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robertsheehanownsmyass · 5 years ago

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The Mists of Culloden -- Part 2

AU!Robert Sheehan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2099 Warnings: frightening images involving a fire

Welcome to my spooky little four-part story to coincide with my Sheehanoween event! I hope you stick around and check it out, and reblog if you enjoy! :)

Part One

Part Two

The next day, Rob was back at work and you spent a chunk of the afternoon reading a book on the sofa in the sitting room. The sunshine streamed through the windows, and it was such a lovely autumn day that you couldn’t help but reflect for a moment on how relaxed you felt, and how lucky you were to be cozied up on the couch, just enjoying life. After a while your eyelids started to droop, and you set the book down and stretched, feeling all tension leave your limbs, yawning contentedly. In the light of day, the spooky events of the previous evening seemed distant, and when you reflected on them, they seemed almost silly. You were still turning the thoughts over in your mind when you dozed off.

It was hot. Blazing hot. The air was thick with billowing smoke. The screams of dying men pierced your ears. It was pitch black and you could see nothing; no source of the heat or smoke, nor the source of the screams. You were running away, but from what? You ran until you reached a stone wall and you felt for a door or a window. Nothing. You followed the wall until you reached the end, and turned left to follow the perpendicular wall. You coughed and retched, barely able to breathe. You followed the wall until your feet bumped some stairs. You slowly ascended, stumbling blindly, the heat and the smoke worsening as you climbed. You reached a heavy wooden door that was not fully closed, and you pushed it open. You gaped in horror at the scene before you. The house was fully engulfed in flames, and you were literally frozen with panic. There was nowhere to go. Suddenly, a hand clamped down on your arm from behind you. You turned, and saw that a woman had grabbed you, and she was shrieking. "Help me! Heeelp meeee…“ Her hair was on fire and her skin was bubbling in some places and blackening in others. As you stared at her in terror, one of her eyeballs burst and oozed from a black socket. You began to scream, and scream and scream….

"Babe! Wake up! Hey!” Rob was shaking you, yelling your name. You snapped awake, and fell off the couch in a tumble of throw pillows and blankets. You stared up at him for a moment as reality slowly took the place of the terror from your dream. You were shaking. Rob was kneeling beside you on the ground, alarm painting his beautiful face. He brushed the hair away from your face. “Darlin’, are you okay?”

“Oh god. Robbie I-- I had the most horrible dream!”

“Jesus darlin’.” He breathed, and sat back on his heels, running a hand through his curls anxiously. “When I walked in you were sound asleep, but then you started thrashing about and-- babe, you started screaming. It took me a minute to wake you. It scared the shit outta me.“

"It was horrible. I was in some sort of cellar, and it was dark and people were crying and shouting. I made it upstairs and the whole house was in flames. Then a woman grabbed me and she was on fire, and I had nowhere to go…and god, she was burning...” You broke off, trembling.

Rob gathered you into his arms. “Oh luv, that sounds awful. It’s over now. It was just a dream. It’s alright.”

“It seemed so real!” you cried, the remnants of the nightmare still at the forefront of your mind.

He peppered your face with kisses and smoothed your hair. "I’m here now. Everything is okay..“

Rob’s calming effect on you was working, and you began to relax. "I can’t say for sure, but I’m pretty sure it was this house.”

“Oh darlin’, you had that scare last night, so your mind is probably just thinking nasty thoughts. It doesn’t look like there’s been a fire here.”

“I don’t know.” You stood up and scrubbed your face with your hands in an attempt to shake off the dream. “But I really want to find someone who can tell us a bit about this house.”

Rob nodded in agreement. "We will. We’ll go find someone on my next day off.“

***********************

You spent the evening burying yourself under a protective cover of normalcy, but the dream stayed with you. You couldn’t stop seeing the burning woman’s face, and you couldn’t keep those screams out of your head. You sat at the dinner table and began to rub your temples. Rob had finished clearing the supper dishes and came around to hug you.

"You’re thinking so loudly I can almost hear you,” he said into your hair. "You shouldn’t dwell on it too much. Old houses have a way of getting under your skin. Shit– Scotland can get under your skin.“

That surprised you. "I thought you loved Scotland.”

“I do,” he said. "But there is so much tragic history here, especially here at Culloden. Plus the weather can be moody and the landscape can seem pretty bleak. It’s like there is a veil of melancholy that is barely perceptible, but it’s everywhere.“

You nodded, understanding. You recalled your stop in Edinburgh before continuing north to the highlands, and your visit to Mary King’s Close; the underground passageway where plague victims were left to die like rats, and you shuddered at the memory. But that was only one example; Scotland had been a place of persecution and sadness for over a millennia.

"When I was a kid,” Rob continued, “I would come to Scotland to visit some cousins from time to time. There were always ghost stories, and the subject wasn’t considered very taboo like it is in other places. It was generally accepted.”

“Is Ireland very different, though?” you smiled. You loved hearing Robbie reminisce, and when he spoke of his memories the present seemed to fall away as he reinhabited those old thoughts.

“Believe it or not, yes. We all hear the stories about the bansidhe or banshees, or of faeries that would steal babies. And yeah, Ireland has its sprawling manors and castles that have ghosts of their own. But there’s something different about Scotland.”

“Yeah, I think I see what you mean now,” you said.

Rob studied you for a moment before commenting. "I don’t like the idea of you being here alone so much. Maybe tomorrow you should get out a bit. Go to Inverness and do some shopping. Have lunch on Loch Ness and look for the monster.“

You laughed. "That’ll be great for my mental state. Flee a haunted house to look for a legendary lake monster.”

Rob smirked. "Hey, do what you have to do. They’re both nearby. You liked those Outlander novels so much, go look for standing stone circles.“

"Alright, alright,” you chuckled. "I’ll try to get out tomorrow.“

*****************************

That night you slept rather uneasily. Despite Rob’s efforts to wear you out (you joked to him afterward that you suspected he had fractured your pelvis), you tossed and turned. You continued to torture yourself with horrifying images from your dream, and your mind seemed to be afraid of shutting down for fear of revisiting the gruesome past.

Despite the fact that you were groggy and out of sorts the following day, you took Rob’s advice and hired a car to take you to Inverness. You walked the cobblestone streets, poked into shops and bookstores, and enjoyed a delicious cafe lunch. It was a lovely city. On the way home, you asked the driver to detour south to Loch Ness. You walked down to a section of the rocky shore and sat for a while. While you didn’t see a monster, it was a beautiful place and the water calmed you.

On the way back, you stopped at Clava Cairn, a standing stone circle and cairn a bit southeast of Culloden, and probably served as the inspiration for the stone circle in the books you enjoyed. The site was deserted, and you were free to stroll among the 4000 year-old stones, gently touching them, relishing in the connection between the present and the distant past. Despite the fact that the central cairn was a burial site, you felt no sadness there, only peace.

You returned home feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Rob came home shortly afterward, and you told him all about your day. He was thrilled that you had taken his advice and had such a nice time. Your lightened mood lasted the rest of the evening, and that night you slept soundly.

The next two days passed without incident. Rob promised to take you to Culloden moor on his next day off, and the two of you set off after breakfast. The battlefield was a short 20 minute walk away, and you strolled hand-in-hand, enjoying the crisp air. The battlefield itself was a sobering place, and when you first laid eyes on it you felt a pang of sadness.

"I know,” Rob said, reading your expression. “This ground is seeped with loss and grief.”

He led you to the Visitor’s Centre, where a friendly middle-aged woman looked up over a pair of reading glasses as you entered.

“Hallo there,” she said and smiled kindly.

“Hello,” said Rob. "We were hoping you could give us some information about a house we’re staying in, just up the road.“

"Ah, you’ll be here for the film then. I’m Peggy.”

"It’s lovely to meet you Peggy,” you said. "We’re the Sheehans. We’re staying at the house just up the road; number 129.“

"Och aye, I know that place,” she said. “Quite a bit of history there.”

“Really? Is there anything you can tell us about it?” Rob asked.

Peggy nodded. "I believe the current structure was built around 1780.“

"The current structure?” Rob replied. “There was a house there before?”

“Aye,” she said. "There was an older house there before, but it burned. The newer house was built upon the foundation of the previous dwelling.“

You blanched and Rob glanced at you, shocked. Peggy smiled.

"I take it the old ghosts are acting up?” she asked.

“Ghosts?” you replied.

“Aye, everyone knows the place is haunted. You wouldna be the first people to come round here asking about it.”

“What happened there?” asked Rob.

She shook her head sadly. “Terrible things. After the battle here in 1746, the house was where a number of surviving Jacobite rebels sought refuge. It didna take long for the English to hunt them down. They actually promised the rebels safe-haven if they surrendered, only to line them up and shoot them after they exited the house. Many were too badly wounded to exit on their own, and some just didna trust the soldiers, so they hid in the cellar. The English barred the doors and set fire to the house, where everyone inside either burned alive or died from the smoke. The woman who owned the house and was aiding the rebels perished with the rest.”

You gasped, and Rob covered his mouth with his hands. “That’s horrifying,” you said. "Those poor people.“

"Aye,” Peg said. "Such was life for the Scots after the defeat. It continued for many years. The English punished them severely for the uprising, even people who had nothing to do wi’ it. The English werna interested in blame– they were making a point. They wanted to show all of Scotland what happened to people who dared challenge their authority.“

“I hope you don’t think I’m crazy,” you said. “But on our first night there, I saw a figure on the front lawn. It scared me half to death.”

“Aye, that must have been a shock,” she said sympathetically. “I canna say one way or another that you saw a spirit, but it doesna seem unlikely. Strange things have happened round here for as long as I can remember.”

You exchanged a look with your husband. What were you supposed to do with that?

You thanked Peggy for the information with as much composure you could muster, and left the visitor center numb with shock. You grabbed Rob’s arm the moment you were out of earshot. “What the fuck?” you hissed. “My dream. All the weird shit. What is going on?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I do know that I don’t want you staying there alone.” He hugged you close, and you could feel that his body was tense with worry. “We’re in this together; filming be damned. We’ll figure this out.”

(gif source) Part Three Tag list. Ask me to be added! @thisisarobertsheehanblog @joz-stankovich @robert-sheehan

#robert sheehan character fic #sheehanoween #mists of culloden #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan fanfic #halloween #spooky story

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29-pieces · 5 years ago

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Whumptober day 19 - Good Omens

Day 19: Mourning Loved One Fandom/setting: Good Omens, ~1970s Read on AO3 Read on FF.net

~*~

It was just easier as a snake. Easier to avoid eye contact, easier to keep his face from revealing any "emotion" or other such nonsense. Easier to carefully wrap himself in knots around the angel and assure himself that the corporation beneath his coils was alive, whole, and safe.

"I think you could do with some rest," Aziraphale told him again, settling back on the couch with his book. "Why don't you sleep for a while? I've nowhere to be."

The snake currently wrapped around his arm and torso didn't reply, just stuck his snout down into another coil and closed his eyes.

If they both ended up snoozing in a nest of blankets and scales, well that was just fine.

:::earlier:::

Aziraphale was screaming. And bleeding. The demons only laughed and held the Hellfire closer to his skin until it blistered and split. Crowley was screaming too, voice raw with it by now. He knew the angel couldn't withstand the Hellfire much longer, and then the screams silenced and Aziraphale's eyes clouded over, leaving Crowley on his own.

:::earlier:::

Aziraphale reached a trembling hand towards Crowley, dragging himself over the ground and leaving streams of blood in his wake. The Hellhound pounced on his back with a vicious snarl, hackles raised and teeth exposed. Crowley shouted for him, but it seemed to be the signal the Hellhound was waiting for and it struck like a viper, fangs burying themselves in Aziraphale's neck so the angel choked and gurgled on a bloody cry before falling still.

:::earlier:::

Heaven had found out about their Arrangement, had learned that Aziraphale had given Crowley the precious holy water. The building housing Heaven and Hell was silent. Aziraphale's lifeless body hung suspended by hooks and chains on the ground floor, a grisly reminder for anyone who walked in the door what happened if the status quo wasn't maintained, a cold, stark reminder that Gabriel and Beelzebub came from the same stock.

:::earlier:::

Aziraphale was dead.

:::earlier:::

Crowley was the one who got Aziraphale killed.

:::eventually:::

Aziraphale gripped his sword tightly, wishing it was his flaming, angel sword, but any blade should do. He prowled through the dockyards, eyes and ears perked for any sign of his quarry. He would have liked to wait on Crowley for this, truth be told; after all, an echidna was half serpent, maybe a snake demon would have been naturally predisposed to be able to fight her better. But he'd been unreachable and this wasn't something Aziraphale could allow to continue until he got Crowley on the line.

The slithering of scales on rotten wood and desiccated leaves drew the angel's attention. He readjusted his grip on the sword and hurried in the direction of the sound. A derelict old office stood to one side, shuffling noises leading Aziraphale to the doorway. He took a breath, then raised his sword and dashed around the corner, only to stumble to a halt at the sight before him. He'd found his demon friend—strung up by his wrists to dangle over the dirty floor. Crowley's head was hanging limp, glasses gone and eyes closed. The monster he was hunting was sniffing his neck, her lower serpent half teasing its way around Crowley's leg.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped, hardly the battle cry to strike fear into the heart of the echidna. The half-snake, half-woman turned to eye him with arrogance and irritation.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Never mind, pet, you'll jussst have to wait your turn."

"What have you done to him?" the angel demanded, pointing his sword at the creature. "Speak, I command you!"

The echidna sniffed. "I'm not under your command," she retorted. A long, forked tongue slipped past her lips and she licked the many puncture marks dotting Crowley's neck. "Mmm, thissss one is delicioussss. Watch thisss."

Before Aziraphale could stop her, the echidna's jaw unhinged, fangs protruding like something from a horror film, and she sank them deep into Crowley's throat yet again. A second later, the unconscious demon started to twitch and moan, swiftly building up through cries to full-blown howls. Tears streamed down his face but he showed no sign of true consciousness even once his yellow eyes opened.

"Stop!" the angel cried. "Leave him alone, foul beast!"

"Beassst?" the echidna hissed with a short laugh. "Everyone'sss got to eat, after all. Relax, thanksss to my venom, he hasss no idea what'sss happening." She giggled again and licked at the puncture wounds once more, much to Aziraphale's disgust.

His eyes flicked back to the demon, currently sobbing with pain or terror or both. Aziraphale had never seen Crowley in such a state, in all of their years together. Then, the demon whimpered, actually whimpered, and choked out,

"Please, Hastur, no..."

Aziraphale straightened, grip once again tightening as he demanded, "Hastur- he's hallucinating! That's what your venom does?"

"Mm," she agreed contentedly. "Ssshowssss them their mosssst terrible nightmaresss. You've no idea, the tasssste of adrenaline as hissss deepessst fearsss come true before hissss eyessss..."

Crowley's most terrible nightmares? Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face at the mere thought; as a demon, Crowley would be all too familiar with the worst torments of Hell, and the idea of him reliving a single second he might have spent there or the constant fears of what they could do to him, no, it was simply too much to bear thinking of. With a furious shout, Aziraphale thrust his sword towards the echidna and attacked.

The battle was short-lived and ended with her slain on the floor and Aziraphale rushing to get Crowley down. The demon's hands were bloodless from having been bound so tight, ligature marks already standing out stark against his pale skin as Aziraphale wrested the ropes off of his hands.

"Crowley," he called, patting his friend's cheeks carefully. "Oh please wake up... my poor dear, you're not in Hell! Come back!" Even as he said it, though, Aziraphale knew there was most likely nothing to do but wait until the venom worked its way out of his system.

But not here, in the dirty, dilapidated building on his own. Trying to ignore the sobs and moans that he never wanted to hear coming from Crowley ever again, Aziraphale scooped the demon up in his arms and headed back out into the night.

Crowley had a flat somewhere, Aziraphale knew, but he'd never been to it and wasn't sure exactly how to get to it. In this state, he didn't want to simply leave the demon anywhere; best get him back to the bookshop, then. Hopefully none of the angels would pop down for a report on the affair. That would be a trifle difficult to explain, why a hallucinating demon was laid out on his sofa.

By the time they reached the safety of the bookshop, Crowley's condition was none better. Not sure what else to do, Aziraphale fetched a cool rag and contented himself to mop off the demon's brow. Crowley's eyes were open but faraway, trapped in whatever horrible nightmares of Hell his brain could concoct, and Aziraphale knew he had quite the imagination—a curse, in this instance.

Finally, after far too long, the demon slipped off into a fitful sleep. Even that seemed to be no mercy, as Crowley continued to thrash and cry out, sometimes even calling for Aziraphale—that was the worst, as the angel couldn't imagine what torments he was seeing and of course had no way to save him from it.

Finally, finally, Crowley's eyes peeled open once more, filled with trauma and pain.

"There you are, my dear," Aziraphale said softly, settling himself beside the demon on the couch. "Are you awake?"

For a moment, Crowley stared blankly at him, then gasped like he was taking his first breath and shot up on the couch.

"Angel-" He got no further, throwing his arms around a thoroughly shocked Aziraphale.

"Oh! Um... yes, it's me-"

"Aziraphale... you're alright... you- you're alive... you're alive!"

Well, that wasn't at all the reaction he'd been expecting. Aziraphale patted the demon's back, clearing his throat. "Erm, yes, I'm quite well. You were caught by that awful echidna, do you remember? She was poisoning you, I'm afraid, making you see your worst-"

"You were dead," Crowley blurted out, clinging all the tighter to Aziraphale, nearly wrapping himself completely around the angel. "You were dead, over and over and over, and I couldn't stop it, I- are you alright? Really and truly, you're alright? You're okay? Aziraphale?"

The angel was at a loss for words. But... that echidna... she'd distinctly said it would be Crowley's worst nightmare he'd be experiencing, but surely that had to be Hell? Torments untold? He'd even mentioned Hastur specifically...

"I'm alright," he said slowly. "Whatever you've been seeing, none of it was real. I assumed it would be Hell..."

"Hell, Heaven, everything in between," Crowley choked out. "They kept hurting you- killing you, I thought you were dead. I thought..." He coughed and pulled away, cheeks pink as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Er, anyway, no reason to make a scene. I'll just... I should go..."

"You're in no condition!" Aziraphale immediately protested, still trying to sort out in his mind how his own death could be Crowley's worst nightmare when the demon had literally lived in Hell. A mistake on the echidna's part, perhaps. An exaggeration, no doubt, about Crowley's "worst" nightmare rather than just any old uncomfortable one. Surely.

Either way, he couldn't bear the thought of Crowley being alone right now. "You've been kidnapped and poisoned and I won't hear of you going anywhere until you've had a proper sleep, not the sort she did to you. It's quite safe here. Why don't you curl up and have a little rest? Er, just until you- Crowley, I'm sorry but why are you looking at me like that?"

The demon didn't say a word, just continued to stare at him with fearful, watery eyes. Aziraphale coughed, then suggested,

"You're shivering. I'm going to fetch some more blankets. Make yourself comfortable, my dear, because I won't hear of you leaving until I'm convinced all the negative effects have worn off."

Nodding decisively, Aziraphale stood to go gather some more flannel throws and warm quilts, knowing how cold Crowley could get at times. When he got back to the couch, he was surprised to find a serpent coiled up on the cushions.

"Oh, Crowley..."

"Thought you were dead," the snake repeated, burying his head in his coils. "I- I thought..."

Shaking his head, Aziraphale sat down beside the snake and picked up a book that had been sitting on the table next to it. "Well, I'm still alive and kicking, as you see," he reassured the demon. "No need to fret. Now then, I think I'll just sit here for a while and read my book. Stay, won't you?"

Then he pointedly turned all his attention to the book at hand so as not to embarrass Crowley if the demon needed closer comfort. Sure enough, the snake slowly wound himself around his arm and chest as though just feeling Aziraphale there beneath his scales was the grounding proof he needed that the angel was still there, quite alive and whole. He'd expected Crowley wouldn't want any comments on the matter, so was surprised when a small voice hissed,

"You're not going anywhere...?"

Heavens, that venom must have done more damage than Aziraphale had thought. Crowley rarely made himself so vulnerable, so the angel kept his voice as light as possible. "Not in the slightest. I think you could do with some rest. Why don't you sleep for a while? I've nowhere to be."

Crowley nodded and closed his yellow eyes, burying his head again. It actually was quite comfortable there, laid out on the couch in the nest of blankets with the serpentine coils holding him carefully. Maybe a light snooze wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Breathing deeply, Aziraphale settled in, feeling warm in body and heart.

#whumptober2020 #no.19 #mourning loved one #good omens #fanfiction #Crowley whump #my poor snek boi #aziraphale to the rescue

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utopianvoices · 6 years ago

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dating au | p.seonghwa

⤗ check my masterlist for other members!

how he acts around you

the “i’m rly smooth around you but dies when you’re not around” kind

the biggest flirt

will throw you pick up lines for every. single. situation

you trip over something?

“woah watch out... we don’t want you falling for anything else but me.”

you’re sharpening your pencil?

“life without you is like that pencil... pointless.”

basically anything you do, he’s got a pick up line for that

he does it so excessively that instead of showing you signs that he likes you, you just start to think that he does that with everyone else

and that you are no special

reader you aren’t the brightest crayon

the members definitely know what’s up tho

will threaten it out of him

“we’ll thrash the whole dorm if you don’t speak up right now.”

“the dorm already looks thrashed you’re not making a difference.”

but this isn’t about sassy seonghwa

this is about his crush on you

whenever you’re around, you’ll realise that they tease seonghwa and you every time he says something cheesy to you

you weren’t very good at reading people but you knew when someone was uncomfortable

no you don’t

and seonghwa looked uncomfortable when the members were teasing the both of you

but that’s just because he was scared you’d find out

so you took the liberty to clear the air

“guys stop that. seonghwa and i don’t like each other in that way.”

well ouch....... you just broke this big baby’s heart

how he confesses

after you broke his heart

he’ll be convinced that you had no feelings for him

and will stop with all the cheesy pick up lines

the whole atmosphere shifts 180 between the both of you

it gets really awkward when you both are in the same room that the members have literally gotten up and left because they couldn’t stand it

at first you thought that it was because he was stressed about something

but when it didn’t stop and just grew more and more awkward, you’d confront him about it

asking him if you did anything wrong for him to act so weird around you

and he spills the beans

literally

he was holding a can of beans to prepare for dinner and dropped the whole can when you asked him that question

rip beans

he just stares at the spilled beans and lets out a sigh, contemplating if he should tell you why he was acting so weird around you

you take a step closer to him, giving him the push he needed to say it

“i actually really like you. and after you said you didn’t have feelings for me i just thought that i should keep my distance.”

let’s just pause right there

and rewind a little bit

he likes you? and your dumbass thought you were helping him by pretending you didn’t have feelings for him so that it wouldn’t get weird

so you tell him just that

“i-i like you too. i just thought the boys teasing us together was making you uncomfortable so i told them that to shut them up.”

he immediately whips his head up and you can see the smile slowly spreading on his face

it’s the cutest you’ve ever seen him tbh

probably just beams at you until someone shouts at him to clean up the beans because it was going to attract roaches and they didn’t want mingi to start screaming

first date

most probably a fancy dinner

at a fancy ass restaurant

my boy here is a whole ass gentleman

with top class manners

holds the door open for you when you enter the restaurant, pulls out your chair for you, helps you with your napkin

just marry him

during dinner you’ll have such a great time together, talking about the posh people around you

at one point, you let out a loud laugh because of something seonghwa said, attracting rich glares from all the high-class snobs there, causing the both of you to laugh harder

after dinner, the both of you leave the restaurant and go to a nearby local shop for dessert, because he had just emptied his wallet for that meal and wasn’t going to spend another $10 on a tiny lava cake that wouldn’t be enough for even one of you

you both get ice cream and sit out in the open, carefree laughs filling the air as you exchange jokes and stories

once you’re done, he walks you home, shrugging the jacket off his shoulder to wrap it around you because it would be a sin to leave out that classic first date move

walks you all the way to the door and just stands outside with you, none of you wanting to leave each other

which leads me to my next long-awaited point

first kiss

definitely planned it

he even made a small chart of the whole date while he was still back in the dorm

so there you were, standing in front of him looking cute af, waiting for him to say something

and he does

“can i kiss you?”

will not do it if you’re not ready for it

but who wouldn’t be ready

so you shyly take a step forward, indicating your positive reply, and he takes it as his cue to do what he’s been wanting to do the whole night

wraps his arms around you and slowly leans in, giving you the softest and sweetest kiss ever

your hands softly grip the front of his shirt as one of his hands moves up to cup your cheeks, his touch as light as a feather

when you part, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “wow”, causing you to giggle shyly

and boy oh boy did his heart do a thousand flips at that sound

gives you a small kiss on your forehead before sending you in, not leaving until he’s sure you’re safe inside

it was one of the best days he’s had and 10/10 would do it again

first fight

this was the most difficult to write

because fights can happen anytime and anywhere because of anything

but one of the first few fights you’d have is probably because of seonghwa’s tidiness

you would have had a terrible day, and all you wanted to do was go home and sleep

but that wasn’t really possible because of seonghwa’s nagging, telling you to clean the place or do the dishes or wtv you were supposed to do

on normal days you’d just whine and get up and do it

but that day wasn’t a normal day

so you snapped, and it wasn’t pretty

you probably end up saying something hurtful

and he’d definitely be shocked at first, not expecting you to snap

slowly, as he goes over your words, the hurt seeps in and he leaves the room without arguing back because he knows it’s only going to make things worse

you definitely regret what you said right after you say it, but you give yourself some time to collect yourself before you head out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend

you find him sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the tv

and oh boy do you feel guilty

scared that you’d be overriding his space, you sit down a safe distance away from him, fumbling with your fingers as you think of what to say

finally you just decide to keep it simple and tell him what went wrong and why you were being so mean

all while reinstating the fact that none of it was his fault and that you were to blame completely

maybe you shed a few tears while talking

seeing this, he just sighs and pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you while whispering a soft “it’s okay baby”

and maybe you cried more hearing that

because your man had a heart made of gold

you’d probably have to do the chores for the rest of the week as punishment though

favourite things to do together

he’d love love LOVE to build figurines with you

his gundam figurines

to him, it’s the perfect way to bond

his favourite is the petty arguments you both have over which way is the correct way to assemble it

when there’s a whole instruction sheet lying right next to y’all screaming “read me crackheads”

but where’s the fun in following instructions

he’d probably give in to your way, just watching as you happily try to assemble the figurine, frowning once you realise the you were in the wrong the whole time and that seonghwa was right

you’d never admit it though

“actually maybe we should just do it your way, since i’m feeling a bit generous today.”

plays along with you and you both finally finish assembling it

what takes usually an hour, takes at least three hours when it’s you both assembling it together

because y’all are always distracted

petty arguments over who’s right

and many many many stolen kisses

general affection

wouldn’t usually initiate cuddles but will never reject them

if u wanna cuddle then he was gonna cuddle the fuk out of you

you’d come back and just fall on him if he was laying on the sofa

or if he was in the kitchen, you’d just walk over and slump against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist

if you were already lying down, his arms will be around you, while your head rested on his chest, the both of you talking about your respective days

if you were to back hug him, he’d turn around in your arms and give you a soft forehead kiss that usually says “i’m busy right now but i’ll cuddle you later”

is honestly more of a kisser than hugger

keeps pda to a minimum—nothing more than a hand on your waist in public or in front of the members

but in private, damn

doesn’t know the meaning of the words ‘personal’ and ‘space’

will randomly kiss you

you could be walking past him and he’ll just pull you in and give you a quick kiss and pretend like nothing happened

i feel like he’ll be a very passionate kisser

other than pecks, when he’s really kissing you, definitely puts in as much emotion as he can

ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ

definitely the type to combat jealousy by making out

talking about jealousy

gets jealous very easily

not that he doesn’t trust you, but he just doesn’t like the idea of others thinking of you in ways that only he should be thinking

other than the members, any other guy you talk to gets the stank face from him

unless they’ve earned a pass, which is pretty rare

but if he still ends up being jealous, you better prepare yourself to be attacked with kisses when you’re home

ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒʷ

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa #dating au series #dee scribbles #woooo my first ateez fic #hope y'all like it huhu #<33

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an-annyeoing-writer · 6 years ago

Text

Baekhyun x Reader: complications. [secret agent!AU]

Tagged: @baekonsforbreakfast thx for the inspiration bby LOL, @marimsun, @lisilki, @anolovo

Something weird happened in this fic. No idea what.

Never in your three years old experience of an agent, had you been put under as much stress as Byun Baekhyun was giving you.

Not because he was trying to break free, because he clearly wasn’t. Not because he knew too much, nor because the situation was tense overall, because honestly, this mission was just too easy, all you had to do was to make sure he doesn’t get involved in the battle that was going on somewhere nearby, as he’d been considered too much of an advantage for the enemy, although still - for unknown reason - too worthy to just shoot down.

So you’ve been stuck with him for two hours now and for the love of God, the man just wouldn’t shut up.

He talked about literally everything. Starting from complaining that he was supposed to be somewhere and you were intruding in his business - completely disregarding the gun in your hand - and then talking about how stupid the whole war between your agencies was, and he’d feel personally better if there was a world peace, then whining about low salaries in this shitty job, and ending on how your hair looked really, really soft and if he wasn’t tied to this stupid chair he’d gladly take you out on a date so that he could touch it without shame.

At this point you were amazingly proud of yourself that you haven’t shot him down just yet, but it was - seriously - getting worse with every passing minute, and you cursed yourself for not preparing anything to successfully gag your hostage with. The room was fairly empty though, with nothing but his chair and your sofa to sit on, and you’ve been clearly instructed not to leave him out of your sight, to which you were ready to comply, knowing how tricky some personalities could be. You were ready to believe that the very moment you turned your back to him, he’d sneak up behind you and slice your throat with his own fingernails.

Speaking of which.

“I’ll snap your fingers if you don’t shut up” you suddenly announced, the first thing you spoke in the past hour (until now you really believed he’d go silent if you ignored him for long enough. You were wrong).

“Ah! She spoke! Such a beautiful voice!” he rambled, and you whimpered, burying face in your hands. “Shame she’s not as clever as pretty she is.”

You felt your heart thump in your chest, suddenly fully aware of the danger you’d been dismissing for such a long time. Your instincts screamed, albeit a tad too late for you to be able to stop the unstoppable.

You raised your gun at the same moment as the man stood up from his chair, but, without missing the beat, he grasped the chair, swinging it and knocking the gun out of your hand, hitting your fingers on its way, at which you whimpered in pain.

He was fast. Damn, way faster than what you remembered from when you caught him. Why did he let you catch him in the first place if he was better than you? And how the heck did he break free?

So many questions suddenly appeared in your head, but you knew better than to ask them now. Especially when the man pushed the chair forward, pinning your chest underneath it before you could actually defend yourself.

With your chest immobile, you still had your legs to use, and you reached with them, trying to kick his crotch. He was too fast for you to manage, but he still had to move away to avoid the contact, which gave you the opportunity to push the chair off and throw yourself in the gun’s direction.

But yet again, he was too fast, and he had you fall face-first into the floor, straddling you and with a hand on the nape of your neck, pushing you downwards in case you tried to raise yourself. You had literally no leverage to use, his strength and weight were enough to trap you down there.

“...Fuck” you huffed.

“Watch your tongue, beautiful” Baekhyun spoke, his voice just as careless as before, except for now he didn’t sound like an overexcited puppy anymore, he was pretty calm and sly, so sly you wanted to punch the smirk off his own pretty face.

“Watch your back” you snapped back, and he automatically glanced over his shoulder. But your attempt to use his distraction to your advantage didn’t work, his reflex was enough to deem you unsuccessful. He laughed at your attempt, genuinely amused, as if you were a delightful source of entertainment.

“Okay then, I really mean you no harm, but I can’t let you go like this, either. Where are you keeping your walkie-talkie, hm?” His hands traveled down your back, ghosting over your sides in an unpleasantly intrusive way, only to take a small communicator out of your pocket and take a good look at it. You had no idea what he’s doing with it until the moment you heard familiar voice coming from the speakers, and you opened your mouth to speak, which earned you a warning blow in the back of your head, one that pushed your nose into the floor and made you groan lowly.

“Agent Sixteen?”

“Bernie! Long time no hear” your former hostage spoke casually, and from the speakers, you heard a long, annoyed groan, clearly a reaction to the man’s voice.

Oh, what a mood.

“What y’all up to lately? It’s the fourth time they send someone to keep me away. Are there some troubles in the HQ?”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by the words. What HQ? Wasn’t he an enemy?

“We’re doing you a favor. It’s a freaking mess there, we’re giving you an excuse not to engage.”

“It’s a very shitty favor. How will I explain that no one died in this little hostage scheme? And besides, how will I explain I’ve been taken hostage by some kid who’s like thrice weaker than me?”

You squinted your eyes, swinging your arm to hit him with your elbow, more annoyed than actually trying to break free at this point, but undoubtedly knowing that he just offended you.

“Jesus, we just didn’t have anyone else, don’t be so harsh on her” the man in the speaker requested in a dull voice. “Just knock her out or something.”

“On which side you are?!” you growled at the communicator, starting to thrash underneath the agent’s body. The movements weren’t enough to let you break free, but the sudden shaking “successfully” knocked the communicator out of his hands, and the device fell onto the floor, falling apart and losing the connection.

A short silence fell upon the two of you.

“...Congrats” he deadpanned.

You let out a defeated sigh.

“What now?” you asked, already done with the whole situation.

“Now?” The man smiled widely at you. “Now you’re my hostage. And I’ll snap your fingers if you don’t finally let me take you out.”

#exo baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo secret agent au #exo secret agent #exo mafia au #baekhyun #agent baekhyun #vg: baekhyun #vg: exo #vg: drabble

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firebirdsdaughter · 6 years ago

Text

Random Writing Preview…

… The parents are out! Write angst!

Ahem. I’m kidding.

But I did write angst.

So. That ep about a Minusaur attaching itself to Asuna’s heart reminded me of an idea I had. Long time ago.

So, anyone remember the scorpion arc from Hurricaneger? Something like that crossed w/ that ep of GoGoV where the team gets those flowers attached to them that will only come off if they die, but will release a deadly pollen if they bloom.

Basically, the premise of this idea is that Banba gets hits hit w/ something from a Minusaur that implants a weird parasite thing in his heart and respiratory system that attaches itself to him and is slowly and painfully killing him, and if it finishes growing it will release a lethal toxin that will kill everything within a certain radius. They try killing the Minusaur, but attacking it weirdly seems to make the thing grow faster.

The reason everyone is so at the end of their rope here is that they’ve literally been watching him suffer all day and maybe more, and the thing is getting close to releasing the toxin.

Also some other stuff happened, so there’s extra tension. But Tsk tsk, no spoilers now! XD

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Melto reentered the room completely silently, crossing the floor to touch Kou and Asuna’s elbows. Both wrenched their eyes away from where Banba had temporarily gone quiet on the sofa to look at Blue—and found his expression one of absolute misery. Taking a deep breath, he jerked his head toward the other room, then reached over to tap Kanaro’s shoulder to indicate the same before turning and trudging in that direction himself. The three of them hesitated for a moment, glancing anxiously down at Touwa, still kneeling and hunched over his brother’s side. Ui, beside him with a hand on his shoulder, glanced back up at them nodded slight. Finally, the other three turned and followed Melto, Kou hesitating for an extra moment before turning and trotting after.

Herding into the other room, they found Melto brooding in the corner, still looking like the world was ending. “… I have an idea.” He announced, in a dreadful tone.

“That… Feels like you should look happier about it.” Kanaro’s tone and expression were apprehensive, and he was carefully eyeing Blue like he could find some clue in the other Ryusoulger’s appearance.

It was hard not to agree. Melto’s expression and demeanour were not those of someone who had thought of a surefire way to save their teammate. Especially when his response to Gold’s observation was another dejected sigh. “… It’s not a good one.” He admitted.

“I can’t think of anything much worse than this.” Kou pointed out, glancing back over his shoulder at the others.

Asuna nodded, her expression equally somber. “Let’s hear it, Melto.”

Blue bit his lip, looking deliberately at the wall to their left rather than at them. “… The parasite is interwoven into his heart and respiratory system. It’s literally using his body to keep itself alive and growing, and it’s so fused at this point that trying to remove it would be fatal for him.” Another profoundly unhappy sigh. “But… That also means the reverse is true.”

Kou blinked at him. “What?” On Red’s other side, Kanaro was slowly going whiter than a sheet.

“It’s essentially become a part of him, now.” Melto said, more slowly, like he was trying to think out each word as he went. “So, that means…” He swallowed nervously, “… That means… If he dies… It dies.”

They stared at him. “… You want us to kill Banba?!” Asuna’s voice shot upward into a shriek, and the other three quickly shushed her, sending glances back to the other room, worried that Touwa might have heard.

“I don’t mean literally!” Melto hissed back quickly. “But the heart can be stopped for about six minutes before the brain starts to die.” He looked like he was ready to break down in tears, only just barely keeping his voice level. “If we stop his heart just long enough for the parasite to die, then restart it-”

“And what if it takes longer than six minutes to die?” Pink demanded, remembering to keep her voice hushed that time, though her hands were balled into fists at her sides. “What if we can’t restart it? There’s too many risks!”

“And what are our other options, then?” Melto snapped back, voice cracking. “Attacking the Minusaur makes it worse! And if that thing finishes growing, it won’t just kill him, but us and who knows how many other people when it releases that toxin!”

“So, what? You’d rather do the job ourselves? Are you really that heartless?!”

“Do not mistake my ability to reason for apathy!”

They were in each other’s faces at that point, and Kou rushed forward with the intention of parting them—until it was all interrupted by another horrible sound from the other room, making them all look. Banba was thrashing again, hands clawing at his chest like he was desperately trying to rip the thing out himself. Touwa threw himself over his brother’s torso to try and hold him still, grabbing Banba’s hands and pulling them away before he could hurt himself, as Black let out another choked half-scream—still trying to smother his suffering even in this state. It was like razors cutting through their chests as the fit continued, forcing Ui to grab his legs to help hold him still, and they could only watch in horror until Banba quieted again—though he continued twitching and whimpering faintly, and neither Ui nor Green risked letting go of him.

Melto stumbled a step toward the couch, reaching weakly for the door frame, clinging to it for support, like it alone was holding it up. He watched for another moment, tears finally brimming in his eyes, then turned quickly away. Swallowing again, he looked over at Asuna. “… It’s this, or just watch him suffer.” He whispered, the tears slowly spilling over. “I… I can’t take this anymore.” Asuna swallowed, looking down at her feet. Blue sagged against the door frame, taking deep, shuddering breaths. “At… At least, if we try this, we’ll know we did everything we could.” His hands curled into fists on the frame. “And… Even if it fails…” He looked back at their still-thrashing teammate. “… At least he won’t be in pain anymore.”

There was a long silence, save for Banba’s agony across the room, heightening the tension between them all. Neither Melto nor Asuna moved, and Kanaro was leaning heavily on the wall, white as a ghost and looking ready to vomit. Kou moved slowly to stand between Blue and Pink, looking sorrowfully at her, rubbing his arm nervously. “… Asuna…” He began softly, his voice shaking, “… I agree with Melto.” Asuna continued staring at her shoes for a bit, her hands still clutched into fists—until her breath hitched, and she sank to the floor, tears spilling down her face, as well. Kou fumbled for her shoulder, squeezing it as best he could, taking a deep, trembling breath. Swallowing, he made himself speak again. “But…” The other three raised their heads slightly to look at him. “… The final choice isn’t ours to make.”

Pulling his hand off Asuna’s shoulder, Red staggered sluggishly back to the door, grabbing one of the tables for support. “… Touwa?” His voice broke completely over the other Ryusoulger’s name. For a moment, he wasn’t sure Green had heard—but then Touwa stilled completely. Slowly, he released his brother’s hands—which thankfully did not start clawing at his chest again, and Black’s spasms had largely faded—getting to his feet, then turning to look at them. He looked like a small child trying to be strong, eyes full of tears, struggling to keep his composure. Sitting on the floor, Ui also moved back, looking between them all. Stabilising himself with the tables, Kou crossed the room to stand in front of Green. “… He’s your brother.” Behind him, Melto, Asuna, and Kanaro watched anxiously.

Touwa opened his mouth, then closed it. Swallowing, he glanced back at the anguished etched so deep into Banba’s features. Looking back up, he squared his little shoulders, meeting Kou’s gaze with all the conviction of a knight.

“… We do it.” He concluded hoarsely, lifting his chin, hands curling into fists around the hem of his over shirt. “But… I have to be the one who stops his heart.”

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I am also in the middle of writing Zero-One angst, but I took a break to give my mind a rest. I also fully intend to finish Fair Trade, aka my other ‘Banba literally dies’ fic before writing this.

And, believe it or not, I am still working on that fake Masters thing.

#Random Writing Preview #Kishiryu Sentai Ryusoulger #my precious Dino Children #Can You Feel The Angst Tonight?#I CAN #oh yeah I meant to update my profile w/ the 'Angstbird' thing #anyway #I wrote something!#Yay!#and yes this is the thing Iw as talking about when I mentioned forgetting Cannoli #sorry dude!#still kinda ended up forgetting him… ^^;#Birthday Sentai #Dino Dragon Knights And Their Cat

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remuslxpns · 7 years ago

Note

remus/sirius + all of them

and here it is @siriusdisaster

how did they first kiss?

One night over a few drinks, they each slowly confessed their feelings-, Remus still not believing any of it. When they kissed, Remus swore his head was going to blow off. That’s how it was.

2. who flirts more?

Sirius loves making Remus blush because oh does that boy blush. Sirius can wake up and say good morning beautiful and Remus would be a flustered mess.how did the relationship start?

3. how did they start living together? do they move? how do they choose the place?

It was a silent mutual decision after school, the marauders would live together. They had already lived together for seven years and it only made sense. Until, Peter and James decided to stay at home. For the first few weeks, Remus and Sirius did live together. It just felt right having his best friend only a room away. Even though it was only a room away Remus felt a pang of distance knowing during school they were in the same room. They found the muggle flat by chance and word of mouth. It was settled in London and very near Diagon Alley which was perfect for them.

4. do they have roommates?

For a few weeks or a month, Remus and Sirius lived alone until James knocked on the door with bags.It was an immediate mutual decision for James to stay with them for however long necessary. The flat only had two rooms, but James had no problem staying on the couch. (al though there might be a hole in the wall very near Remus’ room now because his roommates got creative)

5. do they get married (or equivalent)?

After James and Lily died, Sirius was instantly arrested and Remus went into hiding, blocking anyone and everyone out for years.

6. do they have kids?

7. do they have pets?

Yes, Sirius’ dog.

8. do they act different in public and at home?

Remus is much more reserved in public, thinking sometimes hand holding is a lot. At home though he barely leaves Sirius’ side, wanting to be curled next to him for however long or until Sirius moves to get up.

9. big spoon/little spoon?

Sometimes Remus will wake up in the middle of other night with another nightmare. Depending if he begins to thrash or scream, Sirius will run into his room and hold up. Or Remus will push himself off the bed and go to Sirius’ room like a child who had a nightmare. They fall asleep, Sirius holding Remus. Remus loves being the big spoon in any other circumstance. In the kitchen when he comes up behind him in the morning, on the couch when they are just wanting to talk.

10. sleeping habits?

Remus will wake up in the middle of the night, wanting to be held (see above). Remus loves sleeping and will sleep until he’s late for something or someone wakes him up. He does not move and you should not wake him up. The only person allowed is Sirius who Remus will give a morning tired smile to. Sirius usually sprawls on the bed without a care and Remus will find himself a spot curled up next to him.

11. favorite non-sexual activity?

Remus loves combing his fingers through Sirius’ hair and sometimes does it subconsciously. It centers him and grounds him and makes him calm. Remus will read regardless if Sirius falls asleep on his shoulder, he will keep reading.

12. favorite sexual activity?

Remus worst habit is flushing all too much and Sirius loves watching Remus get flustered. It’s almost like a game to see how much he can push Remus by teasing him. His flustering gets quickly turned into neediness when he can’t resist Sirius anymore and needs him in every way. Sirius loves the little sounds Remus makes when he’s going down on him.

There will be times that Remus needs Sirius and will make the first move. His approach is teasing as well and it’s almost out of character that it drives Sirius insane. Remus will roll his hips against Sirius or sit in his lap if they’re on the couch.

13. how often do they have sex?

It starts with a kiss and then deepens. Remus always wants Sirius and the feeling is mutual. There will be days when he is just exhausted and needs Sirius when he comes home.

14. what habits of the other drives them crazy?

Sometimes Remus will leave a mess in the kitchen from his early breakfast makings, coffee grounds or tea that missed the mug but found its way on the counter. Sirius will sometimes leave soot from the fireplace from flooing or the bike.

15. how often do they fight?

There fighting is mostly kept to a minimum because they know each other inside and out. When they do fight it’s because Remus drowns himself in self pity and doesn’t believe anything Sirius says. Either Sirius gets defensive depending on how the fight goes or comforts Remus in every single way.

16. most trivial thing they fight over?

The War. Remus is terrified of everything shooting at them but mostly if Ministry will begin arresting unregistered werewolves. The fear trickles into him every day and manifests into his mind. Remus doesn’t want Sirius to be a liability for him, knowing his chances are getting smaller every day.

17. who uses all the hot water?

Sirius. Remus doesn’t make anything about it and usually joins him in the shower. To save water.

18. who does most of the cleaning?

There will be days Remus would rather do nothing, but if he sees a mess on the table he’ll clean it up. Then it begins and he won’t stop cleaning. There will be so many household charms helping him clean, but he takes care of most of it.

19. what do they watch on tv and do they fight for the remote?

(modern au: Sirius has his shows and movies that he wants to watch. Usually they are very graphic and Remus will fight Sirius until they change the channel to something more family friendly.)

20. who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working?

Remus and ignores when the landlord sighs impatiently and says ‘again?’

21. who answers the phone?

Sirius will rush to the phone even if Remus gets up and says he will. Then he pinches the bridge of his nose when he greets them with ‘welcome to the wolf den what can we do for you today?’

22. who steals the blankets?

They are both guilty of this. Remus loves the feeling of being curled up in a blanket and will steal the blankets in the middle of the night. In the morning Sirius will find Remus surrounded in blankets. Some nights Remus will wake up freezing his ass off only to find there are zero blankets on him and look over to find Sirius completely laying all around them.

23. who remembers things?

Literally none of them. Do not trust either of them to remember anything.

24. who does the groceries?

Remus will make a grocery list and go with Sirius. They end up checking out with more things that weren’t on the list because Sirius throws them in. ‘we need this, Remus. Need it.”

25. who cooks normally?

Also do not trust them with cooking. The only cooking skills Remus can do is make tea and toast. And sometimes he burns both.

26. who leaves their stuff lying everywhere?

Both of them. Remus will leave books and sweaters on the couch and his tea mugs scattered around the flat like easter eggs. Sirius will leave almost everything from shirts to bathroom towels on the floor.

27. what kind of stuff can be found around their place?

(i think this can go with the one above)28. what do their cupboards or shelves look like?

They have the basic kitchen utensils and pots and pans but they are not touched. Remus only uses the cupboards for his mugs and maybe seasonings if he’s feeling creative. In the living room there is a shelf for a community shared vinyl set, Remus having more classics like the Beach Boys and the Kinks and Sirius’ collection having more of the Doors and Rolling Stone.

29. what does their closet(s) look like?

Remus has a variety of sweaters hanging and stacked in his closet. His closet is actually organized, his shoes and boots neatly arranged down below. His dresser however, is a mess. Shelves wont’t be pushed in all the way because there’s too much or it’s not neatly folded. There’s also a lot of things on the floor.

Sirius’ closet is about the same as Remus’ but some stuff is either sliding off the hangers or already made it to the ground. Most of his shoes are lined up outside by the door in the living room.

30. what do they do when they’re away from each other?

When they’re not together Remus will be hanging out with his other friends or literally hanging around the house, falling asleep on the couch or in his bed while he waits for Sirius to come home.

31. do they have nicknames or pet names for each other?

answered

32. how do they refer to the other in public? how do other people refer to the other? (i.e. “my partner”, “ask your father”, “dad and papa”, “how’s your wife?“, etc)

Remus will casually say “This is Sirius Black, my boyfriend.” While Sirius goes for the dramatics, “this is the love of my life Remus fucking Lupin.”

33. who is more likely to pay for dinner?

Both of them. They each take turns or nose goes because they are indecisive. They don’t argue over not wanting pay they usually take a while to decide because they both want to.

34. how often do they go on dates?

When they can manage. They are both okay with going to the bar for a drink or two or going to a restaurant.

35. typical date night? out or at home?

Since neither of them can really cook they usually go out somewhere. Sirius likes to take Remus out to fancy places to treat him and also to see Remus all dressed up. Even though it’s an enjoyable time Remus likes to just stay at their place and have a drink and talk or do something. Usually cuddling on the sofa or just talking intimately.

36. do they celebrate birthdays, valentine’s day, anniversaries?

You bet they do. Remus will wake up with Sirius on top of him for most of these occasions before the day begins.

37. what would they get each other for gifts?

They know each other so well that Remus will get something that Sirius probably said he would die if he didn’t have it. Sirius will get something he saw a few minutes before giving it to him and immediately thought of Remus.

38. how do they spend christmas and new year’s (or equivalent family gatherings)?

They will invite everyone they know to the flat and have at it. Since they live there they usually get the most drunk and always wanna play a game or a dance off. They both are really bad at that.

39. who cusses more?

You would think Sirius but Remus will curse at everything. When he’s talking to himself, if he drops something, if he forgets something, if Sirius is sucking him off. Everything. He doesn’t stop.

40. what would they do if the other one was hurt?

Anything.

41. what are little gestures they do for each other?

Sirius will take interest in anything Remus says and if he doesn’t understand something he learns about it and is over the moon talking about it the next day. Remus will make Sirius breakfast if he can or go out and get something before he wakes up.

42. do they know how the other takes their coffee/tea?

Of course they do. Sirius will make Remus’ coffee which is just two sugars and one drop of milk. His tea is always Early Grey with one sugar. Remus knows Sirius because his is easy. No coffee. Only tea. Don’t dilute the flavors because that’s insanity.

43. do they feel they see each other enough, or do they have activities that take too much of their time?

They don’t see each other as much as they used to in school. Work and the Order and other things have taken over part of their lives. If they weren’t living together Remus doesn’t know when he would see Sirius.

44. do they friend/follow each other on facebook/tumblr/livejournal/skype/etc?

(modern au: yes, they would. Remus wouldn’t use it a lot but when he would he would either rave about something he just learned or post about his day and Sirius.

45. (added) morning routine?

Remus hates waking up. If he wakes up before Sirius he will go make tea and bring it to bed for them. If he’s leaving for work he’ll press small morning kisses to Sirius, who pretends to be asleep through it all, before taking a shower and having breakfast.

46. how do they make up after a fight?

They just hold each other and whisper to each other they are sorry and how much they love each other.

#Anonymous #answered

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thekidultlife · 8 years ago

Text

Adagio Cantabile | Woozi College AU

Words: 9227

Genre: Porn with Plot or Plot with Porn?? (generally fluff with a mix of angst and smut); Enemies to lovers

(Because of Ep 7 of Going Seventeen, Change Up, now Pinwheel, I’m falling for Woozi more and more. He’s just too handsome. Anyway, this contains pretty obscure musical terms and I may or may not be correct in using them because I just got them from the net wiki and my own experience and before I started doing SVT fics, I used to write about music because I really, really love classical music and I often go to orchestra concerts annually. Well I hope you like this~)

“In case you’re becoming deaf or blind, Y/N,”

You rolled your eyes as your strutted down the lobby of the College of Music in Seoul National University, fury seething from your rigid figure.

“Let me tell you that, that D sharp is not a fucking fortissimo.”

Hate. Hate was the only thing you would describe the student conductor for the Annual Gala Night. You hated him with every fiber of your being as you gripped on to the score of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor on your hands.

“’In case you’re becoming deaf or blind, Y/N’… well, fuck you!” you repeated his words with a mocking tone, walking towards the nearby dorms and seeking out the sanctuary which was your room.

“Where the fuck are you looking?! Look. At. Me. Y/N!”

You could still hear his voice buzzing in your ears which was making you more livid than ever before. He shouldn’t have embarrassed me in front of the whole orchestra! Fuck this! Fuck him!

Brashly inserting your keys into the doorknob, you slammed the door open and shut it at the same manner; leaving no care for those who are unfortunate enough to hear you angrily knocking things over. You tossed the loose scores on top of the black baby grand piano in the middle of your tiny living room (which was already filled with the large mass of the instrument) and plopped on your poor excuse of a sofa without much grace.

You were quiet for a second. Then, you were not.

“FUCK YOU, LEE JIHOON!”

Lee Jihoon might or might not have heard someone screaming how he was such an asshole but, not like he did care. He was so used to being hated by every musician in Seoul National University that he had grown immune, or, he might not have given any shit in the first place. What was important was the Annual Gala Night which will be held three months in the future and time was running out. He, the conductor, the orchestra members and the concert pianist were already chosen a year before based on school performance and scores were given six months prior—this gave no one the opportunity to excuse himself with lack of time and practice.

Because of this, Jihoon expected a well-seasoned performer not a shitty second-rate, a poor excuse of a pianist. Not that his description had any bias; it just so happens that the concert pianist was his greatest rival in the whole universe. Jihoon shared classes with you because he had piano as a minor degree and you were there just to show how you were so much better than him in the piano.

Yeah. He knew he was being an asshole. But it doesn’t matter.

Jihoon made for the comfortable bed at the far side of his bedroom, near the window. He hadn’t had any good night’s sleep since he began studying the score for Piano Concerto No. 3 and he felt especially entitled for an afternoon nap after that shit of a first rehearsal.

But no. His brain was wide awake. Had he taken too much coffee this morning?

“Fuck this,” Jihoon muttered; staring at the expanse of his cream colored ceiling and praying to the higher beings to let him sleep for once when he needed it the most.

As if on cue, Jihoon could hear the faint musings of a piano floating with the late afternoon sunlight and he never felt a song so appropriate to the ambiance of his room that he thought for a second that someone might be playing for him.

“What’s the title of this song again?”

It was an involuntary whisper; he was not even aware that he had said something yet he knew it was good—really, really good that it had calmed his nerves at once as if it was morphine. He felt the melody wrap around his senses, dulling them and then trapping him into a dream-like trance. Jihoon didn’t care though. If it was the only thing that could make him sleep, then so be it.

1 year ago

It was literally one of the best nights of your life—the party was lit, your date whom your friend Soonyoung suggested was no less than perfect—you were enjoying the night away after getting the role of concert pianist in next year’s Annual Gala Night. Nothing could make you happier that day.

“Congrats, Y/N! We knew you’d get it!” a fellow piano major, Junhui gave his salutations to you as he swayed with flashing lights and the booming music, the ever-changing lights gave his blond hair various hues every ten seconds. “You’re the best in our year after all!”

“Yeah sure. If you’re tone deaf, that is.”

A familiar stingy voice emerged from the crowd and you just groaned, knowing who it was. Yet you would not let anything destroy your absolutely perfect night, especially not him.

“Bitter, aren’t we Lee Jihoon?” you replied with equal amounts of sass and you simply looked at his frowning figure standing by your mutual friend Soonyoung, who you knew was a dance major.

“In case you missed it, I’m actually selected as the conductor. So, I’m not exactly bitter, Y/N,” he remarked as he shot an eyebrow at your glaring eyes. “Better be prepared next year. I’m quite a demanding conductor.”

He stalked away after imparting his final words as if on cue and you just pursed your lips together, humoring his natural hate towards you. You haven’t actually done anything wrong towards him, yet he just despised you and you were logical enough to return it.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. He’s kinda on the edge lately…probably not having enough girls to fuck,” Soonyoung, who was left behind, offered consolation and you smiled at his concern.

“I still wonder why you and Jun are friends with that jerk,” you said with a scoff, swirling the red cup of alcohol on your hands.

“Nah. What’s actually weird is that he dislikes you so much. He’s just grumpy on the normal,” Jun exclaimed, and then running off after spotting another dance major, Minghao entering the stage.

Right on cue, your date for tonight Jinwo appeared right behind you and Soonyoung knew he had to bail out. So he gave you a congratulations and went to where vocal majors Seungkwan and Seokmin were.

It was truly a beautiful night. Everyone was having fun including you. Jinwo proved to be quite an awesome companion—laughing at silly things, trading inside stories about how you beat Lee Jihoon’s ass during that one recital, and doing goofy things one after another. You two just clicked together. You decided on that night that you were going to say yes when he asked you on a date another time. You were happy, ecstatic, with a heart full of laughter and lightheartedness.

Well, that is, until Lee Jihoon ruined your night as easy as breathing.

“Seriously, Y/N? Him?” he asked with a disgusted look as he refilled his cup with cocktail by the buffet table. “Who knew you’d stoop so low just to get a guy?”

“Excuse me, Lee Jihoon. What do you even know about Jinwo?” you defended with arms on your waist and a brow shot high on your forehead. Jinwo was beside you, glaring at the brown haired man who had a mocking smirk on his face.

Jihoon simply eyed at your date and then scoffed as if he knew something that you don’t.

“You don’t know, Y/N? He’s like dating one girl from every department in our college,” Jihoon grinned after continuing; amused at how you were wide eyed and speechless.

Yet Jinwo simply looked enraged that time as his face flushed red and gave you the cup of vodka he was holding. Your date took a step closer to Jihoon who didn’t even flinch when the taller guy seized his collar.

“Say that one more time, you fucking bastard!” Jinwo dared and you knew Jihoon was going to do it just to provoke him. So you moved to stop Jinwo’s arm from hitting Jihoon’s face even though you wouldn’t mind it.

“Jinwo, stop!”

You were shouting at him yet his fist was faster than you could have imagined. Jihoon got squared in the jaw and the fight erupted soon after. Jihoon was hitting Jinwo with an intensity you never imagined he could and the taller man was surprised at how the other was so intent to kill him.

Afraid that it would transform into a bigger fight, you called for the host, Choi Seungcheol who quickly separated the two. Jinwo was still thrashing around, held on the arms by Kim Mingyu as he was brought outside of the venue until you can’t see him from the crowd of onlookers. Jihoon, with a cut lip simply stood beside Seungcheol with an arrogant composure as he fixed the collar of his sweater.

You were still in the middle of shock when Jihoon grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the party. He must have said something to you yet you weren’t really listening to anything anymore. At your grasps, you had everything you wanted in your life then it all came crashing down because of one single guy who was now guiding you down the street towards your dormitories. You had realized this and halted in a screech.

“What the fuck is your problem with me, Jihoon?” you weren’t shouting, more like you were getting tired of his unexplainable shit that it all came into one exhausted question.

“I don’t like you. You know that,” he replied nonchalantly, without turning to look at you.

“And so?”

“So, what?”

“Did you know that you just ruined my entire night? I was having a blast! I got a main role in the Gala, my date was the best I had for two years, and I had friends congratulating me! But what did you do? You fucking picked a fight with Jinwo! Can’t you just leave me alone?”

He was silent under the dark shadows of the elm trees on the sidewalk yet you weren’t really waiting for an answer. You walked pass him; having enough drama for one night and strode straight ahead to your dorm.

You knew he was gazing at your retreating back yet he stood there motionless in his spot until you turned at the curb.

“Where the hell is that asshole?” you hissed to yourself after tuning the piano with the whole orchestra.

Apparently, Jihoon was late for practice and this was the first time it happened. Normally, he was right on schedule and he would scold anyone who would dare appear late. You never tried to, though it was somewhat tempting to piss him off yet for the sake of everyone, it was better not to provoke the conductor. You were broken from your reverie when you heard the auditorium doors swung open and out came marching a panicky Jihoon who had his scores messily gathered in a folder and his baton sticking out from his pocket.

“Sorry I’m late. I assumed you would have finished tuning so let’s begin with the 35th measure of the second movement,” he blurted out rapidly as he climbed the stairs and to his podium right beside you. He assumed position without even catching a breath, raising both his arms with a baton on his right hand as he said, “Alright. Let’s begin.”

“Stop. Stop,” the brunet conductor slammed his baton on the music stand and sharply turned to you, who looked both confused and wounded. “You are supposed to play in the background! Can’t you tell that you’re being too loud?!”

You grit your teeth at him as you shot daggers with your eyes. You tried to remind yourself not to go along with his outbursts yet you just couldn’t let it go without defending yourself.

“How would I know what you want when you keep on scolding me like that? Can’t you just tell me normally that you want me to play pianissimo in this part? That’s the problem with you! You keep things to yourself so how are we supposed to play like you want us to?!” you retaliated as you sat up from the piano bench and marched towards him.

“You should know what to do by now! How many times have we practiced this piece since last week?” Jihoon narrowed his eyes at you and then continued. “Or maybe you don’t want to follow what I say because you’re that much of a show off? Why don’t you just fucking play solo? You don’t need the orchestra!”

His words bit you so cruelly that you were simply rendered speechless and warm tears pooled from your eyes and fell down to your flushed cheeks. You held on to your fists as you bit your lip; trying to contain the emotions which were welling up from inside you.

“I hate you so much.”

You cursed under your breath and then escaped from the stuffy auditorium so that your jerk of a conductor would no longer witness how his words scarred your self-esteem.

Jihoon dragged his body from the front door towards his bedroom and upon reaching the comfy mattress, he allowed himself to fall into its soft comfort face front. Today was the worst among all the shitty practices he had in his life and it was not helping his headache nor his insomnia.

What he needed right now was that song.

If he could hear it one more time, he vowed to himself to give his neighbor some gratitude for helping him calm down. It was the reason though why he woke up so late in the morning and thus, almost missing orchestra practice yet he didn’t care. Nothing could make him sleep so soundly, however, without it, Jihoon was cursed to replay the events that happened just half an hour ago in his head.

The image of you crying was burnt into the back of his mind. The tears running down your cheeks and the words you told him had widened his eyes and tug on his heart and when you made a run for it, Jihoon felt too exhausted to continue the rehearsal and dismissed everyone.

You should apologize to her. It was his conscience calling him yet his pride was pulling him not to.

A man shouldn’t make a lady cry. Jihoon bit his lip and gave a defeated groan against the comforter. So what if some of his pride was crushed? He did accuse her of things she wasn’t and she was hurt by his words.

He must have had that line of thinking when the song began playing again from the other room and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep; lulled by the gentleness of the melody.

3 months ago

He shouldn’t have come here.

“Jihoon! Your turn!”

He could hear Soonyoung forcing him to swallow the shot of soju on his hands and he was too tipsy to even whine a refusal.

He shouldn’t have come here.

“Wow! How many shots have you taken, Y/N?”

“I dunno. Close to ten, maybe?”

Jihoon could hear the reason why he was in that drinking party in the first place and he couldn’t even formulate an insult at his condition.

Fuck this. Fuck my life. Fuck Y/N.

Hm. That wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

No. Bad Jihoon.

“Y/N! Could you take care of Jihoon for me?

It may be Soonyoung talking or something. He saw you looking hesitant at the request.

“Are you insane? He hates me, I hate him!”

Yeah kinda. But he was just too drunk to say that he can take himself home even without your help. Jihoon simply slid down the floor; looking at your general direction and mesmerized by your actions.

“I know you won’t kill him, so just take him home please! I’ll treat you with anything you want after!”

“I’ll make sure you treat me with some expensive shit.”

Jihoon wasn’t really paying attention anymore to the conversation and the next thing he knew, you were holding him by his arm and dragging him down the street to the dorms. You were cursing and complaining about everything as he slumped his head down; mind muddled up with the scent of alcohol and your perfume.

“I can’t believe such a puny guy can be so heavy! Jesus Christ!” you grumbled as you towed him over your shoulders; realizing that the dorms were just too far away. “Dammit Jihoon! Walk, for fuck’s sake!”

“Sorry…” he muttered and then tried to walk, in which he barely succeeded, nearly toppling both of you to the ground. “Am…shorry…Y/N…sho sorry…”

Somewhat surprised that he was apologizing to you, you haven’t uttered a single word; afraid that anything you would say would sober up the demon inside him. Upon arriving to his front door, you struggled to fish for the keys Soonyoung gave you before he disappeared with a random girl on his arms.

“Jihoon, where’s your bedroom?” you asked the brunet hanging by your side as you flicked on the lights of his dorm.

“O’er there…” he replied, pointing weakly at the door beside the grand piano and so, you continued to drag him until you gently laid him to his bed.

“Shit. I feel like my arm’s gonna fall off!” you exclaimed as you sat beside him and stretched your upper body. You had completely forgotten about Jihoon for a moment and had a small heart attack when he suddenly tugged your shirt to get your attention; half-lidded eyes and red cheeks met yours.

“Sorry…sho shorry…didn’t…mean to,” Jihoon repeated again and again as he feebly sat up; seizing one of your hands and gently massaging it. “Good…?”

You stalled for a few seconds until you remembered how to breathe and then stuttered to answer him. “What…what did you say?”

Jihoon frowned slightly and then started to press on your muscles harder. To say that you were absolutely confused about his sudden behavior was an understatement—you were completely baffled and weirded out. Lee Jihoon wasn’t supposed to be soft. He was the devil incarnate; a little gremlin—you often described him. He doesn’t know how to apologize to you, much less show a little gratitude or affection. He’s as bitter as his favorite black coffee and as cold as his permanent narrow gaze.

Yet here he was, massaging your tired hand as a way to recompense.

“Good…Y/N? Am…I…goooood…now?” he asked for reaffirmation and you nodded at him slightly; still somewhat stunned and you thought you couldn’t become any more astounded than you are currently. Yet when he gave you a small warm smile; his dimples showing and his eyes forming an eye smile, you thought that all of that night was just a dream.

“You’re…um…doing great. Tha-thank…you,” you mumbled and then stumbled on your words when Jihoon gave you a bright grin; cuddling on your shoulder right after.

“I’m happy…so…so happy,” he whispered solemnly. He had ceased on massaging your hand, instead, he simply held on to you tightly as if you might run away. You would have under normal circumstances, yet everything that night was not normal. Jihoon smiled…the world might be ending tomorrow.

“Have…to practishhhh…Y/N….shorry…tessst tomorrow,” he suddenly changed avenues and shifted on the bed yet he was too weak to do abrupt actions, so he simply remained on his position but continued mumbling anyway.

“You can’t. You’re shit drunk, Jihoon,” you scolded, however you didn’t attempt to move him in any way; afraid that the brunet might cling to you more.

“Have to…be…besssht…have to top…” he replied with a meeker voice than before. “Or they…they…won’t…I…can’t…shtuddy…no more,”

“That’s…um…I—”

“Mother…Father…scoldssss me…doesn’t like…me not…best.”

“You’re already great. Better than me actually.” Good thing he’s drunk.

“No, no. Y/N…Y/N’s good…really, really…good. ”

“This guy, really…you shouldn’t go to drinking parties when you get drunk so easily.”

You sighed and faced him; placing the hand which he was not grasping, on his head as you began to gently pat him. He seemed to like your gesture and nuzzled closer to your neck as if he was a child. Or your boyfriend. Ok. Y/N. Just because he turned soft on you for ten minutes, you’re now having weird thoughts. He might be Romeo when drunk but still Jihoon the gremlin when sobered up.

“If he’s just a bit nicer, it wouldn’t be weird if I did have a crush on him.”

Jihoon couldn’t exactly recall what he had seen or heard that night. All he could remember was a melody playing on the piano; his piano. His thoughts were too scattered to realize that nobody should be playing on the piano because he lived alone and never gave anyone a duplicate of his keys, yet it didn’t matter. The song was nice—it suddenly became his favorite tune—lulling him to a paradise where his parents appreciated his work, where he wasn’t pressured to succeed and where he had a nicer relationship with you.

When a few streams of sunlight flashed upon Jihoon’s face the next morning, he felt like a train had hit his head last night and his mind was like a collection of jumbled ideas and images. He was staring at the ceiling yet he couldn’t recognize that it was indeed the ceiling he was looking at. Then the next thing he knew, he was on the sink; emptying his stomach.

“I shouldn’t have gone to that fucking party.”

“What’s this?”

Raising a brow, you took the sticky note off your door and read it more closely.

“’Liked that piece you played on the piano. Slept well ‘coz of it. Thanks.’ Well, what a way to start a day!” you exclaimed and inserted the note on your piano scores with a grin on your face. At least you were in a better mood to ignore your conductor’s rants.

Since your first class was around one in the afternoon, you decided to take a good bite at the nearest sandwich shop. You were in a good mood after all.

Ordering something like a chicken panini or whatever, you happily munched on a booth nearest to the window; your sheet music sprawled on the table for you to review the certain parts that needed your attention.

“Wait, what? A pianissimo after a series of octave jumps?” you whined as you took a bite on your lunch, chewing as you imagined how the piece would go. “C’mon! I have Rachmaninoff on my plate!”

“Why? Can’t you have Liszt and Rachmaninoff at the same time?”

You choked on your chicken panini when you heard the voice you wanted to hear the least; snapping your head in front of you and meeting his tired gaze. You automatically reached for your bottle of soda and drank the contents of your mouth down your throat.

Jihoon sat on the chair in front of you without giving any sort of preamble and just watched you panicking because of his unexpected presence. His hands eventually reached for your music sheets and helped you arrange them back to your folder.

You got more and more weirded out as you saw him help you clear away the table and by the time you were done, you sat back on your seat slowly; watching him with a confused expression.

“So…um…what brings you here?” you asked with hesitance; still wondering why he wanted to talk to you in the first place. “Is this for the rehearsal? The assignment in music theory? Or…um…chicken panini?”

The brunet conductor shook his head at all three of your questions and then suddenly retracted as if he had said something wrong. “No wait. It’s…yeah, it’s about the rehearsal. The other day’s rehearsal…”

“The other day…” you repeated his words and scrunched up your brows in confusion until you finally remembered why you went home crying in middle of your last rehearsal. “What…what about it?”

Jihoon gazed at you for a few seconds as if trying to scrutinize what you were feeling that moment before closing his eyes to collect himself. After some time, he opened them once more and then began to speak.

“I…well…I’m—I’m s-sorry. I said things I shouldn’t have…and, um…I made you cry, so…” Jihoon clasped and unclasped his hands as he struggled to spit out the words. “It’s against my conscience to make girls…no, um…rather, you cry. I don’t want you to cry…”

You honestly thought you were still asleep—there was no way such a day would be so good to you. You didn’t even want to breathe or blink, or Jihoon might disappear in front of you; so you sat as still as you could.

Yet Jihoon was not planning to stay a bit longer. As soon as he blurted out what he wanted to say, the brunet dashed out of the sandwich shop faster than you can react and you were left there standing and staring at his retreating back.

“What on earth am I supposed to feel?”

1 month ago; Leeds, United Kingdom

Leeds International Pianoforte Competition.

Your hands were sweaty as you stepped a foot into the lobby of the competition’s venue with the music score on your hands. It wasn’t your first time entering a contest abroad yet the Leeds was one of the biggest competitions you had in your entire life and you knew you can’t just screw it up because it means a great deal to your future career as a classical musician and—

“Would fucking hurry up, Y/LN? Unlike you, I don’t want to embarrass myself later.”

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you were shoved away by Kim Jaehwa, another competitor from your university which seemed to be more hostile to you than Lee Jihoon simply because you refused to date him back in first year. Not wanting to stress yourself before the competition, you moved pass him yet the other simply clicked his tongue and gave a mocking laugh.

“What? Can’t seem to taunt back?” Kim Jaehwa called out from your back yet you simply rolled your eyes and continued walking. “Hey! I’m still talking to you, Y/LN!”

Proceeding to walk without any care, you ignored the shouts of the idiot behind you. You only stopped when you heard Lee Jihoon’s voice which was definitely weird because you knew he was back in South Korea doing god-knows-what. You turned around immediately, only to be greeted by the image of the smaller Jihoon arm-locking Kim Jaehwa.

“Better go elsewhere, buddy. Or I might break every single bone in your hand right now,” Jihoon muttered to the guy as you simply stood there watching in awe.

Luckily, Kim Jaehwa was smart enough to run away because you knew Jihoon would definitely break his fingers if he would try to retaliate. So, breaking out of your initial shock, you placed your arms over your chest and began questioning the other person in the lobby.

“Mind if I ask why you’re here?” You arched a brow and he gave a careless shrug.

“Why? Can’t I?” Jihoon smirked and you sighed in exhaustion. “My competition in Germany is already over, so might as well watch you embarrass yourself.”

“Thank you for your unwanted concern, Mr. Lee. I better go and embarrass myself now. Goodbye.”

You turned around and walked towards the backstage slowly with pursed lips, leaving Jihoon alone to his own devices.

“I’ll be waiting for your mistakes later. Be careful with those runs and match with the feelings of the piece!”

He still warned you though. Fucking perfectionist. Yet, you smiled for the first time that day.

And when the conductor raised his baton parallel to his chest, in one breath, you began.

Piano Concerto No. 3 in C major, Op. 26 by Sergei Prokofiev

It begins with a slow andante clarinet solo; soft and mysterious and then gradually followed by the orchestra in the same slow tempo yet suddenly turns into a fast-paced movement with the piano entering immediately—also in fiery tune. With the whole orchestra clashing into one another in a threatening unrest, the piano almost in a battle with the orchestra. Reverberating low chords, tolling melancholic bell-like tunes, rapid movement mimicking a chase, strings foreshadowing a struggle about to unfold—it was as if the whole symphony was telling a story.

While Jihoon has higher standards than the highest mountain in the world, yet with you playing, you managed to go even beyond that. He can feel his whole body quivering in excitement as the notes kept on jarring with each other; forming an overall sound which made his eyes widen in exhilaration and anticipation for more.

It was a difficult piece. Just by hearing it, Jihoon knew that it was not a piece you can easily defeat in just a few days. The fingering techniques needed for those rapid piano movements interspersed with one another, for short, your hands were on top of one another while moving up and down the keyboard.

It was a performance which took him into a different realm…this is how Y/N would perform…this almost otherworldly performance…it resonated inside him.

Fuck.

That day, Lee Jihoon became afraid of his feelings.

3 months later; Seoul National University Auditorium

“Ahhhh. I feel so nervous!”

You could hear Kim Mingyu, who was contrabass one whining at the farthest end of the backstage and you simply sighed; trying to expel all the tension building up in your body. It was the Gala Night and everything which you and the whole orchestra had rehearsed would be tested and heard by everyone tonight. It was a night that would decide what comes after university.

“Alright, listen everyone!” The conductor, Lee Jihoon shouted as he stood above a wooden crate so he could be seen by everyone. “I won’t say don’t be nervous because you never listen anyway. However, this is it. This is our judgement day, our day of reckoning. Perform like it’s your last concerto and remember to be careful. I know we are all here for a reason. Let’s show those people why.”

You nodded yet continued exhaling breaths to control the shaking on your arms. God, you hated that feeling. Everyone dispersed with a calmer atmosphere and went back to reviewing the scores however, your eyes were still trained to Jihoon’s that he had immediately noticed your gaze. He got off the wooden crate and walked towards you with a substantive expression which scared you.

Both of you never really had a decent conversation after Jihoon had apologized that day in the sandwich shop. Rather, he had grown somewhat on guard every single time you were around and he would limit his interaction with you as business-like as possible. You wondered if you had done something wrong because why is Lee Jihoon, who insulted you in every opportunity he gets, suddenly became so silent? It felt both unnerving and empty at the same time. You did miss fighting with him.

When the brunet finally came up to you, you weren’t really prepared to say anything. Instead, you just stared at him as if waiting for him to begin and so he did.

“So…um, how should I say this?” Jihoon stuttered as he scratched the back of his neck as the suit suddenly made him feel stuffy. “Even though I told you many times that you’re not that good of a pianist, I know that um…you…y-you—”

“Oh stop it Lee Jihoon,” you broke off his words with a groan and sighed. “I know it’s hard for you to compliment me, so just say what you want in the language you’re most comfortable with, because you being this weird is really, really frightening.”

Jihoon blinked at you for a few times until his apprehensive expression turned into his rare dimpled smile that made his eyes look like tiny upside down crescents and showed his small but sharp canines

“Alright. I’m looking forward in watching you embarrass yourself up there. Try not to be too excited,” he mocked you yet his tone seemed to be teasing rather than offensive.

“If I embarrass myself, you go down with me. Remember that, Mr. Conductor.”

“Then, remember to look at me and go with the feelings of the piece.”

“Since when did I find it difficult to look at you?”

“What? What did you say?”

“Nothing. C’mon, it’s our cue.”

As you made yourself comfortable in front of the grand piano with your stunningly exquisite golden gown, you glanced down on the ivory keys. Tonight, they are both your ally and your enemy as you battle with fate, with chance, with your body and your mind.

Under the glaring overhead lights, the whole orchestra stood before the expecting audience. Lee Jihoon had picked his baton with controlled composure and placed a glance at you. Nodding at him, you took a deep breath and a small prayer before he waved at the orchestra to begin.

Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30—Sergei Rachmaninoff

The first movement begins with allegro ma non tanto revolving around a beautiful, almost song-like melody; diatonic in nature. It then fully dives into a B-flat major key as the first theme—trotting gradually to a loud development section which opens with toccata like quavers in the piano and reaches a loud chordal section. It was emotion brewing; hidden under layers of notes and cadenzas as if it was an ode to life’s complexities. The climaxes were ferocious especially in the cadenza and morphs into a quiet wind and brass solo section. The first movement ends with the piano restating the first theme alongside the orchestra, and concluded with a rippling coda; a nostalgic retrace of the second theme.

As the second movement had set off filled with its heavy romantic thoughts, you recalled that this piece was one of the hardest to play in the whole world and it wasn’t a concealed fact that you had cursed, complained, cried and suffered during the whole three months of practice. The violins rolled in with the movement’s second theme as the orchestra accompanies the soliloquy of the piano. You glanced at Jihoon in front of you, guiding the orchestra to the masterpiece of the night. He must have sensed you watching him as you pressed your fingers on the chords and he turned to you with a small smile.

When the second movement had ended and the piano had continued to the final movement with a cadenza-esque passage nonstop, the mood of the auditorium was immediately charged with your quick and vigorous attacks on the piano; the brass section adding flair to every note. However, the final movement diverges from a regular sonata-allegro form and Jihoon had precisely informed you during rehearsals to be careful with the unconventional development which was a long-winding digression using the major key of the movement’s first theme. It was much easier for you after that, with the recapitulation of the original themes building to a toccata climax much like the first movement. As the conclusion draws near, the sweat in your brow was falling down your cheeks as you pressed four-note rhythms in a victorious and passionate melody in D major as the orchestra accompanies you through the end. Your hands and arms were quivering as you felt the vibrations of the music well up your emotions and with a final notes on the piano, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto in D minor completed with tumultuous cheers and applause.

Two years of failed auditions, one year of anticipation, three months of general rehearsals and tonight it had all ended.

You, for a moment, had muted out your surroundings yet when Jihoon finally tapped your shoulder to stand up, you immediately averted your gaze towards his eyes. He gave you a wide grin which you were secretly fond of as he clapped with the audience.

“Wasn’t that perfect really. You made a mistake in the first movement yet I’ll excuse you for tonight. You did great,” Jihoon had whispered to your ear as he guided you to the backstage to get a glass of water and the standard bouquet of roses.

“You really love to pick on me, don’t you?” you replied with a huff after downing cold water down your throat.

“No, I just don’t like you. Better prepare for an encore, by the way.”

“Wait, what?”

“You forgot? It’s tradition.”

When you got back on stage as the audience clapped once more, you were cursing Lee Jihoon silently for not informing you that concert pianists needed to do encores during Gala Nights. Feeling rather unprepared yet having no choice, you sat in front of the piano and decided to play something you knew by heart.

As you began with a sweet yet calming melody reminiscent of a quiet afternoon ambience, the whole crowd suddenly became quiet and the buzz from the excitement earlier had gradually died down. You were playing the main tune on your right hand and simple arpeggios on your left with a serene smile on your lips. Despite being instrumental, the piece you were playing was closer to a song—an adagio cantabile.

Jihoon who was standing just at the mouth of the backstage, felt his breath stop momentarily as his ears heard the notes you were producing on the piano. He felt confused, moved, astonishment and an assortment of emotions which he couldn’t describe any longer.

Fuck.

“It’s her. It’s her all along,” he muttered under his breath.

As your encore had finally ended, you gave a bow to the audience and shook hands with the concert master before walking back to the backstage for your long awaited rest.

Jihoon was still there in the same position and when you finally walked pass him, he had grabbed your arm and whisked you away from the oncoming barrage of orchestra members.

“What the hell is it again, Jihoon?” you asked with a bewildered and slightly annoyed expression. “You’re so difficult to understand!”

“And you’re always barging into my life!” he replied with the same tone as yours.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s you! You’re—”

“Jihoon.”

You would almost roll your eyes at the person interrupting your discussion when you felt Jihoon visibly freeze on his spot. When you turned to place a glance at the newcomer, you immediately understood why.

“Father. I—”

“You disappoint me, Jihoon,”

The first words which came out of his fathers’s lips stung to the deepest recesses of his being like poisoned thorns. And you simply stood beside him like an idiot, watching the events unfold.

“I’m sorry. I did my best so…” Jihoon heard his voice going smaller and smaller and his words choking him on the throat.

“Best? Tell me again that you did your best when a company or conservatoire approaches you after the concert. No one did, am I right?”

“Father…um…”

“I shouldn’t have let you study music when you’re just going to slack off.”

Unable to just observe the scene in front of you, you walked in front of Jihoon’s father with courage you never thought you had.

“Excuse me, sir. I may be intruding but I just want to point out that Jihoon never slacked off. He gives everyone hell but he gives himself something worse than hell. So for the sake of us who suffered under him, please retract your words.”

Jihoon’s father simply looked at you with the same cold gaze Jihoon had yet you grew immune to that certain hard stare that you were not by the least intimidated.

“And who are you?” the father asked, his tone harsh.

“Just some pianist. But that’s not the point. Please retract your words, sir because Jihoon was never a disappointment. He has won tons of awards and he will be working in Europe after we graduate!” you defended him with an intense glare before taking a breath and began talking once more. “He’s the most hardworking person I know that he even wants to practice even if he was dead drunk.”

Jihoon simply glanced at you with wide eyes and his mouth ajar, wondering how the hell you knew so much about him. But before he could ask you, his father had beat him to it.

“Let me ask you again. Who are you?”

You grit your teeth because you knew what he was asking for. He wanted to know who you are in Jihoon’s life yet that was a question you don’t know the answer to. He was neither your friend nor your worst enemy any longer. He was not your conductor because the Gala Night had just concluded. Jihoon was just a schoolmate and a friend of a friend yet you were defending him in front of his father.

That is if you continue to deny who Jihoon really is to you.

“I’m…I’m…I, um…wait—no, Jihoon is…Jihoon is someone I care about a lot. So Mr. Lee, please retract your words because it invalidates all of the efforts he did and struggles he had while studying music.”

You answered resolutely as you pursed your lips; waiting for an answer.

“I still think Jihoon has disappointed me tonight,” his father replied as he glanced at Jihoon who was staring at the concrete floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, and then looked back at you. “But, I will acknowledge that he had been working hard. Just like you said, Ms. Pianist.”

Jihoon’s father turned around and began walking towards the exit but before he disappeared in to the door, he had called out to Jihoon who twitched at the sound of his name.

“You should pick better friends, Jihoon.”

As the older man had gone off the backstage, you heaved a long sigh and placed your hands on your hips.

“We’re not even friends, for Christ’s sake!” you exclaimed however, instead of replying Jihoon simply seized your arm once again as he dragged you out of the auditorium and towards the compound of dormitories just far ahead.

“You need some explaining to do Y/N,” he told you as he pinned you on the door to his room; eyes boring through your soul as he stared at you intently.

“What? What are you talking about?” you replied as your brows knitted in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Tell me how you knew about my parents,” he demanded and you simply arched a brow at him, silently surprised.

“I…well, you told me…when you got drunk during Soonyoung’s birthday party and I had to drag your ass back to your dorm room,” you replied slowly as Jihoon simply gave you a puzzled look. “You…you don’t remember, do you?”

Jihoon stared at you blankly for a while as he tried to processed what you said and compare it to what little memory he had that night. Moments later, you didn’t need to be told that Jihoon had finally realized that you were telling him the truth.

“Fuck. This is so embarrassing!” He grimaced but you simply shrugged.

“Well, what’s done is done. So can you let me go now?” you asked yet he snapped back at you again and you just had to give an unamused frown.

“I’m not done yet.”

“What is it now, Jihoon?” You groaned as you sighed; rolling your eyes in irritation.

“I should be the one irritated here. Have you had any idea how much you messed up my life?” he asked you and you stared at him incredulously.

“Wow, bro. So it’s my fault that your life is shit? Excuse me, Jihoon, you may not notice but you’re the one who keeps pissing on my life!” you replied, your blood beginning to simmer.

“Good that you noticed how I’m trying to get rid of you from my life but you keep on coming back that I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“Alright, Lee Jihoon. It’s your time to start explaining.” You pressed a finger on his chest as you shot daggers at him with your glare. “Why the fuck are your trying to get rid of me when I have no fucking idea what I did wrong? Tell me! Did I say something offensive to you? Did I physically hurt you? Did I hurt your chances of dating other girls—”

“YES—!”

“For the love of God, Jihoon—what the fuck did I do? Shit. Did I make you seem uncool during class or some—”

“Would you just fucking shut up—”

You were shouting at each other for a moment, then the next thing you knew was the feeling of his soft lips pressed roughly on yours; his hands cupping your cheek as your eyes dilated in shock. Jihoon moved and slightly angled himself to gently nibble on your lower lip as your breath hitched at the sudden action. He must have realized your surprise when he pulled away and gave you a tentative look before nuzzling his head on your neck.

“I’m never going to think of someone else as much as I think of you. It’s your fault. No one’s gonna be better than you, nicer than you, funnier than you or prettier than you. No matter what I do to make you leave my mind…insulting you, ruining your day, teasing the hell out of you, but it’s all just making me feel like shit,” he mumbled on your shoulder as you closed your eyes to digest everything he had said.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I swear this guy…!

“Lee Jihoon?” you called out his name softly with restraint and he hummed in indication that you had his attention. “Someday, I fucking swear I’ll hit your head on a concrete wall. But for now I just want you to kiss me.”

As soon as he heard your words, Jihoon immediately left your shoulder and gave you a look of surprise. However, you didn’t have time for that and simply yanked the collar of his suit and pulled him towards you for a kiss.

It didn’t even took much for Jihoon to reciprocate as he again nibbled and licked your lips, earning a gasp from you which he took as an opportunity to insert his tongue in your mouth. His hands travelled to your hips as yours went around his shoulders; fiddling with his brown hair.

Playing with your tongue, he pressed his hips against yours and definitely felt his half-hard member grinding against your thigh. You left out a soft mewl as Jihoon pulled away from your lips and went in for your jaw and down to your neck; placing butterfly kisses here and there. He ghosted his lips on your pulse point before leaving marks that you wouldn’t care if it would stay until tomorrow.

One of his hands left your hips and opened the door behind you, letting both of you inside his room. Jihoon kicked the door shut while giving your collarbone a variety of nips and bites up until the upper part of your chest as you held on to his head, moaning every time he sucked harshly on your skin.

“J-Jihoon…ahh…the afterparty…Soonyoung might—”

“I don’t care. I wanted you for so long and no one’s gonna stop me.”

He then pulled you into his bedroom where his hands found your cheeks once more and gave you a long-drawn kiss as you hummed happily against his lips. Jihoon snaked his way to the zipper of your dress and pulled it down to get your bulky clothes off of you and pushed you down on the bed. As you hit the soft mattress with only on your underwear, you could immediately get a whiff of Jihoon’s scent on the sheets as the real Jihoon standing in front of the bed, discarded his coat and shirt and hovered over your sprawled figure.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jihoon whispered as he bent over your neck and peppered small kisses which eventually turned to licks and harsh bites.

“Jihoon…”

His name escaped your lips as soon as he began to touch your bare breasts; licking your nipples which hardened against the cold temperature of the room. He pinched and sucked as you cried out his name; your hands on the back of his head, messing his soft but messy brown hair. One of his hands then moved to your hips and then to your inner thighs, stroking the sensitive skin. You felt the wetness between your legs drench your underwear as Jihoon caressed your body more.

Without giving much warning, he pinched your clothed clit and your breath hitched in surprise, however, he continued to play with it, making you grasp on the sheets to control yourself. Impatiently, Jihoon pulled your underwear off and knelt down between your legs as he began to kiss, then suck on the skin of your inner thighs. You wanted to close your legs together instinctively however, he was holding you at the back of your knees that you couldn’t do anything but arch your back and exhausted your throat with breathy moans and gasps as Jihoon latched on your clit; ruthlessly sucking.

“Fuck! Jihoon…god! Your tongue feels so good…”

Screaming, you held on to his head as he ate you out; pushing a finger in and out of you which made you pull on his hair lightly. Eventually, you reached your own climax as your body quivered and shook at your own release. Jihoon hummed pleasantly as he lapped on your juices while you cried out his name over and over again; proud that he was making you feel good. He then sat up and wiped his cheeks which were glistening with your own juices; licking his hands clean as he gazed at you and only you.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he asked you, smirking as he placed chaste kisses on your cheeks and forehead and then chuckled at how helpless you looked. “But I’m not done with you yet, Y/N. You think you can handle rough?”

“Wha-What the fuck…Jihoon—”

“Of course you can, right? You’re the only one who can handle me.”

Your half-lidded eyes widened at his suggestion as excitement filled your lower half once more.

“Alright. On your knees, baby,” he ordered and you instantly followed; secretly exhilarated on what was about to come.

You shifted on the bed with your ass high on the air as your arms supported your upper half. While you were doing that, Jihoon finally pulled both his pants and boxers down as he pumped his erection at the sight of you. You could see on your peripheral view that he was bigger than you had expected him to be and you were slightly frightened with how much he would stretch you out.

Jihoon approached you from behind and caressed your ass as he slid two digits into your still sensitive pussy. You mewled when Jihoon pulled his fingers out as quickly as he pushed them and instead rubbed his shaft against your lower lips; his cock grinding against your clit. You could hear him chuckling behind you.

“Damn it, Jihoon. Stop teasing and fuck me already!” you cursed; having enough of his playfulness.

However, instead of following you, he merely bent down by your ear and whispered. “I’m sorry. What did you say, Y/N?”

You bit your swollen lips as Jihoon continued to grind himself to you; deciding long before that you needed him so much that it doesn’t matter if you begged.

“Jihoon…fuck. I need you. Please, please fill me up with your cock,” you pleaded; letting out a silent moan as he did not waste any time filling you up, his dick stretching you out.

Waiting for you to adjust to his size, Jihoon placed small kisses on your back, oftentimes, sucking on your skin and giving you kitten licks. However, when you finally told him that it was okay to move, Jihoon pulled and thrusted into sharply; making you scream on the pillows that smelled so just like him. His pace was relentless—fast and rough thrusts into you as he rubbed circles on your clit; grunting every time you tighten up for him.

“You…feel…so good, baby. I wanted…you…for so long,” he breathed in every word as he pushed into you; filling the room with the sound of skin slapping and your sweet cries of pleasure.

When Jihoon shifted and altered his angle, his cock had brushed against your sweet spot that you didn’t care anymore if other people could hear you two fucking. Your voice was long hoarse yet you couldn’t help but scream when he pounded into our G-spot ruthlessly.

You felt your release building up as Jihoon continued to overwhelm you with pleasure until you collapsed on his pillows, crying out his name as your climax washed over you. Jihoon on the other hand, felt himself fall on the edge as you tightened around him; making his thrusts erratic. After pounding into you for a few more times, he finally pulled out and came on your back with his loudest groan.

Being so exhausted, you have never even realized that you had drifted to sleep until you stirred from your slumber. You felt an arm snaking around your waist as another body was nuzzling on your hair and for a moment, you panicked at the foreign sensations, however after remembering what had happened earlier, you simply sighed in relief and turned around to Jihoon who you never thought would be capable of cuddling.

You simply watched him sleeping for several minutes until his peaceful face contorted into an annoyed frown.

“Y/N, stop staring at me and just go to sleep,” Jihoon scolded you with a gruff voice and placed his head back on top of yours; breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“Jihoon I have a question.”

“Make it quick before I fall asleep,” Jihoon mumbled almost unintelligibly and you shrugged, knowing he would really fall asleep.

“Before your dad arrived, what were you about to tell me that time?”

“Huh? Ah…I just realized that you were actually the one who was playing that song after all this time. I really liked it.”

“Song? What…what song?” you finally replied with a rather small voice.

“You know, that one that goes like…”

Jihoon began to hum the tune of the song he was talking about and you realized then and there that he actually has a good singing voice.

“Oh that. I composed it a long time ago and I would play it when I feel really stressed.”

You could feel Jihoon hum an acknowledgement and you knew he was slowly drifting off. So, you went to tell him what you wanted to say before he falls asleep.

“Y/N, just be quiet already.”

“Hey. If I wake up alone here, I swear—”

“I won’t leave you alone, okay? We have a date tomorrow so shut up already and sleep.”

You shot a brow up as a small smile perked up on your lips.

“I want to eat ice cream tomorrow. Remember that,” you remarked and buried your head on his chest.

Jihoon smiled as he thought of ice cream parlors that you might like to go tomorrow before he had finally fell into slumber.

Admin Hyeri

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #woozi #lee jihoon

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kokoroikikoeru · 8 years ago

Link

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Warnings: Profanity, Implied Drinking, Implied Sex

Additional Tags: College AU, College Parties, Fluff, Older Pines Twins, Human Bill Cipher, Nice Bill Cipher, Dancing, Comfort, these two are adorkable boyfriends that are good and considerate to each other, sorry if this sucks i'm not good at writing fluff :|

Maybe it was because of the stuffy, humid heat produced by the horde of inebriated college students or the pulsating, pounding sounds of EDM blaring through speakers, but regardless of whatever it was, one thing was for sure:

Parties were the bane of his existence.

He was okay with hanging out with familiar, old faces or heading somewhere with a very small group of people. Never was he one for meeting a sea of strangers, grinding up against someone else, drinking to the point beyond being shit-faced, and so on.

At least he had Bill, though.

The brunet turned his gaze from the shifting and squirming mass of people who were all dancing and packed in the other part of the room like sardines in a tin to the young man sitting beside him. The two were watching the crowd from the sidelines, idly seated on a nearby couch. The fingers of the blond’s right hand were laced and entwined with Dipper’s left while the ones of the guy’s free hand were restlessly drumming against a fairly shabby, stained armrest to the beat of the music.

Bill wanted to party and dance like the others, that much was obvious.

The young, sleep-deprived adult stared at the remainder of the swishing and sloshing liquid held by the obligatory red solo cup in his hand. He drew his lips into a thin line, contemplating something before letting an almost inaudible sigh as he forced a faint smile.

Times like these were when he’d truly realized how different they and their worlds really were.

“Y’know,” he started, catching Cipher’s attention, “you can go out there too if you want. You don’t need to force yourself to stay with me.”

Cobalt eyes widened, similar to those of a preteen found reading his father’s porn mags. The action was so short-lived that he would’ve missed it had he blinked.

The affable first-year was quick—but not quick enough—to conceal his blunder that screamed, “I’ve been caught!” by quirking his lips and slinging an arm over the shoulders of the boy beside him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”

“You look really bored,” Dipper countered.

“Geez, Pine Tree! I think you need more glasses or something since I clearly can’t see what you’re—”

“You really shouldn’t lie to your seniors, Billy Boy, especially if they’re your psychology study buddy.”

In reaction to the interruption accompanied with a smug, knowing look, the taller male looked away, uncharacteristically flustered as he grumbled something along the lines of “stupid smart guy”.

The shorter young adult let out an amused, good-natured sigh.

A serene though brief quiet passed between the couple as they listened to the thrumming beats of the song that was currently playing and the drunken shouting of their fellow peers. The introverted Pines twin was the one to break it.

“You can go if you want to. I don’t mind.”

“But you would mind joining me, right? Plus I’ll be leaving my poor, little tree all alone!” the blond dramatically cried out that last part. He threw an arm against over his eyes—well, eye—swooning like some damsel in distress as he swung his legs back and forth, kicking the air while flopping back into the cushions of the sofa.

Mason smirked at his antics and singsonged, “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind watching you.”

Bronzed cheeks gave away a faint blush. Another tranquil and momentary silence transpired. This time Bill broke it.

“You sure about this, Pine Tree?”

“Absolutely.”

“Really, really sure?”

“Positively.”

“Really, really, really—”

The brunet stopped the probably never-ending river of what would essentially be the same, pointless question rephrased over and over again by turning to face the man, swiftly grabbing and tugging down on the other’s collar until their faces were a mere breath apart.

“Bill, just shut up and go dance. I want to see if my boyfriend can actually pull off the legendary moves he’s been claiming to be capable of for the past few days.”

Said boyfriend smiled mirthfully, genuinely and with a noticeable hint of guilt, arctic-blue irises softening fondly at the playful challenge.

Dipper wasn’t prepared for such an uncommon expression to cross his love’s visage. Nor was he prepared for a fleeting but warm and comforting peck against the tresses curtaining his constellatory birthmark from the younger.

“I promise I’ll make this up to you, sapling,” the smitten beaut whispered fondly. The guy’s smirk grew wider at the sight of a rosy flush blooming across the pillow-soft cheeks to the originally pale-tipped ears of a certain mystery-loving lad.

“Yeah, yeah,” the second-year mumbled, shooing the other away as he bit the insides of his cheeks and turned his florid mess of a face away from the other’s gaze. “Now go have some fun.”

And with that, the Pines boy watched his eccentric other half walk away, content though somewhat forlorn…

…only for the sapphire-eyed man to come back not even five minutes after his departure, deciding to return just in order to literally carry his unwilling, bibliophilic significant other with him as he dove back into the dense flock of college students.

After weaving and struggling their way through several waves of mainly inebriated people, they eventually reached an oh-so-very marginally less busy area near one of the sides of the room. Throughout their ephemeral but still rather arduous and tedious journey, the (much) smaller male was fruitlessly kicking and releasing shouts and protests that went unheard by both Bill and the surrounding students. To the freshman, it was honestly like carrying an adorably irked, drowsy kitten.

When he finally decided to gently put the thrashing nerd in his arms down, he received a punch to the shoulder and an aggravated sigh.

“You’re such an ass!” Dipper exclaimed. The blond gave him a faux sheepish grin.

“What can I say? I started missing and worrying about my favorite tree!”

The brunet attempted to force down the redness that threatened to creep up his cheeks and threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“What happened to the ‘I promise I’ll make this up to you’!? You’re serio—”

The first-year abruptly cut him off by placing a finger on his sapling’s plush lips. “Shh! Just dance with me.”

His lover sputtered, flustered before a sudden anxiousness and nervousness seeped in after realizing where they currently were.

The sophomore was beginning to panic, starting to feel like everyone was staring at him—even when they actually weren’t—with scornful looks that stabbed through his body, leaving it a porous, gory carcass. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to this, however, due to the numerous groups of girls and guys lusting after his popular boyfriend. Thankfully, though the other was deranged and unpredictable, he was always the first to notice and the first to be there to reassure and console him all those other times, so what made this time any different?

“Bill, I-I told you! I r-really don’t like crowds an-and I’m really bad at-at dancing and I really don’t want to—!”

He was cut off again, this time by the dark-skinned man looping an arm around his waist, partially and effortlessly dipping him while being mindful of the bustling people around them and the lack of space they gave. The taller male titled his Pine Tree’s chin slightly upwards, forcing gingerbread-brown eyes as wide as dinner plates to meet relaxed and confident blue ones.

“Focus on me, kid, just me.”

Dipper didn’t bother trying to bite back a soft smile.

The duo danced the night away afterwards—or, well, at least until Bill began getting more “aggressive” in their dance which inevitably led to the two of them retiring early for the evening because of certain very recently-planned activities they had much, much later that night (and yes, these activities did drag out to the ungodly hours of the morning).

A few people around them had realized just how heated their dancing was becoming. It’s not like it mattered to either party, though. Many others in the room were doing the same, so the couple forgot about the world around them during their dance.

The day after, while in bed and being securely wrapped in the safety of his partner’s arms, Dipper supposed that parties aren’t all that bad, so long as he’s with Bill.

#fanfic #billdip #my writing #my stuffu #it's better to read it on ao3 #since there's a hidden code every chapter in basically the same place #each one's different tho so have fun deciphering #meh your choice #attempt at fluff #bill makes a pun and dipper knows he's just not gonna deal with it lol #gravity falls

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jeonxgkook · 8 years ago

Text

Not My Problem | 06

cr.

↠ pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6

words: 4.384

genre: Modern kingdom au, prince jungkook + angst

summary: No, not today. You pushed yourself off the window and stumbled to the door. “Y/N, wait!” Jungkook called, running after you.You grabbed the knob of the front door and slammed it open. Before you could take another step into the street, Jungkook caught hold of you, tackling your body to the ground. “Jungkook, stop, she’s gonna―”

A gunshot rang out.

“What the hell did you do?”

The heat from the fire reached your face, the flames growing around the guard tower. Your eyes enlarged and your feet were stuck in their place. You couldn’t move. Sudden flashes of the mines filled your mind, screams echoing at the back of your skull. Your heart jumped into your throat and you couldn’t move. You were stuck. In fear.

“Y/N, snap out of it!”

Jungkook’s voice overlapped in urgency, but the demand didn’t reach your legs. You were frozen. He grabbed hold of your hand and sprinted down the street, opposite of the guard tower. The only reason your feet moved was because of the amount of pressure Jungkook put in your arm, ushering you forward.

Jimin screamed from behind you, “Keep running!”

And you did exactly that. The reality of the situation hit you and you ran faster. Yoongi’s men that surrounded the street were busy steadying their guns or putting out the fire to notice any of you. A bullet shot past your head, barely hitting your hoodie’s fabric. You hurried down the road, your feet pounding down on the pavement. Your heart hammered in your ear, and you could make out the sounds of the thieves.

“Get water!” They ordered as soon another bullet made it past your arm. Though they didn’t hit their target, they had been doing this a long time; their aim was getting better every time.

Jimin soon caught up with you and Jungkook, the older boy stuffing another piece of cloth in his bag. “They’re letting out the fire. Hurry, in here!” He pushed past a few scared civilians and entered an alleyway. Jungkook and you were confused at his plan, but you couldn’t argue.

You raced after him, the aching in your legs growing. You needed to rest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop and rest. Jimin led you through the downtown area, running past fleeing people. One certain tiny building was hidden behind some trees, along with a few buildings and a postal department.

Jimin flung the door open and pulled you and Jungkook inside, literally kicking your back to get you in faster. “Lock up all the windows,” he ordered, and neither you nor Jungkook had any objections.

As told, you boarded up the windows and doors. The house was abandoned without a doubt. The layers of dust built up but then pushed away from the rustle of new human skin.

You ducked under a window and peered over the sill, gazing down the road to see the fire settling. They put it out. Good. You sighed in relief and slumped your back against the dirty wall. At this point, you didn’t give a damn whether your clothes were ratty or not.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jungkook asked the older boy, who had shut the curtains slightly to study the trees around the house.

“Molotov cocktail,” Jimin answered honestly, gesturing to his bag. “All you need is a lighter, some cloth, flammable liquid, and boom―instant barbecue.”

“You almost took out the entire block,” you grumbled, your eyes squinting in anger.

Jungkook butt in, his arms burrowed across his chest, his face covered in profuse anger and frustration, but mostly worry and concern. “You’re one to talk. You didn’t move! You almost died because you froze.”

Jimin predicted damn well this conversation was going a different direction, and he wanted no part in it. “I’ll go see if anything's left in the bedrooms.” The older boy headed out of the room faster than the speed of light, grabbing his bag and cloth with him.

It was just Jungkook and you in the room. Alone. In the dustiness and most desolate house known to the world. This place just screamed haunted.

You refused to say anything to explain your actions, to explain exactly why you halted, why you stopped. Slouching your body onto the filthy couch, the material softened at your body weight. You didn’t face Jungkook; you weren’t scared, you didn’t feel like talking about it. But you knew you had to. If it were him that had froze, you’d want to know, too.

“Y/N, please, explain it to me.” His voice was so velvety, so kind and smitten with. He sat down next to you, placing a hand on your knee. “You can trust me.”

Your arms dropped to your lap, the dreaded aura around you gaining intensity. Sighing, you faced the wall. You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not very fond of fire.”

“Does it scare you?” His voice reminded you of your mother’s. It was so soothing, so nice to listen to, like velvet and honey, and though you trusted him, the way he spoke reminded you of something weak as if he were talking to a fragile vase of a human being.

Your defensive posture still stood. “No, I don’t like it. End of the discussion.”

Jungkook dawned back by your sudden choice of words, but he didn’t question you. Jimin came back into the living room, humming to a tune He held up a candle holder, the gold paint around the handle rusted and brown. “Well, I couldn’t find much, but there's a functional bedroom, plus a few candles and pillows. Y/N, I was thinking maybe you could have it.”

Your head snapped in his direction, his body jolting back at the sudden change in your mood. “No, I think Jungkook should have it. He’s the one with the leg injury.”

Neither of the boys said anything, to you or to each other. They followed your suggestion, Jungkook splitting into the bedroom, Jimin sleeping on the sofa, and you standing near the table around seven in the morning. You’d gotten off track while trying to avoid being found by the guards, you didn’t realize how early it was in the morning.

The gray sky of the morning shone through the enclosed window, casting a slight glow into the room. You pushed a chair out of the way and pulled the curtain only a centimeter away from the windowsill, inching closer to the foggy glass.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” The sudden voice startled you but not enough to disturb your posture or your intentions. You peered behind you to see Jungkook rubbing his groggy morning eyes, slumping closer to you.

“Just keeping an eye out,” you answered. You faced the window again and took the chance to observe clearly. You wiped the cold fog off the fragile glass and watched the world outside the house.

Jungkook leaned into the glass, his chin near your neck. Your breath hitched and your body was unresponsive to your warning, your feet planted into the wooden floor. You tried ignoring the sound of his breath and the warmth of his radiating skin―

“Hey, you okay?” His voice snapped you out of your daydream.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You pulled the curtain back a little more, squinting out the window. The street wasn’t so far away, so it was visible from your position. The barely lit morning sky dawned upon the concrete pavement, the image of human bodies forming near the houses near the end of the street. The whole behavior of the town was off.

“That’s weird,” you muttered.

“What’s weird?” You’d almost forgotten Jungkook was behind you.

“No mailman, no one walking their pets, no community services―they always come in the morning, to help some of the elderly around the downtown area.” You put the curtain back and faced Jungkook.

He undoubtedly wasn’t getting it. “And that’s weird because…?”

“They haven’t missed a single day in over six years.” You pulled the curtain back again and glanced over the upcoming street, the light posts barely brightening the street. Aside from the gang of thieves, no one accompanied the street, almost like it was withdrawn.

Three men remained near a house while a woman dressed in black knocked on the door of one house. You leaned closer to the window, wiping off the newly built-up fog. “Jungkook, come see this,” you mentioned, blindly gesturing over to the window, your eyes still glued to the street.

The boy was near your side in a second, following your gaze to the house across the street. You took notice as the woman in black knocked on the door again when no one answered. Finally, the door to the house swung, and a man came to the porch. You couldn’t hear them or read their lips, but if you had to guess, you’d say he was asking why the woman kept knocking on the door.

They argued, the three other men near the street no paying any attention. The woman in black drew a gun out.

No, not today. You pushed yourself off the window and stumbled to the door. “Y/N, wait!” Jungkook called, running after you.

You grabbed the knob of the front door and slammed it open. Before you could take another step into the street, Jungkook caught hold of you, tackling your body to the ground. “Jungkook, stop, she’s gonna―”

A gunshot rang out.

You thrashed in Jungkook’s arm, but it was no use. He held you to the floor, your legs half-way out the door. You watched as the man’s body fall to the porch, lifeless, dead. You gasped your last intake of breath, your body going limp. Jungkook held your torso from behind, holding you back from running out onto the street.

“I could’ve helped him…” Your lip quivered, burying your face in your trembling hands.

“There’s nothing you could have done.” Jungkook pulled you back into the house, locking the door behind you. You gulped and held a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the groan of frustration growing in your throat.

“What the hell was that?”

Jungkook and you looked up from your spot on the floor, Jimin rubbing his eyes as he got off the sofa he'd been sleeping on. Jungkook knew you didn't have the words to say it, too vulnerable at the moment, so he answered for you, “Someone was murdered across the street. One of Yoongi’s henchpeople.”

“Damn,” Jimin huffed, glimpsing at the exposed window. “Hey, who moved the chair?” As you stood motionless on the floor, Jimin headed toward the window, putting the chair back. He peeked out before boarding up the glass.

“Oh, shit, they're coming!” Jimin dropped the chair, the noise catching your attention, your head popping up to see the doorknob wiggling.

A knock echoed throughout the living room.

Jungkook pulled you away from the door, backing out into the kitchen. Jimin was close behind as another knock came clear.

“Go.” Jimin ushered you out before opening the way for Jungkook. Jimin grabbed hold of his bag and calmly stepped into the kitchen just as Jungkook guided you out the back door.

The older boy took a deep breath and eyed the living room from over the corner of the kitchen. He watched the front door knob as it wiggled, the voice behind the door saying, “Excuse me, may I use your washroom?”

At first, Jimin thought maybe this was just a stranded civilian, someone he mistook for one of Yoongi’s henchmen. He was quickly corrected as the door flew off its hinges, landing with a thump on the floor. He raced to the back door and locked it behind him.

You ran to the woods.

It was the only terrain you thought of: if they followed you, they’d get lost in the trees. Jungkook was close on your heel, Jimin racing right behind, and as a precaution, you reached a group of shrubs and bushes, pushing the boys behind you by their bag straps.

You held your breath.

“Where the hell did they go?” the voice rang. You recognized it. It was Irene.

You grumbled, “Shit,” shuffling out of the bushes and closer to the street.

Jungkook sprinted after you, often tripping over some of the pebbles and broken-down branches. “Where are you going?” he asked, gripping your arm from going any farther.

“The street,” you answered. You pointed out. “While they’re inside, we can make a run for it to the palace.”

“But…” Jungkook bit his lip as Jimin caught up, readying himself for the terrible plan that awaited your mouth.

“I can’t believe you’re considering this,” Jimin nearly shouted. “They’re on our tails. What we need to do is lie low and wait for them to pass.”

“Jimin, you know I’m always with you, that I’ll follow you anywhere, but trust me on this. Irene is stubborn―she’ll find us before we are even near the palace, and then it’s game over. We have to go now.”

The older boy’s jaw clicked, suppressing his discontent with the rash idea; but just as you trusted him, the feeling was mutual. He trusted your judgment. He nodded his head and held the straps of his bag. “Okay.”

Because this wasn’t known territory for either of you, Jimin had to bring out the map. He searched through the pins and lead the way.

Then sirens wailed out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Those sirens held as a town warning. It was normally used for emergencies, often tornadoes or storms. You gazed at the sky; there definitely wasn’t a storm of any kind. The morning sky was as clear as glass.

Jungkook jumped back at the deafening sound. “What the hell is that?”

You gulped. “I-it… It means an emergency.”

Jimin remarked, “I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

The streets sounded silence. Empty. Dead quiet.

The trek to the palace was long and tedious, but not troublesome, which made you even more scared. Less and less of Yoongi’s henchmen were appearing during the day and night. Almost as if Yoongi was giving them a break. Bullshit. Something was up.

After two days of walking and avoiding the occasional group of gang members, you reached the front garden of the white marble palace.

It scared you more than the streets.

No one was around. No guards, no royal family members, nobody.

“Maybe they’re all partying?” Jimin waved his hand around, searching for some source of life. Nothing. “Getting their dead on?”

“Okay, you both remember the plan?” Jungkook asked.

“Run it by me again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

He sighed and gripped the cloth-covered knife handle. In the past couple days, he’d gotten dirt and mud all over his ripped clothes. His tone graveled from lack of water, parched from the long walks of the forest and streets.

“We get in there; no funny business. We tell them about Yoongi, Namjoon’s hospital, and Hoseok’s wounds. Either way, we need to get help down to Namjoon, otherwise, a lot of those patients will die, including Hoseok. Got it?”

Jimin and you clarified that you were ready. You trotted to the steps of the palace entrance, no guards.

The second his foot contacted the abandoned, cold tiled floor, Jungkook muttered, “What the hell?” Darkness emitted from the building struck his eyes, which he found redundant but above all strange.

Jimin reached over to the side of the web-covered wall and fished for the light switch. “Where is the damn… got it!” Not a single light came on.

“Maybe the power’s out.” Jungkook fiddled with his bag until he found a flashlight. Yellow light shone on the horror faced upon human eyes.

Every single living organism in the room dropped dead, every flower drained of life and water, wooden tiles creaked with every step, candles on the chandeliers melted to a millimeter, furniture crumbled at the touch.

“Oh, god,” Jimin gasped, immediately shutting his own light off. He couldn't handle the sudden change of scenery. “Where the hell is everyone? Did they just pack up and leave?”

“Let's not jump to conclusions. Just try to find someone. In the meantime, search for a medical room, closet, cupboard―something that can help.”

You nodded and wandered around the hallway, then you were struck with a stench―rotten meat? It smelt of vinegar and burned flesh.

“What's that stench?” Jimin cleared his throat and held his nose. “It’s gonna make me sick.”

“Should we follow it?” you asked, covering your mouth from gagging at the scent.

Jungkook replied, “With a smell that bad, it's best to avoid it. Come on, we need to look for medical supplies.”

You ventured away from the stench and waddled along the staircase, each step echoing off the walls. It was like everything was hypersensitive to noise. You wandered up, shining light wherever you saw fit. While you looked over the railing of the first floor, you tried making out what might have happened, figure out why the palace was so desolate. You were barely gone for a few days; how could this place have turned this dead in that short amount of time?

At any other day, you would have been working in the kitchen, serving food at some crazy party and regretting, soon after you'd take one glance at Jungkook and understand why you stood around longer.

“Y/N, come back down here.”

You sighed and let go of the railing. You stepped back on the stairs, walking slowly down to the first-floor level.

The echo of shattering glass met your ears.

Jimin eyed you. “You heard that, too, right?”

You nodded as Jungkook flung his light toward the sound. It was the same direction as the rotten stench. Jimin sighed and followed the younger boy. “If we get mauled by zombies, remember, it was Jungkook’s idea.”

You would’ve had the courtesy to smile, but the situation didn't exactly call for that; so, you dismissed his comment and followed the scent of burned flesh. You breathed in through your mouth, filtering out the rodent fragrance; it was so rancid, so festering, so putrid, you almost regurgitated right then and there.

“Keep an eye out,” Jungkook whispered next to you. You searched the darkness, covering every inch in light from your flashlight. The corridor appeared normal; desolate and abandoned, but normal nonetheless.

Jimin called out from a few feet in front of you, “It’s coming from the kitchen.”

Jaw clenched and fists at the ready, you inched closer to the kitchen, careful not to rattle any of the hanging pans and pots. The stench was the strongest here, whipping your senses with rotten flesh.

Coughing, Jungkook nearly had his head taken off by a dangling knife, one that shouldn’t even be suspended from the counter, let alone the ceiling.

Thud.

“Wait.” Jungkook snatched your wrist, stopping all movement. You eyed him as his ears perked, his eyes scanning the kitchen. “Please tell I’m not crazy. You heard that, too, right?”

You and Jimin nodded in agreement, though that wasn’t exactly a good thing. The grip on Jungkook’s hand tightened as you pressed your ear against the giant freezer, the source of the rancid smell.

The door wasn’t as cold as it should be; you figured it was because of the power outage.

Thud.

As you pointed to the freezer, where the stench was the strongest, you mouthed to Jungkook and Jimin, “Here.”

Jungkook pulled you back, putting an arm around your hip, inching closer to the freezer. Cautiously, he tapped the cold door then knocked.

A slight thud was audible, but not as much as earlier.

He knocked again, this time harder.

Thud.

Very faintly, if you listened closely, one would hear the faded sound of someone saying Jungkook’s name.

Jimin’s expression matched yours. “The hell?”

You glanced down at the door handle, a chain wrapped around it. You tried to rip it apart, but it wouldn’t budge. Frustrated, you yanked a knife from the ceiling and sliced it through the chains. Groaning in agony, you tore the chains off, slinging them across the floor.

Jimin slammed his body against the door, knocking it off its hinges, a waft of rotten meat hitting fragile noses. You stepped back as Jungkook headed inside, holding onto your throat.

“Oh, god.” The smell was terrible, you couldn’t stand up straight without coughing.

Though the smell, as bad as it was, lessened in value as Jungkook dragged two bodies out, one conscious, one unconscious.

You raised a brow. “Tanya?”

As she gripped the body of a honey-colored boy, she gasped, falling onto her knees and holding onto the floor of the kitchen. “Thank God!”

As Jungkook helped Tanya on her feet, Jimin examined the unconscious boy. “He’s still alive. How long were you both in there?”

Tears forming in her eyes, Tanya sniffed, “A few days.” She gripped Jungkook’s shoulders. “Thank God you’re okay, I thought they got you, too. I was so worried.”

She dismissed the real issue. Annoyed, you asked, “Who put you in there?”

“They put us in there,” she sneered, glaring at the fire room.

As Jimin held up the boy’s unconscious body, he asked, “Mind elaborating? We’re kind of in a hurry now that we’ve got another person to deal with.” Not a single tint of happiness filled his voice; he wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible.

“Yoongi’s men, who else?” She shouted back like it was a competition. She was bitter, sour, just distasteful for any remark. “I’m assuming you know more than I do.”

Jimin mockingly smiled. “Why, yes, ma’am, we do. Now get your ass up and help us. Or we’ll just leave you.”

It confused you why he acted this way; he was never rude to her before.

What’s gotten into him?

Tanya gasped; “I am a princess! You dare speak to your royal majesty like that?”

“Yes, I dare.” Jimin trudged to exit the kitchen, carrying the boy’s body.

Jungkook pointed. “Who is that? One of the cooks?”

“He got locked inside with me,” Tanya explained. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted her hand slipping over Jungkook’s.

You groaned, “I’m gonna follow Jimin. I’ll give you guys a minute,” though you didn’t mean a single word of it.

Once you all were caught up, your tiny group headed back into the ballroom, led into the basement, and soon came to a surprise.

A knife flew at your face.

The only reason you lived: Jungkook had snatched you out of the way fast enough. You gasped, holding onto his arm. Yours eye grew twice their normal size, your heart thrashing in your skull. “Oh… okay.”

“TANYA!”

The Queen rushed to her daughter, dressed in her simplest clothing. In fact, all the royals had been hidden in the basement, ready to strike at any moment.

Once Jungkook’s mom reached him, he asked, “What are you all doing down here?”

She answered, “A bunch of theives stole from us sweetie. We had to hide here or else they would have taken everything.”

After rejoicing in reunion, Jimin mentioned, “We need medical supplies―now! An entire hospital is about to die!”

Jimin told a few guards the coordinates of the hospital, detailing every possible case of patients he remembered. He handed the unconscious boy, Taehyung, to one of the royal surgeons, explaining the lack of nutrition. Tanya had to get checked out, as well.

A doctor examined Jungkook’s injured leg, saying it’d take a little longer to heal, that he’d need to stay put for a while. Giving you time to rest, the guards set out with the best defense to the hospital, sneaking out the palace.

Once you had convinced the royals the palace was again safe (for the billionth time), they finally rode back upstairs, indulging in their remaining luxury. Jungkook was put into his old room, laying on the bed and resting for the remainder of the night.

Around 4 in the morning, the moon still shining, you snuck into his room, quietly closing the door behind you. Jungkook hadn’t gotten any sleep as far as you could tell, for he held a pillow, wide awake, staring out the window from the bed.

Before you greeted him, you heard a voice: “Jungkook, maybe you should go back to sleep.”

Instantly, you body quietly flung to the door, gripping the door handle. Tanya was already in the room, and neither of them had noticed you from the wall; you couldn't blame them, it was pretty dark, and the door was blocked by a curve of the walls.

Jungkook responded, “I don’t feel like it.”

You heard Tanya sigh in despair. “I know, honey, but don’t worry. The patients at the hospital will be fine. You’ll see. The guards will get the medicine there in time.”

You were glad she reassured him. But you weren’t glad for what happened next. From your limited vision, you saw her neck leaning in closer to his, her lips soon on his.

Your hand flung to your mouth. Oh, no. No. NO!

What gave you a little sense of hope was Jungkook hadn’t initiated it, but he didn’t stop it. You felt a tinge in your chest. Why did that happen? Why did you feel this way? You shouldn’t.

As quietly as you closed it, you exited through the door and into the hallway, gasping for air, all the way to some random room, unoccupied by any royal.

You’d rather he’d kissed you. You’d rather he never kissed her. Which was yours.

You mentally slapped yourself. No, stop that. Technically, you guys weren’t even a couple, just two friends who happened to kiss a few times and had major feelings for each other… but that’s not a couple, right?

No, Tanya and Jungkook. That’s a couple: getting married, love at first sight. That’s what it had to be. This was a kingdom, not everyone who rebelled got what they wanted. Though you would have loved to court him and have him be yours, you knew that was against the morals of every royal in this country.

Plus, you were a “street rat.” Jungkook was a prince. How would that work out? Quick answer: you knew it wouldn’t. There was no way in heaven or hell you’d be with him, or he’d be with you. It was arranged, and you couldn’t change the fact that, even with the royals missing, the rules hadn’t left Tanya’s mind. And you were positive it hadn’t left Jungkook’s, either.

You were just going to have to accept it.

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