#i couldn’t fathom that that many people knew and understood and accepted me

[radios-universe]

went to an aroace meet up at my uni and didn’t feel like completely shrinking up and dying the whole time Huge ‼️

[missterwild]

Mother's day

Gwydion entered The Rose Thorn with a sigh, slinging their bag off of their shoulders when they reached the counter. They felt overwhelmed from their day. There had been too much noises, too much light, too many smells.

Way too many questions as well.

Mother’s day had been coming up and, as much as they tried to avoid it, they’d been asked about their plans. As much as they wanted to stay polite, a few people had still pushed them when they answered that they didn’t have any. Why couldn’t people just accept that and leave them alone?

They washed their hands and fell heavily in the chair behind the counter, letting their forehead rest on the cool wooden feelings. They let the feeling spread through their whole body as they steadied their breath, using the techniques Kassja had helped them develop.

They heard the woman’s steps get closer from the storage room, but didn’t bother looking up. She gently tapped on the table to greet them, lowering the music’s volume. She addressed a smile to them and spoke in her mellifluous voice.

“Hey,” she pulled a chair and sat down in front of them. “How was your day?”

Gwydion stuck his thumb down, their forehead still resting on the counter. They didn’t have the energy to put everything into words at the moment and knew that Kassja could still understand them anyway. A small, compassionate smile crept up on her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

“You know you can tell me about it any time,” she told them kindly, running her fingers through her hair.

They took a deep breath and let a sigh escape from their lips before lifting up their head and propping their chin on their forearms. They hesitated, their gaze wandering around the shop’s main room. The soft lights filtered through the windows and colourful hues of the flowers and other plants were quite comfortable for their eyes, contrary to most other environments.

“It’s just…” they started, blinking tears away from their eyes. “Mother’s Day is coming up,” they muttered.

Kassja understood what they meant without needing to explain. She looked at the university student and pulled out an apple from what seemed like thin air but Gwydion noticed that she’d had an apple flower between her fingers that bloomed and matured into a fruit in the span of a few moments. She put the fruit on the table and they picked it up, fiddling with it.

Their focus was on the apple as they rolled it in their hands, finding the words coming to them more easily now.

“People, even those who don’t usually pay attention to me, have been bothering me a lot today. They can’t seem to fathom that some folks don’t really do anything for that, or even that it might bring up bad memories.”

They continued to play with their apple as they talked, venting out their thoughts and feelings. “It’s been bugging me all day and I- I didn’t feel like I should’ve told them, ‘cause it’s none of their business and they probably would’ve thought I was lying anyway… but I kind of feel like maybe I should have, just so they’d leave me alone…”

They looked up to see Kassja shaking her head, making sure they were done speaking before giving them a verbal answer. “You don’t have to answer any questions you’re not comfortable with. These people aren’t owed anything from you just because they’re curious.”

Gwydion thought on her words for a minute before putting on a small smile and nodding. They held their apple in both hands, using it to keep themself grounded as tears formed in their eyes. The florist brought a hand to cup their cheek and caressed it with her thumb. With a smile, she spoke to them, her voice full of affection.

“Why don’t you eat up while I go back to get our tool,” she suggested, “and when I get back, you can help with the rest of today’s tasks.”

“Thanks,” they nodded and brought the fruit to their mouth as she walked to the storage room. Under their breath, they couldn’t help but add: “mom…”

[universestreasures]

duskshrouded​:

    Ren’s startled slightly by Aichi abruptly pulling away, hurt at the action reflecting a moment in his eyes.

      Ah… Aichi was still torturing himself, still making himself bleed so. Oh how it hurt Ren’s heart so much. Why couldn’t he see what they saw? Why couldn’t he believe them?

    Then again… Ren understood it all from a different, yet similar point of view. All of the abuse he had suffered, all of the things that had plagued his mind – To being saved by his units, only to come to abuse that power and newfound bound when the world had spited him even more.

       Yet despite everything he had done, in lashing out against the world that had hurt, had betrayed him so – People still cared for him. Accepted him. Looked up to him.

    Why couldn’t Aichi understand the same for him? And Aichi had no where sinned as much as Ren had, when PSYqualia had consumed him to the point of what felt like no return.

            "Aichi…“

   The honorific is dropped in this moment, his tone turning more somber, yet still gentle. He kneels down, a hand reaching out to gently rub the other’s back.

            "Because you did everything you did to help us. To try to aid us. You wanted to save us and you were willing to sacrifice yourself to ensure that. While it does hurt, it is noble that you would be willing to lay down your life for us.”

   Ren ponders a moment… Was now the time to say it? To actually drop the shroud he kept carefully over his heart? While he normally for the most part kept the bluenette close, he had difficulty showing anyone the full extent of his heart. Even with Asaka, hell even Tetsu.

      Relationships of any kind were something that the young man both craved and was fearful of. What if things went south? What if that love turned to hate? What if events of the past repeated themselves?

   But… This wasn’t about him. This wasn’t about his own problems and fears and worries. This was all about Aichi, someone he was trying to get to understand just how much he meant to everyone – And especially how much he meant to himself.

            "Aichi, we – No. I’m going to stop trying to speak for everyone else, because I am not everyone else. I am simply myself and thus I should be speaking for myself. I am not asking you to be an unbreakable sword or a beacon of light. You are not perfect, you are only human, a very amazing human. You saved me from the darkest pits of almost being completely consumed by PSYqualia.

                Yet despite how I was, you still care for me. You still want me near. I have never felt unwanted or despised by you. Never once have I felt the things I did when I was younger. I feel so warm with you. I look at you and I see the purest sunshine, you light up my day. My life. I wanted nothing more than to stop you from doing what you did, yes. But I knew I couldn’t stop you, so as much as it pained me, I let you go.“

   He takes in a shaky breath, voice wavering a moment as he continues on.

            "Aichi… I know what you think you are. I know you view yourself in such a shallow light. But you are amazing, kind, gracious, generous, and understanding. You are the most unselfish person I have ever met. You have more love for life than I can possibly even hope to fathom.

                You say you made things worse and yet all I see is the fruit of your labor. While not everything went perfect, while there were terrible things that happened, I see so many good things. More good things than bad. Every story is not without it’s conflict, it’s mistakes, it’s journey.

            So please, understand that it’s OKAY. It’s okay that you made the choices you did in the end. Maybe they weren’t right, but you did what you FELT was right in that moment and I understand that. But I need YOU to understand that I forgive you, I had already forgiven you long ago, like I said. But please, for my sake, stop hurting yourself. Stop reopening the wounds on your heart, please let them heal.”

   Ren moves closer now, pausing a moment before gently tilting the other’s head in a way that he could press his forehead to his.

             "Stop letting yourself drown in this pain and guilt, Aichi. Let me save you like you did me. Let me help you heal… Please. I love you, Aichi… I love you so much. Stop pushing everyone you love and hold close away.“

Tears continued to stream down his face, his eyes shut to the world and instead bore witness to the images that appeared there. Even when he wasn’t using his Psyqualia, Aichi still had an active imagination that offered appeared during heightened periods of emotion. During a Cardfight or a situation where he needed to be brave, they could give him confidence and calmness to do what must be done. What was happening right here, however, is the other side to that coin. 

All he can see are his failures before him, the very same ones he admitted to Ren. They all manifested in front of him, surrounding him to the point where it feels like they will consume and drown him in his own darkness. Perhaps seeing such horrific images is his own way of self punishment, a permanent reminder of his mistakes that further stains upon his bright bright soul. 

However, through the sights of the shadowy figures, he starts to hear words bleed through. They are words of kindness, words of care, and words from the heart. It takes him a moment to realize just who is talking, even though he hasn’t physically moved anywhere since this conversation started. Guess he got so caught up in his own feels he once again was ignoring what was right in front of him.

How ironic...

“R-Ren..?” Saying his name allows the shadows of his sins to vanish like phantoms, his image filled with a red glow. It was different than that of Kai’s crimson flames, this aura being a bit ominous but still bright and comforting. This was Ren’s light, a dark and warm light that broke through the darkness of his own images, and brought him back to reality, cerulean hues stained with tears opening up to look straight into red eyes with how close they were.

“I...” He tries to talk, but the words die in his throat. His emotions were still running high to speak sentences coherently. That’s why he focuses on his breathing, breathing slowly in and out. He feels oddly calm with the other so close, and if he was in a better state of mind, surely his face would be red with embarrassment. Now was not such a time, and after a small period of getting himself to a calmer state and truly having taken in all that the other said, he finally talks. 

“I...I really am just repeating my mistakes instead of learning from them...” It was a lesson he thought he had learned well from how he improved so fast at Vanguard, but applying such a thing to real life was often much more difficult it seemed. “I...I can’t change the past, no matter how much I’d like to. I can...I can only move forward into the future...And...I want a future with everyone I care about is in it smiling and playing Vanguard together, including you, Ren.”

He can almost picture it clear as day, all his friends having fun at a shop tournament in Card Capital together. Those times, those simple times with loved ones, were what he had been willing to sacrifice for the sake of the world. And it’s because of those loved ones that he can once again enjoy those simple times. How foolish of he was to deny himself of what his friends fought so hard for, kept secrets for, and suffered for? 

Man...he is not looking forward to getting chewed out by the others for being so stupid, but...he’s still prepared to take it in stride. As Ren said, he can’t really heal if he keeps opening wounds. Right now was as good a time as any to try, right? That’s what moved him forward to rest himself against Ren, his head resting on the taller male’s shoulder as his eyes close again. 

It’s...warm...So warm...

“Thank you, Ren...I...I needed that...” He mumbles, his voice muffled by the position. “Can I...stay like this for...a while? I’m suddenly...really...exhausted... Guess all those...sleepless nights...are catching up with me...”

~

[lonely-lost-soul]

First Lady of the Court

Part 3: Ghostbur (C!Wilbur Soot x reader)

A worn journal was opened, the pages faded and yellowing, a pen was placed on the parchment and the owner began to write. The sun rose over the horizon, and the wind nipped at the writer's skin, but they didn’t feel it. They didn’t feel many of life's sensations anymore, sometimes he felt warmth but it was always fleeting. He titled the page:

"Things I Remember", by Ghostbur

-The smell of bread

- L'Manberg

- The Revolution

- Bullying Tommy (he's a child)

- Sparring with Techno as a kid

- The wind

- Being president

- People cheering for me

- Fundy growing up

- Niki

- (Y/N) becoming my first lady

- The van

- Tubbo building everything

- Phil protecting me

- Sally the salmon

- (Y/N) the new love of my life

- (Y/N) adoring Fundy and treating him as her own

- Philza stabbing me to death with a sword

- A large explosion

-(Y/N) crying for me, I don’t like when she’s sad

- The taste of salt

- Air in my lungs

- Winning the election

- A ravine

- Techno's armory

- Books

- Tunnels

- Arrows

- ./..

-

- I don't know

The ghost’s head snapped up to attention, up until a few months ago he was lost in a void of darkness. Pieces were coming back together for him, he was once Wilbur Soot the president of the country he fought and died for, but now he didn’t have a purpose. He wanted to find Fundy, Tommy and Phil let them know he was here and alright, well alright for a ghost. But most importantly he wanted to find (Y/N), her cries wouldn’t leave his head. It was bad, a bad, bad memory, he’d taken to holding pieces of blue to make him feel better, but even that didn’t help his mood.

Eventually, Wilbur had found Fundy, who wasn’t that thrilled to see him, much to his disappointment. When he found Tommy he was slightly more thrilled and Phil seemed to be relieved yet mournful, Wilbur didn’t understand why, he did a good thing. However he had yet to find her, Phil seemed to be the only one who knew but he was giving him nothing. He didn’t know why was it because you didn’t want to see him? The thought made him want to cover himself in blue and beg for forgiveness. He managed to find a brand new buddy in his mourning, a blue sheep he had dubbed Friend. You would love her, (Y/N) adored sheep she would love Friend, she could be a forgiveness gift. Yet, nobody would tell the ghost where you were no matter how much he begged and pleaded, he watched as his once-prosperous country got rebuilt. Tubbo was doing a fantastic job as president, everyone seemed happy and Ghostbur accepted that fact.

A few days ago, Ghostbur sensed something was wrong. Phil was acting weirdly distant and even though Tubbo was trying to dodge his questions, he couldn’t fathom what was going on, until he saw you. You had come in wearing Alivebur’s old jacket and Ghostbur immediately froze, your hair was slightly messy and you looked tired. You were still you, same gorgeous, beautiful you, if his heart was still beating it would’ve skipped a beat. The only difference he could find was that your eyes looked deader than his own, and he was a ghost, it made him ache terribly. He wanted to float towards you, to welcome you with open arms but for some reason, he hesitated. He watched as Phil made his way over to you, he wrapped you in a hug and you hugged him back, the two made some small talk before Phil rubbed the back of his neck. Your brow furrowed and he watched you blink in surprise, you looked over Phil’s shoulder and right through Wilbur. The ghost would’ve flushed if he had blood, instead he settled on fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater before holding up a hand in a wave. You stumbled back away from him looking over at Phil who gave a little nod, Wilbur watched you shake your head and his heart sunk. His father reached out to you and your face scrunched up, you were hissing at him, clearly pissed off. Phil whacked you on the back of his head and you glared at the older man, Wilbur felt a small nudge on his arm, it was Friend. He took a shaky breath and ran his fingers through her wool, at least she had his back, when he looked up again you were marching over to him.

God, you were hot when you were mad.

“(Y/n)! Darling! It’s good to see you-”

“You son of a bitch!” You spat at him, eyes suddenly blazing with life and fire, Ghostbur felt himself falter and shrink into himself. “You think you can just come back here after what you did to us! How you treated us, how you treated me!” Ghostbur’s face fell, he didn’t remember hurting you, he refused to remember that memory, but the way he clutched his blue said enough. “I loved you! I wanted to marry you!” You choked out suddenly deflating as tears began to well in your eyes, you cursed and covered your face with your sleeve. “I cannot believe I’m crying right now.”

“You need some blue?” Wilbur said in a soft, tender voice different than you last remembered. You looked out over your sleeve finally taking in his ghostly appearance, he was wearing his big, round glasses, eyes a soft grey. Blue seemed to be pooling in the edges almost like tears, he had a shaky smile on his features, the yellow sweater he wore was one you’ve never seen before, a large red gash sat on his chest. He watched you swallow thickly and take a step back from him, “I don’t remember what happened to make you hate me so dear.” His voice quivered and he heard you whimper, “But I am so sorry...you can call me Ghostbur, I want to be different from Alivebur. Though his love for you still lives in me.”

Ghostbur watched you let out a heart-wrenching sob as you fell to your knees in front of him. You were clutching the L’manburg pin on your lapel, knuckles white, hands shaking in petrification. He floated beside you and wrapped you up in his arms, the hug wasn’t unwelcome but it was cold, Wilbur knew you’d feel no warmth from it but he hoped it’d bring you some form of comfort.

“I missed you. So much,” You admitted with a sniff, and Ghostbur couldn’t help but smile sadly.

“I missed you too,” He ran a hand through your hair and you leaned into the apparition's ghostly touch. Ghostbur glanced up at Phil who had a tense smile on his face as he nodded slightly at the ghost, it read don’t hurt her again, and Wilbur nodded. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you, you need to meet Friend!” His eyes lit up a little as he looked around for his blue sheep, “You’ll love her!”

“I’ve been living with Fundy,” You answered his question and his brows furrowed, but Fundy had told him he had no idea where you lived. “We’ve been taking care of one another, just like I promised you we would,” You responded flatly, your voice had a flat affect and Wilbur shuffled uncomfortably in the air.

Where was your spark? Your lust for life and the good things? Was this his fault?

No. No, it couldn’t have been, he refused to accept that outcome.

Alivebur loved you just as much as Ghostbur did, he felt that love so deep in his being it was almost suffocating. So, he’d never hurt you, you don’t hurt the people you love and that’s a fact. So why were you so sad?

“That’s weird. Fundy said he couldn’t find you!” Ghostbur huffed, shaking his head at his son's actions, “My silly, little champion.”

“Ghostbur don’t call him that, he doesn’t like it.” You stated gruffly crossing your arms and his frown only deepened,

“What do you mean he doesn’t like it? Of course, he likes it, he loves it!”

“No Wil he doesn’t. Stop it.” You hissed and he flinched, your face fell a little and you turned away from him. You shoved your hands in the pockets of the jacket, “I need a smoke.” You muttered and his jaw dropped,

“That’s bad for you! You know that!”

“So what? It makes me fucking feel better. You’re not my Wilbur. Stop pretending you give a shit about me.”

“I do care! I love you!” He argued desperately, “I know I’m not him. I can never be him but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. His love transferred to me, please...give me a chance.” You looked at him up and down and he’s never felt more terrified in his entire existence, he needed your hope, he could fix you.

“You don’t understand how much he hurt me.” You whispered completely vulnerable, “he went crazy, blew up a nation, and left me alone.”

He. Meaning Alivebur, Ghostbur was glad he was distinguishing the difference between the both of them. He didn’t remember doing that to you, after all, Ghostbur didn’t do that to you.

“I’ll never leave you alone. I can promise you that, with my whole heart I swear it.” He took your hands within his own, he knew you could barely feel his touch. You closed your eyes for a minute before reopening them,

“I’ll give you one chance. One. So help me god, if you ruin that chance I will never speak to you again. That’s a promise.”

Ghostbur swallowed thickly, nerves prickling at his entire being, “I won’t waste that chance, my dear.” You gave a stern nod and rubbed the back of your neck with a tired sigh,

“So...Friend?”

Ghostbur’s entire demeanor changed as he introduced you to the blue sheep that had taken a rather strong liking to him. The sheep nuzzled at your chest sniffing at your clothing choice, you hesitated a little before running your fingers through her wool.

“She’s very soft.”

“I know right!” he chimed wrapping his arms tight around his sheepy buddy, he buried his face in her wool. Ghostbur saw a weary smile spread across your face which made him smile back at you in return.

Maybe this could still work out for the both of you.

Months went by and you had set up residence outside of New L’manburg, everyone understood why you couldn’t make a permanent home out of the new country after everything that occurred there. In between watching over an exiled Tommy, Ghostbur would come by and visit you, even though you hated to admit it the ghost of your former lover had won you over. He was just so innocent so unlike the man who blew up his own country, so much like the goofball you had originally fallen in love with, you were enraptured. When New L’manburg blew up you weren’t surprised, there was a dull ache in your heart when you heard the news from a sobbing Ghostbur but you couldn’t feel sympathy. What you did feel sympathy about though was Phil’s uncaring attitude towards Friend, it was the first time you heard Ghostbur get legitimately angry.

It scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Even so, you confronted your former lover; he didn’t like sadness and tried to push the feeling away. You tried to comfort him the best way you could but he insisted he was fine opting to take his blue and forget his sadness. That was another thing, his quote on quote blue, it never did sit right with you. Hurt, sadness, and pain are hard emotions to face but they create character and depth and ultimately shouldn’t just be forgotten so easily, after all, how will you ever learn from your mistakes if you don’t experience sadness. Ghostbur didn’t want to hear your reasoning and still took towards using the blue, you eventually gave up trying to convince him otherwise.

You were sitting outside on your porch, rocking on your porch swing a cup of cocoa in your hand. Ghostbur was sitting beside you, head on your shoulder humming a soft tune to himself,

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Ghostbur had asked so innocently it made your heart leap into your throat. Thoughts of Wilbur and his betrayal flashed across your mind, you wanted to scream and say no. That you’ll never let someone like that hurt you again, you were too strong, you opened your mouth but the hope in Ghostbur’s eyes made you close your mouth. This wasn’t the Wilbur you knew, this was Ghostbur, sure he was the ghost of Wilbur but they were so different. Ghostbur made you happy, he made you remember what it was like to be a good person, made you remember what it was like when you first met Wilbur. He made you smile and laugh, and he genuinely adored and cared for your happiness. You found yourself uttering a soft okay before your brain could comprehend your decision, the smile that lit up across Ghostbur’s face was illuminating. He floated over to you and cupped your cheeks, his pale hands were freezing, but it felt good against your scalding hot cheeks. Ghostbur’s eyes softened as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a soft kiss, the kiss was cold but not unpleasant. You felt him melt against you, and press desperately on to your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle you felt him pull away. He had the cutest pout on his pale lips,

“Don’t giggle at my kisses!” Ghostbur sounded so offended, you only laughed harder. “Stopppppppp,” he whined leaning against you dramatically.

“I’m sorry Ghostbur.” You covered your mouth with your hand, “You’re just too cute.”

You watched him freeze at your genuine compliment, a smile broke across his features,

“No, you’re cute!” Ghostbur cooed floating around you and wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You leaned into his touch with bright red cheeks,

“You’re a goofball,” You whispered softly, he nuzzled his face into your hair,

“I love you.” You froze in his arms and tensed up, reality crashing back onto all at once. Did you really kiss your dead lover's ghost? The lover who was a fucking asshole to you and blew up an entire country.

Not a girl boss moment.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Ghostbur was quick to add, “I know how hard this is for you. There’s no pressure with me my dear, I just want you to know how I feel.” He pressed the sweetest of kisses to the side of your head. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not out of sadness, out of shock. You couldn’t believe Ghostbur was once Wilbur, the same man you yelled and screamed at you before his death, Ghostbur was wonderful. Ghostbur was kind and sweet, gentle and tender, one day you’d be ready to say you love him, just not yet, not when everything is so fresh.

“Thank you Ghostbur. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Anything for you my dear.”

Months turned into years and you had officially fallen in love with your clingy ghost and his blue sheep. You knew he loved you to absolute bits, there were many occasions where Phil and Technoblade came up to you and begged you to get Ghostbur to stop gushing about you. You only turned red and smiled fondly, they scoffed but ruffled your hair, overall both were happy to see you smiling again. You hadn’t kept up with the dramas of the SMP, all your information was from Ghostbur, which happened to be not all that reliable.

You loved him but he was so naive, Tommy and Tubbo had defeated Dream, taken two of his cannon lives, and locked him in Sam’s prison. When Ghostbur told you a smile overtook your features, finally the bastard was getting what he deserved.

Isolation.

Tommy was growing closer with Ghostbur again too, which you couldn’t help but be happy about, he too deserved to heal from the trauma Wilbur had inflicted. You trusted Tommy, even when everyone else didn’t you tried to have his back and showed you he cared in his own weird way. Which mostly meant not stealing your shit, which you weren’t complaining about, today, however, he seemed tense. You both were walking the Prime Path on your way back to your abode, Tommy was loud and rambling, but they were different from his usual ramblings.

“Tommy?”

“What is it, women? I’m in the middle of my heroic story!”

“Are you alright?” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and saw him go rigid. He cleared his throat shaking away his nerves,

“Fuck you talking about? Of course, I’m okay bitch. Don’t interrupt me again!” He scoffed nose high in the air, you narrowed your eyes and he shrunk under your gaze. “I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, you thought about his resurrection and assumed it had something to do with that, your gaze drifted to the white streaks littering his hair.

“Hey...it’s okay. Just know I’m here for you,” You assured with a smile. You reached up to squeeze his shoulder, he looked shocked at the affectionate gesture,

“Obviously I know that! Don’t assume things bitch!” Tommy shouted shaking off your hand, you shook your head with a smile and let Tommy continue his story. If the young boy wanted to tell you, he would on his own terms. That night Ghostbur had come home absolutely shaking with excitement,

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo said we’re going on an adventure tonight!” Ghostbur was absolutely glowing, you couldn’t help but smile faintly at his antics.

“Don’t have too much fun.” You chastised teasingly, ghostbur giggled in delight as you pressed a kiss to his cold skin. “Stay safe, don’t let them bully you too much.”

“They don’t bully me,” he huffed but he leaned in for another kiss. Ghostbur had discovered he loved your kisses, even though they were probably cold to you all he felt was warmth. If he was a hybrid like his son his tail would be wagging, and if he was alive he’d be bright red. “I love you (y/n), of course, I’ll stay safe. I promised you I’d never leave you remember?”

You flushed and nodded, “I remember. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Until then my dear!” He took your hand within his own and kissed the tops of your knuckles. You flushed pink and he sent you a cheeky grin,

“Get out of here loverboy! Don’t keep the children waiting!” You shouted as he floated out the door with a giant wave,

“I’ll be sending you kisses!”

“Ghostbur oh my god, go already!” You giggled with a fond roll of your eyes, he laughed loudly and floated out the door.

You should’ve told him you loved him. It’s okay, there would always be tomorrow.

You were getting ready for bed when Tubbo called you over the walkie-talkie, he was frantically apologizing and pleading for you to come to the crater that was L’manburg. Tommy then stole the walkie talking and started shouting about Ghostbur and your heart sink into your chest. He didn’t make a whole lot of sense but you put on a coat over your pajamas and ran in the direction of the once-prosperous nation. When you got there Tubbo and Tommy were a mess, Ranboo was trying to calm them down and Friend looked uncomfortable.

Where was Ghostbur?

You opened your mouth to call out to the boys when a pair of arms snuck around your waist. They were warm and real, pale hands caressed your abdomen,

“Hi, darling. Did you miss me?” Warm lips handed on your neck, “I missed you.”

Wilbur was back.

~~~ @blossom-702 @mayempress @thatguythatsshy

[a-froger-epic]

Thank you for putting those psychotic Mary stans in their place. They are delusional. It’s mind boggling they keep insisting Freddie loved her above anyone else. Ummm, hello, the man confessed his sexuality to avoid being trapped in a marriage with her. I think he valued his own happiness more than he did hers, and I don’t fault him one bit for it. He could have carried on as a closeted bisexual man, but he chose to tell her “I DON’T LOVE YOU”. Love and affection are not the same thing. And what he felt for Mary was just affection. Tbh, I think she kind of manipulated him emotionally for leaving her and that’s why she stayed on as a friend and as an employee. Any woman that gets her heart broken like that breaks all contact and moves on. You learn to live without the person that caused you so much pain. It’s not like there were any children binding them together, she just couldn’t move on from the fairytale she wanted. Also, I am almost certain GL isn’t hers for life. I remember seeing a copy of his will somewhere and it states the house reverts back to his estate after 40 50? years. So it’s not like she can leave it to her children or anything. I’m trying to find a copy to verify.

I’m not really interested in putting anyone in their place. I have my own thoughts on the whole matter, is all.

I agree that it's pretty weird to insist Freddie loved Mary above everyone else. He had a lot of love for her, he did trust her, he also loved a lot of other people.

I don't, however, think it's as simple as "he confessed his sexuality to avoid being trapped in a marriage with her". First off, he had probably come to a point where he was forced to accept that he was gay. Yes, I'm aware he told her he was bisexual, but to me that really, really seems like him trying to spare her feelings and not make it seem as though their entire relationship had been a sham (because I don’t think it was, to either of them) or - we really can't know - perhaps even still hoping that it could be true. But I think it's the former, I think he was well aware that he was gay by then. He had, after all, been seeing a man behind her back for a year at that point.

And to his confession, Mary did not respond with shock or disbelief. She told him: Freddie, you're gay.

(This got really long, a lot of speculation and analysis under the cut.)

Mary knew, or as good as knew that he was gay. The confession was perhaps the final, definitive confirmation. And that leads me to think that, for one, their sexual relationship must have pretty much been non-existent for a long while at that point. This then begs the question, why didn’t she leave him? Now, anyone who hasn’t been in a long relationship might not be aware how common it is for two people, even without one person struggling with their sexuality, to end up in a sexless relationship. It’s actually really not uncommon. Sometimes, the physical attraction just fizzles out. I was in a relationship with a boy from when I was 16 to when I was 22, and in second half of that relationship we were pretty much down to being intimate every three to four months or so. He wasn’t gay, I was attracted to guys, we were just no longer really at all attracted to each other. But there are many other aspects to a relationship than just sex. I still felt that I was in love with him, I still had romantic feelings for him, even if the actual, sexual attraction was missing. I was the one to break up with him eventually and it broke my heart, too.

I think leaving Mary broke Freddie’s heart as much as it broke Mary’s heart, even though he was also in love with David. I think it’s possible to be in love with more than one person at a time, because that has happened to me - not for everyone, but I think that there are people who are more inclined toward feeling that way. I think Freddie was one of those people, which is evidenced by his insistence that he had enough love for more than person, he expressed so himself. At that point love becomes a conscious choice, because you’ll find few partners who are willing to share. You have to decide who you will and want to stay in love with and simply stay with. And that will be the relationship which is more viable. Clearly, when Freddie left Mary, his relationship with David had become more viable and being a sexual, sensual person, he was not fulfilled living in a partnership that had stopped being a sexual relationship. Whereas Mary, it seems to me, was someone who (and I’ve said this before) very readily brushed things under the carpet and just carried on. And likely would have carried on as long as Freddie was willing to. Yes, I think she loved him a lot, I also think that having been as young as she was when she met him, she couldn’t fathom not being with him anymore. But I think, in a way, Freddie felt the same. 

I disagree with what you say about any woman who has her heart broken removing herself from the situation after and moving on. That has not been my experienced and it is something that is highly individual and varies from person to person, from relationship to relationship, from situation to situation. I personally know more than one woman who has an ex who turned out to be gay and who is still very good friends with them.

I don’t agree that Mary staying in Freddie’s life was all Mary’s emotional manipulation. I would go so far as to say that she probably wanted to remove herself from the situation more than Freddie let her. Again, there is much evidence of Freddie not wanting to let go of people in his life. He had horrendous abandonment issues. In many ways, Freddie was needy. I think he would have been crushed and very distressed if she had broken off all contact with him. He would have found that very, very difficult to deal with. I think, rather, that Mary stayed in his life both because she loved him a lot and because he expressed his need for her to not abandon him completely. 

What comes to mind here is the relationship Kenny Everett had with his wife, which was by no means the same, but strikes some similar chords. So let me go there briefly. When Kenny proposed to his wife, who was a good few years older than him just by the way, she was aware that he was gay. She said she used to think of him as her little gay friend and was shocked at the proposal. However, they had apparently managed to have sex under the influence of LSD (yay, drugs? :/) and so Kenny had got it in his mind that he could marry and be in love with this woman, and that all the right feelings would come with ‘practice’, so he said, more or less. Now, from her perspective, she had already had a failed marriage and probably already understood that often sex is not all, and decided the companionship with somebody who cared about her so much, who she liked being with so much, was worth it. Here is the interesting thing. They went on to have what they both insisted later on was absolutely a real marriage, in their eyes. However, Kenny became depressed because of course he hadn’t ‘cured’ himself of homosexuality by getting married and eventually it was his wife who set him up with a waiter (during a night out to dinner with Freddie, no less, who was already with David at the time) and that waiter became Kenny’s first boyfriend.

But, the story of Kenny and his wife, Lee, does not end there. Lee ended up getting married again, and it was a bit of a shock to her when Kenny not only became quite upset that she would no longer wear his ring but also started popping over to her and her husband’s house for breakfast and such. Inserting himself into their relationship almost as a third wheel to some degree. Kenny did not want her back, he was very, very gay and ended up living with his two (!) gay lovers. But he also refused to let her go for a very long time. It had much to do with the fact that Lee really had mothered him a lot and clearly that was something he couldn’t quite get the same way anywhere else.

Now, Kenny is not Freddie and Lee is not Mary. But I think there was a part of Freddie which was very reluctant to let go of the aspects of Mary which his male partners couldn’t provide for him the same way. The practical care-taking aspect, the mothering, if you will. We are also talking about a certain generation here, please keep in mind, where men were not raised to be and not likely to be of a care-taking nature. I think Freddie solved that problem for himself the absolute best way he could, by keeping her close in a professional sense too and literally assigning her a business-related care-taking role. I’m nowhere near done speculating about all this, by the way. There are so many nuances here.

I do think that Mary felt she was owed something for having given so much of her time/life/energy to him, and I also do think that subconsciously she probably did express what a shame it was that they couldn’t have been right for each other, which fed into Freddie’s guilt and made him feel that he had to always provide for her because it was ‘his fault’ they could not be a happily married couple with children, etc. I have sympathy for both of them, to be honest.

So those are my thoughts on that. The ownership of GL and whether it runs out is not something I know a lot about, I’m afraid.

[juminly]

Moonlight (Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader)

Summary: On a night where you thought Arthur was simply sweeping you off your feet as he always did, he wanted to do much more than that. He had so much to be thankful for. All of those reasons were... you. Word Count: 2.1 K. (This was supposed to be a drabble...) Tags: Pre-relationship fluff, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergent (in a way?), Not Beta Read. –♥–  You thought it was just one of those times when one of the residents, one of which was Arthur, would try to occupy your time somehow, distracting you from the fact that you were away from home, far from the reality that you knew, grew up in and loved. It didn’t bother you that much, especially since you were in good company yet getting used to different customs, being surrounded by people who didn’t even speak a language you understood wasn’t really the easiest. After breakfast was over, Arthur was one of the first to leave, creeping up slowly to stand behind your chair at the dining table and slipping a small note in your hand as he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, low and sweet: “Don’t be late, pretty dove. I’ll be waiting for you.” You were not one to be easily swayed with sweet words and flirtations, very much able to throw some back and exude the same playfulness back at whoever it is that was trying to woo you yet when it came to the mystery writer, the heat that crept up your cheek was involuntary, accompanied by the smile that he always managed to draw on those lips of yours. Hearing his voice and the smile in it was plenty to have you filled with happiness and the prospect of spending more time with him, alone, was so much better. Reading the note while you were on the way to your room, you grinned at his cheeky message, inviting you to a day out with him where he can flaunt you before all of the skirts in Paris and show them how beautiful your wings were, the prettiest dove he has ever laid eyes upon. Shaking your head at this, knowing that it was just some prelude to what he really wanted to say. Reaching a small note at the end, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you gazed at the intricately written words on the piece of paper, a dreamy sigh escaping you as you wondered how such a wonderful man is often disregarded and even scorned by those who surround him. You had absolutely no idea what he was up to and you didn’t even care. “I would love for you to accompany me to an occasion that I cannot bring myself to attend on my own. Lend me your hand for the evening, love and I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Also, tonight will be quite chilly so do make sure to bring a shawl with you, unless you would rather be warmed in my arms. A much more agreeable option, if I may say so.”

As he had instructed, you were a pretty dress that Sebastian had gotten you, one of many that he populated your wardrobe with, to make sure that you didn't feel completely out of place, having to always wear the same clothes or go to town, every single damn time you felt like you wanted to wear something different. You absolutely added your own touches to it, making it a bit more modern, a little more you which always earned you a wide knowing smile from Arthur, especially now that you were all dressed up to go out with him... Wishful thinking as it was, he told himself that you were all dolled up for him, your lips painted in a bloody shade of crimson that made him wish that he could sink his fangs in your neck and kiss you, so he could share the sweet taste of you, a wonder that you could both enjoy together. Before his daydreams could fly even further away from any sort of reality that could never happen, he took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, leading you out of the grand door of the mansion and into the cities of Paris, just a little before sunset. The skies were a beautiful shade of pink, a colour that tinted both of your faces while you both laughed together at whatever ridiculous story Arthur had recounted to you, the man never failing to find any sort of avenue to entertain you. Just hearing that boyishness resonate from him, the way his eyes crinkled and his lips spread widely and freely across his handsome face, letting go of any sort of restraint that he might have to uphold some sort of image or composure before you. This was just him. The Arthur that you got was the real Arthur and it was the little things that you noticed, the things that were just slightly different when he was with you that made you want to be even closer to him. Literally speaking, Arthur had wound his arm around you, keeping your side flush against his while you walked to wherever your destination was, the simple gesture was left unquestioned since you had caught the reason why he did so. Man thought he was so smooth but you did see how many of the men passing by were looking at you, especially that it was getting darker, the crowd that you would find lurking around were much different and you would know, especially after your many trips to the bar with Arthur and Theo. But now that you were much closer, the rich smell that wafted from Arthur was even stronger, intoxicating as you always found it, making your mind swirl as you inhaled it and sighed happily as discretely as you could. On another end, the mystery writer was doing the same, a satisfied smile playing on the corner of his pink lips, the small beauty mark by his lips appeared to be a bit higher, lifting even more as you both turned to look into each other's eyes at the same moment, a round of shy chuckles ensuing as your story-filled stroll had finally come to an end. Entering through a door to some establishment that you've never been to before, slowly the sound of a crowd filled your ears as you found yourself in a room filled with people. Groups talking animatedly and excitedly in French, you obviously having absolutely no idea what they were talking about but one thing you couldn't miss, they were all holding a book in their hands. Throwing a curious glance in Arthur's direction, his leathered fingers gave yours a tight squeeze. Whether it was a conscious or unconscious gesture, the man had no clue as he gave you a wistful smile, a heavy sigh escaping his lips when he finally leaned down, inching closer to you so you could hear him better. Sweet man, he thought he needed to do that when the moment he parted his lips and his sweet voice came from them, every other sound in the damn world was blocked and he was the only thing you could hear. "Remember when you had to tear me away from writing a few days ago, forcing me to rest as I couldn't bring myself to do so. Well, love, this is the result of your kindness to me. It was exactly what I needed yet, something I never bring myself to ask for." He lifted a leathered index, circling it around, a gesture ushering you to gaze around you, take in your surroundings before you brought your eyes back to him, his tone oozing with gratitude and an atypical solemness that he only exuded when he was serious and speaking from the heart. "I've known about these gatherings even since I began writing again. The moment one of my writings is published, these people flock together to celebrate it, for a reason that I could never comprehend." With a sheepish yet derisive chuckle, Arthur turned his eyes down and at your linked hands, squeezing them tighter, expecting an onslaught that he had become accustomed to, when you began reprimanding him for not valuing or showing any love to his work. The warmth that painted his cheeks and filled his chest was not what he was expecting as you pulled on his hand so your lips could press gently over that mark of his that you really loved, while you went on the tip of your toes to grace him with the soft touch of your crimson lips. "Thank you for choosing me to be with you today." You murmured softly before resting back down on your heels, basking in his soft gaze, his expression tender and heartfelt. He was one step closer to his journey of self-acceptance and you were happy that he even considered keeping you close, not even knowing that he borrowed strength from you. Strength that he needed to turn his back on his past and look forward. Even if it was just a baby step, you were going to cut him some slack and refrain from giving him a piece of your mind. Just seeing him radiate ease, the comfort of a man that had just found light at the end of a dreary and dark tunnel. Shaking his head lightly, he brought your linked hands up to his lips and kissed your hand once again before placing them right over your heart "I would never fathom anyone other than yourself accompanying me on a day like this, my lovely dove." You sighed at the softness of his voice, if only he knew that you really wanted to be 'his' dove and you still had yet to know that he felt the same. Pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles, a grin stretched on his handsome face, an unmistakable playful glint in his eyes as he simply said "Let's go" and pulled you through the crowds and out of the building you were in. As usual, the man was unpredictable and you never knew what he was up to. When you stood your ground, furrowing your eyes at him and asking him why you even left that small party, he clicked his tongue as you told him that he should enjoy being 'the man of the hour'. That was the last thing that he really wanted. Because he was now truly where he wanted to be and if you were going to fight him on it, then he would have to do it the hard way. Swiftly leaning down, he threw you over his shoulders as he strutted the streets, the resounding click of his oxfords on the pavement joined by the sound of your useless cries. If there was anything that was true, Arthur was able to match you when it came to stubbornness. When you began to kick your legs, whining for him to let you down, you yelped as he tapped your bottom, a sudden cheeky (literally too) gesture and chuckled in response to your mock offended tone. "I thought you were a gentleman!" Feeling him shrug under you, he replied in between his laughter."A small correction, love. I am a playful gentleman." You've finally found your true rival when it came to that but he was the best opponent that you could ever wish for. Finally halting in a quiet corner by La Seine river, Arthur finally let you down on soft grass and comfortably sat by your side, his head falling on your shoulder while his hand sought yours once again, his thumb brushing softly on your skin as he cut through the silence before you could ask, knowing what was on your mind. "As selfish as it may be, I wanted to be the one you watch the full moon with during your time here, love." Lifting his head so he could kiss your temple, turning his body so he could lay his back on the ground, with his head nestled on your thighs. This was a sight that he prayed that he would never lose, seeing you smile down at him with your fingers threaded through his soft unruly waves, eventually lulling his eyes shut as the slumber that he tried to chase away caught up to him. Blinded by his own love for you, he couldn't see the yearning in your eyes as you watched the man you were irrevocably in love with, melt under your touch. Unable to help yourself, you brushed your lips against his forehead, happy to see Arthur at peace, his breathing growing steady as he slowly fell asleep with a smile on his face. You had no idea that he was awake all along, trying to give himself a reason to keep you all to himself before he had to escort you back to the mansion, in the late hours of the night. Still... While you both bathed in the moonlight, your love began to simmer, the glowing embers burning brighter as time went by. –♥–  A/N: I know the some elements in this fic might not be as per what’s in the game but this is how I believe Arthur’s character development would slowly but surely happen.  Tagging: @nafeary @kisara-16 @delicateikemenmemes @theweebrises​ if anyone wants to be tagged or untagged, let me know <3  Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I���m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.  

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.  

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

[unfortunatelysirius]

Loving Draco Malfoy...

***I felt like doing something angsty with a happy ending; hope you enjoy ;) Big thanks to everyone for all their nice comments and encouragement! Stay tuned for more, lots of things to come <3 

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ:

-       You didn’t very much like Draco in the beginning, but you didn’t wish ill on him. You didn’t talk about him or to him. You observed him on occasion, but like any other popular Hogwarts bloke, he was a constant that could be invisible one moment and entirely too present the next. You were a first year, him a second, so he always seemed bigger to you. Someone to be wary of.

-       He liked being in the spotlight. You caught onto that much. He liked attention, whether good or bad. Maybe it was a habit rubbed off on him from his father. Or maybe he was neglected the kind of loving, nurturing attention all children craved and sought any type of visibility, even if it hurt. You always wondered, but Draco Malfoy was an enigma, too; you would never find answers by observation alone.

-       As the years went by, Draco became more and more agitated, carrying a sullenness that couldn’t be easily fixed. He became the pretty boy, the Pureblood prince, the bully, the enemy. He was a Slytherin you watched with caution, because he was just as desperate for greatness as the likes of Tom Riddle.

-       You went from observing him on occasion to observing him always. Wishing you knew how you could fix someone broken, when all he wanted was to shatter.

-       You never met someone, or saw someone, or found someone as self-sabotaging as him. Even those bred into hateful, spiteful mindsets knew how to get to the finish line. Draco was clueless, running around aimlessly like someone who didn’t know anything about himself other than what trustees told him.

-       What trustees?

-       His family, like all old Wizarding World families, just saw him as a continuation of their line. You wondered how he didn’t see it, if he didn’t already feel it.

-       Cold affection, mistaken for a personality affinity.

-       You had your own affinity.

-       You felt sorry for Draco Malfoy. Sorry for a boy who would never accept your sympathy for he had enough of it for himself.

-       All throughout the years, you wanted to do all you could for him, but he wasn’t one to accept anything except for perfection. He would have pummeled into you with words he didn’t necessarily mean.

-       You just wanted to help him.

-       Your sixth year came, ruined by death, bloodshed, and animosity. You watched things crumble around you for a lot of people, and unlike your friends and peers as they cheered on the old family esteem going down the drain, you felt sorry.

-       They weren’t bad people necessarily. They were conditioned to be how they were.

-       You weren’t sure when you developed such strong feelings for Draco Malfoy. It seemed to have been gradual.

-       You decided your seventh year you would forget about him and forget about everything that happened and just live a life free of fear.

-       You were caught off guard, not expecting it, when Draco Malfoy was one of the few has-been seventh years coming to repeat his final stepping stone after a disastrous 1997 and 1998.

-       He was obviously much less popular, after the esteemed Pureblood families lost all creditability. All his Pureblood friends decided to go to work after He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was defeated, so he was alone, going from the bully to the victim.

-       Hassled by anyone on the right side of the war, telling him he deserved the Dementor’s Kiss, that he was just as bad as his father, that he was a horrible human being.

-       The fading Dark Mark on his arm was a 24-hour reminder that he was all those things they called him, that he wouldn’t ever be forgiven.

-       If he couldn’t forgive himself, how could anyone else?

-       Everyone hated me. All except…

-       On the first day of classes, no one wanted to sit beside him, near him, around him. Everyone had a vendetta against him, if it wasn’t obvious by the glares or the whispers. It was like being a troll among fairies, the villain in a story tale. No one liked him; everyone was afraid of him. Afraid that he was just the same as he’d always been: a violent bully unafraid to hurt innocent people.

-       But Draco had changed a lot in those months. No one noticed and no one cared.

-       Except…

-       You and Draco had quite a few of the same classes—perhaps because your career plans were similar—so coming into class and seeing him sitting alone with a sad, empty expression, you did what no one else was brave enough to do.

-       You sat down beside him, smiled at his surprise, and introduced yourself as Y/N L/N.

-       Draco, of course, wasn’t expecting someone so attractive or kind-looking to be stuck in the seat beside him. He shook your hand and gave you his name—like you didn’t already know it. It was the polite thing to do, however.

-       From that day, things were different between the two of you. You weren’t invisible to him anymore and he had hope that someone saw past his mistakes.

-       Through the glares and the whispers, it felt like there was light at the end of the tunnel. Things became easier to ignore.

-       Draco’s bullying days had ended, and in their place were the days of being the one bullied.

-       But this time, he had you.

-       Outside of class, Draco began relying on you. He began to cling to you like you were his support beam.

-       The two of you spent a lot of time together. You lost all your peers’ respect and your friends from befriending someone who was once a Pureblood supremacist.

-       You didn’t care because you saw past the Draco who was his father’s son. You saw the vulnerable, tentative Draco who had hopes and dreams like any other person, the boy struggling to overcome his prejudices, the caring and loving 18-year-old who just needed someone who didn’t define him by the things he regretted most. If someone loved him like he wanted to be love, perhaps he would do more than blossom; perhaps he’d bloom.

-       Draco did bloom.

-       He became someone you were honored to fall in love with. Someone who learned to know when he was in the wrong and when to apologize; someone who understood that his old beliefs weren’t right; someone who loved deeper than he or anyone else could fathom; someone who had passions and would get bright-eyed when he was showing them to someone who reciprocated those stars.

-       Draco liked to read. He liked cooking. He liked taking walks at night. He liked you.

-       You made him promise to teach you how to cook after you graduated.

-       It was a pinky promise.

-       It took months after graduating for him to muster up the courage to ask you out. You kissed him before you affirmed your “yes,” but he probably caught on from the enthusiasm with which you attacked him.

-       He did teach you how to cook. You showed him the Muggle way, and he was in awe about Muggle appliances.

-       You let him meet your family and they took to him better than you could have ever expected. He liked feeling like a part of your family, you could tell. He never got it from his actual family.

-       He was set in not letting you meet his.

-       The two of you got jobs at the Ministry in different departments and got to have lunch together every day.

-       You were the first one to say, “I love you.” And eventually you told him about how you watched him for years before you said, “Hello.”

-       He was the one who got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?”

-      You said, “Yes.”

-       You got the happily ever after ending that many Muggles dreamed about for naught, befit with a baby on the way and a husband you adored and would do anything for.

-       But your husband would always have his regrets. Sometimes he even cried at night, tears he would only ever let you see.

-       He wished that he hadn’t been so naive to think what his parents taught him was right. 

-        After years of self-loathing, Draco finally found it in himself to forgive his wrongs. If no one else would, he needed to.

-       No one could tell him who he was or who he was meant to be. Only he could. (But your opinion always mattered a lot to him).

-       Your guiding hands and loving eyes, your son’s babbling and his obvious happiness were all it took for forgiveness to become more than just a hopeless fabrication of the mind.

-       Fin.

[sleepylixie]

The Prince of Pearls 

Seawalker/Merman! Yang Jeongin

Word Count: 1.6k, Fantasy, Beware of suicide, mentions of depression I’m sorry you guys

A/N: THIS FIC DOES NOT REFLECT THE CHARACTER OR LIKENESS OF THE REAL YANG JEONGIN IN ANY FORM OR MANNER. ONTO THE FIC!! I love this for so particular reason, I really don’t know why, 

 ( @aliceu​ and @rebecca-noona​ welcome to the cult yet again. Today we’re serving Sex on the beach with a side of Fantasy Fries)

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

Every heard about a time when the lines between natural and supernatural were so blurred, they lived as one? Ever heard about a mortal loving the sea so much, he became one with it? Come, let me tell you the story of the Prince of Pearls.

The sea was an entity of dread to mortals, bringing fear in its unpredictability and terror of the unknown that lay within it. 

But for this village off the coast of what would become Busan, South Korea, the sea was nothing more than a god- given blessing for it brought them a bond other inlanders couldn’t even fathom-  

Merpeople. 

Not more than 80 years ago, the first Mermaid queen had reached out to the Busan chief, hoping to find themselves an agreement of mutual benefit. 

Despite strong disagreement, the chief agreed to the Queen’s behest, 

And it was evident, soon enough, that his decision had been for the best.

Her people were curious and benevolent, she claimed, if not slightly impish in nature- They were curious of their land counterparts and wished to observe them from as close of quarters as they’d allow-

They brought with them deep-sea treasures like the pearl and opal for the village to trade in return for their acceptance of her kind.

Busan thrived with their newly acquired trade of rare gems and medicinal weeds from the sea floor, and quickly warmed up to their newest neighbours. 

Soon enough, it was no oddity to see a band of children splashing and laughing at each other in the shallow waves with a trio of mer-children

It was commonplace to see the mothers sitting at the rocks at the edge of the beach, talking marketplace gossip with their underwater counterparts responding with their own equivalents. 

Busan grew well with the merpeople’s companionship, the village blossoming into a robust little trading town. 

\\

Yang Jeongin was the name of the current chief’s son, a young boy with a polite, if not a little shy disposition which was often mistaken for coldness. 

He wasn’t of the chief’s blood, for his wife was too weak to bear a child. He was picked up by his wife at an orphanage, being swept away by the baby with hair like ebony and a smile like nectar.

He wasn’t a child of many words, often choosing silence and smiles as much as he could.

That is, until he saw the ocean. 

The second the waves touched his toes, Jeongin seemed to evolve- no more was he the timid, reserved child his school friends knew him as.

He was a bright, vivacious little thing, unashamed in his loud laughter and witty in his responses, attracting every mer-child’s attention without a smidgen of hesitance. 

It was like he bloomed into his true self when he was in the ocean only to retreat into himself again on land, much to his parents’ exasperation.

“Your life is here, on land, Jeongin,” his mother would reprimand him every time he came back past midnight, tracking sand off his feet and pockets full of coral. “You give too much of yourself to the ocean.”

He would smile his shy smile again, complete with the shiny puppy eyes, and his mother would melt, yet again. 

And so grew Yang Jeongin, from a reserved child with an affinity for the ocean, to a young man with a love for it. 

He was never curious of his true parentage, for his adoptive parents had never made him feel less than their own son by blood- What was the need to look into history, when the present was as beautiful as this?

His hair was black as midnight, cut short so they hung slightly over his coral-brown eyes, brushing at high cheekbones. He stood tall and proud, like a chief’s son should, with swimmer’s shoulders and work-roughed palms. Despite his nature, he was loved by the village, an unconscious charmer who had eyes for nothing but the sea.

Jeongin had begun to spend as much time as he could in the underwater world, loving it all way too much to be able to stay away. 

He could stay underwater for long minutes, swim unnaturally fast with his human limbs, even understand the merpeople’s underwater tongue like it was his own.

There was no doubt, of course, that the merpeople loved the chief’s son. He was forthcoming with his questions, nimble with his trickery and brilliant with his words, all qualities that they treasured very greatly amongst their own people.

“Join the sea,” they’d mock him, laughing their bubbly laughs when Jeongin would frown for he knew he had responsibilities on land that he had no choice but to shoulder. “I wish, my friends.” He’d respond in their tongue, a wistful look in his eyes. 

But at least his underwater friends would always be there for him, no matter what-

but one day, they disappeared. 

One winter morning, Busan woke up to find the merpeople had retreated into the deep sea, far beyond measure.

Busan was lucky that their trading season was over and that they could tide away a few months without the precious cargo the merpeople used to bring for them

But what were they to do if they never returned?

The pressure of the decisions fell onto the chief’s family- who were facing an entirely different kind of dilemma altogether. 

Their son had fallen into a spiral of darkness after the merpeople left, retreating so deeply into himself that he was barely a shadow of his old self. 

It felt like something was missing inside Jeongin, even when he stood at the sea. It was a sickly, poisonous sensation that left him unable to even stand the sight of the ocean- a place he couldn’t stay away from not too long ago.

No amount of talking from his father or pleading from his mother could get him to leave his room- the windows closed, the bed turned away so he would not catch whiff or sight of the sea and it’s breeze.

The healer came up with nothing that could allude to his strange behavior; his body was entirely fine, she said. His mind, on the other hand....

If only they knew. 

If only they knew how he cried at the edge of the beach every night, where nobody would hear him, screaming and begging for the underwater race to come back, bring their ocean magic back with them

The water felt like a trap without their presence, a dark shroud falling over his senses that used to be open and clear even under water. 

Maybe that was why Jeongin gave up, one night. 

He couldn’t take the emptiness inside him anymore, he couldn’t take having to watch the very thing he loved so much tighten a noose around his head every time he so much as smelt it’s air 

So he gave himself to the sea, walking right into the water that felt so poisonous, allowing it to rise from his knees, to waist, chest, shoulders, nose, eyes....

and let go. 

It was a full moon that watched the boy with the midnight hair walk into the very water that gave him life, only to never come out again. 

//

When he felt water rush into his nose, Jeongin’s immediate reaction when he came around to consciousness was to panic and try to push his way to the surface until-

The water wasn’t constricting his lungs at all. The water didn’t feel suffocating, like it did for all those months before.

Right in front of him floated the same people who he’d cried for, all those nights when he felt hopeless and lost in the land. 

“I am sorry you had to live that way, young one.”

The oldest spoke, his merman tongue unfamiliar with his language. 

“Where am I,” he breathed out, finally allowing his eyes to rove over his surroundings- his extremely clear, unblurred vision. 

That was when he looked down at himself- and nearly blacked out in shock when he saw not two legs, but one tail. A strong streamlined tail with shimmering bronze dorsal fins, obsidian scales rippling throughout the length of it. 

“Welcome to Atlantis.”

//

He took to life underwater better than he could have ever imagined. 

Word went out about the newly arrived merman, formerly of human nature but unforgiving in his love for the sea, much like the rest of them. They accepted him graciously, offering him room and tutelage with his true-blooded peers.

He learnt about how merpeople were formed- first by divine intervention, then procreation and rarely, like in his case, when a mortal with a great love for the sea gave his life away to it. 

What Jeongin never understood, however, was why the merpeople that had resided in the waters next to his town decided to leave so suddenly.

When asked, he was told that the merpeople royal court had decided against further interaction with the humans with no explanation at all.

It was sad, he was told.The mer people loved the companionship of their land counterparts, and it pained them to leave the little town that had quenched their curiosities and accepted them without question.

He thought long and hard, over his tutelage, about what the relationship between the merpeople and his human ancestry could bring to the both of them- and then it struck him.

As a human child turned merperson, he could be the perfect conduit between both the worlds- a seawalker who could broker a peace with the landwalkers.

He threw himself into his studies with new vigour, for it felt like he had found a new purpose in life. 

Jeongin rose through the ranks with just the lure of his voice-

For it was easy to accept his words, especially when they were paired with his easy charm, simple smiles and fox-like cunning now veiled behind new sapphire-blue locks.

His new home wondered about him, 

“Is it true that he’s part siren??”

“His land family wasn’t his blood family, what’s to say he truly has our blood in him after all?

Atlantis took to calling him the Prince of Pearls, a fond nickname for the newest addition to their large family who had ideas bigger than them all, a heart filled with compassion and beliefs clad in iron and adamant.

Everybody knows about the seawalker from Atlantis, all midnight hair and trickster allure, the tale of a mortal from the wrong side of the sea now a voice of reason for everything he had learned to believe.

[felidaefighter]

If I Were To Choose

Ranboo and Tubbo talk, amidst the chaos.

[Angst with an ambiguous ending, implied prison break, implied staged disc finale, Ranboo POV]

     “Can you explain it to me?” Tubbo asks, and somehow the resigned tone in his voice causes a deeper ache in Ranboo’s chest than anger would have, than pain would have.

    “I can, if you want,” He replies quietly, and he doesn’t stutter-- that’s the worst part. There’s no hesitance to it. He still knows he’s in the right. Even now. Even with the pain it’s causing. Even though, at the end of all things, he’s chosen a side.

    “It started because I didn’t want there to be fighting,” He begins to explain, and Tubbo listens along, nods along. Understands it so far. Ranboo’s not sure if that’s what he wants, if that’s good. But it’s okay. “I could see the points everyone was making. When I agreed with two different people who were arguing against one another, I wasn’t lying. But nobody understood, when I explained it. So I had to-- or at least thought I had to-- start lying. And I guess…” No, that in and of itself was a lie, and he was done with those. If not for his own sake, for Tubbo’s. “No. I know. I started believing my own lies, until eventually, I forgot that I’d ever lied in the first place. And when words turned to actions and I couldn’t fathom the differences, it only got worse.”

    Tubbo is frowning in confusion. He’s smart, he’s so much smarter than everyone seems to think he is, he’s a beautiful boy with a beautiful mind and that’s the reason Ranboo fell in love with him, isn’t it, beyond his ability to sympathise. And Tubbo is trying to see the various sides again, like he’d mentioned before, and Ranboo wanted that so badly. Wanted Tubbo to see the different sides, like he’d said he used to be able to do, because that would mean that he and Tubbo were on the same page, and he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted Tubbo to understand and accept this. 

    “But how did that,” Tubbo asks, strained from confusion-- from emotion, too, but he’d never show it to anyone’s face, not unless he thought they wouldn’t remember that vulnerability (which Ranboo knew from experience, and he had kept that quiet, fine with that secret and lie because it meant Tubbo felt safe, felt there was somewhere he could express himself even if it meant he was “exploiting” a part of Ranboo’s issues. Ranboo had been fine with it, for all it had been “unhealthy”. It had been a trade-off. A lie for a lie.) “Turn into--” Tubbo gestures to the scene before them-- “This? Because it’s fine to understand both sides, I get that actually, I get it quite well-- but this? Ranboo, this?”

    Ranboo swallows thickly, unsure how to answer. He almost started his sentence with “I guess”, but he wouldn’t. He refused. He was done second-guessing himself, done lying. He knew how he got here. “It happened because there were too many sides,” He said instead-- simply, despite the turmoil inside his head. For how complex it all appeared, it was, at its core, simple. “Which meant there was too much fighting. And when you find a way to unite people, that you know will have them all on the same side for once in their miserable lives, you take that chance. You make the sacrifices you have to make to see it come to be.” He paused. “I-- I understand now that it didn’t work as intended. There were more sides than ever and-- it was never meant to go that far. So I had to intervene. Because people were getting hurt again.”

    And Ranboo actually sees it click in Tubbo’s mind, sees the moment where he puts the pieces together and finally sees the picture in its entirety, for better or for worse filled with the last Ranboo-shaped-piece slotting squarely in the center of the puzzle. “I see,” Tubbo says, and he does. Ranboo almost becomes giddy with hysteria. He does see. He gets it. His Tubbo gets it-- but not, Ranboo reminds himself, too hasty, far too hasty-- not necessarily agrees with it. Wait. Don’t assume. Just wait.

    “You thought you were doing the right thing,” Tubbo says, a summation provided as a way of double-checking he’d gotten it right. “You didn’t want anybody to get hurt, so you did what you thought you had to do in order to stop the hurt. You didn’t realize that it’d make things worse. And to be fair, I guess you had no way of knowing that. I mean, nobody can see the future.” Ranboo finds himself estatically nodding along. It’s true! It’s true! That was it exactly. 

    “Mhm! Exactly!” Ranboo agreed, “That’s it. I just didn’t want anybody getting hurt. And sides-- sides caused people to hurt.” He paused again, taking in the scene around him. “I realize now,” He said slowly, “That sometimes you have to choose a side to prevent more sides from forming. I’m sorry.” 

    Maybe Tubbo doesn’t actually agree. Maybe he’s just shellshocked. But he nods along anyway, and Ranboo can see that he’s accepted this part of Ranboo-- but maybe it means a rejection of Ranboo in his entirety. Maybe this is where Tubbo’s love for him ends. Maybe it dies with sides and Ranboo was right, or maybe it dies retroactively, somewhere between the first lie and the thousandth. Maybe it’s better this way. Or maybe there’s still hope. It’s hard to tell anymore. Ranboo is so tired of being hopeful. Ranboo is so tired of being hopeless. Maybe that’s why the prison is called Pandora. 

    “And… this is what you’re choosing?” Tubbo asks slowly, trying to gauge Ranboo like a stranger, trying to confirm with Ranboo like a lover who’s not sure if there’s still love left. So Ranboo will clarify for him. Clearcut and forever.

    “If I have to choose a side,” Ranboo says, “Yes. It’s this one.” He takes a deep breath, and luckily they know one another well enough by now that Tubbo can tell he’s not done speaking, and holds his emotions, holds his reaction. “But I hate choosing sides. I’ve always said to choose people. And if I had to choose a person, well…” He looks into his husband’s eyes, and it doesn’t hurt, because it’s Tubbo. Because it’s always been Tubbo. “Then I’d choose you.” Always. 

    Ranboo’s face burns around his eyes, but he ignores it, because there’s more to focus on. And that’s Tubbo’s own eyes, watery despite their strength, and Ranboo wants to reach across the distance and wipe them away even if it stings his hand. He waits now, for Tubbo to gather his thoughts and speak. Tubbo gives a laugh, sad and humorless. “You’re such a romantic,” He says, the way he used to, but without tone-- and Ranboo wishes it were true.

    “I don’t know what to do here,” Ranboo confesses, and Tubbo shakes his head. “Honestly? Neither do I.”

    “I’m a logical person,” Tubbo explains flatly, “I like to do things that are strategic, not based on emotion.” But there’s too much emotion in here to ignore. Too much. Far, far too much.

    “I like to think I’m the same,” Ranboo says, but he reaches his hand out, closes the distance just enough, and Tubbo takes it in his own.

    “You’re not, though. You’re just… an idealist.” Maybe, even under Ranboo’s lies and all his memory loss, Tubbo does still know him. Because that, at least, is true. That and his love for Tubbo. That, if nothing else.

    Hand in hand, Ranboo leads Tubbo away from the scene around them. Nothing is over; not even close to it. Nothing is changed. Nothing is fixed. To think that something so beautifully complicated could come from such simple things-- it forms a neverending waterwheel of time and chaos with everyone stuck knowing nothing but its flow. Ranboo’s goal had been to jam a stick in the wheel and stop its turning-- Tubbo’s had been to survive. But it was okay. Long, slender fingers wrap between small and calloused ones-- for now, there stays a single consistency amidst the chaos and surrounding terror.

[dramaticsnakes]

“Please don’t walk out of that door.” With, you guessed it, anxceit

Thank you so much for sending a prompt Raf! 

My mind couldn’t come up with a cool AU or something, like you’re so good at, right away with this one so it’s mostly based on canon, though Virgil and Janus are probably both a bit softer. I had fun with this and I hope it’s enjoyable!

Ship: Anxceit

Word count: 3486

TW: Cursing (this is me making up for not letting Virgil curse properly in my multichapter fic flkjaks). I am not sure if there is anything else I should tag. Please let me know if I missed something!

Summary: Janus and Virgil try to talk to each other with varying success.

Janus and Virgil were close. Very close in fact. Inseparable friends, in a way that was affectionate. Affectionate in an understood way. Neither were too keen on big speeches or meaningful declarations but it was clear to anyone from an outside perspective, that they mattered a great deal to one another. They communicated silently, with brief touches and knowledge no one else had. One always knew what the other wanted, and those silent displays, mattered a great deal to both of them, even if they didn’t always realize it. 

In the evening, Janus and Virgil would often sit together and talk to one another, while Remus was off doing his own thing. It was then, that the most prominent signs of affection crawled to the surface, and then that Janus felt the most content. Sometimes, Janus found himself staring into Virgil’s eyes. He wasn’t ever quite certain why. They seemed to glow in the dim lighting,in a way that reminded Janus of a storm. Of course, Janus quickly shook the thoughts off. It was strange to consider someone else's eyes like that. Just because Virgil could hold Janus comfortingly just by sending him a glance, Janus shouldn’t let himself get distracted by that. 

Janus remembered a day where he’d been on a rant about the government and society as a whole (it was an important topic) and Virgil had given him a gentle punch, which felt electrifying, like a lightning. Not the harmful kind, or at the very least not harmful in the same way. Virgil was electrifying in general. Janus realized it a long time ago, but he figured it didn’t earn him anything to say it out loud. Things were nice. Understood. Content. They all had each other, and Janus and Virgil were close. 

That was until things started changing. 

Janus didn’t mind change too much. He always considered himself adaptable. He was good at changing his shape. Good at pretending. Virgil was a different case. He wasn’t too keen on it, which was one of the reasons why it took so long for Janus to fathom everything that ended up happening. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did, Janus thought. If it happened differently, it would’ve been fine. Janus would’ve adapted just fine. Janus tried his best to believe that. He was good at telling lies, but wasn’t quite as good at believing them. 

Janus never liked to call things ‘inevitable’. They shouldn’t be. With the right words, things could be prevented. Nothing was inevitable if you let yourself have a say in it. Which might’ve been another reason it pained Janus to think about all the ways he could’ve prevented it.

When Virgil returned after being summoned for the first time, perhaps Janus should’ve asked more questions, rather than thinking of ways to take advantage of the situation. When Virgil came back and was having second-thoughts about various things, perhaps Janus shouldn’t have lashed out in jealousy right away. When Virgil had been punching the wall with anger, perhaps Janus should’ve asked him what was wrong, rather than accepting it. Rather than letting him.

When Virgil had walked straight to his room after being summoned, and when Virgil refused to talk to Janus, perhaps Janus should’ve done so anyway. Or perhaps he should’ve waited and taken the next chance he had.

But with each moment Virgil spent up there, the more strained the moments with Janus became.

And when Virgil left, perhaps Janus’ first reaction shouldn’t have been to observe. To keep an eye on Virgil and his new ‘friends’. His first reaction shouldn’t have been to lie his way up there.

But what choice did he have?

Soon, tension hung in the air whenever Janus and Virgil were around each other. Leftover promises and signs of conversations they hadn’t had. Insults were sent in every direction, and it became clearer and clearer to Janus, that they were no longer close. Virgil had found a different place to be, a new life, and Janus wasn’t a part of it.

And that made him angry, and bitter and all the things that caused people not to think properly. All those stupid emotions that made Janus’ heart burn up and twist inside him.

“Things are going to be different now.” Patton had said, when he was talking to Janus after the hectic events of that day. The day Janus was almost but not quite accepted. For a moment, Janus allowed himself to believe that Patton was right. Even if it didn’t feel quite true.

As he was standing outside the door to Virgil’s room a couple of days later, he wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

His interactions with Virgil had been brief and uncomfortable once Virgil learned what had happened. At first, Janus had seen something resembling anger on the other’s face. “You can’t be here.” he’d said, and Janus had simply looked down, resigned and unable to think of anything to say to that.

Later they’d been in the living room, by themselves, and neither of them had said a word to each other. 

What had prompted Janus to go to Virgil’s room however, was when their arms had brushed against each other in the halls, and Janus suddenly realized just how unbearable it was not to address it. He needed to talk to Virgil. He was desperate for them to say something to each other. Even if it was just yelling and insults, Janus needed Virgil to say something directed at him again. Just to know exactly how fragile their connection had gotten.

Janus knocked on the door, but didn’t receive a response. He tried again. Nothing. Eventually, he decided to check if the door was locked in the first place. It turned out it wasn’t. When he opened it the air became dense and all-encompassing, as if it had a tight grip around Janus’ heart and throat. The very moment he saw Virgil, sitting on his bed with his headphones on, Janus suddenly felt like the one who couldn’t speak. As if someone was holding his own hands to his mouth and pushing some invisible force down to his vocal cords. As he watched Virgil, sitting there, Janus suddenly understood exactly what Virgil’s famous ‘fight or flight’ reflexes felt like. Virgil hadn’t seen him, and for a desperate moment, Janus almost didn’t want him to. 

But Janus was a protector, not a coward. He recomposed himself, as he’d done so many times before. He attempted to put on a nonchalant express- no, he shouldn’t go for nonchalant should he? Virgil needed to see that Janus was there, and was ready for any genuine words Virgil might have for him. Any insults that Janus probably deserved. Janus wouldn’t deny that he’d done bad things in the past. Virgil had to know that. That was why they’d hardly spoken. That was why spite hung in the air whenever Janus showed up. Janus knew that.

“Virgil?” Janus said, but the voice came out choked and silent. It didn’t seem like a way to get Virgil’s attention as much as a desperate, wistful whisper, that wasn’t meant to be heard. Virgil didn’t react either. Maybe Janus should walk back out. He hadn’t been invited in. It was a bad idea. He didn’t want to disturb Virgil. He remembered when they were younger, and Virgil needed some time to himself in silence. It was why they’d gotten him the headphones in the first place.

Janus was about to close the door, when Virgil turned his head. Then time froze (figuratively, as Logan would’ve said). Virgil’s expression went from calm to surprised, then confused and uncertain. Janus’ heart started beating faster. Virgil removed the headphones from his ears quickly, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. “De- Janus.” he said, hastily. Janus realized that it was the first time Virgil had used Janus’ name for a long long time. The word felt like the sound of the vintage record in Janus’ room. Comforting and familiar, yet distant and a little worn. “What are you doing here?” 

Janus tried to detect the spite in Virgil’s voice, but instead found something resembling fear. Concern? Janus didn’t like questioning how he read people. Reading people was one of his most useful skills. Maybe it was some sort of wishful thinking, but that couldn’t be right either. Some part of Janus, wanted there to be spite and tension in the air. Though perhaps, a much bigger, different part of Janus longed for something more comfortable. Wanted to get closer to Virgil and sit on his bed with him, while they talked about all sorts of things. How society could be improved, a novel, or one of Virgil’s emo bands. Janus missed seeing Virgil’s eyes lighting up, and it only became clearer each time he was in the same room as him. “I… I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk about what?” Virgil said somewhat darkly. It made Janus want to take a step back again.

“Oh, because there has been absolutely no tension between us since I came here.” Janus said. The sarcastic tone came out before he could stop it, and he almost felt like covering his own mouth, like he’d done with many others. Keep himself calm, collected but genuine. Why did it feel so difficult and sickening to be genuine? Virgil’s mouth became a thin line and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I apologize… That came out wrong…” Janus added, “My silver tongue seems to have a mind of its own at times.” he said in an attempt to relieve the tension a little.

Virgil scoffed. “You could’ve knocked.”

“I did.” Janus said.

“Oh.” 

Virgil looked down and Janus followed his glance without realizing it. Say something say something say something… “I don’t mean to impose.” he said, feeling that the sentiment was a little too formal, but he wasn’t sure if putting it in any other way would be welcome either, “I just m- I’m just s-” Janus stopped himself, and caught Virgil giving him a glance as he did so. This wasn’t a good idea. Virgil wasn’t ready to talk about it. Virgil wanted him gone. It had been so clear from their previous interactions. The fact that Janus even considered that talking to him now of all times would be a good idea, especially when Virgil hadn’t even yelled at him or said anything yet, was stupid. Virgil wanted Janus to leave and Janus had overstayed his welcome the moment he opened the door.

“Janus…” Virgil said, and Janus flinched at the sound of his name, “What is it?”

“I…” Janus whispered. No, he definitely shouldn’t be here. Not yet. His gut twisted uncomfortably, and he felt like his heart was burning in more ways than one. He couldn’t speak like this. He barely knew what he wanted to explain. “I’ll go.” he said quickly, “I’ll leave you be. I shouldn’t have come.” he turned around abruptly. Virgil didn’t want him there, and no one could blame him. Janus hadn’t earned it y-

“Please don’t walk out of that door.” Janus heard Virgil’s voice say. It came out like a hiss, a yelp, but an uncharacteristically confident one. Desperate and self-assured all at the same time. When Janus turned his head again, he saw that Virgil was suddenly standing. Fists clenched, and eyes wide, as if he hadn’t quite realized what he’d said himself. “I mean, uh… fuck…” Virgil placed a hand on the side of his own face, with something resembling frustration. 

Janus turned around and looked at Virgil, not entirely sure what he should anticipate. 

Virgil fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. “Shit… You’re right, we uh… We should talk I…” he locked eyes with Janus and sent him a nervous smile of sorts, “Why don’t you uhm… Come over here?”

Janus saw Virgil nod towards his bed, and Janus could hear his own breathing loud and clear. Shaky and confused. Unfortunately vulnerable. No, that didn’t make sense. There was no way Virgil really wanted him to… “Are you certain?”

“Look, I’m not the liar here jus-” Virgil cut himself off, “Just uh… Just come on if you want to, I don’t bite.” he sat down on his bed.

“I beg to differ.” Janus half-whispered, with a wry smile.

“That was one time.” Virgil defended, and Janus caught a smile on the other’s face. It didn’t make the burning in his heart decrease at all, but it felt like the tension in the air settled a little. Janus hesitantly approached Virgil’s bed, feeling his body grow heavier with each step. Once Janus made it there, he sat down with his back straightened. He flattened the fabric on his clothes and placed his hands in his lap. Perhaps his quickly beating heart, was partially because of the effects Virgil’s room had on him. Janus stared at the far wall.

He felt Virgil glancing at him a few times, but other than that Virgil was sitting more or less in the same way. They sat there in silence for a few moments. Janus sighed. “I’m so-”

“I missed you.” Virgil interrupted hurriedly and it took Janus a second to realize exactly what he’d said. He gasped and tightened his muscles. There was a moment of silence after that. Virgil looked at Janus. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, uh… Was that weird? I’m sorry if that was-”

“What? No! I just didn’t expect you to… Well…”

“To miss you?”

“No, I mean…” Janus wasn’t sure what to say. He usually always had some way to get the conversation where he wanted it to, but he wasn’t entirely sure where he wanted it to go. He’d given Virgil the control the moment he’d stepped inside. The moment he’d decided to apologize. But Virgil wasn’t taking that control. Virgil had never quite been the type to do that. 

“I… Look I know I didn’t communicate properly. I should’ve said something all those times before I… I left…”

“What are you talking about?” Janus asked confusedly. Desperately.

“I missed you. You should’ve… We should’ve… Look, I get if you’re angry at me for all those times I snapped at you, but I just-” Virgil kept talking and Janus wasn’t sure if it was entirely directed at him anymore.

“It’s okay.” Janus said, with something resembling a chuckle. Not because the situation was that funny, but because he didn’t quite know what to make of it. “I was the one who came here to apologize.”

“Huh?”

“Apologize? For all those things I did.” Janus clarified, “I didn’t talk to you properly when you needed it. You know how I am with all those… Thoughtful and genuine moments, they… Frankly they make me sick, but I acted out in the worst possible ways when you left. I used you, I used your… Your friends-”

“We weren’t listening…” Virgil added, and that made Janus inhale sharply. 

“Maybe not, but I shouldn't have done that. None of you deserved that.” the words felt distantly true, “You have every right, to be mad at me Virgil. Sometimes my tongue gets the better of me… I say things before I can stop it, but that’s no excuse. I-” Janus stopped speaking when he felt Virgil’s shoulder brushing against his. It felt like electricity. An alluring and dangerous feeling.

When Virgil didn’t say something right away, Janus feared he’d said something wrong. That he’d been carried away in his thoughts and feelings and said something uncalled for. When Janus turned his head however, he noticed that Virgil was shaking a little. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Janus paused. “I… I know…”

“You’re supposed to say it back.” Virgil said.

“What?”

“Say it back! Say I’m an idiot.” Virgil said, looking at Janus with almost pleading eyes. Janus looked into them a second too long.

“But you’re… You’re not-”

“For fucks sake, you and I both know its the case. If I call you and idiot, you call me an idiot. That’s how it goes.” Virgil said.

Janus’ eyes flicked to Virgil’s lips but he looked away again he second he realized that was the case. “You’re an… You’re an idiot?”

Virgil gave a sigh of relief, that made Janus furrow his eyebrows. “Thank you.” he locked eyes with Janus again, and as Janus finally looked at Virgil’s jaw and eyes up close and looked at the soft-looking brown hair falling down into the other’s eyes, he found himself silenced once again. “You’re petty as hell, and so am I.”

Janus chuckled, and noticed Virgil’s breath hitching slightly as he did so. Then Virgil chuckled as well, and Janus suddenly realized that it was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in years. Ugh. Such disgusting sincerity. How did anyone deal with that? “I suppose you’re right.” Janus said. He didn’t add anything else. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, which was an unfortunate thing to admit.

“I was scared when you came here you know.” Virgil said. Janus looked down. “I was scared, because… I don’t want you to… I don’t want to…” Virgil groaned, “I was scared to death, because you’re an idiot and so am I and I am honestly so sick of our bullshit.”

“You’re being awfully blunt today.” was all Janus could think of saying.

Virgil shrugged and sent Janus a smile. “It’s probably the company.”

“Why are you smiling so much?” Janus snapped, which made Virgil tense up for a moment. Janus closed his eyes. “No, no it wasn’t meant to come out like that.” he took a deep breath. There was an anxious feeling creeping up on him, and the room was probably starting to get the best of him. What exactly was it Virgil was trying to do? “You’re just being nice all of a sudden…”

“I called you a fucking idiot.” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean! We called each other idiots all the time before-” 

Janus was cut off by his own hitching breath, when Virgil suddenly grasped Janus’ gloved hand. “I regret a lot of things.” Virgil said, quickly.

Janus could barely breathe. “So do I.”

“And we have a lot to talk about.” Virgil said.

“We do.” Janus said.

“But I really don’t like talking about things.” Virgil added.

Janus huffed, but didn’t say anything to that. They sat in silence for a while, still holding each other’s hand. When Janus’ heart skipped a beat, he suddenly found himself thinking, that now that Virgil had initiated touch, Janus wouldn’t be able to let go on his own accord again.

Virgil was the one who broke the silence. “They saw your hand… When you revealed your name.” 

Janus nodded. “Yes.”

“Can I see it?” Virgil asked. 

Janus swallowed something in his throat. “You already have.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Janus had revealed his hand as proof. Proof that sometimes, he could be trusted too. That he wasn’t on a different side than anyone else. He was on Thomas’ side. He was Thomas’ side. Perhaps now, the free hand could prove something too. Janus didn’t always like it when his hands were gloveless. The gloves kept him safe. Protected him. “Alright.” Janus said. Virgil gasped slightly at the response, as if he hadn’t entirely expected it. Janus took a deep breath and gradually removed the yellow glove from the hand he’d shown just a few days earlier. Virgil watched the act intently, and Janus felt slightly exposed. Even more so, when he could see his own skin. Virgil looked at the hand with a gaping mouth.

“It looks nice.” Virgil said, and if Janus didn’t know any better, he’d say Virgil was blushing.

Janus inhaled sharply. “Thank you.”

Janus almost couldn’t take it, when Virgil placed his hand on top of Janus’. It felt so natural. It wasn’t the first time the two had held hands, and Janus was overwhelmed with just how easy it was to do it again. “I was scared when you came here.” Virgil said, repeating the statement from earlier, “I was scared I wouldn’t be able to… uh… Fuck I lost track again.”

“Am I that distracting to you?” Janus said, jokingly.

Virgil took a deep breath and looked straight into Janus’ eyes, grasping Janus’ hand properly. Electrifying. Magnetic. Like a storm within Janus’ heart. “It’s stupid isn’t it?”

Janus tensed up, because Virgil’s response carried more meaning than the joke deserved. “Maybe so.” Janus said, “But as you said... We’re idiots.”

Virgil smiled. “We are.” he placed a hand under Janus’ eye, “We should get out of here before it gets worse. It took Janus a moment to remember the visible bags he probably had, after staying in the room for this long. He decided that he liked the sound of the ‘we’ Virgil spoke of.

“We should.”

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Boyfriend?

Author’s Note: 

Hello my friends! This is my first ever Loki x Reader oneshot, so I hope I didn’t do too poorly! This fic was beta-read by the wonderful @twentytwohearts​! 

If you end up liking this fic, let me know with a comment or reblog! I am taking requests for Loki as well as several other marvel characters, and if this fic inspires you, feel free to send one in!

Summary: Y/N and Loki have been getting closer for several weeks, but he’s still very ambivalent about their relationship status. Toss in a Stark party and an over eager fan and what will happen? 

IDEK y’all, I’m shit at summaries. Just…read it lol. 

“Mmmmm,” I hummed non-committedly as some older man in a suit more expensive than my entire life was worth continued rambling on next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in the ridiculous heels that Wanda had insisted I wear tonight, mentally groaning at the way they pinched my toes. I could already feel the blisters forming over the calloused soles of my aching feet.

 I was stuck at one of Tony’s famous parties, forced into a dress and heels by an overly zealous Sokovian, and hating every second. To add insult to my injury, I’d been caged into a conversation with one of the most boring, awkward men I’d ever met in my life. I couldn’t be sure exactly how long it’d been, but I did know it had been too long. I’d been subjected to literal torture, on multiple occasions, and even so I was sure this was worse. 

He seemed innocuous enough at first – albeit very awkward. He was thin and tall, with a slightly receding hairline and an air of a man that made more money than I could possibly fathom. As soon as I unintentionally made eye contact with him from across the crowded room, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He immediately made a beeline over to me with all the excitement and grace of an overexcited labrador puppy. He’d launched into conversation instantly, chatting eagerly about my abilities and past as if he had lived it himself. It was more than a bit creepy really how many details he knew about me and my life. 

At first, I was polite – smiling and nodding along with him as he animatedly spoke, all the while internally wishing to be literally anywhere else. I supplied as little as possible to our little chat, desperately hoping he would run out of steam and leave. But after what felt like hours, it was clear he wasn’t going to take the hint. I finally determined it’d been long enough, so I tried to gracefully leave the conversation. 

Unfortunately, all my attempts  fell on deaf ears. Though I was certain any sane person would’ve understood how uncomfortable I was based solely on body language, the eager man was evidently unaware of my obvious attempts to end our interaction, verbal or otherwise. He was either the most socially inept dude to have ever lived or the most persistent fan I’d ever encountered. Personally, I was beginning to think it was a bit of both, but regardless I was more than ready to leave politeness behind and tell him point-blank to fuck off. If it hadn’t been for Tony’s lecture beforehand about not doing exactly that, I probably would have done it already. 

Eyes scanning the room, I desperately looked for a way out of the encounter. After a few seconds my eyes fell upon Steve’s sympathetic gaze. 

Cap and I had known each other for a long time, and he knew as well as I did that if I didn’t find a socially acceptable way out soon that I’d resort to less than polite tactics to remove this dude from my side. He nodded once at me in understanding, before excusing himself from his own conversation and disappearing into the crowd. 

“So, I don’t know if I’d mentioned it or not yet, but you look really really good tonight,” the red-faced man standing next to me said loudly, pulling my attention away from Cap. Though internally I was screaming, I simply shot him a polite thin-lipped smile. 

“You did. Thank you once again,“ I replied shortly. He had, in fact, mentioned this multiple times tonight, and I was beginning to feel my patience run dangerously thin. He was evidently not fazed by my facial expression nor the irritated tone of my voice, and only smiled wider at my response. 

Fortunately for me, his next comment was cut off by the sudden presence of another body pressed to my back. At first I tensed, unsure of the contact, but felt myself relax as I recognized the familiar feel of leather armor-clad arms wrapping themselves securely around my waist. 

“I’ll never understand how you mortals can have spoken a language your entire lives and still not have an adequate grasp over its use,” Loki interrupted smoothly, breath fanning my ear as he spoke. I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing at the look on the poor man’s face as he realized who was standing behind me. 

” I– uhm. I’m sorry, what?“ the man stuttered out, confusion and fear overtaking his features. 

“Good. You said my dearest Y/N looked ‘really good’ tonight,” came Loki’s smooth reply. “Now, perhaps there is some kind of midgardian norm that I am unaware of, or maybe you have some sort of deficiency that’s affecting your eyesight? Nevertheless, I would feel remiss if I did not mention how many different adjectives there are to describe Y/N at this moment: radiant, elegant, sublime, exquisite, just to name a few among the many there are. Hundreds more I’d wager, but of all the words in the dictionary you chose ‘good’? Hm.”

The man’s face visibly paled as the Prince spoke, and I could feel the irritation and possessiveness seeping from his body with each word he spoke. His body tensed against my back and I could instantly tell that he was growing angry and impatient with the man before us.  My hands came to rest over the tops of his; I began gently rubbing soft circles into his flesh in an effort to soothe him. Though I secretly adored the praise and affirmation of his feelings, I’d promised Tony not to cause a scene, and I was certain that promise extended to Loki as well. I’d spent the better part of my evening desperately trying to be good, and I’d be damned if I was going to let all that effort go to waste simply because a certain dark-haired Asgardian couldn’t control his temper. Thankfully, I felt the tall god lean slightly into my touch, his tense form relaxing gradually.

“I’m so sorry…I had no — I didn’t know that he was your…that you were his…” the man floundered and I began to feel a twinge of pity for his clear distress. 

“Boyfriend?” I supplied with a small chuckle. The man nodded frantically, however his reaction was overshadowed by the Asgardian behind me. I felt Loki tense in response to my words, and I turned my head to see his beautiful face distorted into a grimace.

Of course. 

I’d been so thankful for his presence I’d clearly forgotten about his seeming discomfort with the label. Loki clearly despised the term, and never failed to make his feelings known.Though in the past months I’d grown exceptionally close to the god of mischief, he and I had never truly spoken about our 'relationship’. 

  Much to Loki’s discomfort, I often referred to him as my boyfriend. In turn he referred to me as “dear Y/N,” “my pet,” “love,” or something of the like. Though it didn’t bother me at first, I was beginning to feel very insecure at his seeming inability to label our relationship. Each time the word was brought up he always reacted just as he was now: visibly uncomfortable and dismayed. 

With every scowl, every look of disgust I felt a tiny pang in my heart that was only growing larger with each instance. Tonight was no exception, and I felt my face physically drop in response to his reaction. My palms began uncomfortably sweating, and I detangled myself from his arms as nonchalantly as possible. My thoughts were clouded with a haze of disappointment. The room began to feel too busy – the voices all seeming to scream directly into my ear and the air thick and suffocating. 

Suddenly feeling ill, I muttered an excuse and began to walk away from the two. No longer caring about how I was seen, I walked quickly through the crowd of people and out into the hallway. I braced myself against the wall as I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. My head was spinning with disjointed thoughts as I took deep breaths of the cool air. I pulled the God-forsaken heels from my feet roughly, desperate to give myself some degree of comfort as I slowly came back to reality. I leaned my head against the wall in exhaustion – my mind practically screaming taunts of embarrassment and shame. 

When Thor had first arrived unannounced to the tower with the trickster in tow, the team and I had been largely skeptical. However, in time Loki proved himself to have indeed been “rehabilitated,” and after a while Steve and Tony had allowed him to start going on missions with the team. Slowly but surely the two of us began to bond; at first it was over his fascination with my abilities and our mutual love of literature, but as the weeks went by I found myself developing feelings I didn’t quite understand for the lanky god. To my extreme surprise, I began to feel that my affections were reciprocated. The last few weeks had been wonderful– the two of us had fallen into a natural rhythm of spending time together, both on missions and otherwise.

Reflecting back on our time spent together, I felt the tiny pang of insecurity grow larger in my chest, filling me with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Clearly, Loki didn’t feel the same about our relationship as I did, if it could even be classified as such. And why should he? He was a Prince – a literal god – and I was just a lowly mortal. I was a fool. A pitiful, lovestruck girl that fell for someone who would never love her the same. It was depressing really. I chuckled humorlessly as I realized how sappy and teen-novelesque my situation had become. 

“Love?” his voice drifted into my ears, effectively pulling me out of my thoughts for the moment. I kept my head hung low and eyes trained on the floor. The knots in my stomach tightened their grip at the usually welcomed sound of his voice. My mind only raced faster as he approached me and my heart beat wildly out of control. 

I felt familiar, soft fingers hook their way under my chin as Loki gently lifted my face to meet his. His expression was one of irritation – likely lingering from the interaction with that insufferable businessman – but his green-blue eyes swam with a much gentler sort of feeling. Though he rarely showed true emotion on his face, his eyes were a different story. Impossibly deep and full of secrets, they always betrayed his true feelings. I’d become close enough to the lanky god in the past weeks that I was able to decipher those emotions with stunning accuracy. Currently, his eyes exuded feelings of concern and affection. 

“Are you alright?” he questioned gently. I exhaled lightly. 

“I’m fine.” I muttered, eyes turning downwards once more. Loki’s eyes sparkled with slight amusement as one of his brows quirked upwards. 

“So bold of you my dear, to attempt to withhold the truth from the god of lies,” he teased, lips curling into a lopsided smirk. 

All the feelings of embarrassment and shame abruptly shifted within me at the sight of his smug face. Internally, my overwhelming sadness was turning to anger and resentment quicker than I could control. 

“I’m not lying!“ I snapped, brows furrowing and body practically jumping away from his. His expression morphed from amused to concerned instantly, forehead crinkling in confusion. 

“Is this about that infuriating man back there?” he questioned, confusion and worry evident in his tone. “If so, please don’t trouble yourself any longer over the matter. I think I’ve made it perfectly cle–”

“He was sweet Loki,” I grumbled stubbornly, cutting him off. Although I had absolutely no desire to return to a conversation with him, the man was clearly well-intentioned. I’d actually forgotten all about him – but I couldn’t stand to hear Loki make some excuse for my poor mood.

He recoiled slightly at my display of irritation, surprised. I’d never interrupted him before and it was obvious he was even more perplexed than before with the unexpected outburst. Never one to show weakness, his face abruptly shifted to his typical expressionless mask. 

  “Sweet? You didn’t seem to think so whilst he was harassing you before, now did you?” he questioned cooly. “I know your face well enough by now, dearest Y/N, and your eyes were practically screaming for assistance.”

I scoffed, arms coming to rest petulantly across my chest. 

“Well if you know me as well as you claim, then by all means you should have no problem understanding why I’m upset,” I huffed, hoping he took the bait and simply asked why I was upset. Instead, I was infuriated as I watched a sly grin make its way across his handsome features. 

“But I thought you weren’t upset sweetling?” he grinned. He looked extremely proud of himself – clearly ecstatic to have coerced me into admitting that I’d lied, even though he’d known so since the start. 

Ordinarily I adored his intelligence – delighting in hearing the inner workings of his mind – but right now his display of wit combined with the smug expression he was sporting made my fists tingle with the urge to punch him straight in the face. I could feel my face burn red with anger at the sly remark and my eyes narrowed into near slits. 

“Oh, shut up Loki,” I snapped. “Clearly, we both know I’m pissed." 

"Then by all means, please enlighten me, because I evidently don’t understand,” he taunted. Though his words were laced with his trademarked contempt, I could see the twinge of concern still evident in his eyes. The small indication that he seemed to care about me caused all the feelings of sadness and insecurity to bubble back up to the surface. I sighed, taking a breath to steady myself before deciding to just dive right into what was sure to be an extremely awkward conversation.

“I don’t understand you! Or – I guess – I don’t understand us. What we are. I mean, are you ashamed of me because I’m not from Asgard or something? Or do you just not feel the same way I do? Oh god, I’ve completely misinterpreted everything haven’t I? I’m so stupid, I–” I babbled quickly, words slurring together with speed and face flushing. 

Loki’s soft hands came to rest on my arms, effectively cutting off my panicked ramblings. His facial expression was a strange mix of pity, fear, and confusion that I’d never seen before. I felt tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes and a burning sensation overwhelmed my sinuses. I cast my eyes downward once more, suddenly filled with self-pity and feeling extremely exposed. Loki was having none of that – his gentle fingers came to rest under my chin, pulling my face back up to meet his gaze once more. 

“Why in all the nine realms would you think I don’t feel the same?” he mused softly, brows dipping lower with concern and fingers gently caressing my face. “Have I not made my affections clear?”

“Well, you tell me, Loki. When we’re alone I think I know where we stand, but then there are incidents like tonight that make me think differently. I mean, you visibly cringe when I refer to you as my boyfriend…" I started, frown deepening at his visible recoil at the term. “See! Just like that, what is that? Do you not consider us together? Are we not, oh god, I dunno exclusive?”

Loki sighed, removing his hands from my face and rubbing his face tiredly. He looked like a parent exasperated with their child. Though I was pretty sure that wasn’t his intention, the small action reignited the spark of anger and resentment I’d felt before, and the overwhelming urge to punch him in his stupid handsome face returned abruptly. 

“You know what, whatever. I don’t care what you refer to me as anymore Loki. Better yet, just don’t refer to me at all,“ I spat, turning angrily on my heel and stomping away. 

I didn’t make it more than a few steps before I felt a hand on my bicep and I was twirled back around. Suddenly I was chest to chest with an extremely pissed off looking god. Never one to back down from confrontation, I glared definantly into his face. His eyes were almost eerie, a stormy mix of blue and green that reminded me of a sea just before a hurricane. His expression was nearly unreadable as his face searched mine – mouth set in a thin line and dark brows furrowed in anger. 

“You truly think so little of me and of yourself that you assume that I am embarrassed by you?” he practically seethed. “Darling, I could never and will never be embarrassed by your presence in my life. Do not mistake my reluctance to use trivial, midgardian terms as a reluctance to share my infatuation with you.”

My eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, silently urging him to continue since I clearly was not understanding what he was getting at. He exhaled loudly, hand leaving my arm to run through his inky locks in another show of exasperation. 

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, still hoping to prompt him into further explanation. His eyes seemed to soften marginally as they swept over my face. I was beginning to feel nearly uncomfortable under the god’s heavy gaze, but (as was usually the case) I also felt the all too familiar feelings of butterflies in my lower belly that only Loki’s attention seemed to stir. After an immeasurable length of time, he sighed once more, soft fingers parting from his sides to come to rest on my body. One of his hands reached down to latch onto the curve of my waist firmly. He pulled our chests flush with one another gently. The other fluttered delicately to the side of my face, thumb rubbing small circles into the soft flesh. My own palms came to rest across the smooth planes of his armor-clad chest – an action my body took without having to consult with my mind first. 

“Dearest, I think I should first apologize for the way my actions have made you feel,” he started gently, voice low in tone and volume and words practically dripping with affection and remorse as he looked down at me. “Never in all the time I’ve spent with you have I noticed any signs of your discomfort; if I had, we would’ve had this discussion much sooner.”

I swallowed thickly, unsure of where he was going with this. Though I wanted him to get on with it and just tell me how he felt, part of me wished I’d never brought the subject up to begin with. Feelings of indecision and doubt made their home in the pit of my stomach as I waited impatiently for him to continue. 

“As you know I often, shall we say, struggle to make sense of the customs and norms here,” he continued. “Though I’ve read vast amounts on the subject, I can’t seem to quite grasp the ‘normal’ way of life here – especially when it comes to your people’s courting traditions.”

I felt my wrinkled brows quirk upwards in surprise, not expecting the conversation to turn this way. My heart hammered so loudly in my chest with anticipation, I was sure he could hear it. If he could, he didn’t let it show. His gaze never wavered from my own – grey-blue eyes swimming with vulnerability as they surveyed my face. 

"As you’d probably expect, things are done much differently on Asgard. What you refer to as 'dating’ we call 'courting’, and the expectations and labels wildly differ. We call our partners  'Kærasti’ when speaking of them to others and 'elskan mín' when speaking with one another. Both of which translate loosely to 'my darling loved one’,” he explained softly. 

A short intake of breath nearly brought me out of the trance I’d felt like I’d been under the entire time Loki had been speaking. His gentle words and piercing gaze had been almost hypnotic; I’d spent the better part of the last few moments wholly enthralled by the smooth timbre of his voice, savoring the affection he radiated with each word. The words  'elskan mín' filtered its way through my ears into the fog that was . Though still foreign to my ears, I knew I’d heard the phrase before. 

“And, if I’m correct, the customary term for partners on this realm is 'boyfriend/girlfriend’?” he questioned gently. I nodded dumbly, still in too much of a daze to properly form words. “Ahh, and you see therein lies my problem. Why should I devalue my feelings for you with such a loose, meaningless term? I much prefer the ones used back home. Terms that are more…descriptive of the state of our partnership.”

I was still moderately struggling to process what was being said, my mind consumed mostly of observations on his voice and eyes. But as I struggled to decipher his words, a realization struck me like a bullet. I suddenly realized where I’d heard the term 'elskan mín' before. It was in another lovestruck trance, memories a million miles away from this dimly lit hallway that my ears had picked up the endearing phrase for the first time. 

Spoken in hushed murmurs by the very same god that was explaining the meaning to me now. 

Spoken to me.

A blush began to creep its way up my neck at the stark realization, mortification the likes of which I’d never experienced before crashing over me like a tsunami. Whether he truly was a mind reader (I hadn’t ever been truly convinced that he wasn’t) or if my reddened face and sheepish expression had alerted him to my obvious embarrassment, he seemed to understand immediately. The hand that had been softly caressing my hip gave me a small squeeze of encouragement. Even with the affectionate gesture, the urge to bury myself as deeply into the floor as possible was still raging in my chest. 

“Oh,” I squeaked. His eyes sparkled with amusement and his lip curled into his dazzling smirk. 

“I gather, based on your reaction tonight, that you made the incorrect assumption that I was – what – disgusted by the idea of a monogamous relationship?” he asked plainly, getting straight to the point. Once again I nodded silently, my mind still too overworked to speak.

My face was burning with embarrassment, and I buried my head into his chest in a vain effort to hide from his amused gaze. Loki chuckled – the vibrations reverberating through his body and tickling my face. I couldn’t see his expression from my position, but I could picture it perfectly in my mind. The skin around his eyes was very likely crinkled from the size of his smile and his eyes a bright, clear blue lit brightly with a sparkle of amusement. The mental image alone was enough to send happy butterflies swirling around in my stomach, despite the lingering embarrassment. His arms left my sides as he chuckled – one closed itself around my back, pulling me securely against his chest, and the other came to rest on the base of my neck. His long fingers gently entangled themselves in the hair at the base of my head. His cheek found its home on the crown of my head, and I could feel his smooth lips gently place a kiss there. I shivered lightly at the sensation, embarrassment fading a marginal amount at the comforting embrace. 

“Well, as thoroughly enjoyable as I find your sheepish state, I think we should clarify things,” he murmured softly against my hair. I hummed in agreement, waiting for him to start. 

“My love, I truly am sorry that I ever made you doubt the feelings I have for you,” he whispered, causing yet another blush to break out across my face. “But I hope it’s enough that I tell you now. I am so infatuated with you, my dear Y/N, I do not care to hide that fact from anyone. I would tell anyone the same – especially irritating men like the one you were chatting with tonight. The hesitation you perceived has absolutely nothing to do with my affections for you, nor does it indicate a desire to be free from labels. I simply loathe the overly simplified, descriptionless terms that are the norm on this planet. But if it makes you happy, I’m sure I can –”

“No!” I blurted, cutting his next statement off completely. My head rose from its place nestled in Loki’s strong chest and my hands balled into fists atop the thick armor covering his chest in an effort to gain his attention. My eyes searched his, and based on the surprise and confusion evident in his pale blue irises, I would wager that I looked at least a little crazy in this moment. It wasn’t like me to interrupt him while speaking and this was the second time in mere hours that I’d done so. My neck warmed marginally as I spoke up, the now familiar feelings of embarrassment rising within me once more as I looked upwards at the amused expression on Loki’s handsome face. I shoved the embarrassment back down, steadying myself with a deep breath before I spoke. 

“Sorry. I just – I don’t want you to change the way you act around me, at all,” I stammered, confidence deflating slightly as I realized I didn’t actually quite know what I wanted to say. He wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, eyes roaming across my reddened face in search of answers. “I mean, it’s okay with me, whatever you choose to refer to me as. As long as I’m the only one you refer to.”

His face broke out into the devilish smirk that made my knees go weak. I suddenly had slight trouble standing upright. Luckily for me, his strong arms were still wrapped around my frame, and he had no qualms about holding me tighter in his embrace. He pulled me closer to his body with one arm as his other snaked its way up to the side of my face. Loki’s thumb rubbed gently across my mouth as we gazed at each other, making my head go cloudy with memories of his smooth lips pressed against mine. He leaned down so close to my face that I could feel the warmth across my lips from each breath he took. The feelings of affection and anticipation curled themselves in my belly with such intensity that I almost missed his soft voice as he replied. 

“Are you sure elskan mín?” he whispered, tone teeming with an off-character level of uncertainty. Though his voice made him seem unsure his body reacted as it always did when we were alone.  His lips were so close to mine now that I could feel them brush teasingly against me with each tender word. I felt my brain short-circuit at the brief touch. Though there was still so much to be said, so much to discuss, I couldn’t handle the irritating distance between us for another second. So I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his lips down to mine in lieu of a response. My fingers traced aimless patterns across the smooth planes of his sharp jawline as our lips tangled in an all too familiar dance. 

Though we’d shared more than our fair share of kisses in the past months, this one felt different somehow. Each place his hands touched felt like they left a trail of fire in their wake and the way his lips moved against mine felt almost possessive. My entire being felt like it was floating on pure air as we kissed, and I felt extreme disappointment when I had to pull back to breathe. Evidently, Loki did not share my need for oxygen, and he continued to place small kisses across my face. Through my labored breathing and the love-filled haze that was clouding my thoughts I was still able to internally swoon at the sweet action. Typically, Loki was just as he appeared to be: calm, self-assured, and reluctant to express his affection, lest he become vulnerable. But it seemed that he wasn’t too concerned with showing his vulnerability at the moment, and the feeling of his soft lips roaming across the skin of my face and neck caused the butterflies in my belly to swarm with glee. 

Eventually he slowed his affectionate attack, and his forehead came to rest against mine. We stood like this for an immeasurable amount of time, eyes closed, neither of us speaking a word as the muffled sounds of the party filtered in from the hall. I smiled, elated as my eyes fluttered open and I drank in my favorite sight – Loki, at his most exposed. His eyes were still closed, breathing slightly ragged, a small but genuine smile gracing his thin lips, and the normally creamy skin of his cheeks blotchy with patches of pink. There was no greater feeling in this world than seeing him in such an utterly blissful state and knowing I was somehow lucky enough to have been the cause. 

“Yes.” I whispered gently, hesitant to break the peaceful cocoon that we’d encased ourselves in. Loki’s eyelids opened lazily, revealing the pale blue color that I’d come to dream about. 

“Yes?” he repeated questioningly. I giggled lightly at the look of slight confusion that painted the handsome god’s features. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” I explained patiently. A flash of understanding passed his face at the statement, and his face broke out into yet another knee-buckling smile. He leaned his head down towards mine – no doubt about to capture my lips in a sweet kiss. Though my body was screaming against the movement, I ducked my head backwards to avoid his kiss. His brows furrowed in confusion, the creases on his forehead deepening at the amused giggle that escaped me at the sight. 

“I am sure, but can you do me one favor?” I asked innocently. His face remained puzzled as he slowly nodded. His hands resumed their previous ministrations, smoothly running down the length of my body and back as we stood. 

“Can you not make a face like you’ve smelled something bad when someone uses the word boyfriend? Cause I don’t care how cute you are, I am never going to be cool with that,” I requested semi-jokingly. Loki merely blinked for a moment, a stunned look on his face as he took in my words. I felt a tingle of insecurity pass through my chest at his reaction, but waited patiently for a response nonetheless. 

After what felt like hours, the look of stunned confusion passed his features as his most genuine, face-splitting smile took over. He chuckled as he pulled me closer into his chest – the sound sending waves of relief through me as I snuggled readily into his embrace.

“Duly noted, my love.”

[nsheetee]

Without You

Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Best Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: you and jaehyun don’t realize that you’re each other soulmates until after you move apart for college, 325 kilometers apart from each other. realizing you’ll be happier together, you travel back to each other without the other knowing, surprisingly meeting one another in the middle.

Word Count: 1.7k

“to live and to endure; if we’re together, I’ll be happier. we’ll be endlessly connected, can’t live without you.”

you and jaehyun have never been apart

born on the same day, your mothers met while cooing at you through the glass wall of the hospital nursery, where you and jaehyun laid in your own beds next to each other

from that fateful moment onward, you and jaehyun have never left each other’s side

sharing everything from birthdays to bikes to secrets to historic moments in your life, you’ve been together through it all

the ups and downs

the heartbreaks and the victories

you could even tell how jaehyun was feeling, sometimes before he knew himself; you liked to call it your 6th sense

the security of jaehyun always at your side was so familiar to you that you couldn’t fathom the emptiness in your heart when he went away

you never thought he would be apart from you

until he called you over the phone, the happiness so evident in his voice that you understood why you felt like you were on top of the world just a few minutes ago

it’s jaehyun; something good happened

“y/n! I did it! I got into busan arts college!” 

it only took a second for you to digest the news and shriek in excitement for your best friend

it also only took a second for your heart to break as the reality set in

“y/n? what’s wrong?” jaehyun could sense the excitement bleed away from you, turning into something less wonderful

“nothing! it’s nothing... I’m really happy for you” and you are, but there’s one small fact that hovers over your happiness

“seriously, y/n? I can tell when you’re lying to me. tell me the truth, what’s wrong.” 

you don’t want to take away from his big accomplishment

jaehyun’s been wanting to go to this college since he knew what college was

but you drop the hammer on this glass dream you and jaehyun are the main characters of, smashing it into pieces with your next words

“I didn’t get into Busan... I got into Seoul.” it’s jaehyun’s turn to quiet down

the only noise present is the quiet static of the line between you two and the tapping of your fingers on your thigh as you wait for a reply

although the air is silent, everything between you two is loud with emotion

... confusion and fear for the future...

... questions on how you’ll continue to be friends from 325km apart...

but you both agreed that the distance wouldn’t be too much, that it would be okay to only see each other during holidays and longer breaks 

it’s not like you’d die if you didn’t spend every day next to each other

you tried to convince yourself that it’s a good thing to spend some time away from jaehyun, to spread out your roots and meet new people in a new chapter of your life

but that didn’t make saying goodbye to jaehyun at the train station any less difficult 

he has his leather case which holds his record player in one hand (he didn’t want to put it in the compartment with the rest of his luggage, too scared of it breaking during the train ride), and his other hand is tangled with yours 

you couldn’t look at him

you knew if you stared at him for too long you would end up clutching into him and begging him not to go 

“hey,” he laughs, trying to lighten the moment, “i’m not dying; don’t look so sad. we’ll see each other during summertime.” 

“but that’s months away.”

“you know you have a cell phone for a reason, right?”

“but it’s not the same.” you know you’re being stubborn, but you can’t help it

jaehyun’s hand leaves yours but reconnects with your cheek a second later, forcing your face to turn up to him

his thumb wipes away a tear that unknowingly fell down your cheek, grounding you to the earth with his touch 

“i know this is new and different for us, but remember what we promised? this is a good thing. some space between us is a good thing.” jaehyun’s voice coaxes you to nod your head

you take a deep breath in, accepting that this is what your future will be, and then letting it out, along with any sadness left in your gut

your hand comes up to jaehyun’s wrist and move it back down to his side, squeezing his hand once more before finally letting go

“if you don’t text me back, you’re dead to me.” you and jaehyun laugh halfheartedly at your last threat to him before he boards the train and finds his seat

it isn’t until the train is speeding several miles an hour down the railroad that jaehyun allows himself to revel in his emotions

your touch on his wrist still lingers, and jaehyun thinks about how he’ll only be able to see your smile through a screen for the next few months

with every kilometer that passes, a hole forms in his chest, something empty and dull creating a cavity where your presence usually was

he tries to shake it off, but it follows him all the way to Busan, into his dorm, and settles into his daily life

it weights him down, the only thing he can think about is you

when will you call next?

what class are you in right now?

did you eat today?

did you sleep well?

have you met your soulmate?

the last question irks something in jaehyun

he thinks it’s selfish of him to admit that he hopes you haven’t

he wants to keep you to himself for as long as he can, knowing a soulmate will take the attention you usually give to jaehyun 

but at the same time, he just wants you to be happy

which makes him think:

is being apart from one another really such a good thing if it means this hole in his chest will burn every minute you’re not at his side?

no

definitely not

he’s not happy, and he has to tell you that in person, no matter how selfish it seems

you, on the other hand, are doing better than you thought you would be

when you move into your new apartment, you meet some of your neighbors who are also going to the same college as you

you meet even more people in your classes, your nights filling with plans and dinners and all the fun anyone could ask for

but still, jaehyun’s memory permeates through it all, like a shadow over your mind

not in a bad way, but in a way that has you wanting to be next to him again

you try to shake off the feeling; jaehyun made it clear that he wants to spend time away from you

but you can’t help the gravity that pulls you to him

it’s not something you can turn off, it’s not something you can close your eyes and shut your ears to

so one night you pack a bag and buy a bus ticket to Busan

unbeknownst to you, that same night jaehyun buys a bus ticket to Seoul

with only the bare essentials in your bags and your hearts yearning to see each other, you cross the country as the steady hands of the clock tick further into the night and progress into the early morning

despite the weird angle your neck has been in for the past few hours and how sore your butt is from sitting down, you’re almost jittering as you walk off the bus during one of the mandatory stops

Daejeon looks so empty at this time of morning, the sun just barely hovering over the horizon, the moon still hanging by a thread on the opposite side of the sky 

you pull your jacket tighter around you as the cold air nips at your neck, only glancing up when you knock into someone

you’re about to apologize and keep walking, but you practically faint when you see jaehyun looking back at you

“what are you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?”

you laugh when you both ask the question at the same time

“I’m going to Busan...” you point back at the bus you just walked off of, “... to see you.”

“well I’m going to Seoul to see you.” 

it’s at this moment you realize jaehyun is your soulmate, and jaehyun realizes you’re his

blinded by years of friendship from the moment you were born, you never realized your soulmate tell was being able to tell how the other person is feeling

and you’re both feeling a lot in this moment

relief: from finally seeing each other 

full: the emptiness in your chests gone

love: knowing that your best friend has turned out to be your soulmate, and that you’ve already spent a lifetime together with so many more years to go

these feelings move from you to jaehyun and from jaehyun to you

it’s ironic how spending a few weeks apart has only made you and jaehyun grow closer

people move around you sleepily, but you continue to stare at each other in awe and slight disbelief 

until jaehyun makes the first move

he takes a small step forward, his cold hands reaching out to grasp the zippers of your jacket to pull you into him

“you know how I said it’ll be a good thing to give us some space?”

you nod at his words

“I lied. it’s been horrible not having you with me. I don’t know how we’ll work this out tomorrow, but today, I want you to know I don’t want to be away from you anymore. when I’m with you, I’m complete, I’m happier.”

you step forward this time, laying your hands over jaehyun’s, your feet bumping into his as you try to get as close as possible, leaning up to let your actions speak louder than your words

your noses brush when you kiss and your lips meld into each other’s in bliss

it’s a kiss unlike others, it’s a kiss of soulmates

and everything feels like lost puzzle pieces finding each other and falling into place

when you lean back, jaehyun tries to pull you in again, not wanting to let go of what he just gained

you hold onto his shoulders, not being able to stop the smile tugging your at your lips

“me too, jaehyun. I can’t live without you.”

[dashhoney25]

SB: seven

JERMAINE

“Don’t cry for me anymore baby girl, cry for yourself” I said to Natasha as she walked past me into the closet of our bedroom. This wasn’t what I expected to come home to, but my feelings towards her were right. Something hadn’t been quite right for awhile and I couldn’t put my finger on it, and she happened to reveal it all tonight. I took a seat on the couch at the foot of the bed. I kicked off my shoes, and watched her get dressed in the closet. Natasha threw on a matching nighty set and grabbed her silk robe. Coming out to place her towel in the bathroom, she stopped as she met my gaze on the couch.

“So it’s true huh? These marks on your neck.” I asked standing up before her. She shook her head, “Yes” she said taking a step back from me. I felt anger overtake my body and I rushed her into the wall with my hand around her neck with a slight grip. Natasha gulped heavily looking my eyes. “How the fuck? What the fuck were you thinking?” I yelled at her putting a slight shake to her neck. Natasha slightly gasped for air and I quickly let go, undermining my own strength. I was letting my anger get the best of me and I took a step back from her feeling myself getting a bit choked up. I took off my shirt and backed away from her completely. “I’m sorry” she managed to get out, holding her neck. “Sorry?! Bitch you lucky I don’t-“ Before I knew it the word just flew out, I couldn’t help myself in my wrath of anger. “Bitch?! You might wanna rethink that!” Natasha said with an attitude coming towards me. I walked into the closet to drop my shirt in the hamper when she followed me. “I don’t like you behind me like this in an enclosed space. Get from around me Natasha!” I barked. She snatched the shirt away from me before I could drop it in the hamper.

“Don’t you ever call me a bitch again!” She yelled. “Drop my fucking shirt in the hamper girl! If I touch you, I’ma hurt you!” I warned. “Hurt me?!” she questioned in disbelief staring at me. I furrowed my brow at her repulsive response, here I was coming home to comfort her, and she drops the bomb on me that she’s cheated on me. But now she expects me to talk to her when she’s disrespected our relationship. “Look, I’m not doing this shit tonight. I’m not fucking with you in an enclosed space!” I said leaving the closet. She followed behind me, I guess she noticed that I was pretty hot with her, I could feel the reddening on my face growing from anger. I couldn’t accept the news and I’ll be damned if I let her talk me down right now. I had so many questions, and another reason to just leave. Four years just wasted away over Natasha’s selfish indulgences once again. I was so disgusted to the point that all I wanted to do was hurt her. Jail didn’t scare me, but the consequences of tonight would jeopardize my future and cease the existence of my legacy if tempted. This woman brought out the best in me and dragged out my worst. I hadn’t felt pain like this since the first time with Malcom and for that I was ready to go to war over her.

Naïve isn’t the word I’d use for myself, but I wasn’t a stranger to her games. With her admission of guilt and betrayal, I wanted to know why simply because I have been nothing but good to her. There’s no excuse in the world or reason as to why anyone would want to tarnish something that I thought was everlasting. I can’t fathom why anyone in their right mind would be so self-centered and ignorant to something so good in front of them. I watched as she stood at the threshold of the door, staring at me as I breathed heavily trying to calm myself down. “Have you gotten tested?” I asked as calm as I could. Natasha sighed, “Not yet” she breathed. I sighed in disappointment, “I know you’ve been fucking us both. So why haven’t you taken some responsibility for your actions?!” I asked angrily. She shook her head like a child. “NATASHA! This isn’t about you anymore! My life is at stake! You’re playing with multiple people right now, and if there’s something that I need to know, you better find out quick!” I yelled.

Natasha jumped at my voice. “Jermaine, I’m going in the morning. Chill” “Chill?! You added another nigga to the party and you expect me to chill?! First my homeboy and now this?! Who is this cat anyway?!” I asked her. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore” she said walking away. “Sit your ass on this bed and talk to me!” I yelled. Natasha kissed her teeth, “You’re not gonna talk to me like I’m a fucking child Jermaine!” she said walking up on me. Out of reflex, I pushed her onto the bed quickly. Natasha crossed her arms immaturely and watched as I stood in front of her, waiting for her to talk. “Throwing me on the bed isn’t gonna make me talk” she spat. “But fucking around on me got you here. So who is he?” I asked. She shook her head and fanned me off. “So you wanna defend him and keep him a secret but you couldn’t defend us by keeping your legs closed?!” I questioned. “Would you stop being childish?!” she retorted. “And would you stop being a hoe?! You fuck my homie of 10 years and then you do this. Guess I need to stick around for the next nigga to take his turn huh?” I roared sarcastically. Defeated, Natasha rose from the bed, “So that’s how you really feel about me” she asked glossy eyed and heartbroken. “Nah, that’s how you really feel about me” I said touching her chest that was covered in hickeys. Staring in her eyes, I knew that my words cut deep and I went overboard. I couldn’t bring myself to apologize.

I was hurting and I had to bring her back down to my level. I couldn’t look at her the same anymore and for the first time, I wasn’t turned on by her… not even a little bit. Her true colors were showing and she appeared unapologetic by her responses. She wouldn’t tell me who he was, and she called me childish for my insults. But her actions alone were selfish and scandalous to say the least. I would’ve never imagined we’d turn out this way, not even after making up from her first incident. I just didn’t want to believe that she’d take us there and back again. “I wanted a life with you, a family… everything” I said lowly. “Go ahead, tell me I’m the worst. I’m undeserving of your presence. A true apology results in changed behavior, clearly I still don’t get it.” she spoke attempting to hold back her tears. Though she was right, it didn’t seem genuine to me. I didn’t think she really understood the fate of our relationship and the damage she caused.

Natasha left the room and disappeared down the hall. I closed the door behind her, now alone in my thoughts to soak all of this in.

NATASHA

Walking into the guest bedroom, I closed the door behind me angrily and leaned against the door. Sliding down against the door, tears flooded my face as I attempted to wipe my tears. I was so distraught at what was happening, and I knew that I made the situation worse by coming off unapologetic. I wanted King to know that I was sorry and that this was never my intention to bring him back to a place like this, but when he started calling me out of my name and disrespecting me; all bets were off. Yes, I disrespected our relationship, our sacred bond, but I didn’t deserve to be talked to like that.

The hardest part of this process is that I’m going to have to tell King the truth: how long this has been going on and with who. It’s not that I’m protecting Adonis for the hell of it, but it makes me look even worse knowing that I’ve been sleeping with a man who’s engaged to one of my close friends. I can’t bring myself to look worse than what I already do, knowing that I’ve ruined my own happy home. I picked myself off the floor and climbed into bed. I looked over at the nightstand and noticed the corners of a black book sticking out of the shelves. Curious, I pulled the book out of the shelf and realized it was an old photo album of King and I.

Opening the photo album my heart instantly dropped at the old photos. The album contained pictures of King and I when we first started dating and pictures of us from when we first purchased the land to get this house built from the ground up. I found myself pointing at old photos reminiscing on how young we looked and how I was so small back then. Old Christmas photos appeared, and I couldn’t help but smile looking at the pictures of the gifts we had given each other and how we loved decorating the house together. Time had flown for us and I couldn’t have been happier looking back on the good times we’ve shared together. As I continued to browse through old pictures, I couldn’t help but feel an eerie feeling; as if I knew something was coming. The feeling felt all too familiar once I reached a special part of the album. This particular page entailed a blue and pink background with a cute little egg on it. I felt my stomach drop as I turned the page.

Turning the page, I came across a picture of my positive pregnancy test, an ultrasound picture and picture of King holding a onesie. My vision became blurry through my tears as my hands trailed the page. Going through more pictures, now looking back, you could tell that I was pregnant. You could see the big smiles on King’s face and mine in further pictures. We were so excited about this pregnancy, especially after recovering from my infidelity with Malcolm. Babies don’t fix things, but this pregnancy enhanced our love for each other and our hope for the future. We were still in process of a name, and a few weeks short of learning the sex when we received unfortunate news of no heartbeat. I didn’t want to accept it and nor did I believe the ultrasound sonographer until a few days later my world came crashing down with unexpected bleeding. During that time, I was an emotional wreck. I questioned myself, my body, and my relationship with King. I sabotaged our relationship, and we lost our baby; I felt like things were all my fault, or maybe karma had caught up with us. Regardless of what I felt, King never left my side and he made sure that I’d never cry again over something that was out of our control. We were still hopeful for a family but felt that we should give it some time.

Closing the photo album, I placed it back on the shelf in the nightstand and felt myself getting emotional. Crying, because of all we had been through, I realized in that very moment that I truly fucked up. I had thrown away my life for good, just for a quick fuck. This man was about to walk down the aisle, and here I am sabotaging myself… for what? The more I thought about it, the guiltier I felt. I couldn’t stay in my thoughts any longer, nor could I be away from King. I climbed out of bed and proceeded to the master bedroom. The door was cracked, and the lights were low, I know King was still furious with me, but naturally I couldn’t stay away. Even if we didn’t speak to each other, I had to be in his presence. I’m hurting in more ways than most, and I want him to know that I’m truly sorry; and I can’t waste another minute not being in his sight.

Pushing the door open for me to walk in, a shirtless King pulled the covers back and stared back at me. Taking off my robe, exposing my nighty set I took a seat on the couch at the foot of the bed and placed the small pillow behind my back. Sighing, I placed my focus on the television. Within minutes the television went black. “I’m going to bed” King called out. I could hear rustling under the covers, and I knew he was kicking off his boxers to sleep naked like usual. I adjusted my hair into a high bun and proceeded to stretch out on the couch. “I’m really sorry King” I finally spoke.

I heard a click and then a flash of light appeared. I sat up to see King, he turned on the lamp on his side of the bed. We stared at one another a moment, I could feel myself getting turned on at the sight of him. Any other night I’d be buried under the covers lying next to him with my arms all over his big strong body with him deep inside me. But tonight, I’m surprised we’re speaking to each other. “Tash, you sleeping in here tonight?” King questioned. “Yeah…” I said nervously. “You know that couch isn’t comfortable” he added. “I know” I said looking down, I know I’ll be paying for this in the morning. King stared at me once more, he seemed to be contemplating something. “Well, good night” King replied before turning the lamp off.

@soufcakmistress @liilbougievert @honeyandpeaches  @goddessofthundathighs @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @thehomierobbstark  @mochaxmars @harleycativy @blackpinup22 @19jammmy @mbjfangirl  @killmonger-fics @browngirldominion @woahitslucyylu @loudcowboylawyertree  @bigchoose @uzumaki-rebellion  @nizzle-mo @luvwitoutlimit1 @honeytoffee  @queenflaws @callmemckenzieee​ @kkrown​  @madison2035 @illegalxbae @stokeleybabymama @cecereads209 @imanerdychubbyqueen @nyneebey @shaekingshitup​ @thickemadame​ @amorestevens @mymeira12universe-blog​

[helenas-reads]

Where The Crawdads Sing Review

Where The Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens 

I’ll admit, I don’t usually read contemporary fiction; fantasy is my niche. But this book is undeniably amazing and impactful no matter what genres you enjoy. 

It took me about three to four chapters to get into Owens’s writing style and form connections with the characters, but once I did, I latched onto Kya and her story. 

The beginning of Kya’s story forced me to acknowledge my own privilege, and how I genuinely couldn’t fathom how she survived everything she endured. Yet, at the same time, I was also inspired that Kya rose to the challenge and did survive, and I can only hope that I would have done the same. 

One thing I noticed was the immense hypocrisy in the novel. There are several esteemed white pastors and “productive” members of society, all whom are revered and admired. Yet the only people who helped Kya were Jumpin’ and Mabel, a middle-aged black couple who both endured so much unfairness and hate from the prejudiced whites. This theme struck me because in today’s world, there are so many people who claim to be inherently good, and act all holier than though, but yet, they are the ones perpetuating so much discord, and instilling hatred and evil in the world. And the ones who are good, who truly care for others, aren’t the ones doing it for social status or praise, but instead, out of the goodness of their hearts. We need more people like Jumpin’ and Mabel in our world.

As a young woman, Kya’s experience with men resonated with me. At times, I was cringing, wishing I could tell her Chase was no good, but yet, I realized I had been in her position before. Sometimes, you fail to see that something right in front of you isn’t good for you; other times, you just don’t care. 

Tate was the second-largest cause of internal conflict for me. I adored him in Part 1. I was so happy that Kya finally had someone who understood and accepted her, and who cared for her in the way she deserved. But when he left, and even more so, when he came back just to decide “he couldn’t do this anymore,” I hated him. He knew that Kya couldn’t handle being abandoned once more, after she already opened herself up to him. But he left anyways. Now, I understand why he did what he did: Kya would have been miserable in the busy world of society that Tate was living in at college. But he absolutely had no right to decide that for her, and to abandon her without warning. That was, in a sense, worse than her family leaving her. It just felt like the final nail on the coffin for me. However, I felt that Tate was Kya’s soulmate and vice versa. I think that everything that happened matured them both, and taught them things. While it wasn’t specifically about Tate, when she landed on the sandbar after mourning “a life defined by rejections,” she realized:

“As she pushed off, she knew no one would ever see this sandbar again. The elements had created a brief and shifting smile of sand, angles just so. The next time, the next current would design another sandbar, and another, but never this one. Not the one who caught her. The one who told her a thing or two.” (page 214)

I particularly love this quote because it talks about the randomness and uniqueness of every moment in the universe. While lots of things might be universal, there only is one you, and you’re the only one that experiences things the way you do. I feel as though that moment was a turning point for Kya, one of strength.

I don’t think Kya was every truly okay with being alone; there was always a part of her that seemed to long for acceptance and belonging. This makes sense, as humans are social creatures. But I do think she learned to live with it, and learned to find fulfillment in the best ways she could: nature, small conversations with Jumpin, reading, and poetry. 

The ending was a bit of a cliffhanger. I genuinely never considered that she could have been guilty at all, but in retrospect, she never denied it. It made my heart ache for her that she did such a thing and was able to compartmentalize it for so many years, and a part of it ached for Tate, that he never had considered she could have been guilty, but loved her and protected her all the same. And to be quite honest, I felt absolutely no sympathy for Chase. I don’t know if that makes me a bad person, but from someone who loves and feels for Kya, I honestly resent him for what he did to Kya and what he attempted to do. I don’t think he ever would have been satiated, honestly. And with the way Kya grew up, and who she is, I don’t know if she really had a strong sense of empathy or guilt. From a natural and survival perspective, she was protecting herself, in a sense. 

I loved this book. From the bottom of my heart, I loved this story and I loved Kya; this book will be one that has forever changed me. It’s taught me that as humans, we are stronger and more resilient than we think, and we are not so different from the rest of nature. It’s taught me that there’s beauty in loving, and giving yourself to another person, but there’s also always a risk. People leave, but sometimes people come back. It’s far too dark and hopeless to allow yourself to get swallowed up by the magnitude of accepting you’re alone in your experiences in this world, so it’s better to choose to be optimistic, to believe that you’re not alone. I believe the latter is true, of course. Whether it’s your blood family or your chosen family or the person you greet on the street every morning, humanity is made up of little connections that tie us to each other. You can’t do something to one person without harming another, and I think this novel shows us the interconnectedness of it all. I loved this novel because it was raw, honest, and inspiring. Kya’s story is one that everyone should read, and hopefully, one from which they can learn. 

[jalapeno-princess]

Foreign

Park Jinyoung X Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst (really bad smut I’m sorry I cannot write smut to save my life)

Word Count: 7.1K

Summary: Park Jinyoung is a foreign exchange student who just so happens to transfer to your high school. Unfortunately, he doesn’t speak too much English and this causes him to get bullied. In the beginning, he finds himself hating America and wants nothing more than to return back home to Korea. But then he meets you and it entirely changes his perspective. (I tried to base it on mean girls key word TRIED)

A/N: Hey guys, so this was requested and this is my first imagine that isn’t about Mark so I will admit, I had a pretty hard time not writing his name (I CAUGHT MYSELF SLIPPING SO MANY TIMES) and i’m sorry if this story sucks or if there are any errors I wrote this so fast y’all don’t understand ok bye (BTW I am in no way teasing Jinyoung in here when I write about him struggling to talk in English this is strictly FICTION ok I am completely aware that man can speak better English than I can and this is my native language

The first day of school was always so nerve wrecking. Especially when you were transferring to a completely different country you’ve never been to before in order to learn a language you barely spoke nor understood. This was Park Jinyoung’s dilemma. His parents wanted him to learn English in America. They felt he could receive a better education in America than he would in Korea. No matter how hard he tried to talk them out of sending him away, it was no use. Their minds were made up and he soon found himself on a plane to California.

He couldn’t help but wish he tried harder in convincing his parents to let him stay back home in Korea. Jinyoung had a hard time understanding why he couldn’t have just taken English classes at his current high school, but apparently those who can send their children abroad seemed more high class and Jinyoung was well aware of how obsessed his mother was over their social status. After 10 exhausting hours on the plane, he had finally arrived in California. It was a huge cultural shock for him. Americans dressed completely different than that of Koreans. He also took in how noisy his surroundings were and how polluted their air seemed so far and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and go on the next plane back to Korea. However, he decided he wouldn’t quit before actually getting to experience California and all it had to offer. 

The taxi ride to his dorm was long and the driver wouldn’t stop talking about something he didn’t understand. Why did Koreans feel like life in America was better? He couldn’t fathom in to words how much he already hated it and he hasn’t even been there for more than a couple of hours. When he arrived to the dormitory after paying the driver almost a whopping $50 for an hour ride, he made the trek upstairs and went on the hunt for his room. Once he opened the door, he was upset to see that someone was already vacating the room. At first, he thought he was at the wrong dorm. That was until a tall and very broad guy came out of the bathroom and nodded in his direction. 

“You must be Jinyoung. I’m Jaebum. Your roommate.” Hearing Jaebum speak in Korean took a weight off of Jinyoung’s shoulders. At least he had someone who reminded him of back home that wouldn’t make him feel like an outsider.

“Roommate?” Jinyoung wasn’t familiar with having a roommate. Being the only child, he always had his own things. His parents spoiled him rotten. He had his own room, his own car before he even got his license and he even owned a plot of land back home. But here in America, he was a nobody. Nobody would care that he was practically a prince in his parents eyes. Here in California, he’d be considered the freak who hardly speaks any English. 

“Yeah. This is the foreign exchange student’s dormitory. Everyone has a roommate. Don’t worry, I won’t bite. Unless I have to.” The older boy took a look at what Jinyoung was wearing and released a soft sigh. “Dude, Korean fashion isn’t going to cut it here. Get rid of the sweater vest and the khakis. You’re going to be ripped to shreds before you even make it to your first class.”

The two of them talked for a couple of hours, getting familiar with each other seeing as how they would be living together. Although he gave off very intimidating vibes, Jinyoung learned that Jaebum was the biggest softie. He was a huge cat lover. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to take his five cats with him when he was sent here by his parents. But he did get a job at the local pet store so he had an excuse to be around animals all day. Jaebum was also the biggest momma’s boy and he wanted to attend school abroad in order to get a good job and be able to provide a better lifestyle for his mom. Seeing all his tattoos and piercings made Jinyoung wonder what kind of people he surrounded himself with because an appearance like that would not be accepted back home. How long had he been in America for and what exactly made him want to go against their cultural values? 

As cool as Jaebum seemed so far, Jinyoung knew he wouldn’t want to stay in California for longer than he had to. Once he got settled in, he decided to call some of his friends back home to let them know how his first day went.

 Honestly, the first day hadn’t even started and yet he couldn’t wait for school to be over with. The next day, the two boys went off to school together. Jaebum offered to show Jinyoung around and helped him find his classes. He didn’t want to jinx himself, but with the way Jaebum was treating him as if they were long time friends, he found himself liking America so far. That was until Jaebum had gone his own way to head to class and left Jinyoung all alone. To his dismay, he didn’t have any classes with Jaebum; but Jaebum made sure to give his contact information to the younger boy just in case he needed it. 

“Text me around lunch time. You can sit with my friends and I. Try to stay out of trouble yeah? And don’t speak in English unless you really have to. I’ll see you later.” As he made his way to his locker, he noticed how people started moving away from the center of the hallway and he had yet to understand why. Once he put some of his books away and started making his way to class, it was then that he heard a couple of people gasp. He felt a bunch of eyes on him and it began to worry him. Were people aware that he was a foreign exchange student? Jaebum didn’t mention anything about Americans treating foreigners differently. So why was everyone looking at him as if he was an animal in the zoo? Before he could continue his thoughts, he was soon being shoved in to his locker and ended up on the ground. 

“Watch where you’re going dumbass.” As he looked up, he saw four girls walking past him as three of them and everyone else in the hallway began to laugh. However, his focus was quickly averted to you. You glared at your friends and gave him an apologetic look. As much as you wanted to go and see if he was okay, you knew what would happened if you did. Therefore, you continued to follow after your friends. He hated that he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying about him and he despised the fact that nobody did anything about what just happened. If this was only the first day, he didn’t want to imagine what the rest of the semester was going to be like. 

When lunchtime finally came around, he decided to get in contact with Jaebum and see where he was. Jinyoung was exhausted. His first three teachers made him introduce himself and he never felt more stupid. All he knew how to say was his name and where he was from. Then whenever the teachers would continue asking him more questions, he just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Finally when lunch time came around, Jaebum found him outside of his classroom and explained to him how ordering food from the cafeteria worked. 

“So, how’s your first day of school so far?” Jinyoung released a frustrated sigh and furrowed his brows. 

“I hate it here. How do you put up with all this bullshit? They literally treat me like I’m some wild animal. And the teachers act like I’m stupid for not speaking English. I wanna see any of these assholes go back to Korea without knowing any Korean and see how they do.” The older boy chuckled at Jinyoung’s grief and felt sorry for him. Things were easy for Jaebum seeing as how he was a little more familiar with the English language and how scary he portrayed himself out to be. 

When they walked in to the cafeteria, it seemed as if all eyes were on the two boys and it made Jinyoung uncomfortable. People began whispering amongst themselves and he could feel his blood boiling at the sight. Is this how all the foreign exchange students were treated? Or was there something wrong with him that everyone felt the need to target him for no reason?

“Ignore it. Things will get better. You have me, remember that. If anyone tries to fuck with you, they’ll regret it. Follow me. I’ll introduce you to my friends.” He led Jinyoung to his usual table and scowled at anyone who continued to stare at Jinyoung. From afar, your heart hurt for the poor boy. Your friends began spreading rumors about him right after what happened in the hallway. As much as you liked your friends, they could be a little much sometimes. 

“What a fucking nerd. I can’t believe Jaebum is actually hanging out with him. He must feel bad for the loser. I don’t know why foreigners feel the need to come to America, they obviously don’t fit in here. That boy won’t last a week here. He’ll probably be crying his ass off on the next plane back home.” You felt yourself getting more and more irritated the longer you listened to them talk about the new boy like that without even knowing him. Sometimes you wondered why you stuck around with them. They were always so negative, talked about people like they weren’t human beings with feelings. The only reason why you continued being friends with them was because you felt you would be all alone if you didn’t have them. And if you were to leave them completely, you knew you’d become the next target of their bullying. 

“Y/n..earth to y/n. Are you okay?” You broke out of your thoughts and nodded in agreement. 

Jinyoung was very grateful for Jaebum. He was sure he would’ve pulled out all of his hair if he did all of this on his own. Jaebum introduced Jinyoung to all of his friends. Mark, Youngjae and Bambam seemed like a nice group of guys and Jaebum informed the younger boy that they were all foreign exchange students and that they all went through bullying at some point of their American high school experience. He still found it unfair that there were people who took advantage of these poor students who came to America for more opportunities and a better education. 

Once lunch was over, Jinyoung made his way to the next class in which coincidentally he had with Mark and Youngjae. The two boys got him caught up with the do’s and don’ts of their high school and he was very glad there were people who cared about his well being. Thankfully, this teacher didn’t make Jinyoung speak in front of the entire class. Twenty minutes in to the lesson, you came running in to class and apologized to your teacher for your tardiness. When Jinyoung’s eyes landed on your tiny frame, he felt his breath hitch. When he saw you earlier in the hallway, even if it was only a quick glimpse of you, he thought you were extremely beautiful. Sure, he’s dated a few girls back home and he’s seen a lot of pretty girls before. But your beauty was indescribable and with the way you looked at him so apologetically, he knew he was done for.

“Whose that?” Jinyoung whispered to Mark and nodded in your direction. However, Mark was quick to shake his head and before Jinyoung could open his mouth and ask the question that was on his mind, Mark spoke up. 

“She’s off limits. Don’t even think about it.” Jinyoung shrugged and turned his focus back to the teacher, but he couldn’t get what Mark said off his mind. Off limits? What exactly did that mean? As you went to take your seat, Jinyoung couldn’t keep his eyes nor his mind off of you. He knew if Mark was telling him to stay away, you were bad news and maybe it was better that he did. Mark knew more than he did anyway. 

He went to his dorm later on that night and decided to ask Jaebum what Mark meant earlier when he said you were off limits. Jaebum just shrugged. “Apparently she’s fucking around with the captain of the football team. Jackson Wang or some shit like that. I honestly don’t give a fuck but he’s telling everyone they’re a thing. Plus, her group of friends are like the it girls of the school. I wouldn’t even think of trying to get close to her if I were you.” 

After a month of living and attending school in America, Jinyoung accepted the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere and was slowly adapting to life in California. Unfortunately when he was alone, he still found himself getting bullied by many of his classmates and even if he learned a few phrases and sentences, it still wasn’t enough for him to have a decent conversation with anyone. But when he was with his group of friends, nobody had the guts to bother him. Everyone was fully aware of what Jaebum was physically capable of if anyone dared to mess with Jinyoung in front of him. 

To both his dismay and delight, your teacher had assigned a month long project in which you were selected to be his partner. When Jinyoung found out the news, to say he was excited was an understatement. He was over the moon. Although he still had Mark’s words lingering in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the thought of working with you. However, his excitement was quick to change in to worry when he realized there would be a language barrier between the two of you. Once he saw you approaching him with that bright smile he found himself falling for over the past month, he felt himself returning the grin. 

“Hi. I’m y/n. It’s Jinyoung right? Do you have an idea of what you want the project to be about?” God, you were so beautiful. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Although he had no idea of what you were saying, he would listen to you talk for days on end if he could. He knew he was dozing off when you politely waved your hand in front of him to get his attention. 

“Sorry. I..I..English..no.” You nodded understandingly before taking out your phone and pulling up the translator app. You found his stuttering cute and the fact that he was trying his best to communicate with you using the small amount of English that he knew made your cheeks warm. The two of you passed your phone back and forth between each other until the bell rang and a part of you was sad that you had to leave him. In the hour that the two of you got to spend together, you learned quite a bit about him and you found yourself craving more; but you knew it was dangerous to feel that way. Your friends, for reasons you were still so unsure of still did not particularly care for him. You overheard one of them talking about purposefully tripping him out on the football field. You would also see people constantly push him around while he was making his way to class and the thought made you upset. Before he could get up and walk away, you pulled his arm in attempts to get his attention. 

“Let’s exchange numbers so it will be easier for us to get in touch with each other.” He nodded in agreement and although he seemed calm and collected on the outside, he was freaking out on the inside. In the first few weeks of working together, you tried to keep it a secret from your friends just in case they made a big deal out of it. The two of you would meet in the back of the library or sometimes in little coffee shops that you knew they’d never go to. You found yourself falling for your very handsome classmate and in the beginning, you tried your best not to for his sake, but you couldn’t stop your feelings for what they were. 

After a while, you came to accept them and it only became harder and harder for you the longer you’ve spent time with him. One night, the two of you were working on your project at the coffee shop when he got a phone call. He began talking in Korean and hearing him speak his native tongue made you smile. He spoke with so much confidence and radiated such positive energy, you couldn’t help but smile as he spoke. When he got off the phone, he looked at you curiously, confused as to why you were smiling. Not that he minded, your smile did wonders on Jinyoung’s heart. 

“Everything okay?” You nodded and went back to your work. However, an idea popped in to your mind and you wanted to see how Jinyoung would feel about it. 

“Hey Jinyoung?” He hummed in curiosity and you thought it was the cutest thing. “Would you maybe wanna..hmmm...Teach each other our native languages? I could teach you English and you could teach me Korean. That way it might be easier for you to interact with everyone and maybe if I were to speak Korean, I’d have a better way of understanding you?” 

The smile that rose on his face sent butterflies to your tummy. Park Jinyoung in more or less words was honestly going to be the death of you. If it wasn’t his charming good looks or gentle personality, it was his optimism. Even if he wasn’t put under the best circumstances, he wasn’t one to see the glass half empty. He nodded his head in agreement. 

Your weekly sessions turned in to daily sessions and on the days you weren’t able to meet up with each other, you’d text and call just so you could teach each other words and phrases here and there. When Jaebum found out about your friendship, he warned his younger friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you. If anything, Jaebum was completely aware of the fact that you weren’t anything like your friends. He never understood why you wasted your time with them when you could do so much better. But he didn’t have the right to ask you. However, he was looking out for Jinyoung and didn’t want you to end up hurting him if it came down to choosing between him and your group of friends. The more and more the two of you hung out, the deeper Jinyoung’s feelings grew for you. 

He found himself missing you on the days he didn’t get to see you and sometimes he would ask to meet up with you even if it had nothing to do with your lessons or your project. Not that you didn’t want it to, but word got out that the two of you were friends and began seeing each other on a daily basis. This upset quite a bit of people, especially your friends and a specific football captain Jaebum warned Jinyoung about just a few weeks prior to becoming friends with you. Jinyoung wasn’t surprised when he saw said captain approach him, but he didn’t think he would be shoved up against his locker by someone he didn’t even know. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? If you know what’s best for you, leave y/n alone. She’s mine.” Although Jackson tried his best in intimidating Jinyoung, he was all talk. And Jinyoung had barely any clue what Jackson was telling him anyway. But he didn’t care if people bullied him for being friends with you. Other than Jaebum, Mark, Youngjae and BamBam, you were the only other friend he had. And his favorite one at that. 

Out of the blue, Jinyoung started to avoid you. He kept coming up with excuses not to meet with you and when you would find him during school, he would ignore you. It hurt. Did you do or say something to upset him? You couldn’t remember insulting him in any way, so what exactly happened for him to be treating you so coldly? You left him countless texts, asking him what you did wrong, but to no avail. It was then that you over heard your friends talking about his little run in with Jackson and your heart hurt for him. Jinyoung was such a sweet guy, you didn’t understand how anyone could be so mean to him. 

You decided you would confront him in order to see why he was ignoring you. A part of you wanted to leave him alone, just so that people would stop being so mean to him. But deep down you knew whether or not you were to stay friends with him, they would continue to be so rude to him. His heart both sank and fluttered when he saw you approaching him. He hated being away from you, but he could no longer put up with the bullying that came with it. 

“Y/n-“ to both of your surprise, you pulled him in to your embrace and placed your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Jinyoung, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault that everyone is so mean to you. But please don’t give up on our friendship because of it. I’ll take care of you from now on. I promise.” He smiled down at you and pulled you closer to him. He loved the feeling of being intimate with you. Jinyoung could get used to being in your arms. 

From that day on, you became more than friends but less than lovers. There were lingering stares, gentle kisses and hand holding shared between the two of you. After what went down with him and Jackson that one day, you had explained to him Jackson was nothing but a friend. Every time one of your friends felt the need to attack him, you were quick to defend him. Now that he had Jaebum, his group of friends and now you, he wasn’t afraid of anything. You tried to help him with getting used to American culture, along with his English skills. And even though you found his fashion choices very cute, you knew it wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Therefore, you took him shopping for clothes that you felt would make him fit in. Seeing him in flannels and skinny jeans compared to what he normally would wear was so attractive. He even became better in English the more you two spent time together. 

For every English sentence he mastered, you’d reward him with a kiss. Little did you know, he’d tried really hard with studying English in order to get as many kisses from you as possible. It was December now and you couldn’t believe that four months have passed since Jinyoung came in to your life. He made you the happiest you’ve ever been and you refused to let anyone get in the way of that. Although they accepted the fact that Jinyoung was somebody important in your life, they would still try to change your mind from time to time. The more time you spent with Jinyoung and his friends, the less time you spent with yours. However, the four of you signed up for the school’s talent show. 

You’ve been practicing for months now and you weren’t too excited when you saw what they were planning on having you wear. Most of the contestants were either going to sing, dance or play an instrument. You weren’t surprised when you found out what your three other friends had planned. If you really listened to the lyrics, Santa baby wasn’t the most innocent song. So you knew you were in for one hell of a ride and wanted nothing more than for the performance to be over with. When the night of the winter fest finally came, to say you were nervous was an understatement. You were freaking out. The overly sexual routine mixed with the tiny outfit your friends prepared for you all to wear made you uncomfortable, but you had no choice. 

As the crowd began to fill up the auditorium, your heart rate increased. However, the sweet words of encouragement that Jinyoung sent your way made things easier. When it was finally your guys turn to perform, you forgot all about your worries and began to think about Jinyoung. You wanted nothing more to impress him and make him proud. A huge wave of confidence that you didn’t even know you were capable of surged through your body and soon, you began moving your body in ways you didn’t think were possible. Jinyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off of you from the moment you walked out on stage. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t have let you wear such a revealing item in front of anyone but himself. 

As much as he knew he had no right to feel that way because technically, you weren’t together, he couldn’t help it. You were extremely beautiful and he was sure you were stealing the show. By the way everyone seemed to be cheering you on, you were obviously the fan favorite and he completely understood why. Days before the show, you voiced to him your worries about how you didn’t think you’d do well. But seeing you dance so gracefully yet so tastefully sexy brought a warmth to both Jinyoung’s cheeks and the tent in his pants. He couldn’t wait for the performance to be over with. Once the show was done, you had texted him to let him know where you were. When his eyes landed on you, a grin rose on his face and he quickly ran towards you. 

You felt him before you saw him in more ways than one. As he covered your eyes and pulled your body against his chest, you could feel his hard on against your ass and the feeling sent warmth to your core. “Hey beautiful. That was..wow..you were..perfect.” 

You turned to face him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you. You um..I..someone’s excited.” You couldn’t see it, but a blush rose immediately on his handsome face. Of course he was turned on, that performance was so erotic. A part of him felt wrong for thinking such racy thoughts about you, especially because the two of you were unofficially official. It made things even harder for him because he wanted to make you his before having you completely. But who could blame him for getting so turned on? As much as he loved seeing that outfit on you, he couldn’t wait to rip it off. That’s if you allowed him to. 

“Yeah. You’re so fucking sexy y/n. Since you caused this problem, would you wanna help me solve it?” You were shocked to say the least at his very naughty words. The Park Jinyoung you met all those months ago could barely introduce himself. Now here he was insinuating that he wanted to fuck your brains out and you weren’t going to let the moment go to waste. 

“My place or yours?” He growled lowly in to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I made sure Jaebum was out of the room tonight for a reason. I can’t wait to taste you.” He reached for your hand and pulled you towards their dorm. You were about to offer to drive the two of you there so it would be quicker, but you knew you weren’t in the right mind to be driving. Your thoughts were clouded with him and what you were hoping would go down between the two of you in a couple of minutes. 

After what felt like hours, the two of you finally made it to his dorm room and he gave you no time to think before he threw you up against the wall, leaving wet kisses along your jaw. He roughly wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. His cool fingers ran up and down your back while he roughly kissed you. It all felt like too much. Your body felt as if it was on fire and the only way for it to be put out was to become one with him. He continued his ministrations and you decided he was going too slow for your liking. As much as you loved his kisses and loved how he was touching you, you craved more. 

“Jinyoung. Please.” Hearing you moan his name sent him in to a frenzy. In that moment, he was willing to do anything for you, be anything you wanted him to be. All he had on his mind was the thought of pleasuring you in any way possible. When you brought his fingers down to your soaking wet panties, he let out an exasperated groan and the sound went straight to your core. 

“Fuck. You’re soaking baby. What did I do to deserve you? God y/n, you don’t understand the effect you have on me.” You giggled against his neck and placed a quick kiss there before slowly removing your underwear. The sight of you practically naked was driving Jinyoung crazy and he was pretty sure he could cum just by seeing you completely bare. 

“Show me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He brought his index and middle fingers up to your slit and dragged it back and forth agonizingly slow and you could feel yourself on the verge of screaming. You started grinding yourself against his fingers, trying to create any sort of friction but when he realized what you were doing, he pulled his fingers away; earning himself a frustrated sigh from you. 

“Jinyoung, what the fuck?” He playfully pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth before taking off his shirt. You only ever saw him with clothes on, so you never really knew what he was hiding under his dress shirts and turtle necks. Seeing his washboard abs and his v-line made your mouth water. If girls knew how ripped he was, you were sure they’d be all over him. However, you were glad Jinyoung was your little secret because you were the only one who’d get to have him like this. 

No longer being able to stay away from you, he reattached his lips to yours and carried you over to his bed. He lifted your shirt off before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and when your breasts were freed from their restraints, you heard him whimper and you were pretty sure it was your new favorite sound. Hesitantly, he brought his hands up to your chest and you found it adorable that he was being so shy about touching you. With how rough he was being with you, you almost forgot how much of a gentleman he really was. 

“You’re so beautiful y/n. Such a pretty girl. These..so pretty. Mmmm.” He gently laid you down on his bed and immediately wrapped his mouth around one of your perky nipples while toying with the other side. He licked, pinched and nibbled on your breast, sending you to peak euphoria. Everytime you would hold hands with Jinyoung, or watch as he typed and wrote essays, you would always look at how long and skinny his fingers were. You would always think about how they would look like wrapped around your throat or buried deep in to your cunt. Seeing them pinching and twisting your swollen buds was such an indescribable feeling that you never wanted to end. You were so deep in to your thoughts that you failed to notice him pull his soft lips away from your breast as he made his way down to your pussy until you felt his warm breath against your clit. 

He kneaded your inner thighs with his thumbs and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your end. You needed him in any way possible. The feeling in your stomach was only getting tighter and tighter and you had a feeling he was going to make you beg. You were never one to beg for anything when it came to sex, but Jinyoung was going to make you work for it and you were willing to do anything at this point. 

“Jinyoung..please..do anything..your fingers, your tongue..I’ll take anything..please..OH FUCK..” as soon as you felt him drag his warm muscle along your slick wetness, your hands found purchase in his hair and lightly tugged on it. Multiple curse words, groans and moans left your pretty little throat and Jinyoung wanted nothing more than to replace his tongue with his throbbing and very painful cock. But he wanted to get you warmed up and ready before actually penetrating you. To add on to your indescribable delight, he brought his two fingers back in to your folds all the while licking up your juices. 

“J..Jinyoung..fuck..you’re so good to me..mmmmm...just like that baby..please don’t stop.” Hearing you moan for him was something he would never get used to. He didn’t know how to put it in to words, but he would eat you out all day if he could. You tasted amazing and he was upset with himself that he didn’t know how to voice his opinions to you. Jinyoung could only hope that the way he was eating your pussy like a man starved would show you just how much he loved doing so. And God, did Jinyoung love eating you out. 

As much as he wanted to continue licking you until his tongue became numb, the feeling of your glistening walls tightening around his fingers only made him want to feel his cock buried deep in to your cunt. He wanted to be deep inside of you. However, he wanted to bring you to your release before fixing his problem. 

That’s one of the many things you loved about Jinyoung. Love. There was that four letter word. The word that could either complicate things between the two of you or make things even better. You realized you were in love with him only a month after becoming friends with him. You fell in love with the way he always checked up on you, how he would stay up till the wee hours of the morning to study English on his own in order to impress you with his progress. You fell in love with the way he said your name and the way he looked at you as if you were the prettiest thing on this earth. Although the two of you were committing such a sinful and naughty act, your heart fluttered because of the way he looked at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes. You were going to make sure he knew of your feelings the minute the two of you were done with your love making session. 

With the way he was rapidly fingering you and nibbling on your clit, it was only a matter of time you felt yourself releasing your orgasm all over his tongue and Jinyoung licked up every ounce of it. He left a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. It was then that he decided in between your legs was his favorite place to be. Once you felt him begin to come up, you pulled him against you and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away and placed your foreheads together, giving himself a moment to breathe. You took this time to bring your hand down to his very hard bulge and you gently palmed him. When you saw him close his eyes and bite his lip, it made you want to tease him some more. You pulled him out of the confines of his boxers and the sight of his angry, red cock made you whimper. He was huge. You couldn’t wait for him to stretch out your walls. 

In order to rile him up, you ran your thumb along his dick. You glided your fingers against his slit, spreading his pre cum all around his erection and hearing him sigh sent fire to your bones. However, before you could continue, he ripped your hand away. As you were about to ask him if everything was okay, he all but gently pushed you down on to the bed and hovered over you. His left hand brushed away any hair that was out of place while he gripped his dick with his right hand and guided it to your opening. 

“Is this okay? Are you sure you want this? We can wait baby-“ you quickly shook your head in disagreement and your heart warmed at the thought of him being so considerate and gentle with you. 

“Fuck me, Park Jinyoung. Make me yours.” He slowly pushed himself inside of you and groaned at the feeling of how tight and wet you were. He hid his face in the crook of your neck while he tried his best in staying still. You know it was taking a lot for him not to start pounding in to you. Jinyoung wasn’t going to move unless you were to tell him to. You lifted his chin up from off of your shoulder and placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s okay Jinyoung. You can move.” Once he heard you give him the okay, he released a sigh of relief. He wanted to be a gentleman so badly. His main purpose was to take care of you. However, as much as he wanted to take his time with you and have slow, passionate sex, that was going to have to wait for another time. Whenever you had sex in the past, missionary was such a boring position. You were sure it only brought pleasure to the man. But with the way your hands were intertwined and how he placed your legs around his neck in order for him to go deeper, you knew he was trying to put your needs first. 

He left sloppy, wet kisses along your face all the while plummeting in to you like his life depended on it. The sound of skin on skin slapping echoed throughout the room and you were pretty sure the room wreaked of sex with the way the mirror was fogging up. Although you thought hearing him laugh was one of your favorite sounds, hearing him moan and whimper because of how good you were fucking him was your new favorite. 

“Y/n..you’re so..tight..you feel so fucking good. Fuck. You’re not real. You can’t be. I..I love you so much my pretty girl.” Hearing those words fall from his pretty, heart shaped lips made you tear up and he chuckled when he noticed. He was so busy admiring your beauty that he failed to notice he was slowing down and it wasn’t enough for you. 

“Faster..please Jinyoung. I need you to go faster..” He quickened his pace in order to please you and also went harder. The friction was such a euphoric feeling, you found yourself tightening around him. 

“Stop. Don’t do that.” You snickered before you felt him slap your ass cheek as payback for clenching around his cock. If anything, the sensation made you want to clench around Jinyoung some more in order for him to get rough with you. It was official, the quiet ones are the freaks. You squeezed his bicep to get his attention and an adorable pout grew on his face when you pulled away. However, it was quick to change once you said the next words. 

“I love you too.” He grinned widely at you and you were sure he was actually going to be the death of you. Hearing you tell him you loved him back was such an amazing feeling and he loved how those words sounded coming from your mouth. With every thrust, he whispered out his love for you and soon, the two of you were coming together. He shot his load in to your cunt as you came all over his dick. Once you both experienced your euphoric orgasms, he flopped on top of you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Jinyoung loved cockwarming. He wanted nothing more than to keep his cock buried deep in to your pretty pink cunt. 

Sex with you was such a mind blowing experience and he was already planning the next time in his mind. He placed his head against your chest and listened to the sound your heartbeat as the two of you tried your best to slow down your breaths. Did tonight really just happen? It was actually one of the best nights of his life and now that he had you, he was sure he would never get enough of you. 

“Y/n?” You hummed in curiosity and motioned for him to continue. 

“Say it again.” As much as you wanted to tease him and pretend that you had no idea what he was talking about, you were tired and you knew he was too. Teasing was just going to have to wait for another love making session. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You placed kisses across of his handsome face and playfully pinched his butt. If someone were to tell you months ago that you were going to fall in love with a foreign exchange student from Korea, you would’ve laughed in their face. But looking down at Jinyoung softly grazing the skin surrounding your belly button only made you realize just how much you loved him, how thankful you were to have him in your life and how you’d be nothing without him. 

Although he was thousands of miles away from his family in Korea, being in your embrace made him realize that he never felt closer to home than he did in that moment. You were all he knew and wanted to know. Sure, he hated how life in America was when he first moved almost a year ago. But you showed him so much love, warmth, support and happiness since he arrived and he couldn’t have been more thankful to his parents for making the decision to send him abroad. The two of you had yet to learn to communicate with each other completely, but love was a language you both could understand and he would continue to show you just how much he loves you for as long as time allows him to.