning back some strands of my hair to speak with my sister.
“Morgana, do you have a minute?” I asked her as I poked my head around her chambers door.
“Of course sister, I have all the time in the world for you.” She smiled brilliantly at me.
“So, you have more experience with boys than I do and I need some help.”
“Which dashing prince stole my sisters heart, or maybe which knight?” Morgana teased as she pulled me into her room.
“Well I don’t know if he has you know because I haven’t the slightest idea when it comes to these sort of things. How am I supposed to feel?”
“Well when you like a guy usually your stomach feels weird and you become flustered so much so that you even sometimes forget how to speak coherently.” She began to explain.
“Okay and how am I supposed to feel when he talks to pretty girls?”
“Well everyone’s different, some people don’t mind it others get angry and annoyed, some become forlorn and feel like they’ve lost all hope.” Morgana calmly answered.
Great so ticks all across the board for liking a guy I hardly know, way to go me.
“Has someone else caught the attention of your love, sister?” Moargana asked a beautiful features contorting into strained ones expressing concern.
“Oh what no, nothing like that happened to me, I’m writing a story and needed help with the relationship front of things, got to pass time somehow around here.” I stuttered before giving her a false smile and leaving quickly.
In my hurry to escape from everything and just get back to my chambers I ended up colliding straight into someone. I tripped on my dress and hit the cold stone floor as did the other person. They were already up on their feet by the time I’d even turned around to take in my surroundings.
“I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” A familiar voice apologised profusely as they held a hand out to me.
I must’ve done something horrific if this is how life decided to play with me. I kept my head angled down but accepted his assistance in standing up. It’s not always easy when your corset is too tight.
“Thank you, I’m partially to blame though so don’t try to carry all that burden Merlin.” Oh why did I say his name  I’m so stupid!
“Y/n?” Merlin asked as I looked up at him, “I thought you said you helped out here, but you’re-“
“I’m a dear friend of Morgana’s and she gave me one of her dresses for the celebration tomorrow night.” I hurriedly lied, “So, bye Merlin it was nice bumping into you literally.” Before scurrying away.
I’m weird I’m very, very weird . I mean good lie, failed on every other front though. I sighed audibly as I hid my flustered face in my hands and skulked back to my chambers were I spent time clearing my head by leaning out of my window and surveying Camelot in all her beauty. Once again night fall came and Camelot’s truer beauty shone brightly the flaming torches allowed finer parts to look even more exquisite thanks to the assistance of the dramatically casted shadows cascading on to any surface. I took a deep breath and gazed longingly at the moon, now that, natures own creation was the truest beauty of them all.
 Once again the sun rose and Brenna was by my side eagerly waking me up in the most obnoxious of ways.
“Thank you for yesterday off, I really needed the recovery day.” She grinned.
“Yes, I know, you nearly scared Guinevere and myself to death when you didn’t show up and, the state you were in once we found you but hey, at least you gambled your way to fortune the other night.”
“Ah yes I’m a professional at predicting the future drunk and sober.” Her smile weakening slightly as did mine.
“It would be great you know if you really could see into the future like one of those, oh what are they called…”
“Seers, magic folk that can see into the future.” Brenna finished.
“Yeah a Seer it would make my state of mind better if you were one but then again Uther would have you killed so it’s probably for the best that you’re not one eh?” I laughed and Brenna shifted slightly.
After that we spent a few hours just talking about random things but we did make an arrangement for my first tavern visit which I was now eagerly awaiting with baited breath.
“Let’s do visit Lady Morgana and Guinevere I’m sure they’ll need our assistance with Morgana’s dress for tonight.” Brenna said randomly as she pushed me out of my room.
By the time we reached Morgana’s room Chambers we saw a very smiley yet flustered Merlin lean and came face to face with a beaming Gwen. Not what I wanted to see ever but yet there it was.
“So, it’s whether I wear this little tease, or give them a night they’ll really remember.” Morgan said deviously showing her dress options to us.
“Anyone in particular you’re after, maybe a certain blonde haired prince?” Brenna teases. “I’m pretty sure everyone except from him is aware of your intentions towards him.”
“I believe you’re right there Brenna at this rate though I wouldn’t be too surprised though, unless it’s fighting he’s not the sharpest tool around.” Morgan sighed sadly.
“I’m certain he’ll notice you tonight though, don’t worry.” Brenna winked as we decided upon her wine red dress that whilst left little to the imagination also provided a great sense of elegance.
“Y/n what about the boy you like do you have an idea of which dress you’ll wear to recapture his attention?” Morgana asked.
“Y/n you like someone?” Guinevere asked this being obvious new  news to her.
“No these two are just convinced that I do for some reason.” I lied, wanting Gwen to be happy.
“Fine, but you still need to look stunning!” Morgana insisted whilst the other two agreed so I was now shoved all the way back to my chambers after being shoved all the way to my twins.
In the end we decided upon an elegant dress with a dark blue and silver burst and a greyish blue skirt with some light floral embroidery. I didn’t want to go to the celebration in the slightest but, at least I’ll look good while I’m there.
 The celebration arrived sooner than I anticipated and Brenna and I were running late.
“I want you to blow everyone away tonight.” Brenna insisted as we hurried down the corridor my heels clacking against the ground as I held my dress up to run.
“I don’t know why, nobody will be looking at me, it’s either going to be the Lady Morgana or Lady Helen.” I argued.
“Yeah but now, thanks to me you’re another option for them.” Brenna replied.
“I don’t want to be!”
“Merlin will be there.”
“What?” I was amazed she’d even remembered his name, she was barely conscious and yet she somehow knows that, ugh never mind! “He likes Gwen, Gwen likes him we can just let them be happy.” I finally said as we reached the grand hall.
My twin had just entered and had immediately captivated Arthur as well as every other mans attention, I could’ve sworn Arthur murmured “God have mercy.” Whilst she strutted past him but I could be wrong. As I watched her walk with confidence I saw Merlin gazing at her before getting a disapproving look from Gaius.
“In you go.” Brenna ushered but I didn’t move.
“I can’t.”
“You promised Morgana you’d be here with her.”
“Yeah but that was before things go complicated besides she’s got Arthur and everyone else’s attention now.”
“Okay so while they’re all looking at her you and I can sneak in.” Brenna did have a point we could just sneak in now and hopefully remain unnoticed.
“Fine .” I entered the grand hall and walked to the opposite side of the room as Morgana, Arthur and Merlin whilst keeping my head turned away from most people.
Brenna and I chatted amongst ourselves for a while until.
“Don’t look now but a certain Mr Merlin is looking at you with his mouth hanging open.” Brenna whispered.
“It’s not nice to tease Brenna you know that there’s so lines we don’t-“  Before I could finish my sentence she turned me around to face Merlin and she had indeed been telling the truth.
Merlin was looking right at me his mouth slightly agape as Gaius lectured him before walking off. I turned back around to apologise to Brenna when she was suddenly next to Merlin saying something to him with a devious smile on her face as they looked towards my general area. Great I’m being looked at and I’m alone and back to looking like a weirdo. Well until my twin and Arthur came over to me.
“Y/n you scrub up well.” Arthur said.
“Wow geez thanks, as do you my royal prat.” I reply jokingly with a mock curtsey.
“Hey, I was trying to be nice.” He defended.
“Ah leave him be Y/n I’m afraid that’s as silver tongued as our dear friend gets.” Morgan playfully insulted threading her arm through mine.
“That’s not fair there’s two of you and only one of me.” Arthur huffed.
“Yeah that is how twins work you know, two of them all the time.”  I reply before sneaking a glance Merlin’s way whom now had Gwen by his side but at least Brenna was there also so they couldn’t have alone time.
Why do I care I’ve hardly spoken to him, she knows him so much better than I do, I don’t get a say in any of this.
“…Don’t  you agree Y/n?” Arthur asked.
“Hm what?”
“Where is your mind tonight?” Arthur asked.
“Oh is it him, is he here?” Morgana asked peering around the room.
“He, who?” Arthur demanded.
“No one, Morgana and Brenna are convinced I like someone so they keep acting weird and made me dress up like this tonight.”
“Okay so who do you reckon our lovely Y/n’s type is? Mybe it’s him?” Arthur said pointing to someone.
“No, I think more him.” Morgana said pointing at one of the knight’s, “ Or maybe-“ Morgana was cut off by the sound of the horns indicating for everyone to stand by their seats for the King’s entrance before they could actually sit.
“We have enjoyed 20 years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures. But few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.” Uther introduced causing an applaud from everyone present, even me out of politeness as he joined Arthur, Morgana and I at the head table.
Lady Helen stood upon a makeshift stage at the back of the hall to perform her song. Her voice was indeed beautiful but the words she sang were not English, there was an enchanting aura to everything about her in this moment, we were held captive to her talent. Slowly and gracefully she approached our table people succumbing to a sleep as she past them. My eyelids felt undeniably heavy and it became a challenge so stay awake to the side I could make out Merlin covering his ears as the room became cooler and darker with each note, Uther was already asleep quickly followed by Arthur and my sister. I fought to remain awake but it felt futile all my energy was being drained, the last thing I saw was cobwebs slowly appearing before I was out.
Minutes later I woke to a dark cobweb infested cold grand hall with the old woman from the execution trapped beneath our once hanging candelabras whom quicker that a flash threw her dagger right at Arthur, had it not been for Merlin, Arthur would be dead.
“You saved my boys life, a debt must be repaid.” Uther spoke to Merlin.
“Oh, well…” Merlin began.
“Don’t be so modest. You shall be rewarded.”
“No, honestly, you don’t have to, your highness.”
“No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.”
“Well…” Merlin sighed shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“You shall be awarded with a position in the royal household.” Uther says clapping his hand against Arthur’s back who in turned looked disgusted by Uther’s suggestion. “You shall be Prince Arthur’s Manservant.”
Poor Merlin, it was as if he’d been punished instead of rewarded for saving Arthur’s life. Everyone else applauded as Uther began to walk away.
“Father!” Arthur complained as neither he nor Merlin seemed particularly happy with the outcome.
People began to leave the grand hall Merlin included as Arthur pouted.
“Arthur, give him a chance. He saved your life treat him with some element of respect!” I said before also leaving the hall.
I was barely out of the doors when I was pulled to one side out of sight from the guards and passersby, a hand was over my mouth to prevent me from squealing in shock. I was up against a wall when Merlin’s bewitching blue eyes met my wide e/c ones once again.
“You’re just a close friend of the Lady Morgana are you, I didn’t think even close friends would be allowed to sit at the King’s table nor influence the prince like you do.” Merlin smirked as he slowly drew his hand from my mouth.
I didn’t know how to respond, I didn’t know if I was even capable of responding, my heart pounded against my chest my breaths uneven, I felt dizzy.
“I-I’m the Lady Y/n, the Lady Morgana’s twin sister.” I stuttered my eyes never leaving his.
“Well then, good night my Lady.” He smirked once again kissing the back of my hand before walking away leaving me dumbfounded using the wall against my back to keep me upright.
“Y/n you look…I honestly don’t know how to politely describe you right now, what did I miss?” Brenna asked a mischievous knowing grin on her face.
“Merlin.” I sighed almost swooning still looking down the hall Merlin just left down.
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another-sonic-blog · 5 years
Text
Stages: Amy’s Day
Stages: Intimate Friends Pt. 4: Amy’s Day (Chapter 17)
Synopsis so far: After Maria left Shadow, Amy finally came to the realization that she has stronger feelings than she expected for the black and red one. However, Shadow doesn’t seem to have the same feelings for her. After sharing an intimate moment together, Shadow is afraid that Amy might leave him as well. He avoids her but after almost losing Mia (a young hedgehog girl that reminds Shadow of the old Amy) in a mission, he has come to the realization that he can’t imagine his life without his best friend, Amy.
What would happen to the couple? Let’s find out. 
2k 400
Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190952362000/stages-shadows-day
.
Amy was at her new job. She was accepted as a sewer assistant, the pay was better than on her previous job. However, it was way more exhausting.
Her hands had stitches in them and even when she was wearing her globes she could she red coming out from her open wounds.
Amy kept using her sewing machine, she was fixing an old G.U.N. jacket. A black wolf had come by and dropped it. She couldn't avoid it, her mind went directly towards Shadow.
It has been three weeks since they have talked. No text messages, no meetings, nothing.
Amy had tried. She had gone to G.U.N. headquarters but Shadow denied to see her, saying that 'he was too busy at the moment.' She texted him, but no answer.
She even saw him on the street from her way back home and waved at him.
But he only pretended not to see her and walked the other way.
She stopped trying after that and focused on her new job.
Amy paid attention to the old black jacket. It wasn't like the other G.U.N jackets she had seen before. This one looked old, the leather was worn and it was bigger in the shoulder area. This jacket wasn't made for Mobians but humans. Nowadays, it was strange to see humans around, but there were some. Most of them were for here for political reasons.
Main example, G.U.N's top Commander.
Amy's mind began to drift towards Shadow again. What was he doing? Was he alright? Was he eating well?
Amy sighed, maybe it was better this way.
She wanted to stop loving him, and maybe the best way to do that is to have a break.
A lot was going around outside. Music, people laughing and parade carts going by the Main Street of Central City.
Of course, there were a lot of people. Princess Sally of Acorn Kingdom was here for the Star Festival.
Amy really admired her. The Princess led a revolution when she was only 15 and has led her kingdom to greatness since then. Even Sonic had admitted to having a crush on the young princess a long time ago, although he had only met her once.
Amy really wished she could see her. However, her job was tying her down. Not like she minds too much.
Ms. Lucy, her boss was kind. She had arthritis and due to it, she stopped sewing. She could only design clothes and Amy will make them. Ms. Lucy was an old grey rabbit, blue eyes and small. Really adorable. She owned the sewing store that focused on clothing reparations but the shop was also known for her clothing designs.  
Amy looked outside the store's window, hoping that someone way or another she could be able to see beyond the people who were blocking her sight.
She paid attention to the jacket again as she finished giving the final touches.
A beautiful jacket indeed.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Amy stood up quickly from her seat. She recognized that sound anywhere. Gunshots.
People began to panic. It was only three shots and that was all it took. Ms. Lucy wasn't in the shop for the day and Amy had the responsibility to look after it.
Amy put all of her things away. Dresses, sewing machines, treats, and everything at a high cost.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
For a moment, Amy had forgotten where she was. She opened her eyes and it was all dust and falling boulders. Amy could the outside of the shop now. Half of the store was completely destroyed. The bomb was a strong one and Amy flew to the wall, her back impacting on it. The moment she fell down, she had passed out.
She was lucky, she didn't break anything but she definitely had wounds and scratches. Amy had dust all over her and her clothes were teared up but she didn't care at the moment. She slowly stood up, her right ankle failing her.
She had probably sprained it.
Amy cough up multiple times before finally being able to get out to Main Street.
She got to work. Amy tried to help as much as she could. People were still panicking. They were running and kids were crying. She helped them find their mothers. Amy used her hammer to destroyed some boulders to free people that were trapped in the buildings that were bombed.
She coughs up again, this time stronger and louder. Her lungs could only take so much.
After making sure that there weren't more people in trouble, she went back to the sewing shop.
She entered the half-destroyed building and looked for the client's clothes that they left for repair. Amy looked behind the counter, the clothes were dirty and some of them were torn apart.
Ah, more work.
Amy grabbed as many garments as she could. She was about to walk out when suddenly, boulders fell from the top of the building. Although she wasn't as hurt as she expected to be. She was trapped. Rocks surrender her and normally she would be able to use her strength to move them. However, she was extremely weak now. She was wounded and it was a tight space and Amy began to panic.
She was getting out of breath, she felt her muscles tense and she couldn't see anything.
Everything was dark.
And she began to scream.
"Is this how I am going to die?"
She thought, and she begged for help until her last breath.
.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Amy slowly opened her eyes. She recognized the smell.
Hospital smell.
It was dark outside and Amy looked to her right side. An oxygen tank next to her and a small standing screen showing her heartbeats.
Oh, Chaos, how much is this going to cost?
"Finally awake sleepy head?"
Amy turned her left and there was her hero.
Sonic the Hedgehog.
"You saved me?" She asked, giving him a weak smile.
"Of course, who else?" Sonic smiled, he was seating on a chair next to Amy's bed. Amy immediately knew that there was something that Sonic was hiding from her. He was holding his hands, fingers intertwined and he tapped his right foot impatiently.
"Just tell me what it is already," said Amy.  
Sonic hesitated, he knew Amy was strong. However, he also knew that what he was about to tell Amy was something that might break her.
But it will be worse if she finds out in another way.
"To start ... no one was in the building, so there were no casualties." Sonic added, "I am so sorry Amy ..."
Sonic made a pause, still doubting himself. Amy at watching that there was no reaction coming from him, spoke up.
"What happened? You are scaring me just tell me."
"The Resistance ...There was a fire ... and it burned down."
.
Sonic thought Amy had taken the news very well. However, he should have known better than to keep an eye on her the moment she asked him to bring her a glass of water.
When he came back with it, she was gone.
And now, he was running to the Resistance's HQ. He got there fast and was surprised to see how quickly Amy got there as well.
There was nothing left of the Resistance. Only ashes, black dark ashes.
And the pink one in the middle of them.
Sonic was never a big fan of the Resistance. However, he appreciated and admired every member who was or is a part of it. Only a few things reminded. a few furniture and walls that luckily reminded.
He kept the details for himself. He didn't want to tell Amy that this wasn't an accident. Amy was always precautions and something like 'leaving the stove on' type of accident didn't exist for her.
Someone did this. Someone who was able to get inside the Resistance without the alarms going on. A smart person who fooled the few agents that were inside and one way or another made them get out of the building.
Did Amy had enemies? And if she did ... why attack now?
Sonic walked up to her. No word could describe his feelings at the moment. His heartaches and it was difficult for him to breathe. Sonic bent down as he touched Amy's shoulder but she immediately shrugs him off.
Sonic tried again.
"It's not safe here ... we should -"
Amy turned her head and looked at him. She was still covered in dust from the bombing, her hair a mess, her eyes red from crying.
Strong winds were coming from all sides making the ashes revolve around them.
"Stop pretending that you care ... just leave."
Hurt, pain, disappointment, anger, sorrow, regret. So many feelings but one overtook Sonic.
Helplessness.
"Amy ... I do care."
"YOU FUCKING LEFT ME! YOU AND TAILS, KNUCKLES AND CREAM! EVERYONE WANTED TO ME TO LEAVE THIS PLACE, TO GIVE UP ON IT! YOU MUST BE HAPPY THAT IT'S FINALLY GONE!" Amy turned her whole body as she pointed at Sonic with her finger. Accusing him as if all of this was his fault. Tears rolled down her eyes, remembering how every one of her friends left.
Sonic quickly grabbed her hand. Letting his feelings show, just for a moment.
"YES! I FUCKING AM, AMY! I HATE THIS PLACE SO MUCH BECAUSE IT REMINDED ME OF THE PEOPLE I COULDN'T SAVE! OF THE PEOPLE WHO DEPENDED ON ME AND I FAILED! IT'S FUCKING TORTURE FOR ME!"
They stood quiet for a few seconds, green eyes intensely looking at each other. Amy was so entranced in her world that she had forgotten how much Sonic and her friends had gone through.
Sonic was tortured for six months but she was sure that that didn't compare to the deaths he caused due to his absence.
Of course, Amy will never think like that ... but Sonic will think the worse of himself.
The Resistance was a place of many good memories and ... terrible ones. Members of the Resistance died there, and must of them had a big appreciation for Sonic. He was there for each of them but it wasn't enough.
And for each one of them ... Sonic blamed himself and more.
"Don't you think ... don't you think it tortures me too? That's why I want the Resistance so much." Amy whispered as her voice broke. " ... Because that way their memory will keep on. It's the only way to prove ... that they didn't die in vain."
Sonic expression softens, he knew that perfectly well and her feelings were valid. He grabbed her hand softly this time, caressing it.
"They died so people could have a better future ... If you are happy, they didn't die in vain."
Sonic saw Amy's face turn into grief. She cried disconsolately and Sonic hugged her, giving her comfort.
"It's time to move on ..." He whispered.
A few minutes passed, and Sonic watched Amy let out her feelings.
He knew that it wasn't the right moment. But his heart was telling him otherwise. He didn't need a response, he just needed to put it out, so his heart and soul can be at ease.
"I love you."
Sonic said and it came out almost like a whisper.
However, Amy heart every single letter of it.
"You don't have to say anything. I can wait. But I just wanted to let you know." said Sonic.
Sonic still held her tight, afraid that if he lets go, she would lose her.
But he knew that he had lost her a long time ago.
"I know that you like Shadow ... love him even." Sonic felt Amy tense up by that but he moved her away just a little to be able to make eye contact.
"Sonic, I-" Amy began but he interrupted her.
"You don't have to say anything. The way you look at him ... It was the same way you used to look at me." Sonic added with a sour smile. "It hurts actually, hehe."
"I am sorry ... believe me, I don't want to love him." Amy held his face with her hands as if pleading for forgiveness. "I want my heart to stop but I can't. I would do anything ... anything to love you again."
"Then ... use me."
Amy gulped, as she slowly puts her hands away from his face but Sonic was quick to grab her left hand and place it back on his cheek, missing her touch.
"I don't care if you use me to forget Shadow," said Sonic. "I messed up a lot with you ... and if you give me the honor to be with you ... I will try my best every day to make you fall in love with me again."
There were many things Amy was unsure of. But there was one thing she knew for sure.
Sonic was here now ... and Shadow wasn't.
"Even if it hurts you?" Amy asked.
"Yes," Sonic responded.
"Even if I decide to keep on loving him?"
"Yes."
"Even if I can't love you anymore?"
"Even if you can't love me anymore. Even if you decide to be with someone else." Sonic softly kissed her hand and looked at her in the eyes. "Because I know that I am not worthy of you ... I'll be happy as long as you are happy."
The moonlight shone in Amy's green emerald eyes and Sonic got lost in them again. Her crying made her nose and cheeks have a red tint, making her almost look ethereal.
She was a fallen angel in Sonic's eyes. With all of her imperfections, with all of her quirks ... Sonic loved each one of them.
"If you do that much then ..." Amy took a deep breath and sighed. "I promise that I will try my best to love again."
Sonic smiled, his heart was warm. That was more than what he could ask for.
And in the ashes of destruction, a new love was blooming.
Sonic gave her a small kiss on her forehead, letting his feelings be known.
"And I promise to keep on loving you no matter what."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: It's 3:21 AM. Sonic and Amy are together now, how will Shadow react to the news? Who is this villain? We will find out next year. Goodbye.
Next: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/611417758901714944/stages-what-is-it
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Text
Crossdressing
Mineta is pretty embarrassed about a lot of things, he may not show it but he is, but his love for cross-dressing and dolling himself up is probably the most embarrassing thing. At first he chalks his interest for cross-dressing up to the fact his mom owns a salon that he helps in and seeing all of these pretty girls might be rubbing off on him. But once he’s living in the dorms he doesn’t know who to blame, maybe it's Midnight and her always on-point style? Or is it the seven girls he now lives with who are all walking Aphrodite's of their own right? Is it his desire to feel close to home and to his mom, the memories of watching her delicately tracing her eyelid in the mirror and the deep black trail left behind? Perhaps. What matters the most though is that nobody finds out, he carefully removes all traces of makeup, hides his tight fitting black skirt, his purple blouse ,and small bra he stuffs carefully, the heels and stockings, dresses, blush, extensions, perfume, all of it is tucked away from any eyes that may pry. Of course one day that all comes to an abrupt halt, his world is thrown into a moment of chaos when Ashido comes right into his room. It was a dare from Kaminari, Mineta finds out later, but what matters the most was that he was dolled up, extensions in, make up on, his lips lined and full, his nails painted with a feather light touch, and sure maybe he was wearing a plain white t-shirt, but he was wearing a plaid skater skirt and that made the rest stand out more.
The two stare at each other for a while before she starts to laugh and the mortification of it all sets in immediately, hes slack jawed, his eyes are wide, and he can feel his carefully applied mascara starting to run and leave black trails on his cheeks. She sees that he's crying and stops laughing in an instant. She starts to try to comfort him saying she wasn't trying to upset him, she just thought the sight was funny but that hurts more. His hobby is just a fat joke to everybody around him. 
She backtracks by saying that it's funny because she figured Mineta looked down on cross dressers and that she didn’t expect him to approve, let alone partake, in such a thing. That hurts too because now he realizes that everybody sees him as a judgy asshole when he's quite the opposite. So now shes panicked because nothing she's saying is comforting him and he's hurting and fearful she might tell somebody. She apologizes, saying she’ll never speak of this incident to anybody, and quietly leaves. Mineta takes off the clothes, the make up, cleans away the nail polish, and hides any evidence of their existence before curling up in bed and promptly crying his eyes out. He doesn’t want anybody to know, his own mother doesn’t even know, the few friends from middle school didn’t know, and of course he didn’t tell his friends at UA. But now Ashido knows, thought it was funny, and left. She’s going to tell somebody, who knows who’s going to find out and how fast it will spread. Rumors moved like wildfire in this class and living together certainly didn’t slow that spread of information. So Mineta laid in bed, silently crying and unmoving, trying to find a way out of the situation he didn’t put himself in but rather was forced into.
A week passes without any incident, Ashido must have kept her promise after all. Still Mineta decided that he wasn’t going to dress himself up this weekend just to be on the safe side, he was still on edge even if Ashido has kept her vow of silence. Mineta heard a knock at his door and shakily answered, opening the door and looking up at Momo of all people. She puts a finger over her mouth and gestures for Mineta to follow, he does so, despite his fear and anxiety, and they reach her room. He starts to get excited, he's being led to a girls room by the girl herself! She opens the door and all of the girls are there sitting on the bed and chatting quietly. They all went quiet when the door was opened, and they two entered, Momo shuts the door behind them and Mineta is standing silently in front of all the girls and he has no idea what he's supposed to say at this point. While Mineta is still trying to get his bearings Momo joins the other girls and sits on her bed.
“S-So ladies...did you call me here to profess your love? Can’t blame y’all for being shy but it took forever and-” Mineta starts but is cut off by Jiro groaning and rolling her eyes dramatically. The girls all seemed annoyed at that and, to be honest, Mineta was annoyed with himself. 
“I caved and told.” Ashido states bluntly and Mineta feels his heart drop but she’s quick to keep talking in an attempt to comfort the very obviously mortified boy. “I told the girls because the boys wouldn’t understand but we can! Makeup is fun...sometimes. It has its problems but it's more fun as a group. I mean...what's the fun of dressing up with nobody to compliment your eye shadow blending?” Ashido asks gently, trying to get him to understand and, despite how scared Mineta still felt, he did understand. He took hesitant steps towards the bed and, with a red face, joined in on the fun. 
Over time it went from just a bit of eyeliner and anxiety to having no fear and full on dresses, skirts, and heels. It became a secret between himself and the girls. He even toned down the comments because over time he realized how damaging they really were for their self esteem. Nobody could pin down why Mineta had a sudden change of heart but it didn’t matter because the sense of unity in the class was more important than answers. After all of this Mineta finally had the courage to take a picture of himself dressed up and, after being scared of hating what he sees, he finally sees that he’s as beautiful as he always wanted to be.
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sooibian · 5 years
Text
Elude (1)
Moodboard | Prologue
Main Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader (ft. Baekhyun)
Genre: Dystopian AU
Warnings: Mentions of death, murder, illness and suicide
Tags: @squishysoo-12
Word count ~ 1400
A/N: Kinda unedited, sorry! Please let me know your thoughts.
***
You gradually opened your eyes to a rectangular room. It was just adequate enough to accommodate a small table besides the single bed you lay on. On the table stood a battery powered fan and a carefully placed wooden cup of ginseng tea. There were three open shelves affixed to the opposite wall for all your belongings. On the adjacent wall, a pathetic excuse for a window fitted with thick iron bars. Your servant's quarter was devoid of any plug points, ceiling fan, iron nails, sharp edges - for obvious reasons. You had only gone from one prison to another. At least you had the room all to yourself.
You took another glance at the wooden cup. There was a note underneath it.
That was quite an entrance -B
You felt a faint throbbing in the back of your head. Flashes of events from earlier came rushing to you.
Realization hit you like a truck. You froze.
You were in treacherous waters. This house belonged to the man you hated and feared the most. The sheer proximity to him filled you with a sense of dread. No one must find out. But then again no one would find out. Your father succeeded in keeping your identity a secret. As far as the world was concerned, his daughter died in the same car crash that took his wife. You were merely the daughter of two ordinary fisherpeople. The kind the world didn't care about. And to your credit, you had mastered the art of obscurity.
You read the note again.
B?
Byun Baekhyun!
Byun!
Commander Byun was the President's right hand man - second in charge. He had played a major role in thwarting the Rebellion by having several spies on his payroll, eventually causing the Rebels to lose faith in each other. He was the man who had saved the President's life during the Rebels assassination attempt. Not by the showcase of his bravado, but by deceit.
Commander Byun had lost his wife in an illness at the time of the Rebellion. The event didn't weaken him in the slightest. It turned him into a bigger monster instead. Baekhyun must be his son. You wondered how he dealt with it all. The loss, the fear, the chaos.
You were swimming among sharks. And nobody was to be trusted. Your father had taught you to be smart. You would quietly accept any punishment they gave you for fainting, lie low and go on about your job as any other servant would.
You glanced at the teacup again. Unable to remember the last time you had ginseng tea. Although it had gone cold, you relished every sip of it. As if it was your last.
***
The news of your fainting episode had spread like wildfire. It had earned you a nickname in the kitchen - Princess. Your poor partner was stuck with 'Sloth' since the past two years.
"Set these plates on the dining table, will you Princess? Be careful about it", the head-chef ordered.
The volley of taunts and jibes had just begun.
The mahogany dining table, although elegant, seemed a little ostentatious. But then again, what about this place wasn't a gross display of wealth.
You set the three plates in order as instructed. One for the President at the head of the table. One for his wife and the other for their son.
Like any other family, there were stories about this one, too. Apparently, in her younger days, the First Lady was betrothed to a high ranking officer in the Army. The officer died under mysterious circumstances within a week of his engagement. The President had married her almost immediately after, in a hush hush affair. Speculations galore over her decision to marry a man almost twice her age. Some called her a gold digger. Still do. While many called it a moment of insanity.
Their son mostly flew under the radar. His name is Doh Kyungsoo. He is in his mid-twenties. And he’s being trained to be his father’s successor. He has a regimented daily routine. There are hardly any photographs of him in the public domain. Except the ones from the National Day parades. In the pictures, he's always sat next to his father. Dressed in the same black generals uniform, minus the maroon stars, his expressions unreadable. That was all there was to know about him.
You heard footsteps approach from behind, heading towards the kitchen, as you sat straightening the table covers and mats. You didn't bother to turn around. Dinnertime wasn't for another hour at least. It must be your partner making useless trips from the kitchen. Probably trying to get rid of her nickname by overcompensating. The thought filled you with rage. Half of the population was left to starve in detention centres and here you were, along with a small army of people, fussing over a dinner for three.
"Good evening, Imo! Mmm....smells delicious as always"
You heard a gentle but masculine voice coming from the kitchen. The kitchen staff was all women and none of the soldiers or guards were allowed to visit.
"Kyungsooya!", you overheard the head chef squeak, "where were you all this week? Promise you won't disappear on me like that again! I've been so worried! Imo has been cooking all of your favourite dishes! Oh my God, son....you look so frail! You haven't been eating well, have you? You have to fill up on all that I've cooked today, okay?"
Kyungsoo merely chuckled affectionately over the head chefs fretting.
Her sugary sweet tone towards a dictator's son made you want to gag.
You realized that you'd already started off on the wrong foot. And now you'd broken another unspoken rule by not greeting him when he walked past you. You rushed inside the kitchen just so that you could make amends.....it was your turn to overcompensate.
You hurried to the kitchen, stole a quick glance at Kyungsoo, not meeting his eyes and bowed down almost in reverence. To your utter surprise, he bowed back!
He seemed nothing like the man you've been seeing in the newspapers or the State controlled news channels all these years. His otherwise shrewd and stoic expressions looked much softer sans the uniform and the glaring spotlight of manufactured story-tellers. The thick round glasses gracing his face made him seem like the friendliest person to ever exist.
If this was an act, he was pulling it off with immense conviction.
You pretended to do something around the kitchen, picked up a few rag cloths and walked out. And all the while you felt Kyungsoo's eyes lingering on you.
***
The head-chef had a small garden for everyday herbs she used in the kitchen. Every morning you were supposed to water the plants and make sure they didn't die before you did.
"Morning, Princess!"
You recognized the owner of this voice and groaned internally.
You stood up only to bow down to him, "Good morning, Soldier Byun"
"It's Baekhyun for you", he said with a cheeky grin.
A small smile was all you could manage in response.
"You should come see my garden sometime", he said excitedly.
"You keep a garden?", a quizzical smile spread across your face. You just wanted to get this conversation over with. But didn't want to seem disinterested.
"Yes, but it might be a bit too.....bit too refined for your taste. Anyway, I have a question for you. Do you know what's the most important thing big mansions like these have?"
"A good staff to run the place smoothly", you said almost immediately regretting it.
He chuckled, "Correct, but the answer I was looking for is trapdoors"
Your face fell. Whatever his plan, you didn't want to partake in it.
"And there's one right underneath your bed", he thrust a small locked black box in your dirty hands.
He was now dangerously close to you, his voice down to a whisper "A little something from my garden, and I want you to hide this there"
"What...what happened to the girl who worked here before.... before me", you blurted out.
"I killed her", his nonchalant reply disturbed you. Also made you wonder whether this was some kind of a distasteful joke.
"But you have nothing to worry about, Princess. As long as you do exactly as I say"
A look of pure dread clouded your face.
He let out a small laugh and smirked, "Don't worry about it too much. Just follow my lead"
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lotustories · 5 years
Text
Despicable
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Pairing: Reader x Kim Taehyung x Kim Seokjin
Type: angst, smut
Warnings: mentions of crime, sexual activity, alcohol use, and vulgar language
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Chapter 3
In the month you had been living with taehyung, he was very open to involving you in all projects and his life. The first night he involved you was when he told you about the others, showing you photos and giving information like he had known you forever. “Why are you telling me everything?” You asked and he had stared at you quietly for a moment before leaning foraward in his chair. “There’s something about you,” he studied your face. “I trust you.” He pulled away before leaving you alone in the room. He also spoils you, which you constantly refuse but he doesn’t like. He insists on it. This weekend was seokjins wedding, a wedding taehyung had to attend. A wedding he said you had to go to as well, which is why he wanted you to go shopping. “Yn, please take Lalo and go shopping.” He pleaded, you shook your head stubbornly. “I don’t want your money, nor do I want to attend my exes wedding.” You scoffed, walking away from him and he grew frustrated. Taehyung grabbed you turning you around to face him. The first time he actually touched you this aggressively, but it was gentle. His touch making your breath hitch as he held you closely. “Think of it this way,” he tsked, “Seokjin has no idea what happened to you since Nyla threw you out. He smirked. “Imagine how petty it would be to have you show up as my date.” Your eyebrows raised at him comment. “Date?” Your attempt at hiding your smile failing as he pulled away. “Lalo, make sure she gets the best of the best.” He hands Lalo his black card and motioned you away. “Come, yn.” Lalo’s small smile as he walked past you.
Everywhere you went, people eyed you, there was rumors of taehyung having a new fling, but he never let photos of you get out. He never let you be exposed. The only people who knew of you were the youngest of the crew. Jimin, who finally warmed up to you. Jungkook, who liked you from the start. “I’m just saying, she seems soft.” Jimin spoke of you as if you weren’t standing right there. “I’m not.” You spoke, hearing you speak caused the other girls to gasp. It was a rule. “Did I say you could speak?” He raised his eyebrow, amused with you. “I don’t belong to you.” You answered back and he stood up. Taehyung watching carefully as the other girls looked afraid for you. “Disobedient little thing.” He gawked at you, his face inches from yours. “you’re not scared of me?” He pulled away, his eyes roaming your body as he licked his lips. “Taehyung?” He called out, his eyes not leaving yours. “No.” Taehyung answered sternly and Jimin frowned. “Fine.” Jimin's face turning into a smile as he walked back to his seat. Since then he had treated you like the other men. Spoke to you, respected you. He was always teaching you how to defend yourself. The first lesson you had taehyung watched. “You have to be prepared.” Jimin stood in front of you, his bare chest glistening in sweat as he pounced around on his toes. His shorts swaying side to side like the boxers you see in the movies. “I know how to fight.” You watched his moves, catching his point of attack before he could harm you. so When he charged, you moved to the left. His eyes widening slightly as he shook his head out of amusement. “How good is your hook?” He waved his hands at you to come towards him. “Hit me.” He demanded your eyes going to taehyung only for him nodded in return. “No mercy,” Jimin added and so You swung, your arm and it connected with his face. The loud “whew” falling from his lips. He seemed to like the pain, he brought his head back up, a smirk plastered on his face. “Damn.” He looked to taehyung and then back to you. “You’ve got a lot of fire in you, why do you hold back?” He wiped his mouth and stepped toward you. “Hm?” He pressed, waiting for your answer. “If she ever messed with you,” Jimin whispered. “Fight back.” He glared, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do not let them think you are weak.” He snarled. His advice coming from heart, a personal experience. “Understand?” He waited for your answer and you nodded. “I do.” The short amount of time the men you grew to know making you feel stronger than ever.
“Yn?” The owner of the dress shop questioned as she saw you enter. You gave a nod and she smiled brightly at you. “Sir Taehyung asked us to make a dress for you, it’s ready, but it’s needs to be fixed to your body.” She pointed to the stand in front of the mirror wanting you to stand on it. “Oh?” You turned to Lalo. “I thought I was just to find a dress.” She laughed softly. “He had this dress planned. A design of his own.” You looked down at her as she pulled out the measuring tape. “His design?” You questioned and she nodded, her eyes focused on your legs. “He often only designs his own clothes, this is a first for a woman.” She stood up to meet your eyes. “You must be really special.” The dress she brought out was beautiful. It showed nearly every inch of your body, but covered enough to be appropriate. “Wow.” Lalo spoke out loud. He shook his head in realization as he looked away. “The heels,” she handed you these pumps with heels that looked like stems of roses. The black heels making you feel powerful. “An outfit for a goddess.” She hands you the note that says exactly that. “From Sir Taehyung.” You couldn’t help but smile at his note. “Thank you for your help.” You handed her the clothes so she could package it. Thanking her as you signed the bill. Lalo was promoted to taehyung’s right hand man when you praised him for being kind to you on your first night of meeting. The other, you had no idea what happened to him. You assumed fired or demoted. “You seem happier,” Lalo walked next to you like a shield. His eyes focusing on the streets. “Since we first met.” He added. “I think I am?” And it was the truth. You felt happier. You felt free. When being with Seokjin your life resulting in staying home and waiting for him to return. Short conversations and staying in the dark of his life. The return home felt short, and when you arrived home you noticed an extra car in the driveway. One you were unfamiliar with so lalo snuck you in the back. “Keep quiet.” When you got inside and up the staircase you recognized the voice coming from taehyung’s office. “All I’m asking is to find her, it’s been a over month.” Your heart immediately stopping. “Jin, have you checked jk and Jimin’s cities?” Taehyung sighed as he tried pushing Seokjin out the front door. Lalo letting you watch but holding you at a distance so you were not seen. “I did and they don’t even know who I’m talking about.” He whined, seeing him angered you. You wanted nothing more than to go down there and yell at him, but you knew you couldn’t. “And you expect me to?” Taehyung laughed, catching glimpse of you upstairs as lalo pulled you out of sight. He took you to your room and all noise from downstairs was instantly muted. “Sorry, But can’t let you be seen.” He explained and ten minutes later, taehyung entered the room. “How was shopping?” He questioned but you were not in the mood to talk about that. “What did he want?” You changed the conversation and he groaned slightly. His eyes narrowing at you. “He wanted me to find you.” He answered and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?” You started. “And How is you saying you don’t know me gonna play out when you drag me to his wedding,” you snarled and taehyung took a deep breath. “Firstly, calm down angel.” He whispered. “Second, He was just curious as to where you went. Truthfully, as far as he knows,” he paused. Swallowing before he answered. “He thinks you’re dead.” Your heart squeezed. Seokjin thought you were dead and was still going through with the wedding. Taehyung sat on your bed and patted it so you would sit with him. “Lastly, he won’t act up on his wedding day. Not when he’ll have all crews and especially namjoons family there.” Taehyung pushed away a strand of your hair. “Sleep,” his hand still holding your hair away from your face. “Tomorrow there will be a meeting here with Jimin and jungkook.” He stood up and walked towards the door. “You are to attend.” He turned before existing. A small smile on his face. “Goodnight yn,”
The next morning you sat in the conference room with the three men. Each of them coming with ideas to merge their cities without causing chaos. “Why is this so hard, are you doing it secretly?” You questioned and jungkook nodded. “We don’t want the others knowing. They will think we are conspiring against them” Jimin answered. “and the result of that would be?” You asked, your eyes on taehyung. “War.” He answered and you only shrugged. “So fight for what’s yours.” Jimin snickering at your comment. “It’s not that easy,” jungkook spoke. “Right now Nyla and seokjin stand in our way to connect cities.” He showed you the map. “So take it.” You snarled and Jimin laughed loudly. “You know I was starting to wonder why taehyung wanted you so badly.” He smiled as he circled a place on the map. “In order to do that, we need to make them weak.” Taehyung has a finger on his mouth as of thinking of what to say. “This will have to wait, we will know more after the wedding.” He stood and an idea popped into your head. “What if I agreed to be his plaything?” Taehyung’s head snapped to you faster than he ever reacted to anything. “And what the fuck for?” Truthfully this was probably the first time he was angry or vulgar with you. “Ah,” You stuttered. “It was a suggestion, I thought maybe we could have an inside person.” He shook his head. “No.” Taehyung left the room in a storm, you quickly following after him. “Hey,” You chased him, your hand grabbing his as you stopped him. “It was just a suggestion, I don’t understand why you’re so upset?” He inhaled and turned to you. “This is a dangerous life, yn.” He stared down at you. Daggers in his eyes. “Just because I keep you in the loop, doesn’t mean I want you participating.” He added and you felt offended. “Why do you treat me like a child.” You grew furious. “you have lalo follow me everywhere. You involve me in your work, but won’t let me do anything. Jimin wanted me to go with him to a trade and you refused. If this is my life now, let me have control of it stop treating me like I am your property.” Taehyung didn’t seem to be listening. “No.” He turned away from you. “Why the fuck not-“ he turned around, his face only a few inches from yours. “Because I care about you.” He said it aggressively. As if saying it was hard for him, or like he was holding it in for so long. Your body instantly relaxed and he sighed. His eyes closing as he inhaled. “I care about you too.” You whispered and he gave a soft half smile. “but I’m not as fragile as you think.” You looked into his eyes. They softened at your words. “I’m starting to realize that.” His hand reaching up caress your face. Maybe if you had another second, he would kissed you, but jungkook interrupted. “i have a problem in my city, you coming?” Jungkook looked furious. “Jimin wants yn there.” He added, and taehyung looked down at you. “You wanted to see,” he started. “I guess this is your chance.” He finished, pulling away from you. “Come on, let’s see how ruthless this life can be.” Jimin smirked as he walked past the both of you.
Authors note: because I was asked about this, I feel like explaining if anyone else has questions. This story involves Seokjin, but he is a very limited. It’s told in the point of view of the reader, which most of their stories of him will be memories and few actual interactions. Which is also why this started so fast, instead of a few chapters with Seokjin and yn. A little further in the story he will be more active. Also sorry for typos I always double check but sometimes I miss them until I read the published version ╥﹏╥
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