#i just don’t. even if i felt like i could use my senior thesis that i actively did not finish i feel so bad about that class that like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

espresseo-cafe · 1 year ago

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life is still beautiful | johnny | ch.4

genre: cappucino, romance, angst, university!au, dad!au, drama, slice of life

pairing: collegestudent!johnny x fem!reader

bean count: 5.6k

a/n: another weekly update on your coffee! got carried away with the word count 👀🤎 note: this is only a work of fiction, it doesn’t reflect the artists’ personalities in any way.

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“wow.”

your hand sheepishly scratched the back of your neck out of nervousness as yoohyeon complimented you, still feeling awkward about this. out of all people, yoohyeon had to pick you as one of her muses for her final project: your junior yeri, yoohyeon’s boyfriend minhyun, and sana from language studies, and four others from several departments whom you’ve only met at lunch earlier today.

“y’know, i might just as well perform your thesis.” you said as you turn from side to side to check one of the beautiful gowns she made, running your hand on the material that she used. she may be a workaholic, but she knew when to get things done. who would’ve known she would be able to design something so pleasing to the eyes.

the gown was a tube type; a bit loose yet flowy, boosting up your busts a little, and a slit down your left thigh. the colour would be a favourite: diamond silver with hints of very pale pink on the top and blue that the slid down to the bottom. lastly, intricate details of jewelry, lace, and flowers lined on it almost all over.

what made you awkward and uncomfortable to be wearing it was the fact that it was almost see through- so much that you felt like your body could be seen but not quite. it was confusing to explain it that you asked yeri to wear it instead at one point.

“bestie be careful with the deets! it’s my best work yet!” yoohyeon held your hand playfully but stopped when she saw your face pout. “hey y/n, what’s wrong?”

yeri and sana looked back to check on you as well. you looked up before making eye contact with yoohyeon, your eye twitched so evidently with nervousness that she knew she had to scram. you lifted your hands and pinched her cheeks, saying in gritted teeth. “i can’t go out in this tonight! i’m too exposed.”

yoohyeon squealed and yet let out a giggle, holding your slightly shaking wrists to stop you from squeezing her cheeks. “y/n, you look so, so beautiful. i wish you could see it because you are.” she turned to yeri and sana. “right, girls?”

sana hugged you from the back. “yes she is. you know even though i don’t stay here at the dorms anymore i know for a fact that you- y/n, have the best face without makeup. what much more if you actually wore some?”

you pulled a face so ugly that yeri messed up your hair, laughing. “yeah y/n.. except, just don’t do that.”

they swung you to the vanity and brought out a makeup palette and curler to get going. “i wonder just how many hearts will be swayed tonight.” yoohyeon grinned and you just held your breath hoping you could get through the night in one piece.

johnny stood by the backstage of the university outdoor hall, peeking out from the side to see people filling up the seats and bleachers. the lights slightly dimmed while the main focus was the walkway.

“three out of three.” he told himself. that was the number of times he was asked to model for the clothes his seniors made before they graduated. he was glad he didn’t have to do it this year, taeyong taking his place instead.

also he wouldn’t call it a blunder to model years before, but rather flattering because at least he had another image he could be besides being called a fathe-

his phone rang, disrupting his circle of thoughts. “yeah?”

“dude where are you?” jungwoo shouted from the other line, making johnny squeeze his face a little at the volume. “you’re needed by seulgi noona for the photography, she says you got the main camera.”

“yup i’ll be right there.” he said when he put his phone in his pocket, feeling a tiny tug from his jeans. “hey little buddy. sorry.. was i long?”

youngmin just patted his cheeks and smiled when johnny picked him up, who gave him blows of raspberries before meeting the others. he had to bring him along because his parents were back in america for his aunt’s birthday and no one was there to look after him.

“aww our little youngminnie bean is here for the night. auntie seulgi will be watching you while your dad goes for his rounds to take photos.” seulgi carried the almost two year old. “aw he really looks like you, john. same lips.”

johnny just laughed and his heart melted when youngmin’s lips started to quiver. “i’ll be back, okay? don’t give auntie here a hard time.”

“aren’t we going to have fun?” she patted the baby’s bum to stop him from crying, shaking the little toy rattle for him to play with while johnny took his leave. her attention swifted when she heard familiar voices of her juniors. “ah yoohyeon! how’s the preparations going?”

“superb, my last model finally didn’t chicken out.” she giggled, turning her head to youngmin. “is this.. ? johnny’s son? he’s grown so big now.”

“yeah he told me to keep an eye on him for a bit.” seulgi combed his hair back while she shortly carressed his cheeks, “so yeah, uh, your last model is y/n?”

yoohyeon nodded and it made her smile, “yes and she’s stunning.”

“great. she’s perfect for the design you whipped up.” her expression changed before looking around. “how is she though? she coping up well lately?”

“i can’t really say, she’ll open up when she’s ready.”

backstage, you stood beside sana and she noticed you were having the nervous jitters, she held your hand and squeezed them. “you’ll be fine. we’re queued to be the last ones out.”

“that is why i’m nervous, yoohyeon had to be the top student.” you faked cry and sana just poked your nose. “.. but thank you.”

outside at the seating area, kun, johnny, and mark lee sat together, the younger one writing notes for the article that the newspaper club would be featuring by the end of the month. johnny was the assigned photographer, former runway model. and kun being known as an all rounder, was in charge of the music being played but left it to the juniors so he was just sitting pretty.

“you think jungwoo would do good for his thesis? i’m kinda nervous on what he’d put out.” kun joked, making johnny laugh as he set the camera ready.

“trust me i think taeyong would save his ass from failing, i just don’t know how he managed to be at the dean’s list despite his grades, and retaking quizzes.” johnny said, taking some sample shots before turning to mark. “hey kid, mind if you swap places with me? i’ll be closer to the stage.” pointing to the camera he was holding.

“sure.” mark took his belongings, “wait- you’re johnny suh. the one with the ki-“ he paused when kun gestured the younger one stop the convo, knowing well that johnny didn’t want any attention for not being the one on the runway. “sorry.”

johnny raised his brow and smiled as he sat down, finding the younger one quite amusing. freshman, probably. his arm accidentally elbowed the person to his left, and muttered a ‘sorry’. his eyes met with the guy so familiar he wished he didn’t ask for a swap.

choi seungcheol just nodded, accepting his apology. johnny for sure didn’t want his mood to be ruined just by his batchmate’s presence, because in the first place, there was nothing going on between you and the guy. but johnny felt he was being challenged, and decided to just let the night pass and finish the work he was required to do.

the lights dimmed down, indicating the fashion show was about to start. he looked through the viewfinder taking snapshots of student models. jungwoo’s models and designs were showcased first, making yuta and johnny chuckle that they teased him for not having higher grades. the younger one rebutted that he only went first because people found out taeyong was modelling.

other works came out and being so indulged with fashion himself, johnny actually found the clothes on the runway quite boring though applauses were heard on each outfit shown said differently. well, it wasn’t up to his standards. the people who walked weren’t even walking right.

“when will something actually get your attention?” kun whispered to him, noticing him lowkey sighing quite a few times.

johnny just shrugged, not so sure himself.

“the final designs of the fashion show will be out in a bit! please welcome kim yoohyeon and her models!” the crowd cheered at the mention of her name, making sana, yeri, and yourself flick your heads at her. she only waved and gave you all a thumbs up.

you coughed and kind of panicked. you were the last one out but questioned why you were this nervous. you had these habits when you did so, not knowing until yoohyeon pointed them out. your neck slightly tilted, breathing short airs in and out, and your fingers crumble themselves into a fist. it was slow but enough to know you were entering anxiety.

however tonight was no exception for you to flop. yoohyeon had her reason to why she chose you for her final design. so you firmly decided to just suck it up and do your best because if anything, the last thing you want to do is to disappoint your best friend. she helped you so much during the darkest time of your life. and by golly, she still was.

with the thought of that, you were so proud of her nonetheless. she was one of the first people in your year to be graduating first since she skipped a year due to her talent. even flying to paris for an exchange programme.

yoohyeon cued for you to stand by, she gave you a smile that made you want to tear up. you smiled back and gave her flying kiss.

it was a minute interval, you had to wait for minhyun to come back and wait a little more before you go out. people were anticipating, knowing there should be eight models in total. and when you finally went out on the runway, johnny found himself mesmerised by you, almost forgetting to take a photo.

he wasn’t the only one in starstruck. he knew that the person to his left was also attentive to you, and in his peripheral vision, seungcheol’s mouth was left agape.

so johnny’s shaky brown orb found itself looking through the viewfinder once again. even though he wasn’t snapping a photo, he felt like he could see you clearer than anyone else in the room. and with that, he felt like he had an upperhand to the other guy.

you were a natural and he knew that might’ve been your first time modelling given the fact you were so nervous.

again he questioned himself just how could someone be so attractive. but, just like he noticed back at the dean’s camp last week, he noticed your eyes were tired despite being really stunning, beautiful.

the lights dimmed slowly and you almost slipped out a curse because it was something yoohyeon never told you about this segment of your walk. you looked around in relief that it wasn’t all dark. like something out of a fairytale, your gown started to light up from your chest downwards.

it was rare to see lights on the style of your dress, only seeing it on ball gowns and that made everyone gasp and clap louder. and because the gown was a pink and blue hue, the light made a combination of a very light lilac at the middle. the gems and sequins made it sparkle and that made you smile.

you felt like a princess and started to spin a little, even though it wasn’t required. but this was a chance that needed to be taken.

johnny smirked and took more photos, this was a first in the university, a gown lit up made by a graduate student.

“looks like we have a winning thesis.” mark wrote notes on his notepad, he elbowed his senior. “johnny sunbaenim, is okay for you to take good ones? we need a photo to feature for the university article, please.”

johnny let out a sniffle, “alright, order the sunbae to do things.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean-”

“since the hoobae said so, i will do it. he asked nicely.” mark hearing that made him feel at ease, one of the first people to not see him as a let down for being to be a writer/ author.

“y-yeah, thank you.”

once yoohyeon came out and walked one last time along with you and the others, confetti blasted from the ceiling, letting everyone know the show’s over. you walked backstage and had yourself changed, though makeup was still on, yoohyeon appeared and hugged you ever so tightly.

“sorry for not telling you about the surprise.” she cupped your cheek, “i know how the dark frightens you still but know that i’m always here for you. besides your whole concept is a reflection of our friendship.” her voice softened almost to a whisper. “you were with me in my darkest of times, like you’re the light.. ah i don’t want to tear up.”

you eyes welled a little, knowing that this thesis was something she would bring with her before she leaves for paris to continue her studies and internship next month. “likewise for me sis, you’re still looking out for me, and i’m still the same y/n.”

“don’t be, healing takes time. you know that. i’m older than you so i can tell you off whenever i want.” she hugged you and tried to change the topic by taking a lot of selfies and portraits before you both actually cry.

johnny was standing by the opened door and the curtain that was between you and him, not meaning to eavesdrop but he had to collect his backpack. healing? is she hurt? he shook his head and knocked.

“sorry, i need to collect a few things.” johnny pressed his lips to a small awkward smile, “hi, uh. you both did amazing tonight.”

“johnny! hi, long time no see.” yoohyeon gave him a side hug, “thank you-“ she looked at you and johnny’s flushed expressions. it was silent and something clicked in her that brough her into a smirk. something happened here, y/n, you obvious one.

your eyes looked elsewhere but to johnny, however that would be rude for you not to even talk to him. it had been a week since you both actually talked. “thanks, johnny. how are you?”

“busy with my classes among other things.” johnny scratched the back of his head. “listen, at the camp i forgot ask for your number. just wondering, when would be okay for you to hang out?”

yoohyeon nudged you because you weren’t answering, “y/n.. stop just staring at him. you’re making him wait.”

yeri stood by in front of this exchange, giggling as she took her items with her. “oh what is this? high school? you know there’s a carnival-”

jungwoo covered her mouth, not wanting her to ruin it for johnny, “anyway johnny hyung, we’ll see you back at the apartment!“

yoohyeon saw that as her way out knowing that she had forgotten plans after, “ah y/n, minhyun told me to meet him at the mall, i’ll see you at home, ok?”

you nodded at the commotion, the once noisy room became quiet in an instant. you smirked at johnny, “sorry i was in trance. um, anyway hi. so.. what’s this thing about a carnival?”

johnny laughed awkwardly, “y-yeah it’s the prize we won as champions at the dean’s listers camp last week. i got two tickets so i was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

“hm carnival, i haven’t been there for so long. when do you want to go?”

“last day’s tomorrow and i got no one to go with.”

this time you laughed awkwardly, “so i guess i have to say yes?”

“that’s pretty much the plan.”

you crossed your arms, curling your tongue in your mouth, “sneaky, smooth.. but it’s giving the last minute guy.”

johnny laughed, his eye dimples showing. what you said was unexpected. “maybe because i save the best for last?” referring to the fashion show tonight, referring to you.

your heart thumped, which was unneccessary at this point. but this is johnny, the guy who had your mind occupied for the past week. “okay, i’ll see you tomorrow before lunch at the train station?”

“sure thing.”

“great. i’ll take my leave then, it’s nice seeing you. i know we’ve been busy after the camp. have a good night, johnny.” you waved, and johnny hitched a breath at the sight of you.

ah her phone number.

“y/n!” he covered his mouth because of his accidental loud voice. “uh, can i have your phone number?”

“calm down big guy, afraid to lose me?” you teased him but your heart was still beating repeatedly, giving him your phone number then leaving to rest for the night.

johnny held his chest, his heart hadn’t felt this a long while. he felt like a little boy who finally had a play date that seulgi caught him smiling like an idiot.

“hey dorkface, you finally can use your carnival tickets. good on you, for bringing y/n.”

she handed him youngmin, who already fast asleep and stretched. johnny licked his lips, trying to bring up something about you that he had heard earlier. “seulgi, you know y/n, right?”

seulgi looked at him while she tidied up her own belongings. “yeah, we had the same minors last year. what about her?”

johnny hesitated to ask further but he couldn’t help but be curious. “is she okay? i noticed that she looks tired often behind all that smiley aura she usually shows.”

he didn’t receive an answer immediately, seulgi had to think about it. though she knew it was something serious just about vaguely, she wasn’t in any position to share anything. “i can’t really speak for her because it’s personal. i don’t know the full details but if you want to know you need to gain her trust. that’s all i can say.”

“alright, thank you.” he slung his backpack behind his shoulder as he carried the already sleeping youngmin, shaking him a little. “also for this.”

he for sure want to get to know you more.

—

seungcheol looked at his phone, lip biting at the group photo of the crimson commanders at the camp. his smile was evident when you and him stood next to each other, arms crossed while laughing at other players.

jeonghan rolled his eyes and nudged joshua to take a look at their friend, the latter one laughed while chewing and talking, “dude stop smiling like that, it’s creepy.”

“yeah dude, you’re such a simp for her lately.” jeonghan shook his head, “are you sure she’s the one you’ve been looking for all this time?”

“oh yeah definitely, she’s the one.” seungcheol sat up from his bed, stretching his arms before they become numb. “do you think she remembers?”

joshua raised his brow, “you mean that night?”

jeonghan’s eyes widened, “don’t tell me you’re gonna tell her what happened. i don’t think she even knows or remembers anything about you.”

“that’s why it wasn’t a coincidence that i ran into her at the dean’s camp. we were meant to meet again.” seungcheol clicked on his phone once more, “and she might be the one i was matched with here on love click.”

“desperate guy called for desperate measures. you really are a creep, cheol.” jeonghan threw a basketball at him. “isn’t that app under construction at the moment? whoever created that sucks.”

“you’re just jealous because you weren’t matched with anyone, and that you got friendzoned by sowon.” joshua teased him, earning him a glare from the blonde haired guy.

“guys, i’ll make her remember. she can’t escape from this. though i do have an obstacle.” he tossed the ball back to jeonghan, “you know that guy johnny? from psychology? or was it medicine?”

“the one with the baby?” jeonghan spun the ball on his finger, “yeah he was in my biology class in year one. dude sure knows how to multi-task.”

“what about johnny?” joshua continued to eat, but still listening to the conversation.

seungcheol’s brows furrowed a little, “i don’t like the vibe i get from him for some reason. feels like he’s just going to be using her.” his friends questioned him how he was so sure about it and he just shrugged, “heard the guy has anger issues though, can’t seem to control his fits.”

“and where did you hear that from?” jeonghan threw the ball to joshua, who at this point nearly dropped his bottle of water.

“minji noona. she’s my maternal cousin.”

—

the day was sunny and bright, but not too much that it made your skin burn from the heat. the clouds got your back from covering the sun rays from peeking. today was exceptionally something you looked forward to, yoohyeon joking that it would be your first date ever.

and you were so nevous, but..

.. you wouldn’t call it a date though..would you? because as you looked at yourself at the reflection from a nearby shop window, you were all dolled up.

a floral dress in white, paired with your favourite sneakers. your hair done in a half do, slightly styled, and just a very light make up. “this should be fine, right?”your phone rung to see johnny’s caller ID appearing on your screen. immediately answering. “hello?”

johnny could feel his cheeks heat up, your voice made him nervous for today. his first hangout with you. he felt like he was going out for the first time. “hi, y/n. i’ll be there soon, did you wait long?”

you stayed silent for a bit, he sounded really nice over the phone. deep and raspy. “um not really, i just arrived like two minutes ago.”

liar, you arrived half an hour ago.

johnny chuckled, sighing a relief. “phew, that’s good. i had to do other things so i was afraid i’ll miss our meetup time.” you heard a little shuffle, “i’m about to exit and headed for the landmark clock tower.”

“okay, see you.”

you looked at your shoes, lips pressing into a line. the guy you were matched with in loveclick only sent you a message or two in a week, just sending stickers. you thought maybe he just wasn’t interested at all. so you didn’t bother to message him back.

in all honesty, you were happy right now. someone asking you out in all the years you’ve even existed. even though you did say you’d change for the better, no one really ever went out of your way to ask you out.

so johnny being the first one to do so made it all special.

“y/n!” you heard him calling your name, seeing his figure approaching closer under the bright sun that you needed to place your hand to see clearly.

your slightly squinted eyes became relaxed when johnny was already in front of you, carrying a toddler whom you recognised. “hey y/n, sorry i had to bring this little guy with me. meet suh youngmin, a year and 11 months.”

he had a son.

“h-hi, guys.” you kept staring at the little boy.

johnny noticed your confusion and amazement at the situation. “was it a jumpscare that i brought a baby? hope it didn’t ruin our date.”

you shook your head, “no. no, i’m completely fine with it. hi there, youngmin.”

youngmin looked at you while he had his dummy on, suddenly shrieking into a smile and almost dropping his dummy that johnny caught it in time despite him carrying the toddler in one arm. “whoa hey, easy there bud. why are you hyper all of a sudden? you weren’t like this on the train.”

his little arms stretched out to you, wanting you to carry him instead. so you did, and the little babe wrapped his arms around your neck. “i guess you like me, huh?”

johnny chucked, “y-yeah, oddly. he rarely goes to anyone for the first time. usually it takes three or more meetings.”

you smiled and patted youngmin’s back. “well i’m honoured, youngmin. shall we go to the ticket kiosk?” you walked ahead because youngmin was already pointing at the balloons.

johnny shielded his eyes, the noontime sun rays glaring at him. once his vision was adjusted and he jogged up just behind you, he had to stop in his tracks when the scene in front of him was something familiar, all too familiar.

then he realised you were the silhouette he encountered ages ago at kahi’s son’s party. his heart beated like crazy once again, maybe that’s why youngmin knew you in an instant.

“johnny?” you called him when you gave the admission bands, “let’s go have lunch first.” you smiled and held youngmin’s hand, “i’m kinda hungry.”

johnny was brushed out of his deep thoughts, “yeah, let’s eat. youngmin likes lasagna. are you okay with it?” your eyes lit up and he honestly thought it was adorable.

“no way, i was craving for lasagna!” you jumped a little and youngmin let out a bubbly giggle. “we’re best friends now. aren’t we, youngmin?” youngmin just put his hands on your cheeks, speaking gibberish under his dummy.

the carnival was packed with a lot of people, slowly filling the place with unbridled joy and laughter. you didn’t remember how long it was since you last went here. probably when you were five? it was when everything was still in place, when everything was still peaceful. it felt warm to witness the busy movement, colourful scenery, and full of.. families.

your attention was broken by youngmin who handed you a cutlery. you let out a gasp that he held a knife.

“oh. give it to me.” you said firmly, “you’re not too big yet to handle big people things.”

johnny was impressed how you handled youngmin. you sounded firm but gentle, your tone not heavy nor scary. just alright for the kid’s liking. “you’re pretty good at this, y/n.”

you shortly looked at him then back to youngmin, giving him a kid spoon to play with instead. “really? i’m still struggling and nervous sometimes. but i get by. i take ECE, you know?”

“ahh,” johnny crossed his arms, “early childhood education? no wonder.”

“i must’ve forgot to mention. did i pass the vibe check?” you teased.

“oh yeah definitely, on youngmin’s book.” johnny chuckled, “he really likes you.”

“maybe because i already ran into this little bear.” you poked youngmin’s nose. “at kahi’s son’s party. i’m the godmother.”

bingo.

“that’s no coincidence.” johnny sat forward, his hands interlocking. “noah’s my godson as well, shame we didn’t run into each other after all this time.”

“shame you left youngmin all alone under the dessert table.” you remembered, giggling softly when johnny’s ware ears slowly turned red. “i wondered who the responsible father was.”

“my fault, teacher y/n.” he playfully raised his arms in defeat. “but not my fault that i was surrounded by a lot of mothers and other ladies’ attentions. say, why weren’t you part of the circle?”

you smirked, this guy.. “maybe because youngmin here caught my attention the most.”

“that i can’t compete with.” johnny smiled, “he’s irresistible.”

“exactly.” you pointed at him as your order was being called by the staff. “oh there goes our order, i’ll go pick it up.”

johnny watched your back when you went to get the food tray. his heart warmed up once again today. talking with you was easy, it was like conversing with an old friend. one of the reasons why he wanted to hang out with you wasn’t because his friends pushed him to. it wasn’t because he wanted to jump into a new relationship straight away.

it was because of youngmin. he needed a mother figure, a role that his ex-girlfriend couldn’t keep and maintain. it had been so long since youngmin had interacted with someone so closely who was like a mother.

not that he expected you to be one, but you were such a natural. and seeing how youngmin opened himself up so relaxed and early with you felt like an elephant was lifted off of his shoulders.

“do you like auntie y/n? you seem to like her a lot little one, and you just met her recently.” he patted youngmin’s head as he drank water and he couldn’t keep himself from blushing on what the young one said after.

“mama.”

johnny coughed, grabbing a piece of tissue just below his cutlery. earning startled yet amused looks from other customers, he bowed his head in apology in return.

“here’s our lasagna, sides. and drinks.” you said brightly, and the scene in front of you made your heart warm: johnny coughing and youngmin giggling on the side. “seemed like youngmin said a funny joke that made you cough on your water.”

“oh you bet he did.” johnny wiped his mouth clean.

you sat down, grinning as you passed their food to them, “care to share?”

as if on cue, youngmin was about to blurt out ‘mama’ when johnny covered his mouth with a dummy. “that’s classified.”

you feigned a gasp, “jokes aren’t secrets, youngmin. what has your dad been teaching you?”

“let’s just eat, okay?” johnny held his cutlery, trying to change subject when youngmin held his hands together. for a toddler, this one knew table manners? and it shocked you that it made you giggle.

johnny chuckled, “alright alright, we have to say grace. my mom’s been teaching him that.”

you nodded and went with the flow, finding this whole thing very wholesome, “okay.”

the day pretty much went by quickly, playing several games and riding kid friendly rides. you’ve been staring at one certain ride since the beginning but was too shy in asking johnny because he brought youngmin along.

but johnny was sharp, he knew what you wanted and decided to take the ride with you because you did help him with minding youngmin almost the whole day. so he stopped by the kiddie pool where parents leave their kids to the staff for a bit.

“you sure leaving him there will be fine?” you asked, holding your sling pouch as you and johnny walked to the queue.

“he’ll be fine. i know one of the lady staff.” johnny reassured you, fixing his hair.

yeri took a peek from behind the column, seeing you and johnny talking very casually. “we’ll be fine, won’t we, youngmin?”

“you really had to tag me along?” taeyong dragged himself next to her, with two kids hugging his legs and one called him a prince while at it.

“well i need a second witness. in case no one believes us that those two actually went for a date.” yeri’s eye smile never leaving, so excited that her ship was starting to sail.

“yeah and made youngmin as their chaperone.” taeyong shook his head. “poor little guy.”

johnny didn’t know how long he was staring at you until you turned around and asked him to hold your bottle of water as you tied your shoelaces. he wasn’t sure how to act when it was just you and him, but he certainly didn’t want this to be any more awkward than it already was.

as you finally stood up, you dusted your dress when the person in front almost bumped into you- they had been messing around for a while now. johnny being the observant one, was quick to avoid the clash from happening by placing himself in between.

so now you found yourself leaning on johnny’s stomach, one of his hands holding your back and the other holding your forearm, this seemed familiar. “watch it.” he said sternly to the person in front. he turned to you after, “you okay?”

you hummed “mhm” and nodded quickly in response but all in your mind was:

abs, abs, abs, abs, abs..

the picture from the dodgeball game at the dean’s camp came running back to you and you felt yourself heating up.

johnny’s eyes squinted and placed his palm on your forehead.

shoot my forehead’s sweaty.

“you sure? you’re heating up.”

“i’m fine!” you flicked your head back and fake laughed to hide your embarrassment. “i’m really okay.”

johnny pulled an ‘i don’t think so grin’ but just let you off the hook ‘cause you did look fine. “okay then, teacher y/n said so.”

you held your chest and sighed, you would’ve been busted if you weren’t careful. but johnny was so cool back there that you couldn’t help but smile.

dummy he’s not your boyfriend, you thought.

after the ride was done and went to pick up youngmin at the kiddie pool, you decided to call it a day as the sun was starting to set into orange. dusk was approaching and it was better for you guys to be home by evening. johnny agreed and walked with you towards the exit.

you patted youngmin’s back as johnny carried the tired toddler. you carried the boy’s bag and johnny felt embarrassed that he needed to rely on you a lot today. he was relaxed when you told him it was alright.

when he took another glimpse of you, you were staring elsewhere and he felt you slightly shake, hand holding on his shirt. your eyes trembled a bit in fear and johnny’s brows furrowed, wondering what got you all shaken up until you mumbled.

“m-mom… d-dad…?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @titanmaknae29 @joepomonerof @lovesuhng @studyingthemind @cheyehc @kyeomooniee @geysuuuuh

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thecirculararchive · 3 years ago

Text

Fuck it. I can’t stand this big thought tonight, and this started as a vent blog anyway. Discussions of triggers below, and my experiences as both a pro-endo and an anti-endo.

Endogenics, Mixed-Origin, Pro-Endos: you may read, and interact, but attempt to syscourse on this post and I will lose my goddamn mind.

So. I joined this community - and by that I mean the tumblr tags for DID, OSDD, and Plurality - around 2016 or 2017. This was soon after my system “came back.” See, I hadn’t known I was a system in high school, but I can tell looking back that That is what was wrong. And in college, I heard about DID. I struggled for weeks after that, researching it and understanding more and thinking “huh. That’s not normal?” And then, soon after, I became aware of ALL the alters all at once, and we began consciously switching, dissociating, the works.

When I joined tumblr back then, it was to find others like me. To understand what the fuck was happening to me. I reblogged memes, tried to laugh things off, and understood next to nothing that was happening. I still couldn’t believe I had trauma.

I used words incorrectly. We said we “integrated” when we didn’t - the best we can come up with now is “mass dormancy for a bit.” We didn’t understand endogenic or traumagenic or any of that.

All we knew was, when we said we had “created alters,” people got fucking pissed at us. Understandably - I was claiming to have Created My TRAUMA BASED System. By this time, I recognized that my overbearing childhood HAD been traumatic. I was the classic DID OSDD System But I Made My Headmates Guys.

I know I didn’t create those alters now - even though, to this day, it feels like I did. Because that’s not how this disorder is works. You don’t create alters with OSDDDID. But back then, I was being told my experiences weren’t real. I was being fakeclaimed, harassed, told I was just trolling and RPing, etc etc. to this day, that behavior has fucked with me, and I’m still so angry and mad at the people who did that to me - at the *anti-endos* who did that to me.

But I still grew, and changed. At that time, I was radically inclusive. I forget where along the line I started to change. I know alrer race was a big topic to tip me out of endo spaces. We have two alters who don’t match the body’s skin tone. They are not POC. And I felt like saying that would kick me out of my safe endo spaces. The people who DIDNT hate me. But I disagreed with that. I disagreed with the people who didn’t hate me.

It’s why I started listening to anti-endos more. I never felt like I fit in endo spaces. I always felt so lonely. While these people were ranting about how they were just as valid as me because they had alters too, I was forgetting to turn in my senior thesis because of my dissociation. I was working on 3 hours of sleep a night, trying to catch up on work I had missed because I needed to relearn it all again. I was crashing my car into someone else’s while going 30+ miles an hour because I was trying to switch with everyone else to stay awake - that’s the logic I had back then. I could have died. We, to this day, flinch in cars.

None of what I was going through was relatable - none of the bad stuff, anyways. I couldn’t speak to any of the endos about this. I couldn’t explain how badly I was hurting - because Anti Endos Are The Ones Who Are Sad. I felt like I wasn’t allowed to be doing poorly because of my system - I was just doing poorly because of stress. Because of life.

It’s hazy, now, when I started changing. But I know I started speaking my opinions out more. Speaking out against misinfo. It started small - mild corrections here and there. And… anti-endos agreed with me. And Endogenics didn’t.

I never agreed with you all in the first place. I just convinced myself I did. And to this day, that ideology has hurt me. Even now, I am seeing the harm what used to be MY community has done. I’m seeing the harm they wish on me - someone who still feels strongly they “created” their alters. Someone who doesn’t fit into “traumagenic” experiences as easily. Someone who, as anti-endos have admitted, is hard to explain!

But anti-endos… Endogenics… those aren’t the problem. It’s shitty people that are the problem.

I’m just choosing to stop surrounding myselves with shitty people.

#dissociative identity disorder #did #traumagenic #actually traumagenic #osdd #other specified dissociative disorder #plural #osddid #syscourse #endogenic neutral #mod Numb #Venting #Trauma

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Audio

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a call, Moments and Texts which have not been released in EN! 🍒

Highly recommened to read Summer Solstice Date first!

[ CALL ]

Shaw: Did I leave my “Oracle Script Calligraphy Form and Structure” book in Live House?

MC: Huh? Let me see...

Shaw: It should be on the red plastic chair. Check over that side.

MC: Found it. Do you need it now? I could ask a courier to send it to your school?

Shaw: No need. See if there’s a letter inside from someone with the surname “Wang”.

MC: The surname “Wang”... there isn’t.

Shaw: Hm, then I must have put it in another book. I’ll look for it myself later.

MC: Is the letter really important?

Shaw: A previous student of the Old Man wrote it to him. That elderly man has gone out of town to attend an academic discussion these few days, and asked me to keep it for him.

MC: Does this mean the sender is your senior?

Shaw: I guess she counts as a senior. After graduating, she headed to the undeveloped mountain region to bring education to them, and often corresponds with the Old Man through letters. The department was planning to keep her as a teacher, and the Old Man already wrote his recommendation in advance. But she said she was needed much more elsewhere.

MC: People who are willing to bring education to the mountain region are really incredible... I have a feeling that she's definitely an especially gentle and strong Big Sister!

Shaw: Gentle? The Old Man always calls her up to complain about me, then leaves her to lecture me. She always says the same things - “Teacher Shen thinks really highly of you, so don’t let him down.” Or “Don’t keep skipping literature classes just because you've memorised many books in the past.” Or “Don’t do your thesis half-heartedly. You have to go deeper into the research, and check it repeatedly...” Tch. She’s born to be a teacher.

MC: Pfft... looks like there are still people in your department who can manage you. Do you want to become a teacher in the future? You looked the part when you were a volunteer the last time.

Shaw: Nope. I’m not interested in transmitting wisdom, imparting knowledge, or resolving doubts.

MC: Really? But I found a postcard from an elementary student in your “Oracle Script Calligraphy Form and Structure” book. “Hello Big Brother Shaw, thanks for giving our class the “100 History Questions for Teens”. Let me share a piece of good news with you. I scored 90 marks in the mid-term exams...”

Shaw: Okay, that’s enough. Put the postcard back in its original position.

MC: Fine fine fine, I’ve already put it back... you felt really happy inside, didn’t you?

Shaw: Nope. I’ll have to end the call here. I have one more class. I’ll look for you once it’s done.

[ MOMENTS ]

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: Doesn’t that mean no one can hear you even if you shout yourself hoarse?

Shaw: ? You could try.

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: With a soundproofed room, there can also be a games room, movie room...

Shaw: We’ll start work tomorrow.

Shaw’s Post: Perfect soundproofing. Next time, I can practise at home.

MC: It’s just that the soundproofed room looks a little plain...

Shaw: My spray paint isn’t there for display.

[ TEXTS ]

[ First Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: ???

Shaw: ...

Shaw: Wrong person.

Shaw: ...why can’t I unsend it?

MC: Were you planning to send that to Professor Shen?

Shaw: Who else?

Shaw: Dragging me to the museum to be a conscript in the morning was enough. He still wanted to occupy my evening.

Shaw: Dream on.

MC: Why is Professor looking for you? Is it very urgent?

Shaw: Nothing much. He said that since it’s my birthday, he and his wife wanted to treat me to a meal.

Shaw: I’ve already declined.

Shaw: Okay, I’ve blocked everyone. Nobody can even think of disturbing the rest of the day.

[ Second Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: Did you send that the wrong person?

Shaw: ...

Shaw: Just pretend you didn’t see anything.

Shaw: No, delete it.

MC: Who is “she” referring to?

Shaw: Seems like you’re truly in high spirits.

Shaw: Hold up your phone and turn on the front camera.

Shaw: Look at who she is.

MC: The next time I look for you in school, I also want to meet your professors and seniors!

Shaw: Don’t come.

Shaw: Those guys in the department have wanted to pry into my private life since a long time ago.

Shaw: You aren’t allowed to provide them with materials.

[ Third Scenario ]

Shaw: I won’t be going today. Have to keep her company. I’ll have to trouble you to thank your wife on my behalf.

MC: Mm, it’s okay~

Shaw: ?

Shaw: What does this have to do with you?

Shaw: It wasn’t even meant for you.

MC: It’s so rare to see you talking so politely...

Shaw: Have you heard of “青白眼”?

[Note] I can’t find an equivalent English term for this, but it loosely translates to “direct gazes and the rolling of eyes”. The idea being conveyed is that you typically look at someone directly when your respect them, and roll your eyes if you don’t

Shaw: Different attitudes should be used when dealing with different people.

Shaw: I’ll only be polite to those who deserve my politeness.

MC: You should be a little more polite to me next time. Why do you always use imperative sentences with me...

Shaw: You sure?

Shaw: In that case, may I trouble MC to move her respectable feet, open the door gently, and allow me entrance into the residence.

Shaw: Much appreciated.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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marktuansvevo · 4 years ago

Text

got7: valentines day dates!

warning(s); a little bit of suggestive content in youngjae and bam’s parts, cursing

happy valentines, babes!! ♡

mark;

mark showers you with fancy gifts, no matter how hard you protest. “you don’t have to so much money on me,” you would say through the bathroom door as you slipped into the pretty baby pink floor length gown you had just unwrapped. “you know just spending time with you is the only thing i ever want.”

mark hummed at the sentiment, not looking up from his phone. “i would have whisked you away to taiwan if there wasn’t a goddamned pandemic.”

when you walked out of the bathroom, he instantly brightened, motioning for you to turn around so he could see how well the dress fit. “you always look so pretty,” he said, giggling. “can you wear that to dinner? i love how you look in it.”

now it was your turn to coo. “mark, valentine’s is cheesy. we don’t have to go out, i can order us takeout.”

“stop avoiding all the attention. why can’t i properly show the world how much i love you?” mark raised his eyebrow at you. “you deserve to be spoiled. period!”

“you can show the world how much you love me publicly,” you got on your tiptoes to kiss right below his ear, nipping a little. you smiled at the small giggle he let out. “but just know, i’m showing you how much i love you privately tonight.”

you expected him to blush, mark always got flustered when you talked to him about the bedroom. instead, he smirked at you, biting his lip. “good, because i bought you lingerie for tonight, too. you can be my pretty model.”

now you were the one blushing.

jaebeom;

different from mark, jaebeom keeps the valentines festivities private. he knows that you had a big presentation to pitch in front of the higher ups at your company, so he knew you were stressed. he wanted to relieve you of any and all stress and take care of you for the night. jaebeom made you your favorite meal, as well as a red velvet cake, and had bought three beautiful rose bouquets for you, each one representing one of the years you had spent together.

you walked through the front door, and even from the kitchen he could hear you sigh loudly. it must have been a long day.

“y/n?”

“hmmm?”

“happy valentines,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug and giving you a peck on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too. uhm, i don’t mean to be a downer baby, but i don’t feel like going out tonight,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest.

“rough day?” he frowned when you nodded. valentines was always one of your favorite days, so seeing you so down made his heart hurt. “well, good thing i made us dinner so we don’t have to go out.”

you picked your head off his shoulder, looking up at him. “you did?”

“yes, baby, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen to see pasta and cake on the stove and the three bouquets on the dining room table. “we may have to sit at the island tonight, there’s a garden at the table.”

the two of you sat as the island of the kitchen, him listening intently as you told him about your day from hell. he could tell by your voice that you were exhausted, so once you finished with dessert, he took your plates and put them in the sink.

“cmon babe, you deserve to relax. let me run you a bath and i’ll do the dishes tonight.”

“why don’t you join me instead?” you asked sweetly. “just wanna be close to you.”

he winked at you. “anything for my valentine.”

jackson;

you were under strict instructions from your husband to meet him at a fancy restaurant with your two beautiful daughters in tow, since he had to work all morning and couldn’t make it to their schools valentines class parties. he felt so bad when his youngest, elizabeth, who was still in preschool started to cry when he told her he couldn’t come to her party. the oldest, natalie, who had just turned nine, put on a brave face, but you and jackson could tell she was crushed.

“cmon, girls, daddy doesn’t like when we’re late,” you urged, smiling softly as you watched natalie help beth change into her jumper.

“does daddy have gifts for us?” natalie asked, her eyes wide.

“mm, yes honey, and i have one for you too,” you smiled knowingly as your girls began to scream in excitement, almost knocking you down as they exited their shared room.

you made it to the restaurant, where you let out a breath of relief. the girls wouldn’t stop pestering you about what your present for them was. you thought you might drop the ball and spill your little secret, but you kept your mouth shut, singing along to one of your husband’s songs that was on the radio, and the girls followed suit.

you walked them into the restaurant, where jackson was sitting alone with balloons and three gift bags – one for each of his girls.

“daddy!” your girls screamed in unison, running through the restaurant to get to their daddy. you watched the looks on the couples face as you passed by – some looked at the girls with joy in their eyes, while others just rolled their eyes, probably just wanting a quiet, romantic night out. you just smiled, nothing could bring your spirit down.

“ah, my girls! i missed you so much!” he said, scooping them both into his arms. “how were your parties, sweeties?”

you sat across from your husband who was taking in the stories of his daughters days, replying with the same amount of enthusiasm that they did. after the girls were done talking, natalie crossed her arms.

“daddy, are you trying to distract beth and i from these gifts?”

you giggled as jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “isn’t valentines supposed to be about love? i just want to hear how my girls are. i love you all very much, you know.”

your heart somersaulted. you fell more and more in love with him day after day.

the girls opened their gifts – a stuffed clifford the big red dog for beth (he was her favorite right now), and a lego set for natalie. they both thanked him endlessly. “daddy, will you help me put this together?” natalie asked, almost shyly.

“of course, baby girl.”

“mommy, what is your gift for us?”

jackson studied your face as you took the rectangular box that was tied up with a single black bow out of your pocket. there was a big, stupid grin on your face. “this is for all of you. i want you all to know i love you so much.”

“go ahead, girls, open it,” jackson urged, still studying your face. you winked at him.

“uh, mommy, what is this?”

jackson’s eyes were blown wide as he looked at the two positive pregnancy tests. “tell me you’re joking?” his eyes were misty now. the two of you had been trying for a third child for two years and had been failing. your daughters looked at the two of you, dissatisfied with your present.

“do you know what this means, girls?” jackson asked in a whisper, squeezing your hand from across the table. “you’re going to have a little brother or sister in a couple of months.”

“no way!!!” they cheered, hugging each other.

“this is the best valentines gift i have ever received, thank you baby,” jackson said. you sent him a wink.

“couldn’t have made it without you.”

jinyoung;

you were glowing as you looked over at jinyoung from across the table. he smiled as you just beamed at him, playing footsie under the table. it was 3am at the diner off campus, and nobody was around to see you two. you were happy, sucking on your milkshake. jinyoung just admired you before saying; “you have sex hair.”

“and who’s fault is that?”

the two of you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember, and now, your senior year of college, the two of you had been best friends with benefits. you had been hooking up since the day you had called him sobbing about an exam, and he had consoled you by kissing you. it’s been history ever since then.

“when are you going to admit that we were made for each other,” jinyoung was nothing if not blunt. he smiled gently, reaching across the table and holding your hand. you shrinked in on yourself, blushing.

“i thought we agreed it’d be too much,” you said, stealing one of his fries off his plate, avoiding his gaze. “with senior thesis and projects…”

“i never agreed to that. you said that and i just went along with it because i didn’t want to lose what we have. i think it’s bullshit to say that us dating is too much. we see each other at least twice a week,” he paused before smirking. “you’re sitting here in my pajama pants with sex hair. on valentines day”

he had a point. the two of you always made time to see each other – studying at a local coffee shop on mondays and sometimes hooking up on the weekends (to relieve stress, of course). you couldn’t deny the chemistry that the two of you had…and graduation was only a couple months away...would it really be so crazy to start dating right now?

“i know you adore me,” jinyoung smiled, saying it softly. “and i know that i adore you. so what’s the problem?”

you looked down. “i’m scared. i don’t want to lose you.”

jinyoung knew you had insecurities in relationships – the last guy you dated had moved away without even telling you and moved in with one of his girlfriends. he has helped you through that time of heartbreak in your life…and he didn’t want that to ever happen to you again. he wouldn’t stand for it.

“y/n, i would never hurt you.”

you squeezed his hand. “just give me some time, okay? you’re right, i do adore you.”

“i’ll give you whatever time you need.”

jinyoung picked up the tab and you drove back home in silence, your fingers interlaced with his. you looked over at him in the passenger side. “nyoungie, will you spend the night?”

he kissed your fingers. “of course, sweetheart.”

when you woke up the next morning, you’re alone. you immediately panic until you smell….eggs?

you walk into the kitchen to see jinyoung flipping eggs, and pretty flowers on the countertop. he smiles widely. “good morning, my valentine.”

cheesy bastard.

you wrap your arms around his back, breathing in his scent. “i don’t need anymore time.”

“hm?”

“i want to be yours, jinyoung.”

jinyoung turns around in your arms before kissing you. “i have always been yours.”

youngjae;

“youngjae, are you there?” you giggled as you sat on your shared bed.

“im here baby,” he said. “jinyoung keeps bugging me to watch with us.”

“tell him no! it’s date night,” you frowned. “im gonna go get a bottle of wine.”

“okay, honey.”

you walk into the kitchen, admiring the flowers youngjae had ordered for you for the tenth time that day. you grabbed your favorite bottle of wine and scooped up the little sleepy ball of fluff before heading back into the bedroom. although you would have loved to have physically spent valentines with youngjae, you realized this was the best it was gonna get.

“get the wine?” your boyfriend asked before squealing at the screen. “coco!!! oh, i miss you both so much!!!”

“is that coco!!” you heard jinyoung squeal too. mark came into the frame and started cooing too.

“jinyoung, mark, date night!” you giggled, lifting coco into your lap, shaking the little paw to say “hi.”

“i miss you guys,” you tell the boys. “i really do, but can jae and i enjoy valentines together? we just want some alone time.”

“ahh, okay y/n, happy valentines,” jinyoung winked at you.

“you really should come out here with us, they never listen to me that well,” youngjae says. “you look so pretty. i wish i was there with you.”

you and youngjae had been in a long distance relationship for three years now, and it got easier, but there was just some days you longed for each other. you knew this was one of those days, you could tell by the longing in his eyes.

“jae. i miss you,” you pouted. “coco, say bye to your daddy, mommy has to show him something.”

youngjae knew you were up to something. “jae...how about we skip the movie? i bought something for you,” before you could hear him answer, you started stripping out of your pjs, showing off your brand new lingerie. it left absolutely nothing to the imagination and made you look so sexy. and it was red, too. you could hear youngjae gulp, his pupils blown wide.

“why must you torture me?”

“oh, i mean, we can watch a movie instead....,” you teased, pulling down a strap to reveal more cleavage to your awaiting boyfriend. “its up to you, ill slip into my pajamas and we can —.”

“don’t you even think about stopping,” he growled, shifting the computer down to show you him palming his bulge. you grinned.

your plan was unfolding marvelously.

bam;

you didn’t want to make a big deal about bam working on valentines day. you knew it was a cheesy and cliche holiday...but that didn’t stop you from feeling sad that you couldn’t spend the whole day in your mans’ arms. you pushed the feeling away, texting your boyfriend “happy vday! love u”

you busied yourself with school work to ignore the hurt you felt in your heart, but you couldn’t get your mind off bam. you scrolled through your camera roll to pick the pictures for your instagram post. before you could post a picture of you posing with bam on the beach, a call interrupted you.

“y/n, what are you doing right now??” jackson asks in a panicked voice.

“uh, working on a project...are you okay?”

“bam just fell, he’s in pain. he keeps asking for you, can you take him to the ER??”

“ill be there in ten.”

you sped all the way to the dance studio, bracing yourself for a broken ankle or a gash in his face. oh, god, you wanted your heart to stop racing.

“where’s my baby boy??” you asked jaebeom, who was smirking when you first saw him, but the smirk was completely wiped off his face when he saw your misty eyes. “jaebeom, is he okay? why couldn’t you have brought him to the ER! i could have met you there!”

“uh, y/n, come with me. and stop crying,” jaebeom led you into the studio where bam was sitting on the floor. the studio was surrounded with gifts all wrapped up in pink and red, heart shaped balloons, as well a buffet of your favorite foods. you looked at jaebeom in confusion, who just winked at you and closed the door behind him.

“happy valentines, baby,” there was a knowing smile on his face.

“you are such an ass. i almost had a heart attack driving over here,” you whined, pulling away from his hug.

“y/n!! i was just trying to surprise you,” your boyfriend said, picking one of your gifts up and handing it to you. “please let me spoil you all day. i knew you were upset with me for coming to work, let me give you the valentines i know you want.”

you smiled. “how can i argue with such a big softie?”

“shut up, i cant help that i love you,” he was pouting now. “now let me eat whipped cream off of your body.”

yugyeom;

“how do you expect to meet someone if you have an engagement ring on your finger when you’re a single woman?” your new friend, yugyeom asked you. “seems strange to me.”

“maybe i don’t want to date anybody, did you ever think of that?” you asked him. “besides, it wards off all the creeps. hey, there’s a diner at this exit, wanna stop?”

you pulled off the highway to the diner. it was valentine’s, so of course the place was crowded. yugyeom whined. “can’t we just get mcdonalds or something? we’ve been in the car for six hours and im hungry.”

prior to six hours ago, you didn’t know yugyeom. he was bam’s best friend, so you had heard of him in the past. yugyeom was visiting some art school in new york, while you were going home to see your family for your sister’s birthday. wanting to save both of his friends money, he suggested you drive yugyeom to new york. you didn’t know….it was a long drive from chicago, but yugyeom said he would give you half the gas money, so it would be worth it. new york wasn’t cheap.

“exactly, so we should eat a proper meal. we still have six and a half hours left.”

“fine,” he huffed.

the waitress sat you two down and gave you your menus before squealing. everyone in the diner turned their heads. “oh. my. GOD!!! did he propose to you today? that ring is absolutely stunning!!”

“oh, no I –“

“as a matter of fact, i proposed this morning. we’re on our way to new york to tell our families,” yugyeom beamed at her, kicking your foot under the table.

the waitress looked like she might faint. “that is so romantic. whenever you’re ready, dinner’s on the house.”

she scurried away, and many “congratulations” rang throughout the little establishment.

“aw, honey you’re blushing,” yugyeom winked at you. you rolled your eyes. you didn’t know if you were smitten with this guy or if you plainly disliked him.

“don’t point it out, dear,” you played along. “have you figured out what you want to order?”

the two of you ordered and pretended to be a couple the whole meal. you scoured at your friend when he stole some of your french fries off your plate. he just sent a wink in your direction. when you sipped some of your milkshake, he rested his hand in his cheek, staring at you. you giggled.

“yeom, what are you up to?”

“just admiring.”

okay, so you were smitten by him.

the two of you went back to the car, where a small smile was playing on his lips. “that was kind of fun.”

you blushed, sinking into the drivers seat. “i haven’t had that much fun in years.”

“maybe you should get back into dating. i think you would make anyone have a good time with you.” he said offhandedly. “that ring is going to prevent you from ever going on a date again.”

“dating is never that easy,” you tried to reason with him…you had been burned so many times in the past, why would you ever want to let yourself get hurt again.

“it was with us,” since your eyes were on the road, you couldn’t see him shrug. “i’m going to take a nap, happy valentines.”

you glanced over at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself. you managed to take the ring off your finger without crashing the car and set it in the center console. beside you, yugyeom opened his eyes.

“does this mean i can take you out once we get to new york?”

251 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

before one a.m.

description: bang chan, college of music, friend of a friend who surprisingly offers to share a workplace in a cafe on this busy friday night member: chan genre: fluff, college au, strangers to friends au, reader is a fine arts student word count: 7.4k warning: explicit language note: inspired by the before trilogy but it kinda feels like i didn’t do it justice i rlly cant do strangers to anything lmao im a clown + this took rlly long but it’s not that good sldkfjkdsl :(

6:30 PM

You hurriedly skip up the steps of the campus library’s entrance staircase, backpack slung over one shoulder and your laptop, tucked in its own bag, and a sketchbook pressed to your chest. Entering through the double doors, you breathlessly sigh in disappointment at seeing most of the working tables full. I run from Fine Arts across the oval to a full library, you huff at scanning the floor from the entrance one last time before proceeding to run up the staircase by the reception desk, skipping the steps again in an attempt to cross the distance faster.

On the second to the last step, as you focus on not missing the steps you hop onto, your shoulders accidentally bump into someone rushing down from the opposite side, almost making you slip if not for the stranger who quickly steadies you by your upper arm in time. “Woah there.” A familiar voice mutters under his breath as you regain composure. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry!”

You look up from almost dropping your laptop and sketchbook on the staircase, meeting eyes with an apologetic Bang Chan who has moved a step above you with a messenger bag and his infamous laptop.

“Are you okay?” He prods on, going down one step again so you’re on the same level now.

Though he’s in a different college, you know him by name and face from similar social circles, hence the slight embarrassment you felt at recognizing him after almost slipping right in front of him. “I’m okay.” You muse, eyes then flitting over to the second floor entrance. “Is it full too?”

Chan nods once, fixing his messenger bag with one hand as it starts to feel heavy. “Y-yeah, it’s finals week in the College of Sciences, I think.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Well, that’s too bad.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, you slowly alternating your gaze between the second floor and the staircase leading back to the first, contemplating on what to do now, while Chan strangely waits for you to say something again.

When you don’t speak, he speaks up again, “Do you want to...” He trails off until you avert your gaze back to him. “I’m going to Block 325 to work. Do you want to come and share a table with me?”

Your eyes widen, surprised at a fellow college student being generous enough to share a study spot with you, but Chan misinterprets, thinking you don’t remember him from when you were introduced in Seungmin’s birthday party. “I’m sorry.” He quickly apologizes again, scratching the nape of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just that I thought you’d—now I sound like a creep. I’m so sorry, that’s not my intention at all.”

Simultaneously, you respond, “O-Oh, I was just surprised. College students aren’t really that generous with work areas—what?”

Chan takes a step backward, leaning close to the railings. “W-What?”

You chuckle, amused by the small miscommunication that suddenly made the atmosphere lighter. “Why did you think you sounded like a creep? I just said it’s a nice offer, not everyone here offers to share work spaces.”

“Well, I thought you didn’t recognize me,” He answers honestly. “we were introduced at Seungmin’s party?”

You shake your head, your smile growing at how cute he looks when he’s flustered. “Bang Chan, right? College of Music.” You smile when he nods innocently. “See? I’m more worried you didn’t recognize me, CB97.”

Chan blushes in embarrassment, but even more in the way his Soundcloud rapper name rolls off your lips almost teasingly. “So...” He changes the topic immediately. “Do you want to go with me, Y/N?”

You nod, noting the way he mimicked the tone you used in referring to him by his stage name. “Of course, thank you for offering to share a workspace.”

“No problem, any friend of Seungmin’s my friend too.” He waves his free hand dismissively before leading you down the staircase. “Come on, let’s go.”

You leave the library together, the feeling of the building’s cold air conditioning leaving escaping your skin making you sweat slightly. You don’t skip down the stairs this time since Chan doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to Block 325 cafe, North of the campus oval.

“Look.” Chan points up as the two of you reach the sidewalk. You follow his gaze as you continue walking, seeing the sunset’s sky move with the crown shyness of trees forming a canopy over the road. “Careful when you’re walking.”

You deliberately ignore his last comment, musing, “Wow, it’s so beautiful.” Your mouth falls agape and your eyes widen. “The canopy shape makes it look so magical, don’t you think?”

“You don’t stay late out here much?” Chan asks when you turn your eyes back to the sidewalk ahead.

You return his gaze with a shrug, “Only on hell weeks like this...but even then, I usually stay in our department building so I don’t get out much at this hour.”

“So why aren’t you working in your building tonight?”

“The floor where I usually work overnight is under renovation. I can’t work at my dorm too since we don’t really have that much space for studying,” Your eyes move down to his laptop bag, noticing how it’s bulkier than yours. “What about you? Don’t they have studios in the College of Music?”

“They’re full tonight since a lot of seniors are starting their thesis proposals.” He points out. “I’m actually not out making a school project, this one’s for a gig.”

“And in your dorms?”

“It’s movie night so everyone’s going to be really noisy.”

“Oh, then lucky you didn’t get a table in the library,” You point out with a giggle. “the entire College of Sciences would’ve been pissed at you.”

Chan scoffs lightheartedly, “And you? If you got a table, the entire library would’ve gotten annoyed by you making a mess.”

“I’m organized when I work outside the studio, thank you very much.” You roll your eyes, chuckling towards the end. “But yeah, I guess it’s better that we’re going to a cafe since I’m working with watercolor.”

At this, you arrive in front of Block 325 cafe, Chan courteously opening the door for you.

7:30 PM

You settle in a booth by the window, illuminated by a white paper lantern and one of the cafe’s neon signs that reads, “COFFEE,” in a metallic color. Chan sits across from you and takes the half of the table near the window, his laptop blocking his face and his headphones covering his ears, while you sit near the aisle, occasionally mistaking your open cup of latte for the small bowls you brought with you containing tap water as you work on your plate due on Monday.

Chan glances over to your work space whenever he reviews his work every 15 minutes, propping an elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his palm, and you take rests from your own work by trying to catch him in the act, giggling when you do and shaking your head when you don’t.

As an hour passes by, you put your brush down to let your plate dry and look up at Chan as he tests out melodies on his synthesizer, taking a long sip of your latte before asking, “How’s your song?”

Chan’s eyes widen at the faint hint of your voice, hands traveling up to his headphones and taking them off. “Hm?”

“I asked how’s it going.” You repeat patiently over your latte. The sweet taste of the coffee brew reminds you of Chan’s coffee order, finding the cappuccino only half-empty in the hour you’ve been in the cafe.

“Oh, it’s going well.” He answers proudly, eyes alternating between your expectant eyes and his laptop’s screen. “I’m just fixing some mixing issues.”

You nod, looking around the surprisingly organized table. Before Chan could wear his headphones again, you gesture to the counter, “I’m ordering. Do you want anything?”

He shakes his head in response, wearing his headphones again. “No, thank you, I’ll order later.”

You purse your lips, standing up from your seat and briefly stretching your arms upwards. “Okay.” You then adjust your denim jacket as it loosely falls on your right shoulder before walking over to the counter.

“Hello, is there anything you need?” The barista on duty politely asks from brewing an Americano behind the counter. Though the cafe is full today, like you and Chan, most of the customers are only here for the wifi and the work space.

You skim through the menu once before leaning over the counter and responding, “I’ll have two slices of strawberry shortcake, a banana bread, and the chocolate glazed doughnut, please.” The barista immediately acknowledges it, moving over to the cashier to input your order. “Thank you!”

You then pay when the she tells you the price, moving over to the display case of desserts and pastries where she then carefully takes your orders.

You survey the other desserts, pastries, and bottled drinks before your eyes return to Chan across the cafe, catching him leaning over the table and trying to take a peek at your work from his angle, making you giggle once again.

And as if he heard you, he turns to you, eyes widening briefly at getting caught before awkwardly waving at you. You decide on waving back until the barista presents your order next to the counter, neatly organized on a tray.

“Thank you again!” You say politely before taking the tray and going back to your table, Chan eyeing all the delicacies the entire time.

“Stressed much?” He asks, pointing at the two slices of strawberry shortcake. When you look down, only then do you realize that the two slices were placed in one plate with a pair of forks and napkins. “Not that it’s bad to eat a lot, it’s just...a lot of sweets.”

“The other one’s supposed to be for you but I guess the barista thought we’re sharing a plate.” You hand him the chocolate glazed doughnut, thrusting it into his hands when he initially refuses. “You need to eat on time even when it’s just a small amount.”

“I’ll pay you later,” Chan says after thanking you for the doughnut, reluctantly unwrapping the plastic cover and taking a big bite. “And you can have the cake, it’s fine.”

“I can’t finish the cake on my own.” You sit down now, taking a bite of the banana bread with one hand while pushing the cake at the center of the table with the other. Chan then politely helps you by placing the tray on the empty space of his share of the table. “Just take the other slice, you don’t have to pay me”

“But—“

“It’s for offering me a table tonight.” You immediately interject reassuringly. “Please, have the other slice of cake.”

Chan ends up smiling appreciatively at you, picking up one of the forks and cutting a forkful. “...Thank you.”

You nod, moving your banana bread to your non-dominant hand to pick up your brush and go back to work. “No problem.” You muse, smiling unconsciously at watching Chan stop working altogether to eat. “Like you said, ‘any friend of Seungmin’s a friend of mine too.’”

As you turn back to painting, returning to your unfinished Winter wonderland, you look at Chan again, asking, “Anyway, what do you think?”

He looks up immediately, his slice of cake almost gone. You quickly clarify, “My plate, I mean.”

“Oh,” His eyes flicker down to your work again once. “It’s really beautiful. Akita, right?” You nod at his question, letting him continue. “I love the details and the colors—they seem so whimsical and nostalgic, like a childhood memory.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks by the genuine tone of his voice, “Thank you. I hope the professor feels the same way when he sees it.”

“Why Akita?"

“We’re supposed to make a study on nature but I didn’t want to just make something that’s so common around here so I chose this, from a winter trip I won in an art competition last year.” You look down on your work, a flood of memories making your smile wider. “It was the first time I went on a trip alone and it’s abroad so it was a little scary at first but I had a lot of fun.”

“Really? That sounds cool.” He comments enthusiastically. “It must be fun to travel on your own. I mean, I do too but, sort of; only until I arrive in Australia when I visit my family.”

Simultaneously, you nod, “It is fun, like it’s one of the things you have to do at one point in your life.”

“Right, right!” He replies with a chuckle, nodding along still. “I don’t know a lot of people who think the same way so I’m weirdly glad.”

You spare a glance at Chan, your gaze softening at his genuine expression. When he gives you a questioning look, you answer, “I’m surprised, too; you just seem more like the crowd-type of person.”

He shrugs. “It’s always fun to be with friends but I think you can enjoy the company of others the best when you’re already comfortable with being on your own.”

“And are you?” You prod, reaching over for the unused fork and and taking a small piece of your strawberry cake. “Already comfortable with being on your own?”

He nods with a confident grin. “Yeah, I invited you over, didn’t I?”

You smile back. “I guess so.”

8:30 PM

An hour later, you catch Chan stretching his arms upward, leaning back on the seat cushions. You momentarily stop touching up your work, looking up at him with a raised brow, “Break?”

He nods, stifling a yawn as he brings his hand back down to close his laptop. “Just for 10 minutes.” He gestures over to your work, leaning close to the table. “You should, too, you’ve been working for an hour straight.”

You glance down at your work, contemplating for a moment before carefully placing your brush to the side and leaning back to your seat as well. “Okay, but just for 10 minutes.”

You then finish what remains of your latte while Chan organizes the table by gathering all the empty wrappers and your shared plate and cutlery to the tray you used a while back. In response, you take his empty glass.

“I can take that.” He gestures over to the glasses in your hand with your empty plate while scooting over to the aisle. “Just sit down.”

You shake your head but place the glass on the tray, standing up almost simultaneously as he does. You then pick up your bowls of paint waiter, holding them up to him. “I’m going to go and change my water.”

“Oh...okay, then.” The two of you then proceed to the counter where the barista happily takes the tray from Chan’s hands while you dump your dirty paint water in their service sink and replace it with cleaner tap water.

“Thank you for letting me use your water, again.” You told the barista after Chan offered to carry one of your bowls.

“It’s no problem!” The barista replies with a dismissive wave and a smile.

You and Chan then carefully return to your table, placing your bowls on your half of the table.

Chan checks the time on his phone as he sits down, 8:34 PM. “We still have six minutes, what do you want to talk about?”

“You’re really keeping check?” You ask in disbelief to Chan who nods with his lips in pursed and his arms folded to his chest as he slides down his seat. “So responsible.”

“I just thought you might be wary of the time,” He shrugs nonchalantly. “so you can go home early and all, it’s Friday anyway.”

You shake your head, scrunching up your nose, “I don’t have to be somewhere this weekend. All my friends are all busy studying and catching deadlines and Seungmin’s tutoring someone for the entire weekend.”

You decide on busying yourself by scrolling through your Instagram on your phone, glancing over at Chan occasionally as he contemplates on what else to say while opening his laptop again.

“How do you know Seungmin by the way? If I may ask...?” He settles for such a question when his eyes trail over the customized keychain on your backpack, a photo of you, Seungmin, and your other best friend, Sooyoung, in a Mickey Mouse-shaped frame. “I mean, he talks about you a lot when we hang out but didn’t introduce us until recently so I thought you were dating but he said you aren’t so I’m just...curious.”

When you look up at him, you follow his gaze to your keychain, an amused smile taking over your features. “We’re not dating, just childhood friends but not really close to the point that we know all of the other’s friends.” Unconsciously, your hand finds their way to the keychain, fiddling with them lightly before turning to Chan. “Anyway, even if we just met recently, I’m really happy it’s you and the others he specifically befriended.”

Chan nods with a hum. When he doesn’t speak, you ask him back his question, “How about you? I’m guessing you met through Felix and Jeongin?”

“Yeah,” He agrees with another nod. “I toured them around campus last year during their orientation.”

“Aw, you’re in the Orientation Committee?” You coo. Even though it suits his personality, hearing him say it out loud made it somehow more adorable. “That’s so cute! That’s probably why I always hear the Freshmen gossip about you in our studios.”

His eyes widen at this, pink dusting his cheeks. “W-what?” He stammers, making you laugh.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.” You shake your head in feign disapproval, crossing your arms for emphasis. “You’re very popular on campus: music major, radio DJ, performs in a rap trio, and I just find out that you’re in the Orientation Committee touring Freshman on the first week? If I was any batch lower, I would’ve swooned over you in my first months here too. Oh? You’re blushing!”

Chan scoffs, rolling his eyes in an attempt to hide the now prominent blush on his cheeks. “I’m not, I’m not!” He waves his hand dismissively to distract you from the clearly seeing his face.

“You definitely are!” You point out in between chuckles, sitting up properly when you unconsciously slide down the booth. “Are you not used to getting compliments? Seriously, this is why I didn’t think you’d remember me from earlier: you’re too charming and popular with other students.”

Internally, he briefly wonders if you’d still swoon over him even when you’re in the same batch but quickly pushes the thought away. “I really don’t think I’m that popular. I’m pretty sure people like Jisung and Changbin more.” He shrugs. “And popular or not, I can remember you anywhere.”

The last sentence immediately makes you stop laughing, your heart skipping a beat at what you think is just a casual statement from him, You come up with a retort, only to be interrupted by a sound alert from Chan’s phone, reminding the two of you that it’s already 8:40 PM.

“Okay, break’s done!” He exclaims happily, relieved that he can finally get out of this embarrassing conversation.

You tsk playfully, picking up your brush while Chan opens his laptop again. “I still think you’re very charming and popular, CB97.” You comment before he can tune you out with his music again. “In fact, if someone asked, I’ll have to say that you’re my favorite 3racha member.”

Chan pretends to increase the volume on his laptop in his flustered state. You catch this, an amused smile forming on your lips. You conclude to yourself that you feel more casual and comfortable around him now that you made him flustered.

Cute.

9:30 PM

You’ve been done for quite a while now, having busied yourself in the past 5 minutes in disposing the paint water, cleaning your brushes, and packing your things while your work completely dries. Chan looks up at you from his own work when you return with clean bowls and brushes, his headphones falling down his shoulders. Hesitantly, he asks, “Are you leaving?”

You sit down first, contemplating on the question as you carefully place your bowls and brushes inside your bag, before opting for a shrug and answering, “I’m too lazy to leave yet.” You then briefly break eye contact to check your phone for the time. “Besides, it’s too early. I can stick around, right?”

He nods once, lifting his headphones up to his ears again. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

You give him an appreciative smile, leaning back in your seat and opening your phone to Instagram. Blindly, you reach your backpack pockets for your earphones as well, managing to find them after a while.

Simultaneously, Chan lifts another glance over to you just as you’re connecting your earphones to your phone. A thought then passes over him, “Do you want to...” He trails off again, just until you return his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Do you want to listen with me?”

“Wouldn’t we bother everyone else studying?” You ask back in response, your forehead crinkling in confusion as you gesture over to the other remaining customers in the vicinity.

He quickly pauses his music and takes out what seems to be an adapter that splits into two ports on one end, holding it between the two of you. “You can connect your earphones here, I’ll do the same, then I’ll plug it on my laptop.” He motions to his laptop while taking out his headphones’ audio jack towards the end. “It’s an earphone splitter—for sharing music from one device, basically.”

“Oh.” You nod along in fascination. You then disconnect your earphones from your phone, plugging it on one of the two ports of the splitter. “Okay, if it’s okay to listen.”

He shrugs reassuringly. “Well, it’s an unreleased track but it’s okay since everyone’s going to hear anyway—just don’t tell Changbin I let you listen to it first before him.” His eyes then widen and his mouth falls slightly agape when you get up from your seat, leaving your earphones on the table, and move to the empty space next to him, picking up your earphones again and placing the buds on your ears.

You look to your side, raising an eyebrow at his surprised expression, “What?”

“N-Nothing.” He stammers out, casting his eyes downward to connect his headphones to the splitter’s other port then connecting the splitter itself to his computer.

You giggle. “I can’t stay in my seat, I’ll get cramps from leaning over the table.”

He pretends to ignore your comment in his flustered state, his mouse hovering over to the very start of the track before pressing play. “Playing now.”

You slide down the booth comfortably, shoulders jumping slightly at the soft drums and bass that flows into your earphones instead of the usual aggressive percussion and beat that everyone associates with Chan’s rap group. Next to you, Chan props his elbow on the table and rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, pretending to watch the stacked and overlapping tracks’ wavelengths move with the music’s progression while stealing glances in your direction, trying to catch a reaction.

“What’s the name of this track?” You ask over the music, your voice coming out louder against Changbin’s rap. “Does it have a name already?”

He unconsciously grasps the fabric of his hoodie with his free hand, holding it up to you. “Hoodie season?”

You chuckle, a little skeptical. “You sound unsure. Did you come up with that on the spot?”

But he shakes his head, gesturing over to the file name. “It’s the name of the track, seriously.” Internally, he also wonders why he seemed to have hesitated.

"It’s a fitting name, I guess.” You end up nodding with a hum, eyes lighting up when Jisung begins to sing. “Perfect for the incoming Winter.”

Jisung then starts rapping after the chorus, surprising you once again. “As expected of Han Jisung.” You clap lightly in satisfaction, a proud smile on your face. “Changbin’s verse was also great. Ah, I can’t wait to hear this live.”

Chan starts feeling visibly anxious next to you as his verse nears, leg bouncing up and down under the table and his fingers poking into his cheek to the beat of the song, that he blurts out, “We’re performing here before break.”

You look up from the laptop screen to him expectantly. “Really? When? What time?” You ask hurriedly, not wanting to speak over the music in case Chan’s part comes up next.

“On the Saturday before break, I think?” He answers, eyes glancing back and forth between you and the track. “Saturday night, from what I can remember.”

The chorus then plays again after Jisung’s verse, making you sit up properly in your seat once again in anticipation for Chan’s verse. “Tickets?” You ask him to the already familiar tune of the chorus.

“It’s free admission.” He answers, the most anxious now. Why did they have to say I’m their favorite member? He sighs in his head at the very cause of his sudden anxiousness.

Chan’s verse then plays, your tight-lipped smile turning into a satisfied grin. You don’t say anything more, leaving Chan internally lingering over the question of whether or not you’ll attend the gig.

“Hey, baby, I’ll make you my lover, ay. I’m thankful that I’m warm in the Autumn, ooh ah, ooh ah, I’ll hold you wherever we go.”

You chuckle somewhere between the lyrics, looking over at Chan in amusement who returns your gaze with a confused look. “You make hoodies sound so romantic.” You comment, answering his unspoken question. “Not that it can’t be, it’s just that you made it sound witty and funny somehow.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He asks with genuine concern. The song now ends but you don’t take your earphones out of the splitter and he doesn’t bother as well.

“It’s a good thing.” You comment, careful of your tone in case you let it slip that you’re totally swooning over him right now. “Plus, this sounds fresh—it’s so different from the songs you usually put out.”

“Really? Thanks.” He heaves a sigh of relief, smiling more carefree now.

The two of you don’t speak for a while, not even bothering to take out your earphones. Sitting closer to Chan now, you feel even more lazy to get up and move back to your seat, much less leave and walk to your dorm right outside campus.

After a while, Chan speaks up again. “Want to listen to something else?”

You motion over to the track, “Are you done already? I might be interrupting your work.”

He tilts his head to the side, placing his propped up arm on the table back on his lap as he sits up properly. “It’s pretty much done, just needs a little tweaking on the mixing. I can do that later.” For emphasis, he saves the track and exits the software, the screen displaying his files folder. “Come on, choose a song.”

You scoot closer to him, your leg brushing against his now as you lean closer to the screen while he slowly scrolls down the files for you. “Oh, play WOW, that one’s funny.”

Chan frowns. “Not that one, please.”

In retaliation, you quickly swipe the mouse from him and play the track, laughing maniacally as the familiar intro skit begins to play.

“Oh God.” Chan groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands.

But he lets the music anyway. Though he’s feeling very embarrassed, all these feelings are immediately forgotten with seeing you enjoying yourself.

10:40 PM

The barista passes by your table to remind you kindly that the cafe is closing in a while. Only then do you realize that, besides her, it’s just you and Chan in the cafe now, having spent the last hour going through Chan’s laptop.

“Ah, time passed by really quickly.” Chan muses as he finishes packing up his laptop then slings his backpack on his shoulder. You stand on the aisle, backpack on one shoulder while your laptop and sketchbook are tucked neatly on one arm reminiscent of when you came in, as you watch and wait for him quietly.

“It sure did.” You nod when he turns to face you, walking you to the door now. He opens the door for you again, chuckling when you tried beating him to it. “Oh, that reminds me, we only ate sweets a while ago.”

Chan hums in acknowledgement, catching up to you after closing the door behind him. Now, the campus oval is illuminated by yellow street lights, white building lights, and the occasional passing car against the dark night sky, a complete contrast from when you were outside hours ago. Besides the two of you, there’s barely any people outside anymore as well.

“Chan?” You tilt your head so that you have a better view of his face while walking, catching him off-guard in his dazed state.

“Yeah?” He blinks twice, embarrassed that he accidentally drowned you out. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You look like you fell asleep for a second there. I asked if you wanted to get a late dinner.” You repeat your question with a chuckle, facing the sidewalk ahead now. You see the library still open at this time from up ahead, half-empty from the view on the clear windows now that it’s nearing midnight. “My dorm’s across the West entrance and there’s a 24-hour grill on the corner of our street.”

“Oh...sure, sure,” Chan replies, suddenly realizing that he’s hungry again. “We can just eat at my dorm up ahead on the South side, though, it’s nearer.”

“In your dorm?” You raise an eyebrow teasingly.

“Yeah?” He replies back in an unsure manner before quickly realizing how he seemed to have come off. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that! We have a common area with a kitchen. I’ll cook for you, don’t worry!”

You nod in agreement just as you pass the intersection leading to the East entrance, laughing at the way his eyes crinkle in embarrassment. “I was just joking, sure, let’s go to your dorm.”

Chan sighs next to you, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck with his free hand. Such a tease. “Our pantry’s just ramen and canned food, though, so don’t raise your expectations too much.” He warns you lightly once he’s recovered from being a flustered mess.

“Seungmin says you cook fine, though,” You counter. “so I’m still having these expectations.”

You reach his dorm after 10 more minutes, Chan walking ahead as you walk up the steps of the entrance so he can open the door for you for the third time this evening and lead you into the common area kitchen. You catch sight of a few familiar faces in the dim light of the lounge area, mostly younger students from your department raving over an action movie playing on the big flat screen and Jisung and Changbin who greet you with knowing smiles on their faces before you disappeared into the kitchen.

“Are they always glad to see people?” You gesture over to Jisung and Changbin behind you from the wide open doorway as you and Chan leave your things by an empty bench. You briefly turn around to look at them once again, catching them wiggling their eyebrows at Chan before they notice you looking and waving at you with sarcastically sweet smiles in return. “It’s just that...they’re smiling really weird.”

You then turn back around to see Chan a few steps ahead of you shoot the two younger boys an annoyed look, shooing them away with his hand when they lean over the lounge sofa they occupy to have a better look of you and Chan, before turning to you again and laughing nervously, “They’re just being weird, ignore them.”

“Okay?” You nod, quickly dismissing the thought, before sitting down on the dining table as Chan proceeds to open the nearby refrigerator, passing you a pitcher of water and two glasses.

He then moves over to the overhead cabinets to your left, examining its contents once before turning to you, “Chicken, beef, or jajangmyeon?”

“Jajangmyeon, please.” You answer happily as you pour water on the two glasses in front of you. “I can’t believe Bang Chan of 3racha is making me ramen on a Friday night.”

“Stop teasing me.” He scoffs playfully, taking out four packets of jajangmyeon and opening another cabinet for a clean pot and ladle. He glances over to you slyly over his shoulder, looking away immediately when he catches you taking off your denim jacket to place on your chair behind you.

You take a sip of the cold water, the sensation making you feel refreshed after hours of working. “Bang Chan of 3racha offered me a work table, called my art pretty, let me listen to an unreleased song, and is now cooking for me—and this is the first time we talked without our mutual friend Seungmin.” You continue teasing him anyway, more as an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that he does look very handsome cooking even with your limited view. “I take back what I said a while ago, I’m definitely swooning right now.”

Though your tone is casual and playful, Chan can’t find it in himself to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks and the way his hands shake slightly while cooking jajangmyeon. “I’ll burn your share of the jajangmyeon.”

He hears you laugh behind him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

11:30 PM

You’re presented with a steaming bowl of jajangmyeon along with a few quick side dishes after 10 minutes of scrolling through your Twitter with the dorm’s guest wifi. You thank Chan as you pick up your chopsticks, eating when he does as he sits right across from you.

“Oh, this is really really good!” You comment after a bite, eyes bright and hands clasping together in satisfaction once again. “I don’t usually trust Seungmin but he is right, you cook well.”

Chan narrows his eyes at you, his lips unconsciously forming a pout as he chews. “You tease me then turns out you’ve been doubting my cooking skills this whole time.”

His expression makes you laugh in between big bites of your late dinner. “I meant to say after that what Seungmin said was an understatement, you’re not just fine you’re great so stop pouting!” You take a sip of water after swallowing your fourth bite, your gaze softening to a more sincere expression now. “Anyway, thank you for making me dinner.”

He smiles shyly now, quickly eating his food to reply, “You bought me cake and a doughnut and kept me company tonight so thank you, too.”

You take more sips of water as you slowly finish half your bowl before replying, “If I thank you again for offering me a table then we’d go on thanking each other the whole night.”

He laughs, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. “Let’s just say thank you at the same time and be done with it.”

“Right.” You agree. “So, thank you for everything tonight.”

“Same...thank you for tonight.” He then takes a sip of water before suddenly standing up, catching your attention. “There’s more jajangmyeon in the pot, do you want some more?”

“Yes, thank you!”

12:20 AM

You hold your used silverware tightly as you walk over to the sink, making sure Chan doesn’t snatch them from you and accidentally break them or wash them on his own.

“Just let me do this since you cooked.” You argue for the fifth time since your conversation shifted from the most random of topics to determining who washes the plates, successfully placing the silverware on the sink almost at the same time as Chan does so. When he tries to gently move you out of the way, you stay firmly on your spot by holding the kitchen counter. “Besides, it’s just one set of plates.”

“You’re in my dorm so let me wash the plates.” He protests for the second time as well while trying to swat your hands away. After two tries, he successfully moves you to the side, passing you a random packet of biscuits from the overhead cabinet to occupy yourself with. “You don’t have to make things even with us, we’re just hanging out casually.”

You frown, opening the packet and eating a biscuit anyway. “Still, if someone cooked the other should wash the plates, that’s how it goes.”

“That’s how it goes only when it’s a date.” He mumbles under his breath, not really expecting that you would catch it.

“A date?”

Quickly, he waves his hand dismissively at you. "Nothing. Seriously, it’s fine.” He smiles at you reassuringly, eventually feeling relieved when you don’t tease him further. “Anyway, it’s been a long night and you still have to walk back to your dorm after this so just rest over there.”

You look down on your biscuits, a thought suddenly coming into mind. “Have a biscuit, then.”

“No, just eat it.”

“Come on.” You hold up a biscuit to his face as he busies himself with scrubbing the plates and glasses. When he look your way or open his mouth, you poke his lips with the end of the biscuit. “Seriously, eat the biscuit!”

You see him trying to stifle a laugh as you continue poking around his lips with the biscuit, making you laugh as well. Moving away so you don’t take it as an opportunity, he replies, “If I eat this biscuit, will you let me walk you to the West gate? It’s late and dark out.”

You contemplate on this for a moment, your hand stopping in midair. Chan takes this as an opportunity to take a small bite of the biscuit, “Hey, you bit it already!”

He nods, leaning his head to your hand when you try retracting it then taking another bite. “Yeah, so can I walk you home then call it finally even.”

You sigh, letting him eat the whole biscuit in your hand. “Okay.”

“You wouldn’t feel like you need to repay me again after, okay?”

“Only if you don’t.”

“Deal.” He concludes, finally turning to look at you while he rinses the soap off the glasses. “Can I have another one?”

You take out another biscuit, initially extending it over to him before quickly putting it in your mouth before he can even take a bite. “Just kidding, you get the next one.” You mumble while taking out another biscuit, giving it to him this time when he’s done drying his hands, frowning.

“You’re so mean.” He comments, taking the biscuit from your hand.

“That’s what you signed up for when you decided on befriending me tonight.” You point out with a laugh, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it in the proper trash bin.

“Anyway, aren’t you tired? Should we go now?” He changes the topic after a while, walking over to the bench where you left your things.

You follow him, taking your jacket from the chair you previously occupied on the way. “Yeah before the RA kills me.”

He laughs. “Strict?”

“Not used to me staying out at this hour.” You correct, pointing at your bag when he picks it up and slings it over his shoulder. “You don’t have to.”

“This is what you signed up for when you agreed to let me walk you back.” He throws your comeback at you this time as he takes your laptop and sketchbook. “Come on, before your RA kills you.”

With a defeated sigh, you follow Chan out, almost missing the way Jisung and Changbin follow the two of you with curious eyes as you pass by the lounge once again.

“Do you think...” Jisung asks Changbin, not even needing to finish his question to get it across as Changbin fervently nods.

“I think so too.” Changbin replies, taking out his phone. “Should we tell Seungmin?”

12:50 AM

Eventually you reach the West gate. You stop on the side of the overpass, making Chan stop walking as well.

“I can walk on my own from here, it’s okay.” You smile reassuringly up at him. “Thanks for walking me all the way here again.”

He shakes his head, not showing any hint of letting go of your things. “I can walk you to your dorm entrance, though.”

You gesture over to your dorm building with an amused laugh, “It’s literally right next to the other end of the overpass. I don’t want you walking back with an extra distance.” When his skeptical look doesn’t fade away, you sigh but with an appreciative smile. “If you’re worried so much, you can just watch me from here then I’ll wave at you from the other side.”

After a moment, he finally gives in, handing you your belongings then stepping back so you can go up the overpass stairs. “Okay, okay.”

Such a gentleman, you muse internally to yourself as you take a step up the stairs, still facing him. “Goodnight, Chan.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He returns the greeting to you, hesitating on the last minute to give you a hug like he would do with his close friends. That’s too weird you just talked today, he reminds himself.

You pretend not to notice the way he almost extended his arms out for a hug, secretly feeling shy yourself. “I’ll see you when I see you?”

“How about the gig before break?” He asks, another question lingering in his mind but he decides on not asking it as a follow-up.

You nod in agreement, “I’ll be there, of course, you mentioned it a while ago.”

You’re about to turn around and walk up the overpass at noticing that he doesn’t show any sign of wanting to say anything else when you suddenly hear him ask behind you, “How about on a nearer date?” which makes you turn back around to face him. “How about—tomorrow?”

Shrugging as if nonchalantly, you ask back, “What about it?”

He hesitates again for a while before taking a small step forward so he’s looking up at you now from the bottom of the stairs. “Do you want to hang out tomorrow, if you’re free that is.”

You feel your heart flutter ever so slightly at this but you quickly force yourself to ignore it. “That doesn’t sound too fun.”

“What?” He frowns in genuine disappointment, almost making your teasing gaze soften.

“I meant where’s the fun in tonight if we meet again soon?” You clarify. “Just wait until your gig next week!”

He opens his mouth to speak but you’re already walking backwards up the stairs, adding, “And don’t try looking for me in the Fine Arts building, you should know I hide around there well! Goodnight, Chan! Thank you for tonight!”

With a final smile his way, you finally turn around and walk up the overpass, glancing over to him again when you reach the very top and begin crossing the bridge. As the two of you agreed, he remained by the side of the overpass, watching you carefully even when there’s barely any people on the bridge anymore.

In under a minute, you’ve reached the halfway mark of the other stairway where you can still see Chan clearly amidst the never-ending flow of cars. You raise a hand above your head, waving to him until he waves back.

Since you’re so far away, you miss the way Chan sighs before sending a dimpled smile your way. He contemplates on asking Seungmin more about you later.

With that, you then proceed back to your dorms, disappearing from Chan’s sight when you enter your dorm building. He takes that as his cue to head back to his own dorm.

“Next Saturday’s too far.” He huffs in frustration, sparing one last glance in the direction of your dorm building before passing through the West gate once again.

Nevertheless, he can’t help but feel excited at the prospect of talking to you again.

1:00 AM

Chan arrives back in the dorm building, immediately bombarded by Jisung and Changbin who hold his belongings with teasing looks.

“So you were with Y/N, huh?” Jisung starts, hugging Chan’s laptop to his chest tightly. “Why were you two together?”

Chan raises an eyebrow, not really knowing where this ‘interrogation’ is going. “I bumped into them at the library when it was full so I offered we share a table at 325.”

“That’s all?” Changbin asks this time, his arms crossed in front of his chest while Chan’s backpack hangs loosely on his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s all,” Chan nods slowly, eyebrows furrowing now. “Why? And why do you have my backpack.”

The two younger boys shake their head at the same time.

“Oh, nothing.” Jisung dissmises with a small wave. “Just curious.”

As if on cue, Chan’s phone rings its message alert.

seungmin: SO I HEARD U WENT OUT ON A DATE W Y/N [sent 1:04 AM]

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Weather

Nessian AU

I really liked this prompt, so thank you to whomever submitted it! Hope y’all enjoy a little soft Nessian this afternoon 💕

Nessian prompt: Nesta is sick and Cassian takes care of her and then Nesta is surprised and Cassian realizes that Nesta hasn’t had ppl take care of her since her mom died ♥️♥️♥️

acotar masterlist

——————————————————————————

Nesta was so sick and tired of being sick and tired. She had made it through the acceptance phase, which was impressive considering it was often the hardest for her. Today made day three, and she was officially in the resentment phase of her illness. She was taking a mental inventory of all the others who had attended the small gathering of friends from her senior thesis class, noting how most of them remained well despite their less than stellar hand hygiene that night. She, on the other hand, was a meticulous hand washer. By her very nature, she wasn’t the type to remain in super close proximity with others’ needlessly, either. How she was the one who fell sick (thanks to Claire) was beyond her.

So, here she was, a senior at Prythian University and mere months from graduation, sick as a dog and banned from the research lab until she went 48 hours without fever. She tried not to think about that fact too often as to spare herself the mild panic it occasioned. She repeated her current mantra for the umpteenth time that day.

You have plenty of time. You have plenty of time. You have plenty of time.

The only way she found comfort from the chills and fever-induced cold was on the couch, surrounded by cushions, and wrapped as tightly as possible in her mother’s quilt. At this point she thought herself to be a glorified burrito, but unfortunately, she was far more infectious.

She was finally starting to doze as she heard a polite, yet firm, rapping on her apartment door. Her eyes flew open as she scanned her brain frantically for several things: the day of the week, the time of day, and who, based on that information, could possibly be here to disrupt her rest.

Just before she decided to close her eyes again and ignore them, she heard a deep, friendly voice through the door. They weren’t speaking to her directly, but the voice was no less familiar.

“Hey, man. Yeah, doing good. You too!”

Even though she didn’t hear the other party’s end of the conversation, she knew Cassian was engaging in pleasant small talk with one of her neighbors. It could have been any one of them; he seemed to have more rapport with most of them than she managed after years of renting her place. He ran into any one of them at random on Wednesday afternoons when he met Nesta to work on their thesis together.

She launched herself from the couch, wincing at the aches that wracked through her body in the process. Dehydration had her vision blurring; dark spots working their way into her visual field. She steadied herself on the arm of the couch, cursing herself for forgetting to cancel this week’s thesis session with him.

He knocked again, this time a little louder. She glared at the door as if he could see her, hobbling toward him with her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she moved. She cracked the door open enough to peak out at him, and she felt a sudden rush of guilt at wasting his time. He was standing there with a small smile on his face, thumbs hooked through the bottom of his backpack straps.

“Hi,” she croaked.

His smile faltered immediately, his face morphing into an expression of genuine concern.

“Nesta? Are you okay?” He pressed gently on the door to get a better look at her, but he made no attempt to cross the threshold without her invitation.

“So sick. Got it from Claire. I forgot to tell you.” Her voice was raspy from disuse, and she only had the energy for short statements or sentence fragments.

He didn’t look the least bIt offended at her forgetfulness as he scanned her for signs of the severity of her symptoms.

“Don’t mention it. I’m fine. Who’s here looking after you? Ask them if they need me to run and pick up anything.”

The widespread aching applied to her facial features as well, as proven by the sensations she felt as her face slid into a look of confusion.

“It’s just me, Cassian. You know I live alone.”

He scratched the back of his neck, showing his discomfort.

“Yeah, I know. I just figured...” he trailed off, a new thought flashing across his handsome face. “Can I come in? I’ll get you settled before I head home. It’s the least I could do since I’m already here.”

Nesta didn’t have it in her to respond vocally. She simply walked away, door ajar, and made her way back to her couch. Had she been feeling even a fraction better, she may have refused him, but she knew Cassian well enough to know his stubbornness rivaled her own.

She flopped down into the cushions, pulling her pillow close to her chest. She reached blindly down her body in search of her quilt as shivers ran through her, letting out a small whimper when she couldn’t reach them. She grimaced at such an outward expression of vulnerability in front of another person.

A quiet chuckle sounded from above her as she felt her quilt being pulled over her legs and body.

“Oh, she’s pitiful, I see.” Mirth danced through each and every word.

She opened one eye, glaring at him through the side of it. He laughed openly at that as he lifted her feet to tuck the quilt beneath him. Only her mother had ever done that for her before today. She felt a pang of longing rush through her chest, but she took a deep breath and pushed it away.

“I’m going to do a quick inventory of supplies. Where’s your medicine cabinet?”

Her eyes were already squeezed shut again, sleep sinking its claws into her consciousness.

“Bathroom,” she muttered into her pillow, before sleep took her once more.

——————————————————————————

She awoke to the jingling of keys in her lock, followed by heavy footsteps and the unmistakable crinkling of plastic bags. Her body tensed, forgetting for a few seconds who was entering her apartment. A deep voice was muttering under its breath, cursing the loudness of the bags as he deposited things on the coffee table.

Lifting her head from her pillow, she glanced over to see Cassian’s massive form hunched over the coffee table as he attempted to quietly unload his haul. He noticed her attention within seconds and greeted her with a broad, friendly smile. Somehow, Nesta didn’t think it was the fever warming her cheeks this time.

“Hey sweetheart,” he whispered, totally unaffected by the glare she shot at him for the nickname. He raised his voice slightly, comparable to a murmur, and she felt herself flush all over again as he kneeled next to her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took your house key off the hook when I went out. I didn’t want to leave it unlocked while I was at the pharmacy, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

She nodded, letting him know she couldn’t give a shit less in her current state. He continued.

“You had some ibuprofen in your cabinet, but that’s about it. I got you some cold & flu meds to help with your other symptoms. It’s acetaminophen-based, so the pharmacist said you can alternate ibuprofen with it to help out with the aches and stuff if you need to.” His eyes scanned her face, making sure he had her attention. She witnessed a faint blush across his tan cheeks, her heart warming at the care he’d taken in selecting medicine for her.

“I also picked up some tissues and cough drops. Oh, and some menthol rub in case you get congested while you sleep. Have you been drinking much water?”

It took her several seconds to realize he was asking a question and that her participation was necessary. All she could offer him was a pathetic shake of her head.

“I figured as much. I got some of this hydration drink to help you rehydrate. I know it’s technically for kids, but I made do with the options I had,” he explained.

“Cassian. You didn’t have to do that,” she started. She watched as something similar to hurt flashed across his features, and she realized her tone hadn’t expressed a shred of gratitude to her lab partner. He was going far beyond the call of duty as her thesis co-investigator, and she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t appreciative.

“That came out wrong. Sorry, I’m all fuzzy. Thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” she supplied.

A small smile graced his face again. “It’s not a problem, Nes. Really,” he replied, as he rested his large hand on her upper arm. His eyes widened suddenly, locking onto her own in alarm.

“You’re burning up,” he stated as he pulled the blanket away from her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, feeling assaulted by the chill that gripped her.

“Your fever feels higher than I thought.” He rested the back of his hand on her forehead. Unsatisfied, he brushed the baby hair away from her face, leaned forward, and pressed his plush lips to the spot his hand had just vacated.

She flinched, not out of offense, but because it was something her mother used to do anytime her, Elain, or Feyre was sick. She claimed it was easiest to tell if the girls were running a fever that way, the lips being far more sensitive than her hands. Nesta wasn’t aware that others grew up doing the same.

Realizing what he’d done and the flinch that immediately followed, Cassian bolted upright with a guilty expression.

“I’m sorry,” he lamented, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just my mom... she used to check my fever like that when I was little. I wasn’t thinking.” He started to move away from her, but her small hand gripped his forearm. His hazel eyes locked on hers, and she watched as he noticed the tears streaming down her face.

“Nes,” he whispered, his brows pulled together in worry.

“No. It’s okay,” she assured him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s just that no one’s done that since... since my mom passed away. Any of this, really.” She gestured to the medicines and other items on her table. “I usually just fend for myself. I think I got a little overwhelmed is all. It’s actually really, really nice to be cared for. Thank you.”

She originally thought her small whimper was as much vulnerability as she was willing to show today. She’d been very wrong, apparently. She blamed it on her fever.

The tension in his shoulders practically melted away from him, his face relaxing back into the friend she knew. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, as he stood to go find her thermometer. He returned with it in hand, looking at her with raised brows as if to say “open.”

She obliged, her eyes crossing as she attempted to read the digital number on the tiny screen. He huffed a laugh at her expense, but he was interrupted by the loud beeping of the thermometer.

“102 degrees. Sorry, Nes, but the blanket has to come off for a little bit. You’re basically cooking in there.”

He pushed a glass of bland electrolytes into her hand, urging her to drink. She took a few small sips and set it softly on the coffee table. She flopped back onto her pillow, pulling her arms tightly around the quilt and hoping to absorb any remaining warmth from it that she could.

Cassian pulled the blanket away from her body but chose wisely not to fight her grip from around it.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he began, as he eased himself to a sitting position on the carpet. “You get some more rest while those meds kick in, and we’ll reassess the fever when you wake up. If it breaks, I’ll give all quilt privileges back.”

He leaned back on the couch cushion near her body, his shoulder blades almost grazing her own as she snuggled into her pillow. She was facing away from him and toward the back of the couch to shield her face from any and all light.

“How am I supposed to get rest when I’m freezing?” she whined pitifully. She couldn’t bring herself to care that she sounded much like a petulant toddler.

At her words, he leaned farther back into the cushion so that their shoulder blades were flush. She felt his laugh rumble through him as a result of their proximity, but more importantly, she felt his body heat seeping into her.

“Does this help at all?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, “but you can’t just sit there forever.”

“I can do what I want, Archeron,” he teased. “Plus, I’m here to work on thesis. I’ve been working on a formula that will populate all of our data entry into their respective graphs without us having to do it manually. I was going to blow your mind with it today, but I’ll settle for fine tuning until you’re coherent next week.” She could hear the smile in his voice and imagined his laptop perched on his long, jean-clad legs as he worked.

Contentment settled through her bones, and she slipped into oblivion once again.

——————————————————————————

Nesta rejoined the land of the living several hours later, she assumed, feeling almost entirely human again. She was still clutching the blanket, thanking her lucky stars for the deep breaths she was able to take in the absence of congestion. Even more noteworthy was the refreshing scent that surrounded her— something like smoky sandalwood and fresh air.

She eased her eyes open, feeling completely mortified at the shift in her position. At some point during her nap, she had rolled toward Cassian and was now wrapped around his shoulders. Her knees were tucked close to his right arm, her torso against his broad back, and most embarrassingly, her face was tucked tightly into the side of his left arm.

She didn’t dare move, hoping she could pretend to be asleep long enough to shift away from him. Delayed by her foggy state, she became aware of a comforting weight resting against her waist. Her eyes moved over his shoulder, glancing down her body. They fell on Cassian’s dozing face, head rested back and angled toward her, as if he’d fallen asleep while checking on her.

Nesta was incredibly aware of their closeness, especially upon realizing his face was less than a foot away from her own. She studied his face, softened by sleep, and let a small grin spread across her face. Cassian had cared for her all afternoon, working on their joint project, and deserved every ounce of sleep he was capturing at the moment. At least, that’s how she justified staying tucked close, afraid to disturb him.

To her horror, his eyes fluttered open, catching her in the act of admiration. Rather than looking off-put or creeped out, he offered her a small smile in return and angled his head even more toward her.

“Feel better?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

“Like a new person, actually.”

He learned forward, repeating his action from earlier in the afternoon. Warmth coursed through her at the feeling of his lips against her temple, noting that they lingered just a bit longer than necessary before he lifted his head.

“I think your fever broke, Nes,” he supplied, twisting his body to rest his arm across her waist as he spoke.

“Good news all around, I guess,” she murmured, her smile still in its rightful place.

He cleared his throat, looking almost sheepish now. It was the most adorable thing Nesta had ever seen.

“I got you some soup earlier. I could heat that up if you want—“ He made to stand as he spoke, but she interrupted by grabbing his forearm.

“Wait. Stay?” She was just as surprised as he was when the words left her. “I don’t think I’m hungry yet.”

His face softened, eyes scanning her for any apprehension at all. Finding none, he smiled down at her in response.

“Of course.”

Before he could settle back onto the carpet fully, she tugged his forearm in a silent request to join her on the couch. He eased behind her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to tug her closer to his body. She relaxed back into him as he nuzzled his nose into her messy braid, just behind her ear.

She couldn’t remember a time where she’d been so comfortable, and she felt another rush of gratitude at being cared for in a way she hadn’t been since her mother died. The feeling wasn’t something she could properly articulate, but it meant the world to her. It almost felt like... love.

Cassian huffed a laugh into her hair, mirth returning to his tone. “I was wondering if I’d get a turn to be big spoon,” he teased. She should have known he wasn’t going to let her pretend she hadn’t wrapped herself around him only a handful of minutes ago.

She chuckled in return, finding that she wasn’t embarrassed by his teasing as she’d originally thought possible.

“I guess it’s only fair,” she joked, as she settled into him just a little more.

He gripped her a fraction tighter, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin behind her ear. She groaned as his arm left her waist, but she stopped it quickly when she realized what he was doing. He was covering her up again, true to his word, and tucking her in tightly. His arm assumed its original position, and a contented sigh left her of its own accord.

“Thank you, again, Cassian. For everything,” she whispered.

His only response was a tight squeeze around her middle before they both eased back into a deep, peaceful sleep.

——————————————————————————

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, please send me an ask, a message, leave a comment, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

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Tags (masterlist + Nessian):

@polireader // @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash // @gisellefigue08 // @maastrash // @superspiritfestival // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @sayosdreams// @ladywitchling // @keshavomit // @over300books // @sleeping-and-books // @welcometothespeaknowworldtour // @drielecarla // @perseusannabeth // @my-fan-side

#nessian #nessian au #nessian fanfic #domestic nessian #nessian fluff #acotar fanfic #twsd writes #twsd fics

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

Text

Title: soon you’ll aim up at the sky and I’ll watch you float away Summary: Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes. No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’. Or, Obi-Wan doesn't do space math but his Padawan does. AN: New part of my light fix-it AU! Written for @thenegoteator.

There were no words to describe how proud Obi-Wan was of Anakin. His apprentice was growing in leaps and bounds, going from being at the bottom of his classes to rising to the very top within just a few months. His determination and ambition were Anakin’s greatest assets. He trained harder than anyone else Obi-Wan knew – besides himself, maybe, but Obi-Wan was also still in the process of switching fighting styles, so he felt like he deserved to be pushing himself to the edge.

Obi-Wan just also, kind of, hated the fact that Anakin’s final exams aligned so well with his own.

He didn’t mind it too much concerning Anakin’s language classes. Those were easy enough to handle. Anakin resented the various High Standard dialects of any given language and had chosen to study the many trader languages spread across the galaxy. His Ryl was better than Obi-Wan’s own, but he took that good-naturedly and let Anakin run circles around him, reciting Ryl chants. It was Anakin’s third language or so – Obi-Wan didn’t know in what order Anakin had learned which language, but Anakin didn’t seem to be too sure about it either.

He had just said that he used to speak it nearly daily on Tatooine and that had settled it. If Anakin didn’t change his language track, he would probably not end up doing many of the diplomacy missions Obi-Wan usually elected to take, but he didn’t mind that either. Anakin was more well suited for the open skies than pompous dining halls.

Anakin’s literature classes were a bit more of a disaster. He was not particularly fond of interpreting texts. Obi-Wan always enjoyed those lessons most, thinking that engaging in such an exchange with authors of the past was the highest form of evaluating the thoughts of an inaccessible period. Anakin preferred biting conversations with his Master or his friends, the kind of quick wit needed for verbal sparring. While some of Anakin’s replies were not the smoothest yet, the words being more appropriate in Huttese as the boy claimed, he was doing well. He was on his way to becoming a suitable companion for tedious negotiations that made somebody to trade snarky comments in the privacy of their rooms with a necessity.

Galactic history was also about as alright as it could be. Anakin was more interested in the Order’s history than that of the Republic, but those usually went hand in hand, so Anakin could get invested enough in a given topic.

Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes.

No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’.

Anakin had said that sentence and a bunch of other very important sounding words while biting his lips in frustration, looking like he was going to start crying in anger any second. Anakin hardly cried, his eyes not even hazing over. Obi-Wan had seen him shed tears maybe once or twice since Anakin had become his apprentice. Anakin called tears a waste and while that was certainly not a mentality Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to keep, he hadn’t quite had the chance yet to address that topic in a meaningful way.

So, instead, he was looking at Anakin’s math paper, sighing.

It really wasn’t like Obi-Wan was going to get any of this. He knew he wouldn’t because he had never taken the elective Theoretical Mathematics of Hyperspace Travel. Obi-Wan took all the courses necessary to get his piloting license and not invested any extra hours into it, especially not within his mathematics track.

Obi-Wan also knew that these kinds of electives were more for senior Padawans and not a pre-teen, but Anakin was also intensely more familiar with ships and droids than most Padawans. Obi-Wan had already given up on attempting to make any sense of Anakin’s level of knowledge when it was all over the place.

Rubbing his eyes, Obi-Wan reached for his tea, enjoying the sweet taste of it. One glance at the chrono told him that Anakin would be back from classes soon. Obi-Wan had meant to read over his paper as a distraction from his own, but, evidently, that hadn’t turned out.

Neither Anakin’s theoretical maths paper nor Obi-Wan’s thesis on the inhumane implications of the Yavin code in light of the end of the New Sith Wars was going to get written or corrected this afternoon.

Obi-Wan felt just a little like dropping his head on the table and taking the day off. Though, perhaps, that really wasn’t such a bad idea. A break from this would maybe clear his head and Anakin…

Anakin would not be happy. He would work himself up because of his frustrations and then Obi-Wan would have to deal with a Padawan too stressed to calm down, which, depending on how his day had gone, would not end so well.

Obi-Wan deliberated whether he should just decide for the both of them that they’d take the day off, but eventually decided against it. Anakin reacted better to all situations if he was given a choice. Knowing that Anakin would be home in ten minutes, Obi-Wan cleared up their living room table and got lunch out of the oven. He had felt like baking today – okay, no, that was a bold-faced lie. He just needed another distraction from his paper and cooking had seemed like a good enough choice – and not like eating in the mess hall.

By the time he had laid the table, the door to their rooms opened and Anakin rushed inside, still full of energy after a morning filled with lessons.

“Obi-Waaaaan, I’m hungry. This smells nice, what’s for lunch?”

Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle, becoming liquid and relying on Obi-Wan to hold him up from beneath his arms.

“I made lasagna,” Obi-Wan said and carried Anakin over to his chair. “Yes, with that cheese you like.”

Anakin’s face lit up and he fist-bumped the air. “Yes!”

Dinner was a loud affair, something Obi-Wan had yet to get used to. Eating with Qui-Gon was always silent while the snack pauses were used for heated debates. Anakin worked exactly the other way round. He wasn’t one for eating quietly or slowly. He told Obi-Wan about his classes, what they had gotten up to, and, of course, the topic of his paper came up.

“Have you finished looking through it?” Anakin asked with big eyes.

Here it was, the moment of truth.

“No,” Obi-Wan replied honestly. “I tried to, but the topic of your paper is nothing I’m really informed on. I checked your grammar but not your calculations.”

“Oh.” Anakin’s face immediately fell. “But I need this paper to be right and I can’t quite figure it out and I don’t want to fail!”

Anakin’s outbursts, when expected, were a lot easier to handle.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, “which is why I thought of two things. One.” He held up his index finger. “The two of us need a break from these papers. I know yours is due soon, but you are smart and one day of not working on it will do you good, so I’d suggest taking the day off. Two, I’m pretty sure there’s a Jedi Master, who can look over this and help you out, coming home tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Anakin blinked. “Who?”

“Master Plo Koon. He’s an excellent pilot and I think you would have a lot of fun talking to him. He’s a Kel Dor.”

“Oh, I know him!” Anakin interrupted, looking a little star-struck.

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected that reaction. “You do?”

“Yeah! He’s in the crèche lots because he brought a Youngling there around the same time I arrived at the temple. Her name’s Ahsoka. She’s gonna be badass someday.”

Anakin enjoyed spending time in the crèche and going by the way he talked, Obi-Wan assumed that little Ahsoka was one of the more talkative kids there with no hesitation about challenging Anakin to a fight. Obi-Wan smiled. “And you know that how?”

“She bit me once,” Anakin replied and nodded as if that explained everything.

He then swallowed the last piece of his meal, not elaborating any further.

This was… nice. Obi-wan had honestly expected this conversation to be more chaotic. Perhaps that said more about his own mental state than it said anything about Anakin’s.

“And what are we gonna do today then?” Anakin asked. “If we’re not working on papers.”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan made a show out of pondering when he had already decided to let Anakin pick a while ago. “Well, where do you want to go?”

There was only one possible reply to that answer.

“Can we go to the markets again?” Anakin said immediately. “We’re running out of sunbeetles and we can visit Dak’lana and maybe get you a new hairpin too?”

Obi-Wan had to smile at Anakin’s genuine excitement. Few things were as comforting as seeing your Padawan happy.

Except, maybe, finishing your thesis.

“That is a wonderful idea,” Obi-Wan told him and watched happily as Anakin ran off to get everything ready for their trip.

Time to wash up and spend money on food and jewelry.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #jedi #fanfic

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palimpsessed · 4 years ago

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Writerly Ephemera

I was tagged by @amywaterwings @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @effing-numpties @captain-aralias @bloodiedpixie . This is so cool, so thanks for sharing yours! ❤️

Per Amy: We add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

I don’t really feel like I put much of my own experiences into my fic, probably because I don’t feel like I have a lot of experiences to pull from. (That’s not me being self-deprecating; that’s me never going anywhere or doing anything.) So, let’s see what we come up with!

Going to tag here. I feel like I’ve gotten to this late so I’m not sure who has been tagged. Anyway. No pressure, loves. Just saying hi. 🥰 @theflyingpeach @bazzybelle @otherworldsivelivedin @unseelieseelie @wetheformidables @caitybug @nightimedreamersworld @foolofabookwyrm @stillmadaboutpetra

1. I have put the most of myself into A Man of Letters. I have my degree in English Lit and when I was in college, I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. So I sort of built my degree around the development of the English novel. My senior thesis was on a book called Evelina by Frances Burney, who was one of Austen’s greatest literary influences. Evelina is an epistolary novel—told entirely in letters. I love the epistolary form, for the same reason I love dialogue and texting fics. It’s such a fun narrative technique and can reveal so much about individual characters. It’s actually a bit like the way Rainbow Rowell uses multi POV in her books. Anyway, my love of the epistle was on full display in this fic, which is ofc told in letters. —Do I share a passage? That’s like...the whole fic 😅 So, idk. Here’s Simon being a disaster as he meditates on letter writing:

Dear Penny,

As I start this letter, I already know I'm not going to post it. I know I won't be able to bring myself to do it, because of what I have to say to you. I do feel bad. It's not that I don't want to tell you. And you know I'm so much better at writing things down than saying them out loud. It's only that I feel like this would all sound better coming from me in person. I just don't think I'll be able to make you understand in a letter. I'm still trying to understand myself. And writing all of this down helps me with that. Even if I'm only pretending to write to you, it makes me feel better, to think of you on the other end. I promise I really will tell you everything as soon as we're together again.

2. Also for A Man of Letters, my fascination with Regency fashions, in particular the dandy, was a major factor. I did an art book about this, comparing how fashion has changed over time, especially in regard to gender. (I also did an art book based on Evelina, since I’m on the subject. I minored in book art. 😁) I always fancied the look of a Regency dandy, so that was my gift to Baz.

Whoever has been working their magic on Salisbury should in fact be the person to whom I offer my eternal devotion. Alas, I am left to flounder under the burden of lusting after a man who is incapable of dressing himself.

The utter and unmitigated shame.

Salisbury wore a forest green wool frock coat that set off the golden highlights in his brown locks. This was accented with a green and aubergine striped silk waistcoat that was trimmed in white piping and felt much too daring a pattern for the man. (I don't care if he was a soldier; it takes a hardier man than him by half to choose a stripe like that.) His charcoal trousers were enticingly snug, but not so much to prove lethal. His cravat and points left much to be desired, though that likely reflected poorly on his ability to keep himself in order, rather than the ability of his valet. (Good God, maybe the man doesn't even have a valet!)

3. When it came to my countdown fic, To the Manor Borne, I had Shep make a reference to Cluedo, because Pitch Manor would be perfect for a real life game. Behind that, is the fact that my family played a lot of Clue and I watched the movie a whole bunch growing up, to the point where my sister and I used to quote it to each other. This was a way to pay homage to that. He also talks about playing the game Murder in the Dark, which was one I played at Halloween as a kid. One of my cousins was dressed as a ghoul with glow in the dark face paint and we were in my grandma’s creepy upstairs. Perfect vibes.

I’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room and the library and the study and the parlor. Walking through this house is like playing Clue. (They call it Cluedo on this side of the pond, because they like to be difficult.) (That was a whole thing. Do not get me started.)

I keep thinking Colonel Mustard’s going to pop up out of nowhere and brain me with a lead pipe.

And:

What kind of games do you play with magickal friends who don't have magic? Twister? Not with the wings and tail. Cards? Baz and Penny would cheat. Or accuse everyone else of cheating if they didn't win. Murder in the dark? With these people, in this house, I knew it would turn literal fast, and also it was like ten in the morning. Hide and seek? Simon and I would hide and everyone else would ditch. Snowball fight? World War III.

4. I’ve referenced Mozart in my fics a couple of times because when I was first getting into classical music, I was listening to a lot of Mozart. My sister had a CD of some of his early symphonies, and my local classical station does “Mozart in the Mornings” which happened to fit in the exact time slot between two morning classes I had my first year in college. I’d go sit in my car with a cup of tea, and just vibe with Mozart as my soundtrack. I’ve name dropped him in both A Man of Letters and To the Manor Borne. Also, Mozart wrote 12 variations on the melody shared by Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which is a lovely tie in. (I also had the gang sing/cast The Holly and the Ivy, which is one of my favorite Christmas carols, and by strange coincidence was playing on the radio at the same time I wrote that scene. 🥰)

"It's a songbook," I tell him, like he can't figure that out for himself. "Did you know that Mozart wrote twelve different versions of the same song?"

He's laughing. "Mozart did not write Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Simon."

"You know what I mean."

"He composed twelve variations for solo piano on the French folk melody Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman."

"Sure. Anyway, this is for the violin. For you to play."

He's still laughing, and I'm trying to figure out what's so funny, but then he kisses me again, on the lips this time, so I figure maybe I'm still doing okay.

Only one more to go! What will it be? 👀

5. Therapy! Eheheh...😅 Look, it’s no secret the gang needs it. And tbh, so do I. Haven’t actually managed to get myself to go yet, and I think that’s where a lot of my “send them to therapy” happy endings come from. I did it in Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne. I started Chamber by Chamber with SnowBaz already in therapy, and then structured the whole thing around therapy that they give to each other and to themselves. It didn’t really fit in A Man of Letters, but if it had, I absolutely would have done it. I’ve only shared from two fics so far, and since it could kind of spoil the ending to Use Your Words (tho saying this may be spoiler anyway...), here are two snippets from It’s a Kind of Magic, Part I of Chamber by Chamber.

I've been working on articulating my needs. We both have. Ordinarily, I'd be afraid of pushing him away by making demands when he's on the verge of a spiral, but my therapist insists that I can't go on treating Simon with kid gloves. If I never ask him for anything, he'll think he doesn't have anything to give.

And

When I told that to my therapist, she said that I needed to talk it out of me and she'd help me find ways to work through it all. She said I needed to talk it out with Baz, too, so that he'd know how to help me when things got bad again—that was something else she said, that things would get bad again, and that I'd need to be prepared for that. That I couldn't expect things to be easy, and just go away.

6. BONUS! I think the biggest way I include bits of myself is in the AUs I’ve chosen to write. I have three I’m planning that say a lot about me, so I’m going to talk a bit about them here. There is ofc my Scooby Doo AU, inspired in large part by the fact that I watched it all the time growing up and also, my sister continues to be obsessed with it. When we were young, my parents were doing a lot of work on their house and we’d take family trips to the hardware store. My sister and I hated it, so we’d wait in the car with my mom and she would entertain us with “Scooby Doo stories”. Other AUs I’m planning? Troop Beverly Hills—please tell me someone else out there loved this movie the way I did when I was 5. It was very influential to baby me and I remember wishing for nothing more than being able to dress like Shelley Long. So, I’m going to let Baz do it, because I think he deserves it. 🥰 Lastly, tho it will probably be the first I write, is my Cupid and Psyche AU, from when I was heavy into mythology and religion. Since these are all forthcoming projects, I don’t really have a snippet. Instead, here’s Baz comparing Simon to Eros, which is what started my brain on that particular AU.

I am lost. I barely know anything about Salisbury, but I can't help being drawn in. At one time, I could have comforted myself that I was only so smitten with him because he looks like he was sculpted by Praxiteles. That excuse grows weaker with every encounter. He's the furthest thing from a lifeless tribute to beauty in marble as one can be. There is something deep and dark and feral inside of him and I want to claw it out. I want to see it, to let it free. To taste his wildness and his pain.

#tag game #writerly ephemera

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xaphrin · 4 years ago

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Maybe I wasn’t going to use my hand.

Raven woke from her dream with a start, the book on her chest sliding down to the floor with a smack. Afternoon sunlight slid through the crack in her curtains, and delicate, dulcet tones of Bach were playing softly from the speaker on her nightstand. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she lay on her bed, carefully shifting her still-injured leg as she tried to wipe the cobwebs from her memory. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her mind felt like it was racing as she tried to both remember and forget the dream she just had.

Deep, olive skin pressed against her own.

Soft, dark hair.

Even softer lips…

...buried between her thighs.

Raven groaned and she shifted her legs under the covers, biting the inside of her cheek. Her skin felt tight and itchy, like she needed to be touched or she might split open and all of her secrets would come spilling out. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching for the book on the floor. She couldn’t let the dream rile her up like that. She had far too many things to be thinking about - her senior thesis, her grad school application, her finals in two weeks. Sex was not one of the things she needed to be thinking about right now. Especially not sex with Damian.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair and opened up her book, her eyes becoming unfocused as she tried to read the words on the page. Her body hummed, reminding her that it had been a long, long time since she felt the sweet release of orgasm. Of that bone-deep exhaustion that left her feeling like fog drifting on a still pond.

No. She had important things to think about. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, but her body pulsed again, so eager for something it was almost painful. Raven’s resolve felt weak, and with an embarrassed flush she fumbled in her nightstand drawer and pulled out her small vibrator. She turned it onto its lowest setting and shoved it under the covers and under her clothes, pressing it against her clit.

Oh. Yes. That was exactly what she needed.

Raven sucked in a soft breath and settled back against her pillows, closing her eyes as she felt the sweet, sharp pressure build inside her. Immediately, her mind was suddenly filled with all the images of her mid-afternoon dream. Damian’s too-green eyes watching her as his tongue traced her, lapped her up, enjoyed making her squirm. He bit her thighs, hummed his pleasure, told her how fucking good she tasted. He curled his fingers inside her and pumped with quick, hard, angled strokes that left her feeling utterly breathless. Her neck against the pillows and Raven sighed again, turning the vibrator up a little higher, clenching her teeth as pleasure continued to radiate through her.

She wished she could say this was the first time she had a sex dream about Damian, but it wasn’t. This was a dirty little secret she could barely admit to herself. She had been having these dreams for years, but only since their date last week that the dreams had started coming with more frequency and vibrancy. This last one was vivid, and it made her feel like she’d lost control of everything, until all she wanted was to tumble into Damian’s bed and let him fuck her into oblivion. Raven reached over and turned up her speaker a little louder, Bach now drowning out the sound of her vibrator.

Raven thought back to their kiss, and let go of another sigh, her stomach tightening. He tasted like the wine from the restaurant and mint chapstick, and she realized she could have spent all night kissing him. He was stupidly good at it, and he tasted delicious. She bit into her lower lip and slid a hand under her shirt, her fingers teasing her nipple and imagining it was Damian’s hand on her breast. It hadn’t been the fumbling touches she had gotten used to from her previous boyfriends, but something sure and possessive. It felt as though he branded her as his and his alone.

I want to make you come.

Raven pinched her nipple and her back arched as she felt electricity pool beneath her belly button and deep between her thighs. Her breath was short and shallow, and she could feel the siren’s call her release tightening in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t feel like any time she’d masturbated before. This felt like something wholly different. She swallowed a low moan and clicked the vibrator up as high as it would go, leaving her twisting underneath the sheets, letting the sensation take her off this plane of existence and somewhere else. Her skin was slick with sweat, her breath short and staccato, and her mind was filled with every image of Damian she could conjure. His eyes, his smirk, his too-full lips, his low voice, his hands on her body, and-

Raven came suddenly and without warning, barely muffling her moan with the back of her hand. Her whole body seized up as she lay there and let wave after wave of pleasure pull her deeper and deeper underwater. Colors seemed bright and sounds scraped against her skin, her senses muddled and messy. Finally spent, she lay there, drenched with sweat and twitching, but actually satiated for the first time in months. Her hand fumbled for the off switch, and she turned off the vibrator, letting herself bask in the afterglow of her orgasm.

Holy hell.

It took a few moments for her thoughts to congeal back in her head, but she felt… good. Far too good. She sighed and stared at her ceiling, her mind remembering their date and flicking through the moments we spent together. It would have been easy to continue to dislike him if he’d been the jerk she always expected him to be, but he wasn’t. He was surprisingly sweet in his own way, almost charming, and damn if he wasn’t a good kisser. He played her like a finely-tuned instrument, and she loved it.

Raven sighed and pushed at her hair, chewing on her lower lip as she thought for a few, long minutes. This was not how her senior year was supposed to go - falling for her arch-rival. Who she was pretty sure wanted to sleep with her, and she definitely wanted to sleep with him.

A knock came from her door, shaking her out of her thoughts.

Raven sat up, trying to shove her hair back into a bun so she didn’t look like she’d just been masturbating. She cleared her throat and called out. “Come in?”

The door opened to reveal Damian with a stack of papers and a bag from her favorite burger place on the other side of town. She felt embarrassment darken her face, as though he could somehow sense that she’d just been pleasuring herself to thoughts of him. She tugged at her shirt and adjusted the blankets over her legs, feeling her vibrator rest against her thigh. Damnit. At least it was still off, so he wouldn’t have any idea of what had been happening in her room just minutes ago.

Without her consent, her stomach growled furiously, but he just laughed and walked in, closing the door behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?”

Raven tried not to look guilty, and she shrugged. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw Donna in the Rec and she mentioned you hadn’t been able to get on campus for a while, so I picked up your papers from your American Lit class and your Baroque Lit class. I wasn’t sure if you needed any of it for your senior thesis.” He shrugged and handed her the papers. “And I grabbed notes from a classmate for you. And lunch for you too.”

Raven blinked as he set the papers down next to her, and the bag of food on her nightstand. There was a long, slow pause before she spoke. “Who are you, and what did you do to Damian?”

He lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Would you rather I treat you with cold indifference? Because I will gladly eat that burger-”

Raven snatched the bag off the nightstand and glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He let go of a low chuckle and sat at the edge of her bed, glancing around her room. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

“I can see that.” She reached into the bag and shoved a fry into her mouth, never looking away from him. “I just don’t understand what would make you stoop so low.”

He shrugged, but she could see a shadow in his eye, as if there was something he was trying to keep secret from her. “You told me to keep making you change your mind. So… here I am, trying not to make your life a living hell.”

“That’s so kind of you.” She ate another fry. “But I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. You want something, don’t you?”

There was a long pause and Damian sighed in defeat, casting a sideways glance at her. “I need an out.”

Raven unwrapped the burger and took a bite. Heaven. He even knew how she liked her burger? Who was this man and how did he know her so well? She wiped at her mouth with a napkin and pitched forward an inch, her eyes searching his profile. “Sounds suspiciously like you need a favor.”

“I… might have told my father that I was helping an injured friend to avoid going to a gala tonight.” He scratched at his chin and glanced away. “Father said send proof.”

“You want to take a picture of me and my sprained ankle to get out of a gala?” She took another bite and chewed slowly, watching him through narrowed eyes. If she had only known this burger came with caveats, she would have never eaten it. Maybe. Raven swallowed, still staring at him. “And you’re trying to bribe me with food and kind gestures.”

“Just the food, actually.” Damian shrugged. “The kind gesture really is to get you to change your mind about me.” He smirked and leaned closer to her, meeting her stare. “As long as it works.”

Raven watched him for another long moment before rolling her eyes and sighing in defeat. “Fine. You can take a couple pictures. But you owe me. And I don’t want your family to start thinking we’re dating or anything.”

“I wouldn’t dare subject you to that shame.” He laughed and rearranged the books on her lap and easing her sprained ankle out from under the covers. He propped up her foot with a pillow and rearranged a few things, making it look like she was desperately needing his help, before taking a picture. “Ah. Looks good. You look so helpless and buried in homework.”

She narrowed her eyes. “The entire Wayne family better not think I’m some helpless, vapid sorority girl.”

He picked up a particularly thick book on her lap and snorted, looking at the title. “Not with these kinds of books surrounding you.”

Raven watched as he moved to the other side of her bed and sat down next to her, resting against the headboard like he was helping her out with her homework before taking a selfie of both of them. There was some clicking as he wrote a message, and then he sent it off to his father. Damian looked down at her with a teasing smile, but didn’t move off the bed. He looked content enough to sit there forever, and Raven was inclined to let him. As silly and foolish as that sounded to her.

“There. Now, he stays off my back, and I owe you a favor.”

“A favor from a Wayne is like a golden ticket.” Raven reached for her unfinished food and glanced over at him. This felt intimate, the warmth of his body pressed against her own, while the soothing sound of Bach filled the small space between them. Her heart climbed into her throat and beat out an increasingly frantic rhythm, as Raven realized she had no idea how to handle this. The last time he was in her room, they ended up making out on this very same bed and he told her he wanted to make her come. She shivered and closed her eyes, trying to keep her mind from wandering.

“The frat is throwing a party after finals.” Damian picked up a book and paged through it, as if he suddenly needed something to do with his hands. “You should come and hang out. Hopefully your ankle will be all good by then.”

She shrugged, picking at her food. “Sure. I know Donna and Karen will be there.”

Damian nodded, and there was another long stretch of silence between them. He fidgeted with the book, and Raven could feel the tension start to spike between them. There was something building inside him, and this forced silence was only going to make it worse.

Raven sighed and gave him a flat stare. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Because this awkward silence is starting to freak me out, and I don’t know what you want.”

Damian searched her eyes for a long moment, leaning over towards her side of the bed. Oh. Oh. With a mental slap to herself, Raven realized that he was moving towards her as if he wanted to kiss her again, and she desperately wanted to return it. The back of his knuckles slid along the line of her jaw, and she found herself tilting her face up towards him, closing her eyes and waiting for the world to stop. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to do far more than kiss, but she’d let herself be content with just this.

He moved closer to her, the sound of her covers shifting mingling with Bach. She could feel his heat and smell his soap, and it all felt too real and too much. Damian leaned over her, his thigh pressing against hers through the blanket, and-

The room was suddenly filled with a very distinct hum.

Her vibrator.

He accidentally turned her vibrator on.

Raven froze, as if she thought she might be able to disappear into the floorboards in order to escape this moment. Damian pulled back, pressing his lips together as he fought back a laugh. Raven reached beneath the covers and found the vibrator, fumbling to turn it off before she shoved it back into her nightstand drawer. Heat stained her face and Raven sunk down into the bed, pulling the covers up over her head, hoping he could just forget all of this.

“So…” Damian’s voice was low and teasing. “I have about forty very curious questions.”

“Please shut up.” Raven wrapped the blanket tighter over her head and groaned. “Can you just… go away and let me die in peace?”

“If you want.”

She could feel Damian moving off the bed, taking a moment to gather his things. The door opened, but he didn’t step out. A second passed and Raven stole a glance over the edge of her blanket to see him standing there, staring at her with a bemused smile on his face.

“You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Raven buried her head back under the covers. “Please. Just go away.”

She heard him walking back to her, and felt the press of his lips against her head through the blanket. Heat filled her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend that none of this was happening.

“Next time let me know…” Damian’s voice was pitched sinfully low, like a warning rumble of thunder. “...I’ll be more than happy to help.”

Raven’s eyes slammed open, and she sat there, frozen under her blanket, listening as he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. A whole, silent minute passed as she let his words slide over her again, burying deep into her brain.

Wait.

What?

#damirae #demonbirds #college au #in which we finally get to ADULT NONSENSE #and then it just gets increasingly awkward from there.#thanks for being so patient for me

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years ago

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October Contest Submission #1: The Case of the Third Date

Words: ca. 4,900 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: creepy basements?

•

Wednesday

“Would you ladies be interested in any dessert?”

I opened my mouth and looked at my date across the table from me. Her blue eyes looked as shocked as mine as we tried to telepathically communicate our answers to each other. Everything seemed to go quiet around us, forks clanging against plates became muted, conversations muffled. Why was the dessert question always somehow unexpected? This was the end of a meal in a restaurant; dessert logically follows. But it was only our second date, would it be weird to have dessert together? I was still hungry enough to eat it, but was Elsa? Maybe she didn’t have as big of an appetite as me - she was so petite. My stomach grumbled. Chocolate cake did sound pretty nice, actually… Maybe I should go out on a limb here. Since our attempted telepathic connection hadn’t succeeded (we had only met three days ago, after all), I cleared my throat.

“Could we actually have a minute to look at the dessert menu?”

“Of course.”

The mute button un-clicked, and the sounds of the restaurant around us crescendoed up to its normal volume.

I let out a small laugh and looked at Elsa. She smiled in relief.

“Thanks for saving us. I never know what to say.”

“I know! Why is that so awkward?” I laughed. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I’d actually be down for some cake. Wanna share?”

“As long as it’s chocolate,” Elsa smiled.

“Perfect!” We were dessert-compatible. Yet another sign that this relationship had room to bloom.

So far, I hadn’t found a single thing about Elsa that I didn’t like. On our first date the other day I learned that she was even more beautiful in person than in her photos on the dating app. I also learned that she was new to town and definitely got some quiet, introverted, creative vibes from her. But we only went to a movie and got ice cream, so we didn’t get to know each other much that night.

Tonight however, we’ve been delving a little deeper! I had told her all about my little detective work side-job I did in the campus library. I would be available to take new cases if anyone showed up while I was in the basement study room working on my senior thesis.

She thought that was Pretty Neat, if I do say so myself! I had sent up a silent thank you to my beloved grandpa, who was a retired detective when I grew up - every time I visited his house, he would set up a little mystery for me to unravel.

But enough about me, Jesus! It was what I learned about Elsa that had my attention at dinner. The conversation started a little like this.

“I have to confess,” she said. “I’ve never been on a second date before.”

“Are you shitting me?” I dropped the fried onion I was holding.

A smile glistened in Elsa’s eyes at the phrase. “No, I’m not… shitting you.”

I composed myself. “Sorry. Language, I’m working on that,” I laughed. “But, uh, what do you mean you’ve never been on a second date? All your dates have been terrible, or you just don’t really date?”

“Oh, where do I begin?” Elsa laughed, straightening her posture and stabbing an appetizer bite with her fork. “The beginning, I suppose.”

“Always a good place to start,” I smiled.

“Right. Well, growing up, I never liked any of the boys the way the other girls did — and no one told me that there was another option. So, I just thought dating would never be for me.”

I nodded in understanding as she continued.

”I had no idea I was gay until college, and even then, I knew it wasn’t safe for me to be out in my hometown. I didn’t want to put the burden of a secret relationship on anyone, so I just never tried to date until I graduated and moved out.”

“Wait…” I interrupted. “When you say ‘moved out,’ you mean how you moved here? Two weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

“So you had never been on a date until this month.”

“That’s right,” Elsa said. “I moved into my big empty house, and immediately felt so lonely — so, so lonely — I made a dating profile and went on dates with three girls in three days, and they all went horribly. So I waited a few days, then I matched with you and had a really good time the other day, and — well, you know the rest.”

“Wow,” I said in amazement. I was the fourth person she’d ever been on a date with. I suddenly felt the importance of treating her so well, so good, so right, that she would soon forget all those bad dates she had last week.

I picked up another appetizer bite and held it out for Elsa to clink against with her own. “To loneliness,” I said. “It brought us together, and with any luck, we’ll never face it again.”

Elsa grinned as we popped the bites into our mouths at the same time.

“But seriously,” I said, “you should get a dog. Wait— are you a cat or a dog person?”

Elsa shrugged with a sheepish expression on her face. “I wouldn’t really know. I’ve never had a pet.”

“You’ve never—?”

“My dad’s allergic to their fur; we never had any animals in the house. But I would’ve done anything for a pet. I love animals! Just… don’t have much experience with them.”

I let that new information sink in for a minute. “Alright. We can work with that. I’ll make sure you’re a dog person if it’s the last thing I do.”

•

Thursday

Feeling my eyelids droop wasn’t enough to alert me that I was getting too tired to continue my studies for the night, but when I had to jerk my head back up after it started sinking forward, then I knew. I slowly started closing books and putting my papers back in their binder. No one had visited me tonight for a case, but that was just as well. My mind was a little consumed at the moment - for the same reason I didn’t get much sleep the previous night. All I could think about was Elsa.

Our date the night before was just so perfect - she was just so perfect. With her soft smile and gentle eyes, she felt like exactly the person I needed to get to know. I could only hope she felt the same about—

Knock knock.

I looked at the door in surprise.

Speak of the… “Elsa!”

“Hey,” she said, shyly. “Sorry, I see that you’re packing up.”

“Oh, never mind that,” I said. “I was just feeling a bit drowsy, but I’m wide awake now, trust me.”

Elsa grinned. “Lovely. Well, I just wanted to stop by really quick. And don’t get me wrong — last night was … just perfect, but I’m not here to rush us into a third date or anything. I actually, uh…” she fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. “I could actually use your sleuthing skills?”

Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. “Really? You have a case for me?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Or — well, I don’t really know what I have, exactly. But I think you could help.”

She sounded sincere, but almost ashamed while she spoke, like she believed herself but thought someone else would laugh. I motioned for her to continue. “Can you start from the beginning?” I asked. “Oh! And, let’s move to the bean bags; they’re much more comfortable.”

I grabbed my pen and notebook, and plopped down on one of the oversized bean bag chairs in the corner. She joined me, but sat herself down much more gently than I had.

“So, the story begins with my move,” Elsa said. “Shortly after I graduated college in the spring, my grandmother died, and she left me… a lot of money. She loved me more than she loved my parents, and I knew they’d be upset that they didn’t receive the same kind of check. They’ve always been the jealous type. So, after tying up my loose ends all summer, I packed up everything and started to drive. After driving for a full day, I ended up here. I only intended on staying one night in the hotel, but I drove past this house for sale that I couldn’t stop thinking about. The next day, instead of heading out to drive farther, I drove to the house again, and called the realtor. They hadn’t had any interest in the house, so they literally met me there in an hour. Long story short, I was moving in three days later.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s unbelievable — I’ve never heard of a house closing so fast, and being move-in ready.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was exactly move-in ready,” Elsa winced. “It’s a bit of a fixer upper, to tell you the truth. But I could see its potential, and I still do! I just need to figure out… what it is that’s in there with me.”

I blinked. I repeated her last sentence in my head. I did it again. “…What’s in there with you…” I echoed.

“Yes,” Elsa fidgeted with her car keys. “Ever since I moved in I’ve been, uh, experiencing things.”

“I’m,” my mouth went dry. “I’m not that kind of detective…”

“I’m not saying it’s haunted,” she rushed. “I’m not saying I believe in ghosts, or that I assume you do. Trust me. I just can’t figure out what’s going on, and I think I’m going insane. I need help.” Her voice shook.

She was being dead-serious.

“Okay,” I said, slowly, with concern. “Tell me what you’ve been experiencing.” I opened my notebook to a new page, ready to write down everything she said. “We’ll start from there.”

Elsa let out a sigh of relief, I assume because I hadn’t chased her out at the mere mention of possible ghost activity. “Well, the very first night I stayed there, it started.”

“And that was… last…?”

“Last Monday,” she said. “I moved everything I had into the house that afternoon, and set myself up in the master bedroom — that’s the only bedroom that’s close to being functional at the moment. I tried to fall asleep around nine, but the wind was really howling against the old shutters. It was just a bit creepy to hear in the dark. So I was laying in bed when I heard a big sound from somewhere else in the house, maybe toward the living room.”

“What did the noise sound like?” I asked.

“Like… stuff falling, I guess. Nothing distinct. I got up to check on my other things I left in the living room, to see if anything had fallen over. Nothing had. It was all just how I’d left it. So, I went back to bed.”

“You didn’t look in any of the other rooms?”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. The house is filled with old junk that could have shifted and fallen, and I wouldn’t have known the difference by looking at it. So that’s what I chalked the sound up to be.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“Not long after I got comfortable in bed again, I heard another noise. A terrible s..scraping, scratchy sound. It stopped after a minute, but by that point I was a little freaked out. I stayed in bed, and eventually fell asleep purely out of exhaustion. But then I was woken up around three in the morning, by the feeling of something pressing down on my leg through the covers.”

My eyes widened.

“I jolted upright, kicked my leg around, fumbled for my phone to get my flashlight on… but when I got the light to work, I was all alone. There was nothing there.”

I tried to appear less shocked than I was. “Well, that certainly sounds like a …less than ideal first night.”

“I was pretty terrified,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can only imagine how scary that must’ve been. And still is, right? This stuff is still going on?”

Elsa nodded, breathing a little heavy from the retelling. “I stopped sleeping in the bedroom after that. There’s a couch in the living room, where I feel a little less, uh, trapped. But I still hear weird sounds all night, and even feel the touches in my sleep every once in a while. I’ve still never caught sight of any … spirit, or anything when that happens. Even with the nightlight I had to buy. Like I’m a child.” She sighed.

“Hey,” I reached out and placed my hand on her thigh for a moment before second guessing the gesture and pulling my hand back. “You’re not a child, and you’re not acting like one, either. You are so brave for coming to this random city all alone and — and buying a fucking house! And being there by yourself, and trying to meet new people. Give yourself a break, Elsa. You’re doing amazing. And I’m going to help you figure this out.”

“Thank you, Anna. Really,” she said. “When do you think you could come check things out?”

“I would say tonight, right now, but I have an eight A.M. tomorrow…” I thought for a moment. “How about we do it tomorrow night, but, and I can’t stress this enough, you come sleep in my dorm room tonight.”

“What? No, I couldn’t—”

“I really mean it, Elsa,” I said in a stern voice. “I know we barely know each other yet, so it might get weird. But I don’t want you going back there tonight. It’s already late, and you’ve already dealt with enough scary nights there. I don’t know what you’re dealing with yet; I really don’t think it’s a ghost, but Jesus Christ what if it is? Or whatever it is, I won’t sleep knowing you could be in danger there. Now, come with me.”

•

Friday

The next morning, Elsa and I got breakfast together in the dining hall before I had to split for class. It had actually worked out well; my roommate didn’t have class this Friday, so she had left for the weekend yesterday afternoon. Elsa felt a little weird sleeping in her bed but I promised that Honey Maren wouldn’t mind.

I wasn’t sure what Elsa’s plans were for the day, but we were meeting up that night at eight to go to her house.

My day flew by. The classes I had were easy and quick, then I spent the afternoon at a Halloween event in the university center. There was free food, pumpkin carving, and — Elsa! Yeah, she was there, too. We worked on a pumpkin together, and made a pretty damn good team.

Before we knew it, it was seven o’clock, and we figured we might as well head over to her house since we were already together.

The drive was quiet, but not awkward. Which is weird for me, as I usually hate silence - but with Elsa behind the wheel I was free to focus myself on what we were about to do. I really didn’t know what to expect, but I was leaning toward something physical, obviously, whether it was some mechanical piece of junk in the house, or a raccoon living in the walls. But the raccoon option honestly freaked me out more than if it would turn out to be an actual haunting.

When we reached her house, even in the dusk, I immediately knew what Elsa saw in the place. It was old, two stories with a beautiful wrap-around porch, and intricate architectural details. Its beauty was at its peak this time of year, in late October, because of the huge maple tree in the yard which was casting its yellow to orange to red leaves all over the grass and pathways.

“Wow,” I said, simply.

“Yeah,” Elsa smiled. “I still can’t believe it’s mine. But I’ll feel better about it once I’m not terrified of the inside.”

We made our way in the front door. Immediately, I could see why Elsa was more comfortable in the living room. It was sort of an open floor plan with a high ceiling, so it would be hard to feel trapped in here. There was a lot of clutter though; she wasn’t wrong about the junk that was filling the house.

She turned on a lamp and we settled on the couch. To my dismay, it was very stiff and decorative.

“This is the couch you’ve been sleeping on for days?” I asked.

“Yes,” Elsa said. “It was the better option, trust me. But I’d love to get a good night’s sleep in the bedroom, once we figure this out.”

“Right,” I said. “We’re going to figure it out, Elsa. But for now, I guess we wait.”

Feeling bold, I took her hand in mine and held it on my leg. Her skin was cold to the touch, just the opposite of my hands, which were usually warm, and a bit clammy to be honest.

I gently stroked her hand with my thumb, and realized just how soft her skin was. I heard Elsa’s breath hitch and I turned to glance at her face.

“Is this okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “You’re so warm. It’s… it’s nice.”

My heart leapt. She liked my warmth.

“You know, Elsa?” I said. “Being with you feels so right. I don’t know the last time I’ve felt like this around …anyone.” Certainly not over Hans. Maybe Kristoff, but it didn’t last.

“I’m glad you feel it, too,” she said. “I know I don’t really have experience with close relationships, but if they feel like this? I guess I see what all the fuss is about.”

I smiled, and felt my one dimple showing. “Trust me. Not all relationships feel like this. This is so… easy. Natural, and — well, you feel like home.” I looked away. “Jesus, that sounds cheesy.”

“No,” Elsa defended. “I know what you mean, and I agree. You feel like home to me, too, and that’s so comforting now that I’m so far from mine. I know we’ve only been on two dates… although, today is feeling kind of…”

“Third datey?” I suggested.

Elsa laughed. “Yeah, it feels a bit third datey. But we should have a real third date soon — once we make it out of here alive.”

“Oh Elsa, that’s a little dramatic. Nothing has even happened ye—”

A huge crash interrupted me, as if it was waiting for the most perfectly timed moment. We leapt to our feet.

“It came from that way, right?” I pointed toward the hall.

“Yeah!” Elsa said. “That’s where a lot of it comes from. There’s a door to the basement there and it’s locked.”

“What do you mean?” I asked while I made my way toward the sound.

“The door’s locked; I haven’t been able to open it with any of the keys I was given.”

“So you’ve never been down to your own basement? And that’s where the noises come from? Elsa! That’s some key information you neglected to tell me!”

“Sorry,” she said. “I- I forgot. I try not to think about what’s down there.”

I reached the door. The handle was definitely locked, but looked simple. I pulled a bobby pin out of my hair and picked the lock like I’d done it a hundred times. Well, I had, actually, but I usually just practiced on my own locks. It felt nice to succeed in front of Elsa…

But enough showing off; it was time to see what was behind the door. I took a deep breath and checked my flashlight. It shone brightly.

“I’m going down,” I said. “I want you to stay up here.”

“Anna—“

“Please,” I continued. “It’s not about bravery — although I am a proud Gryffindor — I just want you here so if I need something quick, you can grab it from up here.”

I saw the logic working behind Elsa’s eyes, and it won out. “Alright,” she conceded. “But be careful. I have no idea what it’s like down there.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

With that, I opened the door and found a light switch just inside. A single yellow bulb lit up, whose dim light left something to be desired. I pointed my flashlight down the stairs, and began my descent.

“Ugh! It reeks down here!” I called, coughing into my sleeve.

I picked up my pace down the stairs. I always hated those wooden staircases without backboards — it constantly felt like something was about to reach through and grab my ankles. When my feet hit the cement floor, I felt relief ripple through me.

Shining my flashlight around, I saw a large unfinished space with various dust-laden configurations of junk. Some did look more recently disturbed than others, like they had shifted and collapsed into a new form.

Taking a squat, I looked closely at the grunge on the smooth cement floor.

“Oh!”

I stood up. I knew exactly what was going on here, but where…? I spun around, flashing my light everywhere.

I let out a small, “Pspspsps.”

I lifted a dusty canvas sheet. No luck.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

I waited.

“…Meep,” came from behind me.

I spun around to face the direction of the sound.

“Pspspsps, here kitty!”

“Mew!”

I bent down and whispered, “There you are, little one. Come here, don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid, here kitty kitty.”

A small black cat hesitantly emerged from a pile of dusty blankets. “Mew?”

“Aww, there you are. You’re covered in cobwebs, come here.” I gathered the young cat into my arms. He didn’t object too much, and seemed to like being petted softly between his ears. “Let’s get you upstairs, little guy.”

Soon I was climbing the stairs.

Elsa was still standing anxiously at the top. “Anna! Is everything okay? Did you find—?”

“I found something alright! And he’s no ghost,” I said, climbing closer to the lightbulb so she could see what I was holding.

Elsa gasped. “A cat?!”

“Yeah!” I said. “He’s a little nervous, but friendly enough. He’s been living down there, knocking things over, making a mess… but I think he could also access the upstairs, maybe through a vent or something. It would explain all the crashes, scratching sounds, and even the feeling of being touched. You wouldn’t have been able to see him in the shadows since—”

“Since he’s a little black cat, oh my god. It all makes sense,” Elsa said. “I can’t believe I never thought of an animal. That’s so obvious.”

“Hey, give yourself a break. You were super freaked out, and that’s when our mind goes to the freakiest kinds of answers.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, reaching to pet the cat.

“Wanna hold him?” I asked. “He’s a little dirty but… actually seems to like being held.”

“Okay,” she hesitated, “I’m not used to holding cats.”

“There’s lots of ways to hold a cat; it’s easy!” I said. “Make your arm into kind of a shelf there, good, now use your other hand to scoop him up — yep, under his chest — and hold him close to your body, letting his feet feel that he’s on your arm shelf. Yeah, you got it!”

Elsa laughed softly. “Yeah! That’s not so bad, huh, little guy?”

I closed the basement door behind me.

“Well,” I said. “It would seem the case has been cracked! I should probably get going…”

“What do you mean?” Elsa asked. “It’s late, and I drove you here. Do you want to just stay over? Or, I mean, I’ll drive you back to campus if you want, but you can’t just walk.”

“I don’t want you to drive me back, that’d be silly. Um, not trying to be rude, but where would I sleep? If I stayed over, I mean.” I didn’t think I’d be able to stand sleeping on that couch.

Elsa looked nervous. “Well, now we know there’s nothing wrong with the bedroom. I was planning on switching to the bed right away, and — well. It’s a huge bed.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Are we seriously about to do the fanfiction trope?”

“What are you talking about?”

I laughed, then dramatically said, “Oh no! It looks like there’s only one bed! Whatever will we do? I suppose we’ll have to… share it. Wink wink…”

“I guess we’re doing the trope, then,” Elsa laughed. “But it doesn’t have to be weird. We haven’t even been on a third date yet. Or, well I suppose tonight really has been our third date, hasn’t it?”

“I think you’re probably right,” I smiled. “A pretty successful one so far, and much more exciting than any third date I’ve been on!”

“Yeah, why doesn’t everyone have their detective girlfriend come to their potentially haunted home and help them accidentally become a new pet owner on their third date?”

“I have no idea, but they’re missing out,” I said, still smiling. It was so nice to banter back forth with Elsa. I felt that I had known her for much longer than … five, six days.

“Hey, now that you’re staying,” Elsa began, “do you want to watch a movie? It’s not really late enough to sleep.”

“Sure! Do you already have your TV set up?”

“Oh definitely. I’ve been self-medicating my fear with Netflix since like, day two.”

“Gotcha! Well, at least there’s nothing to worry about now. In fact, I’m kind of sad I didn’t get much of a thrill from being scared. Do you want to watch a horror movie?” I asked.

“Only if we keep the lamp on, and only if you’ll hold me,” Elsa said.

“I think I can handle that.”

•

Ten Months Later

“I think this is the last one!” I yelled when I stepped inside the front door and set a box down next to a dozen others on the floor. I would be all moved in before we knew it!

A voice came from the kitchen, “Oh that’s great, baby! I just finished our sandwiches!”

My stomach growled. “Perfect.”

Elsa came around the corner, holding a platter with at least five sandwiches piled up. “Hope you’re hungry,” she said.

“Don’t you know me at all?” I joked, meeting her at the other side of the living room.

“Of course,” she said. “That’s why this is just your plate — mine’s still in the kitchen.”

My eyes went wide as I took the platter from her. “Dear god, I’m so in love with you.”

She leaned over my sandwiches to kiss me. “I love you, too. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll be right back.”

As I turned around, I saw a black blur in the corner of my vision. “Spirit! You almost made me drop my lunch.”

Elsa’s — or, I guess, our — cat was zooming through the house after his new toy mouse. “Silly boy,” I said, setting my plate on the coffee table.

Elsa was back with her sandwiches as I was sinking down into the new sofa we’d bought. She gave it a significant look. “Nice, right?”

“Oh my god, that’s an understatement,” I said with my eyes closed. “On a scale of couches, this one is through the roof, and your old one could be found in the basement.”

Elsa laughed as she sat next to me, resting her hand on my thigh. “Speaking of finding things in the basement…” Spirit jumped up into her lap. “No, Spiri, this is our food. You already had lunch.”

“Meep,” he squeaked a whiny, little sound.

Elsa sighed and tore a piece of turkey out of one of her sandwiches.

“You’re hopeless, my love.” I teased.

“He asked nicely.”

I sighed and took a bite out of my first sandwich. “This is the only thing I resent you for, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Elsa asked, holding Spirit up to touch noses with him.

“This!” I said. “I don’t know if you remember, but on our second date, I said I would make you into a dog person if it was the last thing I did.”

Elsa burst out laughing. I continued. “And then on our Very Next Date, I accidentally helped you get a fucking cat, which you’ve fallen in love with, and tricked me into falling in love with, too, and now we’re a fucking cat person household — and sometimes I can’t look myself in the eye.”

Elsa just smiled as she let the cat back down on the floor. “Anna. Darling, if you fell in love with a cat so easily, the evidence suggests you might have been a cat person all along.”

“How dare you suggest something so heinous — on our new couch no less?”

“I think the couch can take it,” she teased.

“Really, has the couch been tested for what it can take?” I teased back.

The implication weighed on both of us.

“No, you’re right,” Elsa said, her teasing voice becoming a little more… sultry. “We should really see what it can handle.”

I shifted, just a fraction in my seat to angle myself toward her, and that was the catalyst. Our lunch was forgotten for the moment, as I was pulled toward my girlfriend and I pinned her underneath me into the soft cushions.

I moved in close to her neck while heat raced down my stomach. With my mouth near her ear, I whispered. “I hope it’s sturdier than the last one.”

#elsanna #submission #october 2021 contest #prompt: spirit #lime

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soundsof71 · 4 years ago

Note

for the album thing: born in the usa :)

I could write a book about any of Bruce’s records from Born To Run to Born In The USA. I did in fact write my grad school thesis using Nebraska as the hook: ”Vehicles of Grace: Automobile Imagery and Salvation in the works of Bruce Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor” LOL which is one million percent true.

In fact, I bought Nebraska on my first day of class in grad school (a whole story by itself), and BITUSA came out as I was finishing my coursework two years later. It’s hard to overstate how hard this one hit, but my reaction was kind of complicated, so I’ll tell ya all about it.

the first song from this album I heard: “Dancing In The Dark”, which came out as a single before the album. Followed immediately by “Pink Cadillac”, its b-side. We played the SHIT out of that song in particular, far more than the A side, and were dumbfounded that it wasn’t on the album.

do I own the album?: Obvs, but there’s a story. Of course. My girlfriend and I bought it on vinyl the day it came out in June (we weren’t married yet, but we’d merged our record collections the previous year LOL), then for my birthday in August, she bought me a CD player for like $800 (they were expensive as FUCK when they first came out -- and $800 was even more of a fuckton of money back in those days, especially for a couple of grad students), with one CD, Born In The USA. That one CD was more than reason enough to spend the dough on a player.

I still have that CD, along with the ticket for show where we saw Bruce on our honeymoon in England, at St. James Park in Newcastle, in June 1985. He’d just gotten married too (the first time), which is a whole ‘nother story too. Oh, and I still have the sweatshirt from that show! I'll post a picture of all this some time.

my favorite song: Wellll....here’s where it gets kinda complicated. Bruce had a notoriously hard time picking songs for the record. He’d recorded something like 50 songs for the album, and once he cut the list to 30 or so, he kept asking people he trusted to pick THEIR favorite running order. (Dave Marsh talked about this in his book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, and I haven’t heard it much discussed since then.) It’s hard to argue with the finished results, but you know what? I kinda do, still, all these years later. LOL

My favorite song OF the album, no question, is “Shut Out The Light”. (Check my tag for this song to hear some more about it.) It was first released as the b-side to the 7 inch single of “Born In The USA” (remarkably, the third single from the record), and wouldn’t show up on CD until 1998 on the Tracks anthology. Tracks was 4 CDs in all (should probably have been 6 discs, and COULD have been 10), but I bought the whole thing for THIS.

youtube

My favorite song ON the album: “Downbound Train.”

my least favorite song: “Darlington County”.

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: “Dancing In The Dark”. I’m not alone in this. Miami Steve famously HATED the song at first, and only came to appreciate it after years of playing it live. I still remember never more eagerly anticipating an album in my life, and never being more upset by the advance single. I was devastated.

Here’s why. Born to Run came out when I was 15. “Gotta get out while we’re young!” The romance of escape, with the last two songs, still grandly romantic, hinting at its costs.

Darkness came out when I was 17. Narrator: “They did not escape.” LOL Ghosts, bitterness, compulsion, cursed by God. His estranged wife’s eyes “filed with hate for just being born”, while “Tonight I’ll be on that hill ‘cause I can’t stop.”

The closest thing to hope: a whispered “Tonight my baby and me are gonna ride to the sea / and wash these sins from our hands.” I was a senior in high school and the dream was already dead. Awesome. LOL

The River came out when I was 20. The only hope is domesticity. Too bad that it’s suffocating and you’ll fuck it up. LOL Want to wash the sins from your hands? Sorry, the river is dry. “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true / Or is it something worse./ that sends me down to the river?” Yikes!

The shows for this album were astounding. The album was soooo much darker than it first appeared, and the catharsis in the performance was rewarding, sure, but almost unbearable. You were left broken and crawling by the end of the night. In a good way. LOL

Nebraska came out when I was 22. Murder, mental illness, ghosts, more murder, compulsion, and as a treat, a little more murder. LOL

The one song I couldn’t stand was “Reason To Believe”, because I didn’t believe there was one, and I didn’t believe he did either. But boy did I love the album as a whole. Like I said, my grad school thesis started here, because I had too much to say about Nebraska and the sweep of Bruce’s literary roots and spiritual impulses NOT to write about it.

(Not shockingly in retrospect, and a blessing for us all that he went through with it and is still at it, but Bruce’s therapy started here too.)

So from 1975 to 1984, things got darker and darker and darker. It was beautiful. LOL And hey, this was MY LIFE we’re talking about, too! From 15 to 24, I was listening to Born To Run, Darkness, The River, and Nebraska practically on a loop, and the more hopeful stuff was becoming less and less resonant.

Sure, there was Rosalita and Thunder Road and Badlands, plenty of dancing and pumping fists, but I was dwelling in darkness, and living for it. On my best days, I was wounded, not even dead LOL but I barely listened to Born to Run by the end of this span. It was mostly Darkness and Nebraska.

I couldn’t wait to hear what was coming after the highest body count in recorded history on that album. LOL I knew it wouldn’t be acoustic again, but man, he was cutting closer and closer to the bone each time out. How much farther could he possibly go?

And it was....Dancing In The Dark? What the actual FUCK? Practically fucking disco or something? WHA....? I loved dance music, especially in the 80s, but I didn’t need it from Bruce. I had that from other people. Oh well, at least the b-side was cool, so maybe the album won’t bite. LOL BUT THEN PINK CADILLAC WASN’T ON THE ALBUM. FUCK.

The album didn't bite, of course, but it took a looooong time to get over this huge dual disappointment of a chirpy disco single by an artist I barely recognized, and whom I now felt I could no longer trust to manage his own creative mission.

My wife wrapped her head around it first (as is usually the case LOL). She dug it as the closest Bruce had yet come to putting his actual self in a song. The narrator is a writer, anyway, unlike every other song he’d ever written about jobs he never held for a single second (an observation that would form the bedrock of Springsteen on Broadway 40 years later).

Now, I totally dig it. If you’re naughty enough, I might even post my ukulele cover of Dancing In The Dark. LOL

a song I used to like, but now don’t: None. The songs I loved, which is most of ‘em honestly, I still do. Everything about this album has gotten better with time for me, and nothing about it has gotten less so.

my favorite lyric:

From “Shut Out The Light”: Oh mama mama mama come quick I've got the shakes and I'm gonna be sick Throw your arms around me in the cold dark night Hey now mama don't shut out the light

From “Downbound Train” The room was dark. Our bed was empty Then I heard that long whistle whine And I dropped to my knees, hung my head, and cried

Bruce was gonna try to give me a happier record, but I was having none of it. LOL

For the record, “Downbound Train” is my wife’s favorite track on the record by FAR, at least partly because it sounds like a band version of a song that could have followed Nebraska. I prefer Shut Out The Light because I heard the story of my own mental illness in it for the first time, but yeah, Downbound Train is amazing.

I only saw it live once at the time (in Newcastle, June 4, ‘85), but it really comes to live onstage -- true for all of Bruce of course, but this album more than any other imo.

youtube

overall rating out of 10: Then: 8. Now: 9.2. The shows were unbelievably good (we saw three shows in three different countries on that tour) and it sold a buttload, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that after the run of Darkness - The River - Nebraska, that this was a missed opportunity at best.

Time and distance heals all LOL and I now love it. Not more than the four before it, but more than anything since. A masterpiece, by any standard.

#bruce springsteen #born in the usa #shut out the light #dancing in the dark #nebraska #ask #essay #downbound train #darkness on the edge of town #Anonymous #youtube

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crushzone · 4 years ago

Note

Hello my lovely your smut is god tier💞. Could i request a cheeky threesome between ennoshita and akaashi (seeing as they are both next gen captains😘). Reader is a bit of a switch. Thank you and enjoy your day.

Blue Petals ❀ Part 1 (NSFW) -Haikyuu!!-

Character: Ennoshita Chikara x Fem!Reader x Akaashi Keiji

Summary: The pressure of bidding good bye becomes immense, as a manga artist, her editor (Akaashi), and her roommate (Ennoshita), reflects on the nature of their relationship and what they want out of it after their second to last weekly meeting at her apartment.

Word Count: 7,842

Contents: Love triangle, time skip characters, mutual pining (every character is attracted to one another), steamy make out session, slow burn.

Additional Notes:

Carla, I know you didn’t ask for all this love triangle part 1 for this fic, but I can’t help it omg. I promise you, you WILL get ALL the steamy threesome smut action in part 2 haha. 😏

It should be up sometime soon, I’ve already written it, just needs proofreading. The navigation to part 2 will appear with a clickable link when it is up. 👍🏻

Blue Petals, is drawn from my senior thesis short film title that I had to make for my Film major. However, the plot for the short had nothing to do with the one that I came up for Y/n’s manga, I simply drew the name from it.

>>> PART TWO

Please do not repost my work ✨

Characters are aged up.

Water…running through my fingers —This must be the way she felt when it skids down her bare back.

He wishes he can shape shift — to become one with this water and caress your smooth skin with his warm droplets.

Ennoshita leans against the sink, turning the faucet off as he absentmindedly shake his hands mid air, springing droplets off the tip of his digits, as if he’s loosely attempting to rid his fascination of you.

This is wrong. It’s going to complicate things. Just…Irrational.

His large hands brace the corner of your shared marbled counter, mind refusing to shut off as it rebels, sprinting a thousand miles a minute in the direction he is desperately trying avoid.

The drip from the faucet casts a constant rhythm to the, otherwise, silent apartment. He mentally curses as he brings his dampened hand to rotate the knob, droplets growing fainter as it cease.

He loves his job, he really does, and he excels at being a physical therapist. The amount of hours he’s put into acquiring this job, the efforts he put into remembering his patient’s names, and the smile he puts on to encourage them to stay strong, really pays off in the end.

However, today, every second when he was not tending to his patient, and when he was alone in the sea of hustling scrubs, his mind betrayed him; the image of you walking out of the restroom at 5 AM, this morning, in just your soaked towel. The way the droplets on your naked shoulders glisten under the faint kiss of tungsten that peaks from your bedroom, like gold dragon scales, so majestic yet delicate.

He had just tumbled out of his room, half asleep, in just boxers and black t-shirt. His eyes immediately widen when it met yours, a suppressed squeal escapes your throat, as you fumble with the top of your plushy towel.

However, that didn’t help because by hastily pulling it further up your Décolleté, only revealed your other round asset that peaks from the bottom hem.

“I’m so sorry!” You both muster in great embarrassment, as footsteps spiral down opposite ends of the corridor. When the doors slammed with a bang, Ennoshita slid to the ground with a hand over his heated face.

Oh boy.

This was not his first encounter either, from years of high school together and 2 years of being your roommate, he’s well aware of your clumsiness. But that also makes you so painfully endearing.

Now, back to the sink where he hovers, steadying his breaths as he could feel his member push the sturdy fabric of his trousers taut.

This can’t be happening right now, in a few minutes, you’re going to walk through the door and se-

Click.

His rhythmic breaths hitch when he could hear the click of the lock, and the twist of the knob.

“Chikaraaaa-kun, I’m home! I brought you your favorite pineapple pecan cake from the bakery nearby.” You bump the door open with your hip as you clumsily shuffle through the entrance, arms bracing stack of folders and a laptop. Then you shut the door with your elbow, bumping your hip against the wooden fixture as you rotate the lock.

The fear of getting caught mid-boner should’ve given him the fuel to suppress it, but oddly, it only worsens when he sees you, standing there so effortlessly beautiful and ridiculously oblivious to his fascination of you.

“Thank you, Y/n-san!” He responds, turning his head to offer you a smile while his hips remain glued to the cool sink. “I cooked us some dinner, it’s all in the fridge. I barely saw you this week, so I don’t mind waiting to eat mine after your meeting with Akaashi.”

You were already in the middle of preparing for the meeting with your manga editor, eagerly spreading your portfolios all over the dining table, and clearing any other unnecessary decorations to make room.

“That is so thoughtful, thank you so much! I appreciate ya.” You turn to him with a wide smile, ignoring the warmth that cradles your cheeks.

He makes you so happy, so very happy.

There had always been something that draws you to him, even from the first day he’d introduced himself at Karasuno.

The way his voice is as warm as a cup of hot cocoa, and his gentle eyes scan your face with the most genuine smile. He reminds you of the comfort and warmth of a sweater, a piece of homeliness you get to bring with you, even when you are somewhere unexplored and cold. He’s always had your back at times when you feel like flopping, and likewise, when you would cradle him in your embrace as he falls into quiet tears at moments when he’d undermine himself of his capabilities.

Chikara is a warm sense of familiarity, a sunrise that promises a new day, the fragrance of trustworthiness that you are incredibly drunken on. Every night when you would bid each other sweet dreams, there would always be a subtle moment of hesitation before soft footsteps saunter across the corridor to your respective rooms. When the doors shut, you always curse at the way your feet rebel, how it tear your chances to run the opposite direction and into his arms nightly.

Because he is your roommate. And that would be complicated.

A rational portion in your mind whispers, shining a lone beam of light through your fog of infatuation, as you will your gaze away from his chocolate orbs.

Your admiration for Ennoshita had far exceeded friendship, even before you’ve decided to move in together as roommates. Till this day, you wonder why you were the one to insist on rooming if you knew you had always been in love. Perhaps his homeliness made you wonder what it would be like to come back to his gentle smile after work, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to let go of your muse.

And then there’s Akaashi…If Ennoshita reminds you of the the warm sun, Akaashi is the calmness of the ocean. The cooling sea breeze that kisses your skin with a gentle mist from dancing tides.

At the thought of him, a series of gentle knocks on the door snaps the tension from the air as you scurry to open it.

Meanwhile, Ennoshita remains by the counter, mentally crafting an escape as the thought of seeing Akaashi’s cooling eyes would only worsen his predicament. Using his quick wit, he takes advantage of the commotion to spring himself from the counter, speed-walking across the dining room, then up the stairs.

“I’ll leave you guys to it!” He says cheerily, when he’s already halfway up.

Akaashi had just stepped in and is removing his shoes as you close the door. “Oh, okay! I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“You don’t have to lea-“ He begins, but is cut short when Ennoshita quickly waves at him.

“Hi Akaashi-san, please make yourself at home.” He says, before immediately disappearing behind his bedroom door.

Had our weekly meetings been inconvenient for him this whole time? If so, maybe the next should be held elsewhere. Akaashi wonders, a little concerned at his strange behavior as he absentmindedly readjusts the small paper bag on his wrist.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so?” But truthfully, you’re not convinced that he is. “He probably just wanted some time alone.” You revise, walking him to the dining table.

“Oh, I brought you and Ennoshita-san some Yaki Tomorokoshi by the way.” He waves the bag gently, its cotton strings left the faintest mark on his slim wrist.

“Akaashi-kun! You really didn’t have to.” You can’t help but smile, grateful that the people in your life had been so kind and thoughtful. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can all watch a movie later so we can enjoy the dinner that Ennoshita-kun cooked, your Yaki Tomorokoshi, and the pineapple pecan cake I bought!”

A soft smile graces his lips as his hooded eyes linger on the wooden ground, a little too shy to meet yours. “That would be nice.”

And you beam at his response, finding warmth radiate your heart as your scalp tingles, nearly exploding at how precious you thought his little smile was.

What started off as a distraction from Ennoshita, only worsened when you and Akaashi grew closer through your line of work. He was there with you from the first chapter of your manga, where you’d meet up weekly to discuss revisions. Your meetings usually take place at restaurants, and you find yourself lingering after, ordering some extra sake and Daifuku as you spend the final hours of the night, chatting

He seats himself in his usual spot across from you, and you do the same after you’ve placed his grilled corn in the fridge, next to your dessert and Ennoshita’s cooking.

His quiet demeanor, professionalism, and calculating eyes were intimidating. but they gradually grow on you overtime, when you learn that he is just as shy as you are, and is also prone to occasional clumsiness as well. It’s really endearing.

One day, as you two were waiting for your checks to return, he’d asked about your manga’s source of inspiration, reasoning that he’d also been in search for his own, so he can write his short novel.

So with some hesitance, you described Ennoshita to him, without the mention of his name, and it got him very fascinated.

“Is this person, who inspired your protagonist, around? I’d love to meet him one day.”

It felt strange, describing your deep-rooted fondness for your crush to the other, but you also felt embraced, both by the thought of Chikara and by Akaashi’s undivided attention for you.

“He is, he’s actually my roommate.” You responded, nervously, taking a sip of your warm water as you try to drown the sudden flutter of nervousness with it.

His brow raised slightly, as he leaned on his palm, never dropping the gentle smile that adorned his soft looking lips.

“I’d love to meet him one day. What’s his name?”

“Ennoshita. Ennoshita Chikara.” Your eyes brightened at the mention of your friend’s name, forgetting for a second that you were talking to Akaashi. But when you linked your gaze to his dusty green orbs, your brows quirked when you realized his smile had widened.

“Oh. I know him.”

Since that day, you began offering your apartment for meetings, and it’s been that way for over two years now. Initially, Ennoshita would lock himself in his room to give you and Akaashi some privacy, but when you both assure that his company is welcomed; after all this is his apartment too, he eased up and fell into the routine of reading a book on the couch, while you work quietly at the dining table behind it.

However, you notice he had been distant lately, and you wonder if it had to do with you spending more time with Akaashi.

Ennoshita is on his bed, head spinning in a cocktail of thoughts. His fingers lightly graze the expanse of his exposed abs as he sighs, pulling his shirt back down and firmly lacing his hands over it.

That was a close one.

He’s lost track of time, it felt like hours since he’d locked himself in his room, taking steady breaths as he slowly glided his fingers over his sensitive skin, a desperate simulation of skin ship, to slowly suppress the urge of pleasuring himself to the thought of you and Akaashi. It was a rough battle as his mind constantly alternates between what it must feel like to plant gentle kisses to your soft skin, then to his calloused hands firmly running across the terrain of Akaashi’s sculpted body. Both souls so beautiful, yet so different in physique.

But what he yearns is beyond physical, he’s known you like the back of his hand, and your presence comforts him. You are like flowers in spring, the sweet smell of honey nectar, and your smile is the reason cloud dances to the wind under the warm presence of the tangerine sun.

He smiles in admiration of your diligence, when he would walk out of his room for water, in the middle of the night, to see you curled up by the dining table, your blue mechanical pencil in hand as you scribbled away at your manga panels. The paper lantern above you casted a cocoon of soft light that protected you from the darkness, and for a moment, it felt like he was watching you under the inky sea, and you are a mythical creature that emitted light.

He truly misses his days in Karasuno, when you would meet him after his practice to bounce story ideas for your manga, underneath the sunset’s performance, sitting side by side on the roof of an academic building.

“Oh!! Maybe Imogen and Habiki grew up in a rural area together, Habiki’s parents run a bakery shop while Imogen’s family owns an alteration store.” You say, waving your voice recorder in excitement, making sure it’s still going.

“I like that! Maybe there’s something special about this rural area. A noteworthy wonder that Habiki would instantly be reminded of when Imogen writes him letters while he is in war.” Ennoshita added, leaning back on his hands as he looked up to the sky in thought.

Screenwriting and storytelling had always interested him, and brainstorming with you inspired him to make his own films one day, maybe after your manga is done, so you can keep staring at the sun while daydreaming together.

You mimicked his stance, but instead of looking to the sky, your gaze shifted to him with a content smile. He is so beautiful: his gentle gaze unwavering as his mellow orbs embraced the splashes of pinkish hue in its glimmer, and the small smile that grazed his lips are kissed by the reflection of the fiery sky. For once, you wished you could turn into the sun, just so you can envelope his smooth skin with your warmth.

Then you were struck with an idea.

“What if…” You began, “What if there are these blue flowers that could only be grown in that area, and Imogen would always harvest and send pressed blue flowers to Habiki. He would then decorate his journal with it, sometimes even using it as a bookmark until it no longer hold its shape. It would remind him of the times when he would sit next to her, after work at his parent’s bakery, in the middle of the blue flower field, just watching sunset draw its curtains. ”

He spent a moment, allowing your imagination to sink in. Sometimes he wishes he could be your Habiki and you could be his Imogen.

You felt warmth blossom your cheeks, unsure if that was from the sun or if it was from embarrassment that you may have potentially given away the fact that Ennoshita had been your inspiration for Habiki all along.

“I like that a lot. Have you ever thought about how you’re going to end your manga? A striking image that summarizes Habiki’s long journey through war and the struggles he went through to try to find his way back home?”

Then your gaze faltered from the sky, as you looked down to your dirty shoes, subsequently tucking your chin between the basin of your knees. “No…I don’t know. All this time, I may have just been day dreaming. I don’t know if I have the talent to-“

“Y/n-san…” His tone grew serious, drawing your eyes to meet his. “There was never a moment when I’ve doubted your talent, and you shouldn’t either. I know this is something you’ve always wanted to do; to make your manga, and if it is truly what you want, I genuinely think you should pursue it.” He reached over to place a firm hand on your shoulder. “And I know starting something from scratch can be scary, but I am here for you.”

“What if no one even bothers to read it?” You sighed, turning away with a frown.

“Then I’m going to buy all 10, no 100, more like 1,000 copies of your manga and read it over and over again.” He chuckled warmheartedly. A strange flutter in your gut, slowly ascended your body at his laugh. “So what if it is a fail, you poured your heart into it, and in the end, you can come out of it knowing that you gave it your best. As long as you never give up and stick with it, even when it feels like the world is against you, is a success in its own.”

Your lips transformed into the largest smile, brows twitching in an attempt to hold back happy tears. He studied you, gaze darting between your lips and glassy eyes, breath hitched as he lost control of his body, slowly leaning towards your awaiting lips. You find yourself doing the same, your beating heart screamed to be free, to follow its will.

However…

“Chikara-kun.” You breathed, verbally forcing yourself to stop, and he did the same. “If we ever end up in the same area after university…will you be my roommate?”

He sat back up, and after a moment, he blinked away his rejection as he lifted his gaze from the concrete floor to your nervous expression with a soft smile. “Of course.”

And just like that, the sun had fully set, raven wings consumed any remaining sprinkle of flames and embers from the sky.

Does she still have the voice recording from that day? Did his facade falter when he said yes to being your roommate? If only he could have some of that audio to relive his memory with.

Like a torch that had been passed on, you no longer come to him for ideas on your manga as often as you did, instead, you would do so with Akaashi. He’s not upset, but simply nostalgic for those special moments he had with you, if anything, he’s more than happy you’ve come this far. Your manga had been selling prolifically with the help of your publisher, and is now a chapter away from being complete.

This meeting that you are having with Akaashi would probably be one of the last few chances he’d get to see him.

He chuckles under his breath, what a small world.

Though he’s never been very close with Fukurodani’s setter, he’s well aware of his existence since training camp at Saitama. The way he was able to maintain his calm demeanor, regardless of how emotional his best friend, Bokuto may be, is very noteworthy. He’d sneak glances at him during lunch and every time they walked by one another in the dorm hallway or during their tournaments, their eyes would automatically lock, followed by a small nod; a silent gesture of acknowledgement, mutual respect, and…admiration?

There’s something irresistibly charming about Akaashi that he could not put a finger on, and it doesn’t help that he only got to view him from a distance.

He’d hooked up with a few women during his time in university, especially on nights when he’s desperately touch starved for you, but he never thought he’d be into men. When he’d met Akaashi, perspective widened, gender and preferences are no longer black and white, as it became fluid, like a string of yarn, dancing care freely in the wind. His charm is beyond gender, it is his own.

However, he’d never thought too much about it because the opportunity to grow closer were slim, training being hectic and all. Until recently, when you would bring him here for weekly meetings.

What started with small glances when he’d enter and politely remove his shoes, perfectly lining it in parallel to the edge of the mud carpet, to the way he looks at you in fascination, leaning on his palm with a soft smile as you ramble vibrantly about your narrative ideas.

He’s not upset, not one bit, if anything, it’s comforting to know someone finds you as special as he does. Someone who could care for you when he couldn’t be there right away. It’s a confusing mix of attraction: your familiar comfort and warmth, like freshly done laundry, so warm and comfy to lay on, versus his exciting, serene, and unexplored presence, like the sweet smell of petrichor as he bikes by a rice field after it’d rained; both equally as attractive and inviting.

Then his phone lights up beside him, intervening his train of thought.

Y/n ☀️ [20:28]

We’re all good!! Ready for din din whenever you are 🐷

He chuckles softly at the endearing way you text.

Chikara [20:28]

Be out in a sec! :)

Then he sets his phone down, takes a deep breath, and palms his bulging member. Quickly realizing:

I guess I’m going to need more than a second…

You shut your folder with a sigh, drawing both knees to your chest, and leaning it against the table, clearly comfortable under his presence to allow your antics to slip. “Thanks again, for coming over, Akaashi. I can’t believe we’re a meeting away from ending this manga, where’d the time go.”

He nods, discreetly fiddling his fingers under the desk while maintaining a calm expression.

“Yeah.” It was all he could say, fearful that his calm facade may slip.

What now, is this it? Should he say farewell next time? Or should he treat it like other meetings, with the excitement to see each other again. Are we more than just acquaintances? Would it be strange if he asks you and Ennoshita to spend more time with him outside work?

Frankly, this had been a reality he never wanted to accept; that the next meeting will potentially be the last time he’ll get to work with you. The industry is so fast moving, he already has another job lined up for the next manga he’ll be editing, and it will be over 50 volumes long, which meant that even if you were to come up with another, he might not even be available for it.

For a moment, the apartment is unusually still, a stark contrast to the lively meeting that had just ended. Silence weighs heavily, but you allow it to sink, too bummed to fight it off. So you’re surprised when Akaashi attempts to dissipate it.

“Have you thought about the ending?”

Your brows furrow, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat, thinking back to the boy who began it all, under the warm presence of the setting sun. “Maybe, I have some ideas…”

You hate being nostalgic, but you realize you no longer designate a time to brainstorm and chat with Chikara, sadly wondering if he’s bothered by it; having Akaashi swoop in and take that away from him. No…he’s always been someone who’d go out of his way to help a stranger without expecting anything in return, he’s probably happy that you’ve come as far as you had.

“That’s okay.” Lifting your chin to the sound of his voice, soaring conflict in your mind calms to the sight of his timid smile. “You have some time, hopefully you’ll find something that really inspire your ending. Whatever it is, you have an amazing sense of judgement and I am sure it will be absolutely stunning.” His fiddling worsens, as he hope he had not come off too strong; he just wanted to express his believe in you.

And just like that, his comforting tide washes over your heated shore, soothing the stretch of searing rocks with its cool rhythmic ascension, like the rise and fall of a chest. Your furrowed brows relax and the lump in your throat dissolves, you feel fluid, like fine sand that slips through your fingers and on to bare feet in shy splatters.

With a smile, you respond with a nod. “Thank you, Akaashi.”

Standing up suddenly, before silence could re-materialize, you saunter to the kitchen, turning over your shoulder to smile at his confused expression. “I’m going to start heating up our food, Ennoshita-kun should be out anytime soon.”

He stands and follows you, socked footsteps barely making any sound on the wooden floor as he walks. “I can help.” You hum happily in response as you hand him one of the food containers to heat up.

Punching in the digits to your microwave, he leans against the counter as he watches you rummage through the fridge, occasionally rising to set containers on the marbled surface before kneeling back down to grab more.

Weekly meetings with you had meant so much more to him than he had anticipated, it was the first time he’d ever allowed editing sessions to be as untraditional as it had been; usually only keeping it to offices or restaurants, never at residences. However, your passion and genuine personality made it so easy for him to come out of his shell and converse more openly.

Every night when he’d return home from seeing you, he’d spend countless hours by the balcony, looking to the sparkling stars that scatter the sky like freckles, serenaded by wandering crickets and shy fireflies, with a notebook in hand. He lists the wonderful things he’d noticed about you and Ennoshita, and scribble short poems that he is a little too embarrassed to admit it is one. But just like your passion for drawing and Ennoshita’s interests in making short films in his spare time, writing is his way of encapsulating memory, to tell his own story.

Truthfully, he’s always wanted to work for a literature publication, but he can’t thank fate enough for introducing you and Ennoshita to him through this current job. His passion for literature had been adamant since he was in his adolescence, constantly blabbering attempted eloquence to his parents. As he’s gotten older, a small tree of fear roots his heart, afraid he would never find inspiration to write.

Until recently, that fear had subsided, as he would return from your meeting with a smile, eager to glide his fountain pen on the clean, stark pages of his dark blue leather journal, a present from you on his 24th birthday.

Once all the food had been heated and brought out to the coffee table in front of your small couch, Ennoshita finally emerges from his bedroom in a pair of grey sweatpants. “Sorry I took a while!” He smiles apologetically as he descends the stairs.

“No worries!! Dinner looks amazing, thank you for making it!” You respond, miming a chef kiss gesture at the food in front of you with a bright smile.

Ennoshita stops mid step, brows raised at your sudden burst of energy, slowly settling on a wide smile that gleams through his half lidded eyes. “Of course, Y/n-san. I hope there’s enough for the three of us.”

“I know I’m an unexpected addition, but thank you for letting me have some of your delicious cooking.” Akaashi’s eyes meet Ennoshita’s warm ones for a second, before it falters to the ground. His cheeks warm, and his expression may appear calm, but his fiddling fingers say otherwise.

Ennoshita’s eyes widen, suddenly feeling the urge to explode from the warmth that surfaces his subtly puffed chest. “I’m…I’m happy you enjoy them”.

“Akaashi-kun also brought some Yaki Tomorokoshi, so I think between your food, that, and my cake, we should be pretty good.” You add, hopping on to the center of the couch and bringing your knees to rest against your chest as you look to them, a remote in hand. “Would you be down for The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook?” (This movie is so good omg, HIGHLY recommend watching it.)

They nod simultaneously, feeling the sofa dip significantly as they wordlessly join you on the couch, Ennoshita to your left and and Akaashi to your right. You giggle at how huge the two of them are in contrast to the tiny loveseat, turning around to unfold the fleece blanket and casting it over the three of you like a bird spreading its wings.

“We’re going to get food on the blanket!” Ennoshita jokes, folding the soft material so it only covers his back. You laugh, knowing full well that he would say that, but you did it anyway.

Meanwhile, Akaashi bundles the front of his blanket around him like a half burrito, silently reaching over for his Yaki Tomorokoshi, and holding it with both hands as he eats, eyes watching you and Ennoshita comfortably: This feels like home, under both your warm presence, and he cannot express his gratitude to finally meet someone that makes him so content.

Halfway through the movie, with all your empty dishes in the sink, the three of you are bundled under the same plushy blanket as the plot grows darker and darker with twists you’d never expect. You can’t help but dig your curled toes a little deeper into the cushion, while Ennoshita shifts toward the edge of his seat, as Akaashi leans further back, head resting against the back cushion. Three set of eyes, trained firmly to the illuminating screen with great intensity.

Then out of nowhere, you are hit with one of the hottest and most beautifully shot sex scenes you’ve ever seen. (Yea, like damn, it got me feeling things when I watched it 👀 If you’ve seen this movie, you know what I’m talking about.) Suddenly, the pressure to stop your eyes from diverging off screen becomes paramount, the three of you scramble to shackle your imagination before it scurries off to other lewd fantasies that extend beyond the movie.

Umm…is this where you joke about it to elevate the awkwardness? But dammit, the scene was too well done, you can’t think of anything silly to say.

You all visibly stiffen, suddenly hyper aware of the way your outer legs and shoulders touch, feeling your respective cores heat and breath hitch at the attempt to steady it. The couch suddenly feels like a bubble, frustratingly suffocating, as it confines the three of you in this tight predicament. But when you try to make yourself smaller, so your bodies are not in contact, your hands accidentally brush theirs, and you could not have pulled them away any faster than you had, mentally cursing at the way electricity courses through your skin like wildfire.

The little hand grazing accident heightened the tension, as Akaashi is no longer able to keep his quirk in check, instantly bringing clammy fingers to fiddle on his lap. Distracted by his movement, you were unaware of Ennoshita’s glance, quickly shifting back to the screen when you turn to him. Gosh, how he wishes he could at least give you a small kiss on your warm cheeks.

Gulping at how the sofa on-screen closely mimics the color of the one you are seated on, you will yourself from overthinking; it’s fine, your activities on it are as different as night and day. Totally fine…Puffing your cheeks like a goldfish, you exhale steadily, but the sound did not go unnoticed by two pair of glimpsing eyes.

In the movie, two characters kneel before one another, intoxicated in their share of yearning kisses for any care in the world. This short sequence drags on because the sexual tension in the air is as dense as hardened concrete.

Here’s the scene from the movie. I censored it out for u LOL.

You wonder…wonder how it would feel to draw them to your lips…Would they resist? Or would it shatter all this tension and bring forth clarity to the complication of your friendship. No…you shouldn’t be thinking these things, it’s wrong, so wrong, and your friendship is as clear as day…right?

But then you realize you may not be the only one with this curiosity.

If your friendship were purely platonic…what’s with the sexual tension?

The two men shift, playing it out as if they were stretching their sore muscles from poor posture, but it was actually a desperate attempt to subtly readjust their growing erections. You noticed, you totally did, and decides to take this opportunity to cross your legs tightly, relying on the soft blanket to shield your flexed inner thighs, sinfully enjoying the friction your denim offers with its thick seams.

Ennoshita’s and Akaashi’s mind are whirling as they try to come up with a solution to the potentiality of you noticing their growing members, thinking of different excuses, only to resurface with none.

Ennoshita debates if an excuse to the restroom would seem too obvious that he’s ridiculously turned on, while Akaashi wonders what Bokuto would do in this situation, since he’s always so up front and unabashed about most things. Then, by sheer accident, their eyes meet, cheeks instantly erupt in flames as they turn away non-subtly.

Is Akaashi also sporting an erection? Ennoshita wonders.

Is Ennoshita…really turned on by this too? Akaashi questions.

Meanwhile, you glance between the two, hand slowly creeping between your legs, pushing a little further into your throbbing crotch as awkwardness transform to heat.

Have you been misreading their signs? Had you been in their way this whole time? But you weren’t upset either, because the image of them, completely nude, in each other’s embrace, kneeling on the couch as their sculpted bodies merge under the soft glow of tungsten, back dimples kissed by the watchful moon, is unbearably, and ridiculously arousing.

You’re turned on by their flustered attempts at subduing their body’s natural response for sex, thankful your anatomy is not as outwardly obvious during arousal. Such gentlemen, refusing to acknowledge their mutual sexual desires.

A sudden craving for physical contact manifests as your eyes train to the television with a degree of intensity. But how should you approach this, and with who?

This is it, don’t think too hard. But were you really the one operating your thoughts? Or was it simply your mind being weary of your hesitance.

It didn’t matter, because your body had decided, hands snaking timidly outward, like a chick, spreading its wings for the first time. The stakes are so high, but you are already in the act, there’s no turning back. When your delicate fingers brush the back of their hands under the blanket, they jump at the sudden sensation of your tenderness, clearly aware that it is not a coincidence this time.

They turn to you simultaneously, lips agape and eyes widened in surprise, but you simply look between them with great curiosity, eyes so round and unintentionally coy, like a fawn meeting its pals for the first time, attempting to study their thoughts when you hesitantly hold them firmly, soft hands curling against their large palms, no longer calloused from the lack of volleyball practice.

Your lips open and shut before you stop it all together with your teeth, chewing nervously. So effortlessly alluring, like bright red rose petals, sinking and reemerging from clear water, so teasing and erratic, you just want to scoop it tenderly with both hands and draw it to your lips to still its motion. Their dark eyes are on you with a gulp, as you try to form words, but the only thing that escapes are short breathes; a cross between a sigh and desperate gasps, dying to hear some sort of response from either or them, feeling so stranded by your boldness.

And your thoughts are heard, when you feel both their large palms tighten around yours: Ennoshita’s a little clammy while Akaashi’s is shaky, but they relax you nevertheless.

“Y/n-san.”

Ennoshita breathes, cheeks incredibly warm as he mentally curses his tongue for slipping your name a little too soon. Then without a word, like the day when he was simply an eager boy trying to kiss you, he leans forward, soft eyes slowly flutter shut with every distance he crosses, relieved to see that you are also doing the same, and when you meet him in the middle, it’s as if your life had been on pause, finally discovering the courage to resume.

He smiles gently, bathing in immense satisfaction when your soft lips finally meets his plush ones in a featherlike kiss. Pressure taps at his hooded lids, tempted to burst in tears as he feels so relieved, so freaking happy to claim your lips. The kiss was so soft, like the legs of dancing butterflies, his broad chest rumbles in a low chuckle at the ticklish sensation that lingers on his smile, bringing his other hand to caress the side of your warm cheeks lovingly. He’s found closure, no longer able to imagine himself thinking back in “what ifs” to that moment, as he interlaces his long fingers with yours.

You pull apart, still drunken in disbelief that this is the same boy you went to high school with, the boy who sparked your career and had always been there for you. Then you’re suddenly overwhelmed by how much he’d grown into a man; jaws much sharper and features more defined, but the soft smiles he share with you had never changed, and that is how you know he’s still the same person you’ve fallen in love with from the very beginning.

He IS your Habiki.

But you snap back to reality when Akaashi’s palm loosens, a second away from slipping through your fingers, like a petal that had been whisked by the wind. Instead, you interlace his finger with yours, turning to look into his eyes intently. He’s caught of guard by your overwhelming attention, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow his thickened saliva from hoarding nervous breathes, heart banging frantically at the bursting blood and vessels that surrounds it.

Did he offend you? Should he leave? Her and Ennoshita are clearly meant to b-

Heat blooms in his cheeks, when you draw the back of his hand to your tender lips for permission, shattering his fragile facade as warmth flows out of his open heart like an erupted volcano, melting his entire being as he is tempted to sink further into your couch. However, his spine refuses to curl as it keeps him erect, helpless to its command like a marionette.

Should he kiss you? Is that what he wants? Or is he misreading your si-

His eyes were blank, as he never registered your face growing closer, and by the time he’d return to the present, he could feel your soft minty breath against his pointy nose, your long lashes cast a shadow over your vibrant eyes, robbing it of any glint as you look to his lips, then back up to his dilating pupils. His thoughts are cut short again when your lips brush his, testing the waves before fully submerging in his cool stretch of seawater, your lips are warm, in comparison to his cool ones, but the juxtaposition in temperature is stimulating.

You pull back a little, staring at his flustered expression that grew hungrier the longer he stares right back, you’ve stirred a tide that’s ready to draw you back with its beckoning dance. Then you’re back at it, harder this time, too drunken for each other’s magnetism to recall who was the first person to lean, as you bring the back of your entwined hand to brush at the area next to his fluttering lashes, so thick and alluring like fine owl feathers. Ennoshita watches you in fascination, thumb grazing the top of your hand; a gesture to remind you of his warm presence.

When you pull apart for breathes, Akaashi felt a surge of confidence as he sits up, green eyes drawing in Ennoshita’s brown ones, as he return his look with a blush, bringing his free hand to nervously rub away the warm tingles at his nape. Akaashi’s eyes falter timidly for a moment, before it returns with greater intensity.

No, he can’t back down, he needs to get this out in the open now.

“Ennoshita-kun…”

His eyes may appear calm, but his voice was merely a whisper that’s been thrusted into the silent atmosphere of the room, barely making it over soft mumbles from the movie that’s been long forgotten. He suddenly feels so small, like a lost kitten wailing for help, but he knows the tension had been slowly melting, and the only way to surpass this fully is by also taking initiative.

“May I kiss you too?” He asks, frankly unsure of how to initiate a kiss with someone that is not seated right beside him.

Both yours and Ennoshita’s eyes widen momentarily at his straightforwardness, before it curls into a small chuckle, finding his shyness endearing; seems like his calm demeanor was a defense mechanism to his awkwardness after all. 🥺

Was that too bold?

He was initially a little embarrassed, but is also relieved the tension in the room is close to gone.

Ennoshita brings his free hand to caress his cheek, gently drawing him over you and towards him with a smile. “I would love that, Akaashi-kun.”

And with his reassurance, they lean to one another in perfect synchronization, flushed lips colliding like the sun’s reunion with the horizon, their passion drizzling onto the water’s rippling surface in bursts of tangerines and scarlets. Someone who they thought were unattainable, no longer a reality as they hold each other firmly, hands coming up to entwine next to their moving heads, lips falling into a rhythm, as their defined jaws dance to their passion.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as your core clenches in arousal at the sight of both your crushes, sharing an intimate moment right in front of you. It is like the fantasy you’ve recently envisioned as you were watching the movie, but this is even better than what the expanse of your mind is capable of picturing. What started as separate admiration, turns out even better when you see that they had also been struggling with the concept of mutual crushing.

They pull apart, but not fully, Akaashi gently tilts his head to lovingly brush the tip of his nose against Ennoshita’s lips, still too enchanted by his warmth to leave. Ennoshita’s heart flutters at his coy gesture, inhaling shakily when Akaashi looks up to his orbs, incredibly fascinated by the way his pupils dilate, consuming steel green rings like a beating heart. Then they simultaneously turn, catching you in the act of lingering gaze as you imprint the beauty of their attraction in mind, wishing that you had your drawing pad to capture this moment on paper.

“Y/n-san…” Akaashi begins, gaze shifting sideways as he scrambles to string words that describe his feelings, however, his own understanding was never fully apparent to begin. To his relief, Ennoshita glances at him before looking back at you, finishing his sentence.

“I like you a lot, Y/n-san. I’ve always had, since Karasuno. I regret not kissing you the week before graduation…but now that I get to be here with you, as someone more than just your roommate, I want to make it clear that I’ve always liked you.” Then he turns to Akaashi.

“Akaashi-kun….I enjoy all the times you’ve spent with us, I may not know you as well as y/n does, but I’ve always been drawn to you since training camp. I like you, and I’d love to get to know you better, no longer from a distance, but right here with you.”

He looks down to your entwined fingers, arms forming a circle, this is the moment he’d always dreamt of. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen after…but I want this kiss to be a start of something, a new beginning to our relationship…if it’s what you want.”

You melt at his genuineness…He always says the right words at the right time, a great trait of a leader, and that is why you never doubted his ability as the team captain after Daichi had graduated. He can hold your hands through the wildest thunderstorm, and you’d feel like he could protect you from the inevitable temperament of nature.

“I like you a lot too, Chikara. I always had.”

“I like you too, Ennoshita-kun” Akaashi responds, eyes widening slightly when he realizes he may have accidentally cut you off, but when he turns to look at you apologetically, you just laugh it of, visibly relaxing his shoulders to the sound of your voice.

Then like a synchronized flock of starlings, you and Akaashi place gentle kisses on Ennoshita’s cheeks, eyeing each other for his consent, before slowly trailing down his defined jaws then to his long neck, now with confessions out of the way, you’re craving something more physical. He resists the urge to scrunch his shoulders, both your breaths tickling him at once, instead, he tilts his chin with shuddery breathes, allowing more room for you to explore; sensation so overwhelming but this is only just the beginning.

“I’ve never been good with words.” You breath coyly, stopping in between kisses to nibble at the bottom of his earlobe where the vertical meets horizontal, earning yourself a gasp as his body tingles. “But let me show you how much I’ve always wanted you, Chikara-kun.” He shivers at the way your voice grow softer, slowly turning to air by the time you say his name; it reminds him of the goosebumps he’d get when wind howls between the cracks of his window, a lullaby so quiet but enchanting.

Instead of responding verbally, his eyes roll to the ceiling before it flutters his shut, exhaling soft shudders as he slowly leans back on the arm rest with the guide of your hand. Meanwhile, Akaashi remains silent, but his gestures speak the opposite; he wants to express the same message through his undivided attention and touches.

Neither of you expected this moment to escalate the way it did, perhaps it was the lingering sexual tension that hung freely for years, or it may be the movie that reminded you of how touch starved you all had been, but whatever brought you here, had happened for a reason.

Because this moment, right here, right now, is where you belong.

Kisses turn to touches, and touches turns to labored breathes when Ennoshita pulls back from his heated kiss with Akaashi, wet lips looking a little bruised from passion, as Akaashi’s eyes are still heavily lidded, gaze glued on his parted lips like it’s an addiction.

Meanwhile, you trail soft kisses down Ennoshita’s neck, lingering momentarily on his bobbing Adams apple, while your other hand slowly finds its way to his crotch.

“Do you want to go to my room?”

He asks between labored breathes, nodding towards the corridor you spent years denying each other’s attraction, feeling your teasing fingers edge dangerously closer to his throbbing member, painfully pressed against the confines of his sweat pants.

>>> PART TWO

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life @scorpiosanssexy @tedwardos

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baekguuuuu · 5 years ago

Text

My Uber’s Here (1/2)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: romance, fluff, mature content

Word count: 5.5k

AN: crappy smut you’ve been warned. also, please drink responsibly.

one / two

First things first — I’ve never been intoxicated by alcohol in my life. I do drink of course, being a senior student in uni. I, obviously, went through a lot of shit throughout the semester in my college life. Frat parties, club night with my friends, or just a simple barbeque night with soju have been my stress reliever.

However, I never went past my limit. Once dizziness kicks in, I would stop.

But tonight is different.

I couldn’t even remember how many times I went to the toilet to barf. My credit card statement would probably show a whole page of receipt for the tequila shots I ordered from the bartender.

And gosh—an earful rant from my mom would surely take place in the morning.

You see, I was supposed to finally say Yes to the insanely good-looking giant who asked me to be his girlfriend few months ago. I wanted a serious relationship, not a toxic boyfriend-girlfriend thing for a while then would jump to strangers once break-up happens due to idiotic and childish reason.

Chanyeol is a Lacrose player, a star one, in our uni. I had the biggest surprised of my life when he came up to me in the cafeteria to ask if he could share the table with me and my friends, and yeah, he also asked for my number. He was a shy goofball and liking him wasn’t a difficult task.

He courted for me for months, showing me the charming yet manly side of him. I could honestly admit that I was swept off my feet. He was caring and a gentleman. I couldn’t ask for more.

Until I received an early morning call from my friend, Jisoo. She was talking so fast that I didn’t understand a word.

“Are you serious right now?” I could imagine Jisoo rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. “It’s almost noon and you just woke up?!”

I groaned, “I was busy last night with my final thesis. Mind you, I actually take my studies seriously.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Again, I could imagine how she rolled her eyes. “Anyway! I thought you’d finally make it official with Chanyeol?”

Huh?

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath, along with: oh, gosh, she has no idea. I could already feel a lump forming in my throat from the tone she was using. Thousand of circumstances were running in my head. Yet, I have no idea what actually was happening. I don’t want to assume things and create scenarios in my head.

I needed confirmation. “What?”

Jisoo hesitated for a while before muttering, “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Her voice was soft and comforting. A thing she would always do whenever I am stressed out or in need of someone to talk to when things get overwhelming.

“Wha—what happened?” I pressed, licking my dry lips, my heart thumping inside my chest loudly.

Jisoo explained how she saw Mina’s Facebook page. The said girl status changed to In a Relationship. And oh, with freakin’ Park Chanyeol. I know who Mina is. We have the same thesis advisor. She is a nice girl—prim and proper. It’d be difficult to hate the girl.

Jisoo, being the protective friend she is, immediately sent a message to Mina, confronting her about the news, and the girl firmly denies that she knew my state with her-now boyfriend. “It’s impossible she has no idea Chanyeol was wooing you! Everyone knew! Both of you were always—”

I cut her off, making up some terrible excuse that my mom was calling me. She let me off the hook, reminding me to call her later that day, and made me promise not to do stupid things.

My heart felt like it was going to fall off from my chest, and I couldn’t breathe properly. I don’t even know if Mina had an idea that I have a thing with Chanyeol, or she just didn’t care. How could Chanyeol do this to me?

Well, the thing was, I didn’t call Jisoo.

I went out by myself, relied on Google for a good pub to drink my heart out somewhere far from our usual hangout place, scared that someone might recognize me.

It’s not like I haven’t had a boyfriend before, but Chanyeol made me thought that I finally found my significant other whom I could be with after graduating uni.

I smell like vomit and I feel really sticky, and the worst part of my night is that I removed my contact lenses when I went to the toilet and forgot where I put them. I didn’t bring my eyeglasses and all I have is my phone and my credit card. With my horrible eyesight, I doubt I can go home in one piece if I use public transportation.

My other option was to call Jisoo, but I remember how I promised to call her and how she told me not to be stupid just because of some boy. Or I can call my dad… he always covers up for me from my mom. She’s an adult, it’s not like we didn’t go through this phase in our lives. Give her a break, he would always say, following a: just don’t get yourself knocked up.

I was about to dial his number then I remember how he left town for some conference he had for his work.

I huff and turn to the line of taxi by the curb. I would gladly take the ride but with my current physical state—or appearance, I don’t think any ahjussi will be pleased to have me as a passenger.

I’m typically dramatic, but being drunk as well, my situation makes me cry. I’m sniffing while banging my forehead on the light pole where I was leaning on until an imaginary light bulb appear on the top of my head.

“Shit!” I’m crying and laughing at the same time, fishing out my phone from the pocket of my jeans. I honestly forgot that Uber existed and totally a life saver.

I pin my location and destination, drafting a note to the driver for me to send: sir im drunk but ill pay for the inconvenience fee if needed I want to go home please thank you

With clasped hands, I look up on the sky, thanking Him when I was notified that a driver had accepted my booking. I had to squint my eye to check the vehicle displaying on the screen, and it’d be a Black Toyota Camry.

I waited by the curb, leaning against the pole while I held my phone in my hand. I could only identify an object by their color and shape—letters and numbers are all blurry. I need to be at least a foot away to read them.

I will surely spend my first paycheck to get a Lasik surgery.

I sigh in relief when I could see a black vehicle slowly pulling up in near me. I immediately open the door and place my freezing butt on the passenger seat.

As soon as I close the door, I greet the man beside me – telling my name in haste to confirm I’m his Uber passenger. I don’t know if it’s the side effect of consuming too much alcohol but despite my slur, I was talking rapidly.

“Sir, I know I pinned to my apartment building, but do you mind dropping me off to Taesok Building instead? It’s just a block away, I swear.”

“Taesok… building?”

I nod my head to answer his question. A bad decision, really. My head spins and I feel really nauseous. I thought my barfing session has ended, but I guess not.

“Holy—fuck! Are you going to throw up?”

I nod my head and he instantly reach his hand to open the passenger door. I run to the pavement, crouching down on the sidewalk to heave the alcohol left in my system.

I’m totally aware that I was being a nuisance to the driver, and I was about to tell him that I will cancel the ride since he must be utterly terrified —and probably disgusted, by my drunk state.

However, I saw a tumbler on my peripheral vision. I peek through my lashes and see that the driver is handing me a drink.

“This should make you feel a bit better. It’s still cold.”

I thank him quietly, getting the drink from his hand. I gulp the cold water and feel like crying again on how the liquid flows through my dry yet acidic throat. My organs are probably thanking me right now.

“I’ll just cancel the ride, sir. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.” I mumble, handing his tumbler back to him. My eyes are set on the ground, totally abashed by my current state.

He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he got up on his feet. I completely sat on the ground, brushing my hair out of my face, regretting my decision of drinking irresponsibly.

It is already past midnight and I am no stranger about the danger for a female to be alone at this hour. I was in the verge of crying—again, but a hand gently tug my arm to stand on my feet.

The driver is holding a duffle bag and a shirt on his other hand. “You can change into this in the car.”

“Wha—sorry?”

“Taesok Building, right? Come on, I’ll send you there.”

My eyes are wide as I stare at the man behind the wheels. I didn’t get a chance to see his face clearly inside the vehicle since the light was off earlier, and I am totally hammered.

But holy… cow.

He is gorgeous – drop-dead gorgeous. He isn’t tall as Chanyeol – probably taller by just few inches than I am, and he definitely has more soft features than I do, but his broad shoulders could remind anyone that despite his looks, he is a man. A good looking one, I must emphasize.

The drive is in complete silence. I tried switching my phone on but the battery is empty. I thump my head on the window, feeling helpless and stupid. This could possibly be my worst day... ever.

“Need to plug it in?”

“Huh?”

I look to my left and the driver tip his head to the direction of my phone in my hands, “We have the same model of phone. You can charge it there.” He points to the plugged lightning cable on the center console of the car.

After muttering a gratitude, I raise the cord to my sight, trying to connect the cable to my phone’s port. But my physical body is too drunk to function, unlike my brain that keeps running down to the nonsense things I could ever think of.

I heard a sigh, then he suddenly snatch the cord out of my hand, “Hold your phone out, I’ll plug it in.”

“Thank you.” I left the phone to charge on the console, and get back on leaning my head on the window.

The driver hums, his eyes are on the road. “You live in Hannam-dong?”

My heart thumps in my ribcage, not quite expecting the sudden conversation. “Yes.” I respond with a small voice.

“Must be loaded.” The man chuckles deeply, making my heart beats faster. He sounds so hot – or maybe it’s the alcohol making me think this way.

I didn’t answer, making the ride quiet once again for a few seconds until he spikes another dialogue. “Work giving you a hard time?”

“Huh?” I turn my head to look at him stupidly. My eyes meet his and I gape a little when he throws a subtle smirk.

“Getting drunk on a Thursday night? You probably have a lot of sick leave credits.”

I shake my head, making me hold on the seatbelt across my chest from the movement. I gulp and the man eyes me carefully, ready to pull up when needed.

A deep trembling sigh escape my lips, and I heard him did the same. “I’m a college student – a senior one.”

His eyes are wide when he turns his head to look at me. “No way…”

My shoulders slump, feeling dejected about his statement. He probably thought that I don’t look my age. Do I look that old? Geez, maybe that’s the reason Chanyeol looked for someone else. Right, Mina is known to have a baby-face in uni. I am nothing compared to the perfect student image.

I didn’t even notice that a tear escape my eye if it wasn’t for my unconscious sniffing – a habit that I have whenever I’m feeling down. I look away from the driver and wipe my tears with the back of my fingers.

The driver must’ve seen my action as he coughs awkwardly before speaking, “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought that—”

“It’s okay, sir.” His eyes lock with mine and he purses his lips when he saw how I was giving him a small force smile. “None taken.” I assure him.

The ride is in silent again. My fingers are gripping the sweater on my lap that I was wearing earlier. It reeks puke and sweat, I feel really guilty sitting in someone’s car and messing it up. Though, I will surely pay for the cleaning fee.

“Seriously, I—”

“Am I ugly?”

The man behind the wheel looks at me in surprise, his mouth opens a few times, trying to get some words out but nothing came out.

“It’s okay, sir.” I let out a smile, though sadly, looking on my lap. “Don’t answer that stupid question.”

I heard how he clears his throat, his clothes create shuffling sound against the leather seat, “Hey, you’re not ugly.”

Coming from a very attractive man, my cheeks has the urge to blush. I couldn’t be more thankful that it is quite dark inside the vehicle.

“I think you’re very beautiful.”

I swear to my ancestors’ soul, my heart skips a beat. Even though I heard them from my past boyfriends, and even Chanyeol, this time it feels really different, good different when the compliment came from this man. He sounded so unfeign.

Being drunk, I couldn’t stop my mouth from uttering the most idiotic and presumably the most embarrassing thing to say. “You’re very handsome, too, sir.”

A deep husky chuckle escape his plump lips and I can’t help but to notice how moist and pink they are. “Sir’s name is Baekhyun, sweetheart.”

I blush more deeply with the endearment, nevertheless I manage to utter my name much clearly this time which he repeated. “So, may I know now why you are drunk on a Thursday night?”

I swallow almost audibly, “Are you supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m driving you home – not really home, but let’s just say I’m doing you a favor.”

A frown forms on my face for the first time on that ride, “You’re my Uber driver—of course you’re supposed to drop your passenger off to their destination.”

Baekhyun laughs at my statement, his eyes forming a crescent shape, and damn it to hell, I just want to jump off my seat and straddle and kiss the hell out of him. Wait, what?

“Uber, huh?”

I look at him, totally confuse by his reaction. But when he saw how clueless I am, he shakes his head, giving me a lopsided smile. “Make sure to give me a five star rating then.”

“Of course.” I chuckle, biting my lower lip to stop myself from grinning too widely.

Baekhyun seems nice, given that he gave me water and handed me his extra shirt he mentioned that he always have in his gym bag. I’m aware how drunk I am, and how I am in someone’s car—a stranger’s car, I could easily be taken advantage of.

I unconsciously sigh, fingers fidgeting on my lap. “I was left hanging.” I start, the memories and emotion I had when I learned how Chanyeol is now together with someone else are coming back.

Baekhyun keeps his mouth shut, and I sense the urge to continue. “He told me he was serious about me, and he proved it – courted me for months, even brought me to his house to meet his parents and sister. I even played with his dog, Toben. I might have took too long on saying, hey! I’d love to be your girlfriend, something along those line so he looked for someone else.”

It made me feel more dejected upon realizing that the opportunity to meet his family again who are very nice people would now be apparently unsustainable.

“And then my friend called me while I was asleep and clueless on what has happened.” I smile sadly, shaking my head from the recollection. “A girl from our uni updated her status on social media for the world to know that she is now dating the stupid guy I trusted.”

I sniff, and a pathetic quiet sob slipped away from my lips. “I shouldn’t be crying over this. We were not even in a relationship—this is stupid. I’m so stupid.”

My upper body leaned forward, only to be stopped by the seatbelt on my waist and across my chest, when the vehicle abruptly pulled up on the side of the road and Baekhyun hit the brake. It was pitched black outside and only few cars would pass by. He’s still for a while, the only sound resonating inside is the blinking of the hazard sign of his car.

“Maybe…” Baekhyun breaks the silence. “Maybe he realized that you are too good for him and went to someone else who can deal with his pathetic ego. You’re not stupid, you were just being smart. Look on the bright side, what if he cheated on you after you said yes? You got rid of a possible asshole who tried to enter your life.”

I don’t say anything but my eyes are glued to his side profile. We met like an hour ago, and he exactly know the words to say to make me feel a bit better. “Baekhyun, how old are you?”

The guy rolls his eyes, though playfully. “Thank you for ruining the mood.”

I wipe the moist in my eyes with the sleeve of the borrowed t-shirt I’m wearing, and chuckle in amusement. “You finally knew what happened to me, at least exchange some information about yourself.”

My movement freezes when his hand reaches out to wipe the tears on my cheek – I must’ve missed a spot. “How old are you?”

“22 this year.” I answer his question.

Baekhyun raises a brow, an amuse and suggestive smile playing on his lips, “I’m five years older than you, then.”

We are just starring at each other, I’m leaning on the side of my figure so I could face him comfortably and he’s doing the same. I’m entirely captivated by his profound stare that I didn’t notice how his thumb were rubbing my arm in consolation.

The way his finger moves against my skin creates tension inside the vehicle, it isn’t unpleasant, just different. The air grows thick and I could feel how the man in front of me thinks the same.

“Baekhyun,” I call his name, softly. As if knowing what is going inside my mind, the guy shakes his head with a tight smile on his lips.

He withdraw his hand from my arm to change the gear and move the handbrake so he could continue to drive, but my hand is fast enough to shift them back. His eyes are focused on my action as I unbuckled my seatbelt and crawl to the driver’s seat.

“W-what are you doing?” Baekhyun hiss. His eyes reflect fire and I admit I was discourage for a second and I could already feel my cheeks turning red, and my whole body warming at the thought of my intention.

My hesitation flies out to the window when I completely settled myself on Baekhyun’s lap. I honestly thought he’d push me away in an instant, but his hands were settled on my hips as I place my hands on his shoulders.

His gaze flickers to my eyes then to my lips, hands travelling upwards my body to rub my side. Gathering all the courage in me, I lean down just enough to feel his breath on my lips.

Baekhyun called my name, warningly. “Stop this. You’re drunk.”

“That, I am.” I respond, a tiny squeal escape my lips when I move and bump on his forming tent. “But I know what I’m doing.”

“No, sweetheart–no!” Baekhyun pushes my body away from his when I started to move my hips a little to create friction.

To say I was embarrass is an understatement. I am not the type of person who sleeps or be intimate with a person who is not romantically related to me, what more with a stranger – but with him, gosh, it’s different.

I feel different. There’s a strong desire in me for Baekhyun to touch me like a woman.

But I’m not going to whore myself out either. If he doesn’t want it, to the point that he pushed me away even with my action of going too far. Be that as it may have been my fault, and it was not his responsibility, I’m still hurt– now by a another man.

“Okay,” I whisper, following an apology. “I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun eyes my action with mixture of regret and firmness. However, his eyes went wide when I open the door on the driver’s side instead of going back to sit my ass on the passenger’s side.

My feet are tumbling as I walk on the road. I don’t even know where we are, I am not familiar with this side of the city, yet I didn’t stop walking away from the vehicle regardless of the sound of my name being called, followed by echoes of footsteps trying to catch up with my clumsy phase.

“What the hell—stop walking—hey!” Baekhyun caught up to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me to his side. He’s yelling and the grip on my arm is a bit tight and I’m sure it would leave a mark. “You are drunk, and I’m not going to take advantage of some drunk college girl who is trying to get over—”

He closes his mouth upon realizing what he was about to say. I snatch my arm from his, “Okay. I’m a drunk college girl whose heart is just trying to forget everything, and I know I look really stupidly desperate right now, but can you not rub it on my face?”

Baekhyun is looking to my eyes that are drowning in regret, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I—”

“It’s fine.” I said, “You can end the ride here. I’ll find my way home, don’t worry about the ratings.” I huff before turning around to walk away from the guy.

I heard him groan behind me and the next thing I know, he’s on my side again, “Look—I didn’t mean what I said. I’m really sorry, but can you please get inside the car? It’s cold and it’s not safe for you to walk by yourself.”

I opened my mouth to refuse but a wind suddenly passed by, as if mocking me. It is indeed freezing and I can’t stop shivering.

Baekhyun smiled, warmly. He grabs my hand in his and walks us back to his car. He even buckled the seatbelt for me.

“How drunk are you?” He suddenly asked when he shut the door on his side.

I give him an exasperated look, “Can we just drop it? I’m ashamed enough to talk about that.”

Baekhyun stares at me, his expression unreadable as his eyes dance around my face. I feel like throwing up when I met his intent gaze. “Come back here.” He said, patting his lap.

Before I could even form a word to respond, he is already unbuckling my seatbelt, pulling my arms to sit on him. I am too entice by his eyes that my body automatically follows whatever he wanted me to do.

Just like our positions earlier, my hands are on his shoulder, while his are on my sides. We are just looking into each other, basking the presence of one another.

“Whatever’s going to happen right now,” I started, my voice came out like a whisper. “I just want you to know that I don’t usually do this. I’m—”

Before I could even finish my sentence, a lips captured mine. I wasn’t prepared from the sudden lip-lock, making me groan on his mouth. He’s nibbling on my upper lip before his tongue asks for an entrance which I gladly accepted.

There’s a hint of coffee and mint taste in his mouth, and I can’t help but feel bad on how many times I vomited.

Shit! I barfed!

I push Baekhyun’s face away a little bit to cut the breathtaking kiss and his confuse expression is so adorable that I had to drop a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

“I vomited earlier.”

“I don’t care, baby.” Baekhyun holds my nape to bring my lips down to his again. His lips travel to my neck, he’s licking and biting on my soft spot.

“Baekhyun–shit,” I curse, my hands are on his chest, caressing over his dress shirt, but his hand leads me to touch the hardness in his trousers.

He’s moving too fast for me, yet I have no complain nor I want to do something to stop him.

The guy groans, stopping his ministration on my neck to lean his forehead on my shoulder. His eyes are closed shut when I put more pressure in my touch.

I watch how his lips parted when I leaned back a little to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. My eyes met his lustful gaze and it gives me encouragement to continue my action.

I take out his length and circle my fingers on his girth, my thumb experimentally traces his slit. “Oh, baby…” his eyelids fluttered shut and he threw his head back on the headrest. “Keep going.”

My hand moves up and down his length and he let out a breathless gasp when I tightened my grip a bit more. “You like that?” I asked for confirmation.

Baekhyun bit his lip, trying to stop himself from moaning too loudly. “Oh, fuck—yes.”

Without any warning, I position myself on the floor, trying to fit my body on the small space. I lower my head and put his tip inside my mouth, swirling my tongue around his mushroom head.

Baekhyun jerks his hips upward in surprise, making me gag a little bit from the sudden action. I let out a snicker, “I’d love to blow you but I might seriously throw up.”

The male chuckles quietly, nodding his head. “Whatever you want to do.”

I don’t waste any time to wrap my hand around his length again, going even faster this time. One of Baekhyun’s hand went to my head and the other one went to cover his mouth.

“Holy–fuck! I’m going to—” he didn’t even manage to finish his sentence when his cum spurts on my face. I gather all my strength and hope that I won’t throw up before placing his tip inside my mouth again, sucking the salty substance he’s releasing.

“Baby…” Baekhyun groans, his hand caressing my head. “No more, please.”

I let go of his member and went back to sit on his lap. He eyes the mess he made on my face, his sultry gaze makes my inside so warm.

“Whoever he was,” I immediately knew who he’s talking about–Chanyeol. “He is dumb for letting you go. You’re perfect.”

I smiled, a bit abash from the compliment. I don’t think I’m that especial. Heck, I don’t think I have something about me worth complimenting.

“Because I suck your dick good?”

Baekhyun laughs, his hands caressing the side of my body, inducing. “That. And I think you’re very sweet.”

I crinkle my nose on him before leaning down to capture his lips on mine. His hand sneaks inside the t-shirt I’m wearing, feeling my hot skin on his palm. When his thumb reaches the underside of my mound, I let out a moan.

“Baekhyun…” I call out to him.

He nods his head in understanding, but after a few seconds, he curses under his breath. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

I smiled at him fondly. I appreciate how he cares about protection, unlike some other males out there who would just go hump and dump.

“It’s okay, I’m clean.”

“I’m clean, too, love,” Baekhyun responds, giving my lips a smooch. “But are you sure? I mean, I—”

“Just pull out, okay?” I look at him in the eye. Though, I’m not in my ovulation period, I still want to make sure and to be safe.

I got rid of my pants and underwear with the help of Baekhyun. I was about to remove the t-shirt as well but he requested to leave it on. “I want to see you in it.” And fuck, did I blush deeply by that.

My back arches, fingers claw on his shoulders, when he rubs his tip against my folds, spreading my wetness around. My bottom lip clamps down between my teeth when he starts entering my hole.

A strangled moan escapes my lips when I feel him stretching my walls, “Ha… Baekhyun…” I lean my head on his shoulder for support and he turns his head to give my temple a kiss.

“You’re so tight,” Baekhyun grunts, his fingers gripping on my thigh as he struggles to enter me fully.

We both groaned loudly when he’s fully inside me. He showers my shoulder and neck with kisses while waiting for me to adjust to his length.

I start by moving my hips up and down, Baekhyun guiding the speed by holding my hips. When I finally got used to his size, I start slamming my hips against his. I lift my head, my arms around his neck for support.

“That’s so good,” Baekhyun moans. His hand went inside the t-shirt I’m wearing and grab my mounds, cupping them over my bra.

My hips grind against his as I arch my back and lift my shirt up to my torso. I free a boob and held it out to him. Baekhyun gladly accepted my areole into his mouth, twirling his tongue and sucking it into his cavern like a lollipop.

“Oh, fuck,” I close my eyes as I start to feel the familiar knot on my stomach. “Baekhyun…”

As if knowing my body very well, Baekhyun let go of my nipple and held my hips as he starts slamming his hips upwards to meet mine. His thrusts are rough and I could feel myself exploding from the pleasure he’s giving me.

“I’m coming… oh, gosh,” I moan loudly, my hand travels to my clit, rubbing it furiously–adding fire to my incoming climax. “Shit, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Baekhyun assures. He goes faster as he encourages me to come. “Come on, baby. Let it go.”

My thighs convulse when a strong wave of pleasure hits every nerve inside my body, I stop rubbing my clit but Baekhyun continues with his powerful thrust. “Baekhyun, fuck…” I’m breathing heavily from the aftermath of the mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever experience in my life.

Baekhyun groans, “Almost there.”

I slump against his body as he thrusts inside of me, my walls tighten from the overstimulation.

“Shit, shit!” He lifts my body to pull out and to wrap his hand around his length. I immediately replace his hand with mine, adding pressure, while my other hand went to cup his balls.

“Fuck, baby,” Baekhyun grunts, “I’m going to come.” I go faster making the guy whine when he spurts his cum second time that evening.

We were both breathing loudly, our bodies are now covered with sweat despite the cold weather outside. His hands still on my bare skin under his t-shirt I am wearing, caressing my back comfortingly.

“Are you still drunk?”

I giggle on his question, lifting my head up to peck him on the corner of his lips. “A little.”

He pushes my hair back, caressing the apple of my cheek with his thumb. “You’re beautiful.”

I had the cheek to blush, my face is surely now in crimson red. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun helps me dress up, and get back on the passenger seat. It’s now 2 in the morning and I would have to sneak inside the house to escape my mother’s wrath.

I turn on my phone which is now fully charged and see several missed calls and messages from an unknown number. My brows furrow as I scan the messages:

“Good evening, this is your Uber driver. I have arrived.”

“Miss, where are you?”

“If you are not going to take the ride, please cancel.”

“I’m cancelling this ride, miss. Have a great night.”

With my eyes wide open, I turn to the man behind the wheels. He has his right hand on the wheel and the other one is on his lips, tracing its shape, his elbow leaning on the window sill beside him as he drives—gosh, he looked so hot. Wait, no!

As I’m starting to sober up, I slowly shift my gaze inside the vehicle to inspect the interior. And I honestly want to slap myself for not noticing the luxury design—the red light accent, outlining the dashboard and console of the vehicle, and shit, the expensive leather around me.

My heart is hammering inside my chest when I look closely on the logo placed on the middle of the wheel.

I just confirmed my idiocy.

Because I am sure that Toyota’s logo is not a fucking four rings lined horizontally.

I am in an Audi—and the guy beside me, the good-looking man behind the wheel—most importantly, the one that I just fucked with, is not even my Uber driver.

Fuck, what have I done?

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun imagine #exo smut #exo scenarios #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic

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mosylufanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Holding Out for a Hero

I’m so proud of myself, I finished a 12 Days of Killervibe prompt at the last minute!

Holding Out for a Hero

Caitlin pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing out against the burn in her eyes. No matter how she juggled the numbers, they always came out red in the end.

"Dammit, Daddy," she muttered.

The bell over the door jingled, and she jerked her head up, pasting a bright retail smile on her face. "Welcome to Jack Frost Toys!" she called out, quickly minimizing the accounting software. "Are you looking for anything specific?"

Usually they weren't. Usually, they came in, wandered around a little bit, and left. If she was lucky, they bought something before they left.

But the man standing just inside the door, snow dusting his hat and shoulders, said, "Yeah, please, I'm begging you. You're my only hope."

She cocked her head and guessed, "A . . . Star Wars toy?" There wasn't any particularly hot Star Wars toy this year that she was aware of, and she followed every toy blog and website she could find.

He laughed, tugging his gloves off and shoving them in his pocket. "No, just a desperate nerd looking for a Puffy Penguin. My niece is three and she watches the show on repeat. I know Leo Lion is like the hot toy this year, but Maya knows what she wants. For her it's Puffy or nothin', and I couldn't tell if you had any from your website so I came down here just in case and please?" He widened his eyes at her. "Please."

Her heart melted. One of the best things about this store was seeing children find their new best friend. Second on that list was adults who cared enough about the children in their life that they moved heaven and earth to find, not just the latest hottest toy, but the toy that was just right.

She slid off her stool. "I've got some ZooFriends toys right over here. We're sold out of Leo, of course -" Everywhere was sold out of Leo. "But I've got Puffy in a variety of styles."

"Oh my god," he breathed, snatching a Puffy Penguin stuffie off the shelf and holding it as if it were the Holy Grail. "You've got them all. Elly and Slowpoke and Skyhigh - " He stared at the elephant, sloth, and giraffe toys lined up next to the penguins.

She smiled brightly. "Now this one says phrases from the show, but this one is a lot huggier if you ask me -"

"I'll take them both," he said, grabbing the talking Puffy. "Holy shit. Nowhere has ZooFriends anymore. How do you?"

She bit her lip. "Lucky, I guess." She stepped away and grabbed one of the plastic hand baskets printed with the store logo. "Would you like a basket?"

He took it. "Really? Because it's three in the afternoon on the first Saturday of December. A toy store should be wall-to-wall. Where is everybody?"

She turned away. "Amazon," she said. "Walmart. Websites, chain stores -" She shrugged and tried to laugh. "The plight of the modern small business owner. Is there anything else I can help you find?"

"I'll keep looking around," he said, studying the shelf. "So you're the owner?"

She nodded. "This store has been in my family for five generations."

He almost dropped the basket. "Five - Did they even have toys that long ago?"

"Oh, toys have been around as long as humans have had childhood! Did you know they've found marbles in Egyptian tombs? And dolls in archaeological digs. Toys are how children learn about the world, and how they start to decide their identities and practice interactions with others! They . . ." She trailed off, blushing. "Sorry, my major was psychology and I did my senior thesis on the role of play in early childhood development."

He held up a hand. "Hey, I'm the last person to shame anybody for nerding out. That's pretty awesome. You're in the right business."

"For right now, anyway," she murmured.

"What?"

She smiled brightly. "I don't suppose you have any more nieces or nephews that need Christmas presents?"

He studied her for a moment. "Do you have any action figures?"

"Collectible or to play with?"

"Collectible?" he said hopefully.

She led him down the aisle and to the back wall. His eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you've got Max Mercury, black series." He grabbed it off the wall. "And Brainiac? This is a great section!"

She smiled. "My dad invested in these because he was hoping to bring in the collectors."

"Well, he made good choices." He picked the Braniac from its spot and turned it over in his hands, studying it closely.

She left him to it and went back to the counter. She didn't feel like agonizing over the accounts when he was still here, so she cleaned the counter, dusted the book corner, and rearranged the ZooFriends shelf to fill in the empty spots he'd left when he took the two Puffy toys.

After half an hour, he came up to the counter with an overflowing basket, most of it action figures. With her heart singing the song of small business owners, she scanned them briskly. His purchases came out to well over two hundred dollars. It was a drop in the bucket of her costs, of course, but it was a bigger drop than most.

He handed her his credit card without a wince. When she ran it, his name popped up on her screen. She handed it back with the receipt. "Here you go, Mr. Ramon."

"Cisco," he said. "Please. Mr. Ramon is my pop."

"Cisco," she said. "I can wrap these if you want."

"Just the Puffys," he said. "The action figures are for me."

She grinned at him and selected a print of happy reindeer to wrap the stuffed animals. "Naturally."

He laughed self-consciously. "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or not. I promise I'm a grown-up man."

"Of course you are," she said, hands busily folding and taping. A really nicely grown-up man, too. She battled back her blush and hoped he hadn't noticed. "But I'll never look down on any adult who still likes toys."

"Well, sure, that's a good hundred and fifty dollars of my total."

"There's that," she acknowledged, setting aside the first perfectly wrapped box and picking up the second. "But toys are important to children's imaginations. And children grow into adults, who still need their imaginations." She nodded at the Max Mercury he held. "I don't think any of us ever really outgrow the desire to be someone's hero."

"Well," he said, "you're my hero today."

She met his eyes and felt the blush rise again. "Thank you."

He grinned and accepted the bag with the two wrapped presents inside. "And come Christmas morning, I'll be Maya's hero."

She smiled. "She's lucky to have an uncle doing his best to find her the perfect present. I'm glad you came by today."

"Yeah, well, it was coming out here or spending a hundred and seventy-five dollars on eBay and hoping like hell it made it here in time." He fiddled with his wallet. "I really don't mean to be that guy, but your website is . . ."

Her face went hot and she made a business of putting away the scissors and the tape and rolling up the rest of the wrapping paper. "Archaic?"

"I was going to say behind the times," he said tactfully. "If you had web ordering, you'd be sold out of ZooFriends and a whole bunch of other stuff."

"I know," she said. "But I really haven't had the time to get a good system set up since I took over the store. I need inventory software that integrates with ecommerce and for that I need technical skills, money, and time, and I don't have any of those."

He leaned on the counter. "You don't have to tell me, but how did it get this bad? You clearly love this place and I really don't feel like you would have let it fall behind like this if you had a choice."

She chewed her lip. "My dad died in September."

Sympathy spread over his features. Not the plastic, practiced sympathy she'd seen so often, but real compassion. "I'm sorry. Was he sick?"

"He had MS," she said. "He'd had it since I was ten, and he'd always kept on top of his medication and his therapy and everything. So - " She looked down at the perfectly clean counter and wiped it off again. "So when I was away at school and he told me he was doing fine, I believed him."

"He wasn't doing fine," Cisco guessed.

She shook her head. Tears burned in her eyes again. "It probably started small. Just little things falling through the cracks. Then the cracks got bigger, more things fell through. . . ."

He nodded. "They tend to do that."

"Mhm. Then last spring, he had an assistant manager who embezzled a lot of money - "

"What!"

"They caught him!" Caitlin assured him. "But most of the money was gone, and the stress of that just sent my dad's health into a tailspin. I'd just graduated so I moved back home to take care of him."

"And I'm gonna guess you were so wrapped up in that, you didn't even realize what was going on with the store until you took over."

She sighed. "Got it in one." She mustered up a smile. "I didn’t mean to dump that on you. It's bad now, but things will come around. They always do. The holidays are the best time of year to be a toy seller."

"Yeah," he said. "They sure are." He smiled back and gathered his purchases. "I'll tell people about this place."

"Great," she said. "Here's my card, by the way."

"Caitlin Snow," he read off the little rectangle of cardstock.

"That's me. Let me know if you have any particular collectibles you'd like me to obtain."

"Hmm?" He was looking at his phone. "Uh, yeah, if I think of any, I'll give you a shout. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she echoed, watching him leave. The jingle of the bell over the door echoed in the toy store's emptiness.

Walking back around the building to his car, Cisco snapped a pic of the business card Caitlin Snow had given him. Then he dialed a number on his phone and wedged it between his shoulder and his ear as he pulled on his gloves. "Hey, Iris? Got a moment?"

"Hi, Cisco. Half a moment. My editor's breathing down my neck again about finding some heartwarming story to fill up Sunday space."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that. What would you say to a struggling fifth-generation local toy store owner who just took over the business after her dad's death, carries everything from ZooFriends stuffies to high-end collectibles, and knows toys backwards and forwards?"

Iris paused and he could practically hear the gears clicking. "Tell me more."

A week before Christmas, Cisco finally found a good excuse to drop by Jack Frost Toys again. With the name of a rare collectible action figure in his pocket, he turned into the parking lot and found it jam packed. He finally managed to wedge his little car into a space half on the gravel and climb out.

This was a good sign, right?

When he walked in the front door, the girl behind the counter wasn't Caitlin. "Welcome to Jack Frost Toys!" she called out before returning her attention to the grandma-looking lady at her counter. "We absolutely do gift certificates. How much would you like that for?"

The place was transformed. There was no other word for it.

When he'd come in the last time, it had been neat and bright and colorful, but empty and somehow sad. Now there were people in every aisle, voices ringing off the rafters. He cut down the doll aisle and almost stepped on a kid sprawled out on his belly, leafing through a colorful picture book. A little girl was staring at the Barbies as if she were deciding the fate of nations. A couple of moms were talking to each other over the Lego sets.

"It's just such a cute little place! It was getting so run-down there for awhile, but this new owner’s really spruced it up."

"I used to come here when I was Mandy's age and it always seemed like the most magical place to me. I'd forgotten all about it, honestly, but we're coming back."

Cisco smiled to himself and edged around them to the collectibles wall.

The door to the stock room opened and Caitlin came out, arms loaded down with what seemed to be flat-folded gift boxes. She stopped short when she saw Cisco. "Hi!"

"Hey," he said, smiling at her. She was wearing reindeer antlers and her hair was up in a bouncy ponytail. "You're busy."

"We are! I'm sorry, I've got to -"

"Yeah, go ahead."

She went to the front counter and stashed the gift boxes underneath. "Allegra," she said to the girl who'd greeted Cisco as he came in. "I just got off the phone with our supplier and they'll have more wrap here tomorrow. Can we hold out?"

"It'll be tight, but we should be okay."

"Great. I'll be back to cover your break in a few minutes, okay?"

"Take your time, I'm good."

Caitlin edged back around the counter and paused to check in with the moms. She considered their questions, looked around, and plucked a few sturdy wooden toys from a lower shelf. "I really like this designer for the textures they incorporate," she explained. "Babies enjoy being able to experience different kinds of material as they explore the toy, and it stimulates their brain development. Have a look at these. I'll be right here if you have any questions."

"Thanks so much."

She beamed and moved on.

Cisco watched her consult with the little Barbie lover and pick out a second book for the reader, as well as four or five other small interactions. It was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel or Einstein doing calculations on a chalkboard. She was in her element.

She came around the end of the aisle and spotted him again. Her face lit up. "I'm so glad you came by again." She threw her arms around him.

"Uh," he said. "Hi again to you too." He gave her a quick hug back.

She pulled away, blushing. "Sorry. I - I just wanted to thank you. I know the article in the paper was your doing."

"Oh," he said. "No, that was nothing. I just called up a friend. She's the one who did the interview and that great photo - "

Iris had been savvy enough to pose Caitlin by her display of the coveted ZooFriends toys. Cisco had noticed how bare the shelf looked now.

" - and you were the one who made this shop so amazing that once people knew it was still here, they came."

"But none of it would have happened if you hadn't put it in motion. You said I was your hero that day for having the Puffys, but you’re my hero now.

“Pshaw,” he said. “Like you said, nobody grows out of that.”

“But not everybody does something. So. Thank you."

"Well, you're welcome." He looked around. "So you're doing pretty good, it looks like."

She nodded, beaming. "People started coming in after that article, and PalmerTech asked me to purchase toys in bulk for the families at their company holiday party. All my part-time workers are doing as many hours as they can, and I'll be able to pay the rent for January and February, and if it keeps going like this, I can hire somebody to revamp the inventory system for ecommerce."

She ran out of breath and panted for a moment, her eyes bright.

Cisco had to smile back at her. "That's amazing."

She nodded. "I mean, we're still competing with Walmart and Amazon, and we still took a real hit from what Jay did. So we're not out of the woods, but this - " She looked around, eyes still bright. "This is going to give us some breathing room.

"I'm really glad."

She turned her smile back on him and stole his breath. "Sorry, I'm just chattering away, and - did you come by looking for something else? Another collectible?"

"Ah - well, I was planning to ask about the limited edition Star Wars figures they're talking about for next year."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to order any of those until March, but I can definitely get your contact information."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But actually it was an excuse."

Her brows crinkled. "An excuse?"

"I really wanted to come by and see if you wanted to go get coffee or something. Sometime." He looked around. "I mean, maybe not right now because it's still December and you're slammed, which is great, but - "

"I'd like that."

His stomach filled up with warmth, like drinking an entire mug of hot chocolate. "You would?"

"Very much."

They smiled shyly at each other until Allegra called out, "Caitlin? A little help?" She had a line that stretched halfway down the doll aisle.

"Oh!" Caitlin said. "Uh, I should - "

"Yeah! Go. I'll hang around until you're free, and then I'll get your phone number."

"Okay." She gave him one last smile before rushing up to the counter and opening up a register. "I can help who's next over here! Oh, sweetheart, that's a great choice. Your best friend is going to love it."

Cisco watched her for a moment, smiling to himself, and then turned to browse the collectibles. She'd been right, he mused. The holidays really were the best time of year to be a toy seller.

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #killervibe #12daysofkv20 #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #fluff #toy store AU #I know December is retail hell #allow me this fluff okay #the flash

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