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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

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Black on black | Lucas Wong

▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression

A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally.

Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers

Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?

Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.

The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.

You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.

“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.

“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.

He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.

You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.

“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.

“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.

He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.

“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.

“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.

He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.

“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.

“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”

You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.

“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you’re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.

“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.

For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.

‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.

It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.

He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.

“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.

He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.

Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?

His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.

You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.

Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.

“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.

“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”

It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.

Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.

Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.

“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.

Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.

It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.

He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.

He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.

He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.

“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.

“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.

Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”

He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.

Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“

“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.

“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.

“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.

When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”

“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”

“I don’t love you”

“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.

He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.

After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.

Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.

He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.

That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.

But he wasn’t family.

“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.

“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”

He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?

“You said you don’t love me”

“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”

“Why can't you leave me alone?”

He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.

“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”

For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.

“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.

“I love you”

He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.

He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”

Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.

“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”

#nct-writers #neohalloween #kdiner #unfortunatus: inferno #nct smut #wayv smut #wayv wong yukhei smut #lucas smut #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct imagines #nct lucas smut

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local-cry-baby · 4 years

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It's A Promise (Barry x Reader)

so sinnoh remakes (and premakes?!) has been confirmed and of course the first thing I had to do was write a short fic on one of my favorite rival of all time

Sorry but I had to ten year old me had a massive crush on this character lol

writing; short story

word count; 2781

genre; friendship & hurt/comfort (very subtle romance)

reader; gender neutral

au; takes place after the events of DPPt (also Barry has freckles if that counts)

summary; your plans for summer has been hijacked by a certain hyperactive boy

Image

Half asleep you heard the Starlys chirp and trill and the Kricketots chime in harmony with one another, announcing the arrival of morning. You shifted slightly in bed, pulling the covers closer to you and yawned. The best feeling in the world you believe was hearing the sound of the world rousing to the start of a new day and knowing you didn't have to wake up along with it. With a content sigh you roll on your side, slowly drifting off to sleep...

Tap! Tap! Tap!

You furrow your brows slightly at the sound but quickly relaxed, smiling softly to yourself...

TAP! TAP! TAP!

You assume it was just a Starly or two messing outside your window so you chose to ignore it, opting to pull the covers over your head. You sighed again, this time in annoyance, as you try to fall asleep...

Click! Scree!

"Psst! (Y/N), are you sleeping?"

Your eyes open in disbelief as you immediately recognize the voice and just process the fact that he happen to somehow open your bedroom window to ask the obvious. 'Say it ain't so.’ You turned to face your window to see Barry there, arms resting on top of the sill as he watched you with a curious expression which was soon beaming with excitement once he saw you. "Oh good, you're awake!" Like you weren't sleeping to begin with.

"Wha? Barry what are you doing here?" You asked groggily. "Aren't you suppose to be at Pastoria City with Wake?"

"It's summer, duh! Crasher Wake gave me the week off and since your school is closed for vacation I thought it was perfect to catch up and hang out together this week!" Barry had this lively vibe around him that practically made him glow like a ray of sun leaving you dizzy with exhaustion. You plop back in bed with a groan knowing your plans to sleep in till afternoon for the whole week was ruined. "So at first I was thinking of going to the Great Marsh like we use to for old time sake" Barry began as he climbed right in sitting at your windowsill. "But I heard today would reach the hottest temperature ever in Sinnoh history!"

"Really now?" You asked in a monotonous voice. How hot can it possibly be in the coldest region in the world.

"Get this, 72 degrees! Can you believe it?!" As someone who was born and raised in Hoenn, a region where temperatures can reach up to the high 90s during the late summer you weren't exactly impressed. "So change of plans! We're going to spend the day at Sandgem Beach so pack your things!"

You glanced at the digital clock on your bedside. It read 6:22AM. "Barry it's too early! Can't we go like at 10 or something?"

"No way! We have to go now otherwise it'll be full if we go any later!"

"When is Sandgem Beach ever full!? You can barely even call it a beach!" You turned away from your friend, wrapping yourself up in your blanket. You were not getting out of this bed.

"Come on (Y/N)!" Barry whined. "We haven't hung out in so long! I literally spent all night planning this week out and you're just going to turn me down?! If Lucas and Dawn were here they would've agreed in going!" You can hear the irritation in his voice but underneath it was a hint of dejection. Shortly after your journey with the trio came to an end things changed. Dawn moved to the Kalos region a year ago to continue her study on Pokemon and just a few months afterwards Lucas left to Unova for reasons unknown though you had a hunch that it had something to do with that officer Looker. Barry spend most of his days at Pastoria’s gym, training intensely with Crasher Wake. As for you your parents never supported your dreams of becoming a Pokemon Trainer and your battling skills were left to be desired so you dropped it to continue your studies and follow a more reasonable career.

Although you didn't look at him you can feel him gazing at you, presumably with a pout or with Lillipup eyes. You groaned in defeat. "Fine."

Barry barely let you finish your sentence as he responded, "Really? Awesome! Don't forget to bring your Pokemon along with you, alright? And don't show up late otherwise I'll fine you!" With that he jump out your window and let out a yelp. "Don't worry! I'm alright!"

You sighed, wondering how anyone could have so much energy so early in the morning as you practically dragged yourself out of bed to start the day.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Sandgem Town was quiet, the majority of the residents still asleep or just starting their day. You haven’t been in Sandgem in quite a while yet walking down the somewhat familiar road invoked a nostalgic feeling. You paused, looking at the houses on the street till you spot the familiar lab down the road. Professor Rowan’s lab. It almost felt like yesterday when you took your first step through Route 201 alongside your friends Lucas and Barry (although the latter practically raced his way there) to get here with your first Pokemon, Riolu. You couldn't help but smile at the memory before going on your way to Sandgem Beach. And, as you predicted, it was empty saved for Barry.

He stood at the edge of the boardwalk, his back facing you as he perform some stretching exercise. His team was already out of their Pokeballs, enjoying themselves. Infernape was meditating, Roserade, Snorlax, and Staraptor were sunbathing, Floatzel was swimming, and Heracross was attempting to bury itself in the sand, seeking warmth. Taking out three Pokeballs from your belt you released your team: Lucario, Lopunny, and Vaporeon. Your Pokemon looked around their surroundings before glancing up at you in surprise. When was the last time you actually brought them somewhere that wasn't home or your school’s campus? “Go on you guys. Have fun!” With that said your Pokemon went off to do their own thing.

Lucario sat beside Inferape, joining it in meditation and Lopunny bounded excitedly over to its long time crush, Roserade, the Bouquet Pokemon vastly annoyed that its peace was disrupted as it escaped from its crushing grip. Lastly, Vaporeon decided to take a swim, dipping into the ocean and blending itself into its surroundings, disappearing from sight.

The commotion between Lopunny and Roserade caught Barry's attention as he looked over to notice you. "Too slow!" He yelled running over to you. Not even giving you a chance to say something he grabs your arm and drags you over to the boardwalk. Once he lets go he begins to take off his shirt.

"Ready for what?" You asked.

“Barry!” You never saw your friend shirtless before so you couldn't help but feel flustered. Though he didn’t seem to care as he carried on anyways. As you assumed, Barry had a lean figure, what you didn't expect however was the amount of freckles he had. Although Barry had freckles dusting his cheeks and nose they were barely noticeable compared to the ones on his back and shoulders which were far more prominent. Realizing you were staring longer then normal you quickly turned away, trying to hide the awkward blush.

Luckily, Barry didn't notice. "Ready?"

"To swim!"

You look down at the blue water before dipping a bare foot in. It was ice cold. "It's freezing!" You exclaimed.

"It's not that bad!"

"Thanks but I pass" you said, waving a hand dismissively.

Barry pouted but it was soon replaced with a mischievous smile. "Alright then, suit yourself." He said, surprising you. Barry wasn't one to easily let things go without trying to convince you first. He's up to something, you know it. You were about to ask but he had already left your side as he jump right into the water, splashing you head to toe causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips from the sudden shock of being doused in icy water. Barry pop back up to the surface with a triumphant smirk, his bright eyes gleaming with playfulness.

"You suck!" You yelled causing him to laugh as he dived back underwater. Soaked to the bone there really was no point in staying out of the water in hopes of drying off soon, not with this cold breeze that made it impossible to warm up. You remove your hoodie and shorts revealing your (color) swimsuit before setting them down on the boardwalk and slipping into the water. Since you were already cold the frigid water didn't get to you, feeling more welcoming then before.

You looked around for your rival, trying to spot the blonde in the murky water but only saw his Floatzel which was lazily floating around. "Barry?” Something suddenly grabbed onto your ankle causing you to scream in surprise and flailing to get away, kicking away whatever touched you.

Barry appeared right beside you, clutching his left cheek. "Ow! Seriously?! You just kicked my face!"

"Well you shouldn't have grabbed me like that!" You said. He only stick his tongue out at you before swimming over to the boardwalk, crossing his arms and resting his head atop of it. You watched him as he stared up at the blue sky with a content expression, droplets of water clinging on to his hair as it shined in the morning light. Seeing him like this gave you the same flustered feeling from before. You couldn't quite wrap your head around as to why though. You’ve known him since kindergarten. So why all of a sudden you felt awkward around him?

"What’s up?" You didn’t even realize that he had stopped gazing up at the sky in favor of looking at you.

“What do you mean?” You said, turning elsewhere though it was in vain since he already caught you this time around.

“You were staring at me just now. It was pretty weird.” You try to think of something to say, mainly to defend yourself but to your relief he changed the subject. “So how’s school?”

You shrugged. “It’s alright. Senior year isn’t difficult compared to the other years since we’re more focused on applying for college.”

“Do you know where you want to go?” You noticed his words were a bit quiet and reserved unlike his usual chipper and noisy self.

“Well I was hoping to go to University of Unova since it’s known for having the best (career) course” you explained. “Though my parents aren’t too keen on me going that far so I might just stick to Goldenrod University.”

“I know that but...” He trailed off for a moment, thinking of what to say. “Can’t you just go to Canalave College instead?”

“Goldenrod!?” Barry’s sudden sharp tone made you flinch. “Why so far?” He was looking at you with a hurt expression that made you feel guilty despite the fact you didn’t do anything wrong. At least, you felt like you did nothing wrong.

“Well compared to Unova which is practically halfway across the world. Johto is just south of Sinnoh.”

“Barry, Canalave College doesn’t even have programs on what I’m going for.”

“Ugh, this is why I’ve always hated school” Barry grumbled, letting go of the boardwalk just to sink further into the water leaving just his eyes visible to you, glaring down at nothing in particular. He almost resembled that of a pouting child.

You didn’t understand why he was so upset about your plans or why he was trying to make you change your college decisions. Unless… “You don’t want me to leave?”

Barry barely let you finish your sentence as he quickly got up. “It’s not that!”

“Then what’s the problem?” You pressured.

At this point Barry wasn’t even looking at you, opting to just randomly glance around the area. “There is no problem! It’s just...” With a sigh he finally looked at you. Honey colored eyes stared at your (e/c) ones, his cheeks gaining a bright shade of pink. “I thought even though Lucas and Dawn left at least I still have you around.”

You couldn’t help but frown. You didn’t realize just how attached Barry was to you and the others until now. Naturally you felt bad but you certainly couldn’t change your plans for him either as much as it hurts you to see him like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would be this upset about it but it’s just how it is. Eventually we have to go our own way to live our lives. Right now you’re training with Crasher Wake to become one of the best Pokemon Trainer ever. At some point you’re going to leave Sinnoh to follow that dream, right?” He remained silent but nodded in response. “Just because we’re not going to be together like old times doesn’t mean we’re no longer friends. You’ll always be my best friend no matter what.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I was being over dramatic.” You couldn’t help but smile when you saw his expression brighten. That was until he started giggling leaving you perplexed.

“Huh? What’s so funny?” You asked

“Sorry I just found the whole ‘you’ll always be my best friend’ bit kind of cheesy.”

“I was trying to cheer you up you douche!” You snapped unable to control your blush of embarrassment as Barry continued laughing. Seeking petty revenge you bought your fingers to your lips and let out a sharp whistle. Without warning your Vaporeon splashed out between you both before spouting water right in his face. He sputtered in surprise as he attempted to shield himself.

“So that’s how it’s going to be huh?” He challenged before calling for his Floatzel who immediately appeared by his side. Already getting the cue of what was going on the Pokemon retaliated by spraying sea water over you by spinning its propeller-like tails. Oh, it’s on now. Barry however was already a step ahead of you as he mounted onto his Pokemon’s back. “Good luck trying to catch me Slowpoke!” He taunted with a smirk before promptly swimming away from you. You knew Vaporeon was nowhere near as fast as Floatzel but you sure as hell weren’t going to let him get away so easily. You got on Vaporeon’s back and began swimming after the two, unable to contain the childlike excitement and determination you were getting from the chase.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

For the first time since you moved to the chilly region you truly felt the warmth of summer in Sinnoh. You and Barry sat on a bench right outside Sandgem Beach, not bothering to change out of your swimsuits as you ate popsicles and watch the afternoon go by. Residents glance at you both with odd looks since beachgoers rarely, if ever, visit their town but neither of you mind at all. After having that impromptu water fight you both decided to have a Pokemon battle, for old time sake. Of course you lost but you didn’t mind. Its been so long since you felt the fun and adrenaline that battles gave you that you completely forgot why you enjoyed them so much in the first place.

“Hey (Y/N)?” You looked at Barry who took a small bite from his orange creamsicle. “I know I said it was cheesy but is it true? I’ll always be your best friend no matter what?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” You had just finished your (flavor) popsicle, dumping the stick in the trash can beside you. He remained silent and although he said he was fine you notice still a hint of sadness in his expression as he stared off in the distance. Placing a hand on his shoulder you diverted his attention to you as you beamed at him. “It’s a promise.”

There was a sudden shimmer in his eyes and you wonder if he was tearing up when he quickly rub at them. “It better be otherwise I’ll fine you ten million PokeDollars if you replace me!” You couldn’t help but giggle, Barry joining in.

“So what’s the plan tomorrow?” You asked.

“Well I was thinking the Great Marsh maybe. If you’re fine with that.”

You nodded. “I bet I can catch more Pokemon then you.” You smirked when his smile faded into an annoyed expression.

“As if! I’m totally going to kick your ass!” He said swatting away your hand when you attempted to ruffle his hair just to irk him.

Needless to say, you were pretty glad he woke you up this morning.

#pokemon #pokemon writing #pokemon x reader #barry x reader #pokemon dppt

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luvknow · 5 years

Text

parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls.

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -��

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!”

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified.

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with.

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!”

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

#bang chan #chan #skz #stray kids #skz chan #stray kids chan #college au #roommates au #chan scenarios #bang chan scenarios #chan imagines #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #omg no more chan for a very long time im tired of him LOL

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nam-nam-joon · 4 years

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Pairing: lucas/wong yukhei x reader

Genre: meet cute; rich kids AU

Wordcount: 10.6k

Warnings: lots of swearing; yukhei punches someone

Summary: one word is all it takes, and the opaque glass dome surrounding him cracks, and then there's you peeking in through the opening.

notes: i started this in february '19, when i was in san fran, and very much walking through the fashion district and marvelling at the sketches in the boutique windows of dior, and watching the actual rich people around there. and i've loved @stormae 's rich kid AUs for so long, i wanted to try and write my own :)

The first time he sees you, he doesn’t know it’s you yet.

And he also doesn’t see you, not really.

That is, his mind registers a person crouching off to the side as he steps up to the crossing, one hand in his pant’s pocket, the fingers of the others lazily curled around the thin velvet strings of a small bag, carrying a bottle of the expensive scent his mother always leaves a hint of wherever she goes.

That she forgot at home before this trip, and sent him to fetch for her, because of course they didn’t take Doyoung with them for this weekend trip to the fundraiser in the city by the bay.

And in lieu of their usual boy-for-everything, the next best thing is of course their own son.

He doesn’t mind.

It gives him an excuse to saunter around the streets of the high society neighbourhood their hotel is located in, somewhere among the sparkling city lights of downtown.

A breath escapes him.

It is a city like any other. The only difference with this one are the light buildings and summer etched into every corner and crevice, even though the temperatures aren’t quite there at this time of the year.

Running his mother's errand gives him an excuse to breathe in the air that smells of big city, of a million different foods, like gasoline and a bit of freedom, too.

When he walks the streets like this he can be nobody. Just another face in the crowd - a very expensively dressed crowd, but nonetheless. Here he doesn’t have a name, doesn’t have watchful eyes on him scrutinizing his every move, like his father likes to do. Noone there to clutch at his arm and whisper harsh words to him, in a tongue foreign to most of those surrounding them, behind the back of those who take selfies with their new purchases safely tucked into bags that boast the name of brands. His mother’s words are unforgiving about anyone falling outside her perception of no less than perfection, of people like his father and his colleagues, and ultimately, him and his friends.

Because, really, they’re the next generation of perfect people, carefully raised and curated by the last generation of perfect people.

But then there’s movement from the end of his field of vision and you step into it from the right, hand brushing back a few stray hairs that escaped into places they're not meant to be in and the first thing he sees is the way the headlights of passing cars momentarily create a glowing circle around your head, the way the traffic lights tint your face into a multitude of colours, and his eyes, usually so fleeting and only ever interested in the horizon, can’t let go.

They slip down your body with a practiced ease that has been second nature longer than he can think.

He doesn’t know anything about you other than you look absolutely ethereal bathed in the unassuming shine of artificial light.

But then his gaze runs down the length of your body and he comes up empty handed. Not one piece of clothing that you’re wearing bears the label of a designer he’s familiar with.

The washed out pants are rolled up over the worn out converse, there’s the hint of a flannel peeking out beneath your open jacket that seems just light enough to not cause sweat on this early spring's evening. The model of your phone is that from four years ago, but that’s all he can recognize.

Although it tells him enough.

And yet…

Another vespa zips by and in its headlight something at your belly blinks up. A small flutter spreads through his stomach as he takes in the knobs and levers, the metal and beaten black plastic. The long lens with its round cover and your left hand protectively curled around the whole creation, cradling it so close that he can’t think other than to immediately assume it’s just a part of you.

“Hey.” He says, before his brain can stop his mouth. It comes out low and even, a smirk playing around his lips.

The light switches to green, after what feels like an eternity, and you begin to walk before turning your head in his direction.

But instead of the million little things he is so used to hearing in return to one of his “Hey”'s - you don’t say anything. You just look at him and smile, you look into his eyes and smile. And then your gaze leaves him, without a second look, without scanning him. Without seeing him.

It has the smirk threat to slip for a second.

“So, uh, I noticed your camera. You really like photography, huh? Is it a hobby of yours?”

You stop at the next corner and turn into the direction of the setting sun flooding the street that gently slopes down in front of you, lift the camera and keep quiet for a moment. His gaze is fixed on the way your fingers turn a ring close to where the lens meets the rest of the camera, making adjustments, before your body seems to freeze for the fraction of a second that it takes until the camera clicks and you lower it.

Your eyes meet his again and he notes how your right hand automatically turns a little lever, a ticking noise emitting from the case in your hands for the duration of the movement.

“Yeah, you could say that. But I mostly just like to take pics of pretty things, or things I like. It’s not really- Not like I earn money with it or so.”

He nods. “Been here before? In the city, I mean." Then he adds. "I’m Lucas, by the way.”

He waits, one step ahead of you, until you put the cover back over the lens and slowly catch up to him.

“_______. And nah, First time for me. You?”

“Me neither. You like it?”

“It’s alright.” The grin on your face screams that your passive tone is a lie, and his lips curl into a grin until you crack and join in. “Yeah, I love it. Been here for a week now and am still finding new favourite spots every day. What about you? Here for a vacation?”

If only, he thinks, as his eyes catch on the dark clouds opposing the radiant sunset.

“Family trip.” He says instead.

“Oh, awesome! I’d love to have my fam here now- it would be so nice to go sightseeing with them. Where have you been already?”

His eyes trail back to yours, slightly irritated at the energy you just revealed, and the passion behind your words when speaking of the people that created you.

“Just arrived today.” He says, and it’s only half a lie. But he doesn’t know how to explain that his parents aren’t the type to go sightseeing with their offspring; that the idea of his mother in her Manolo’s strutting over the local tourist hot spot bridge is… bizarre.

“Oh, okay.” You say, and he can sense the slight dent his answer gave your enthusiasm. “Well… where do you wanna go? What stuff are you here for to see?”

You add, after he keeps quiet for a moment while trying to come up with a smooth save.

“The… bridge.” He says, as it is the first thing falling into his head. A knowing smile has your eyes glinting, like you are somehow able to see through him.

It has an uncomfortable feeling spread inside him - the pretense he always dresses in to keep his parents - his friends, everyone around him - happy so much more important than some pretty person his mind couldn’t let go of after laying eyes on.

The subdued panic wells up in his chest. He briefly considers walking off, especially now that your head is tilted down and his feet are in your direct line of sight.

The black sock sneakers carry the little printed letters that spell ‘Balenciaga’ along the outer sides, their low rise only allowing a thin slip of skin to show around his ankles before the elastic band of his pants covers the rest of the leg that the sun touched with a tan again, now that he’s away from the snow of winter.

He almost holds his breath.

All of his friends are like him.

Young, good looking.

Wealthy.

You’re no less good-looking and yet as different to him as night is to day.

Your eyeliner is a bit messy towards the outer corners of your eyes, like you had wiped at it, forgetting it was there. There’s frizz making short hairs stand up over the rest of where it is kept together. He can see it’s been a while since you last plucked your eyebrows, but all of it contributes to an image that is so much more human than what he’s used to.

You’re not proper, with skin smooth as if airbrushed like the girls his mother wants him to converse with at events, you have your camera to snap keepsakes of your travels, alone, in a city that is not your own.

You’re walking these streets without fear, and without caring that almost everyone else here is dressed in clothes that, a single item alone, probably costs more than all of yours combined.

There is something fierce inside you that he catches a glint of as a Tesla purrs by and your eyes flash over the car; the way your eyebrows quip upwards for a moment and your lips purse, and suddenly he feels awfully aware of what he’s wearing.

Of how confident you look, how comfortable, without a single brand name lining your side.

Your eyes meet his again, and this time, they stay longer. Flit around and take in all his features before you open your mouth and the spark of mischief beautifully adorns your expression.

“I know the perfect place to see the bridge. Wanna come?”

“Wh- Now?” His eyes fly to the smart watch on his wrist, the time ticking away, and the notification that his mother send him a message, asking about her perfume.

“Yeah. Now. Unless you got somewhere else to be?”

He has. He really has.

“Uh… can I meet you sometime later? Like… eleven, maybe?”

Is that disappointment on your face?

“Ah, I see. Sorry for going in like that, I thought… Nevermind. Hey, look, if you need to go, I won’t keep you.”

This expression he knows, although it’s strange to see on your soft, warm face that holds no trace of the practiced smiles and pleased looks that cover the features of him and his friends. You’re pulling back, distancing yourself.

He swallows down the panic that rises in the pit of his stomach against all the rules and mental restrictions he built over the course of miserable years of splendor and grandeur; the very same walls you crept around and instantly closer to his soul than anyone since his childhood nanny.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I really do want to go with you. It’s just- My parents- I have to bring this to them, and they’ll expect-”

He notices, notices the way your eyes catch on the little bag he holds up, and it’s a pinprick into his chest as he remembers the triple digits he paid for with his travel credit card.

But then your eyes touch his again, and they’re not hard, not unforgiving, not condescending. Just curious.

He gapes at you as you look up at him without a single wrinkle of displeasure on your face.

And in that moment he makes a decision.

“You know what, fuck my parents.” He steps around you and lifts a hand, a cab setting its blinker almost immediately to respond to his call. “I’ll bring this to them and then we can go to see the bridge.”

He pauses with the door held open, wondering why you’re still standing on the sidewalk, camera in hand.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I don’t really have money for taxis.”

He furrows his brows and puts one arm over the door. “It’s alright, I’ll pay. Don’t worry about it.”

When you slip into the seat next to him he tells the driver the address of his parent’s hotel and the car leaves the curb.

“Four Seasons, huh.” You say flatly.

“Yeah. My mother won’t stay at any other.”

It comes out matter of fact, and he has to look over to see the shadow of a grin around your lips before he realizes your sarcasm is such a subtle tease he didn’t pick up on it at first.

“Are you sure they won’t kick me out?”

He brushes past the portier opening the glass door for you, but as he turns around to look back at you he catches you mouthing a thank-you at the young man in the neatly pressed uniform.

“Of course they wouldn’t. Just- just wait here, okay? I’ll be back in a sec.”

You grin and shake your head.

“Hey Lucas!” You call out then, as he waits in front of the elevator. “Wear something plain, okay?”

“Where do you think you’re going.” Comes the voice from his father, stern and with the disapproval so expertly woven into it that he has long since stopped hearing it.

“Out.” He says flatly, picking up his leather jacket he left draped over one of the chairs on his mother’s side of the bed on his way out, back down to you after switching pants and shoes. The flask with perfume is safely clutched in his mother’s hand. It clinks against the marble vanity as she sets it down.

“Lucas! We have an event scheduled, you cannot be-”

“That’s not my name!” He interrupts the higher voice of his mother, his own voice suddenly spiking.

It’s the name _______ knows you by, an evil little voice whispers in his head that he shoves down.

“That’s not my name.” He repeats into the heavy silence after his outburst, more controlled. “Don’t pretend you care about me being there with you, I would just get in your way, as usual. Have fun getting drunk.”

The heavy oak door cuts off his parent’s voices, the nagging one of his mother and the scolding one of his father.

When he rips the clean, neat button down off of him it almost feels like he's shedding a layer that reeks of his parents. He dumps it in one of the artfully concealed trash bins and tugs the white tee shirt he's wearing underneath out of his pants.

He knows he’ll pay for this little act of rebellion, this act of defiance, but when he leans his head against the cool tiles in the elevator, he doesn’t find it in himself to care.

You greet him with crossed legs sitting on one of the decorative, uncomfortable couches in the lobby, the latest Vogue open on your lap.

“Finally. The receptionist was creeping their hand closer to the phone to call the cops on me by the minute.” You grumble, and it’s really not your fault, but he tips his head back and laughs.

He catches you as you eye the plain white shirt, the leather jacket over his arm. Your eyebrows rise as you take note of his shoes - the Balenciaga’s are gone, replaced with a pair of Adidas, so new they practically sparkle.

“What.” He ducks his head to meet your gaze, but you refuse to meet his as you exit the hotel.

“Just look at you. I can’t take you anywhere like this, people will think we’re super good targets to mug and then leave in a ditch. Here, put this on. And give me your jacket.”

He’s too baffled to refuse to take the flannel you just shrugged out of. It’s still warm when he takes it, and it smells more like the scent he only caught a trace of when you sat next to him. He draws a deep breath and hopes you won't notice.

It’s big, at least for you, but on him, it fits. Out of your backpack you conjure up a smaller, slouchier bag, littered with patches that carry unknown town’s names. A water bottle and a polaroid camera find their new home in it, before you stuff your own jacket into the bigger bag and hand it to him. He takes it, again, slinging his arms through the hoops and adjusting them so they fit him.

“C’mon, bend down a little, won’t ya? I’m not a giant like you.”

He complies against his better judgement, cautious eyes under worrying eyebrows keeping track of your facial features, watching out for any trace of malice that might appear as you come close.

It's all he can do to not flinch too heavily when you lift your arm.

Your hand ruffling through his hair, messing up the slicked-back look, catches him off-guard and he’s left to stare at your face in wonder after you lean back, satisfaction radiating from you.

“There, better. Now you’re just a backpacker like me, with fresh splurged-on shoes. Let’s go.”

He offers to take another cab, to wherever you want to go, but you simply shake your head.

“Half the fun is getting there.” You tell him and his burning calves as you climb what is possibly the steepest street he’s ever encountered.

He admires the way you push forward, always half a step in front of him. At the top you look back to where he’s briefly catching his breath, beckoning him forward with a smile.

His jacket looks good on you, he notices. The sleeves are so long that you can make paws out of them, and in the fresh, almost cold evening air, you do, which he thinks is adorable. In a good way.

It takes longer than he thought, from the bustling core of the fashion district across town. You lead him through the criss-crossing streets, point at stuff, and show him things he’d never notice otherwise.

It’s long since pitch black dark before he’s following you through a patch of trees, down a slight slope.

“You sure this is the way? I-”

“Yeah! It’s just one more corner, bridge should be there then, don’t you fret! I’d never lead you astray.”

Doubt sparks sharply in his thoughts, but he fights it down.

He doesn’t know you, not really, he reminds himself; even after a cab ride and a trek across the city spent talking, but it’s this or the fundraiser.

His breath stinging his sides or his mother's manicured fingers pinching him to keep him from slouching.

The refreshing air, heavy with moisture and the smell of trees, or the stuffy warmth that has him light headed without any alcohol - that is saturated with perfumes so thickly he could cut it into pieces.

He steps in a puddle and his adidas aren’t so white anymore, he’s pretty sure he walked himself a blister somewhere and the cold is beginning to seep in, after the hills of the city are behind you

“Lucas! You coming?”

The name is another setback, another pinprick, but he jogs up to where your voice comes from.

The sky behind the trees is oddly red, as if a great light is illuminating the clouds.

He’s only reached you when you already turn, and he wants to call out for you to stop, wait up, and then…

And then he sees the bridge.

The two towers rise high into the night’s sky, six streams of cars flow between them, one side white, one red lights.

It connects the curving street to the dark mountains across the water, where the trail of light vanishes between the sloping tops.

“It’s good, eh?” You smile up at him, suddenly back by his side. He nods and swallows, unable to look away.

The sight shouldn’t be special, he’s seen bridges like these lit up all over the world, so why is this one so breathtaking?

He hears the snap of the shutter, the clicking of the film being turned, once, twice.

He turns his head just in time to hear it click a third time, and he needs a moment before he realizes the last picture definitely has him in it.

“Hey! Did you take a picture of me?”

“So what if I did?” Your grin is shit-eating wide, and he feels himself give in.

“-That’s not allowed.” He says for a lack of anything better when it looks like you’re still waiting for an answer.

You laugh and turn to the front, admiring the sight again.

The countless headlights sparkle in your eyes, the red glow shining on your face.

He gets the urge to snap a picture as well, and in that moment understands you a little bit.

This close, shoulder to shoulder, the details of your face stand out differently.

He should say something, break the silence that’s stretching uncomfortably between you, but there’s nothing coming to his mind.

You turn your head and meet his eyes, and deep down he dreads the comments that will come, about him staring, about him not conversing, about him being rude.

But all you do is smile up at him like he’s the nicest thing you've seen all day, and inch a bit closer.

“It’s cold, no?” He breathes in, breaking eye-contact in favour of the dark water and the park spreading out around you.

“You want your jacket back?” You’re already lowering your backpack’s strings before his hand catches yours, pauses your movement.

“No, no it’s fine.”

“You sure? I can handle it, I’ve got my own jacket. You don’t have to be all tough, don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Trust me, I’m good.” His hand lowers, and he smiles.

“No it’s not!” You speak up, catching his palm in your own. “You’re all clammy! Here, take your jacket back and give me mine, c’mon.”

No matter how much he protests, you don’t take no for an answer, and fifteen minutes later he’s begrudgingly trotting along the beach on the other side of the street, back towards the city, wearing his own jacket.

Your connected hands gently swing between you.

Now and then you sigh, and then take a breath as if wanting to say something, but then you don’t and he’s left to wonder.

The moon breaks through the clouds now and then, bathing the wide walkway in silver-grey light, and then shrouds itself again.

“What’s on your mind?” He brings out, after another sigh of yours.

Your eyes meet his, your face open even though you’re biting on your lip and struggle with words.

But he meant what he said, doesn’t look away, even stops and tugs you to follow his example.

“I’m just,” You begin, looking off into the distance. “Every vacation comes to an end. Guess I’m both relieved and sad about it at once.”

“When do you go back?” He can’t believe he hasn’t asked until now.

“Next week.”

“That’s still some time.”

“I know. It’s what I keep telling myself, but… Time flies. One moment you’re arriving in a new city and the next you find yourself leaving. Life is so fast sometimes and it’d be nice to... Live slow. You know?”

Oh, he knows.

He’s never known anything slow.

The cars he and his friends drive are fast, whenever one of those friends takes an interest in a girl or a boy or anyone, really, they’re fast to proclaim their love and date and then fast to break up. The planes that are bringing him from city to city are fast, the way he only has to tap his plastic on the card reader and it rings up his purchase, fast.

But you’re slow.

You walk, everywhere, you tell him, and he listens. You talk slow, too, there’s a lot of breaks between your sentences, he learns, and occasionally you’ll pick up a topic to talk about that he thought you’d finished already and moved on from, just to add another perspective he hadn’t considered.

The ocean is slow, too, with the waves rolling on the sandy beach and barely grazing the stone steps you sat down on to watch the water.

“Can I lean into your side for a while? I’m not feeling so well.” You say quietly, barely above the wind and the waves.

He turns his head, takes in how your eyes are a bit distant, staring out over the rippling surface.

Instead of answering he puts his arm around your shoulders, shuffles closer until the length of his thigh touches yours and he can tug you into the side of his body.

Both your arms snake around his waist, under his jacket, and because it is right there and not doing it seems weird, he leans his cheek on the top of your head.

This is fast, too, he muses, cuddling the same day you met; but his sore feet and the hours of walking around and talking make it seem like he's known you for longer.

He can’t remember any of his friends ever having talked so much with him.

The bar in the basement of the hostel is loud, filled to the brim with people, there’s music pumping between the walls and he doesn’t know anyone but you.

You vanish to put away your bags and even though this is a place he should feel more comfortable in, he doesn’t.

Maybe it’s because it’s not so dark that he can still see everyone, and everyone can still see him, and everyone is dressed much like you, if not a little more shabby and run-down.

He’s stood by the bar, waiting for two small colas, because they don’t sell the champagne he usually goes for.

“That’ll be nine bucks mate.”

He waits for the clerk to put the card reader out for him, and when the guy doesn’t, he feels the annoyance bubbling up.

“Card?” He says, irritated.

“Sorry buddy, cash only.”

“What?!”

“‘scuse me says so up front.” The guy shrugs, hands inching closer to take the cheap plastic cups away.

“I got it!”

He turns and you’re back, with hair fresh up and shockingly clothed with just a single t-shirt. Gone are the layers and layers from before, and it's like you're a different person.

You put a note with a ten on it down on the counter, politely say thank you upon receiving your change and then turn, handing one cup to him.

He feels strange, still riled up because of the embarrassment and because you were the one to save him, and because you seem to not find fault in that, just smile and take a sip.

“I’m Yukhei.” He blurts out.

Your eyebrows twitch closer together. “I’m ________.” You repeat.

“No, I mean… That’s my name.” He shifts, uncomfortable.

“And Lucas?”

“That’s… That’s my western name. The one my parent’s call me by. But… Yukhei is my real name.” He takes a sip as well, almost cringing at the sugary taste.

“Do you prefer Lucas or Yukhei?” You take another sip, and your eyes are so soft again.

“-Yukhei.” He answers, looking into them.

“Come on guys, make some room for Yukhei and me alright?”

He preens, unseen by anyone but himself, under the way you call his name, and he takes another sip, almost used to the taste by now.

Under a lot of shuffling and grumbling the present people free up a tiny space on the bench and you motion for him to sit down.

As soon as his butt hits the worn out wood, he finds you in his lap, using him as a seat for yourself.

The hand not busy holding his drink comes up to your hip by instinct, he looks up at you out of wide eyes, lips twitching but finding no words for the bold move.

He's had people grinding down on him in clubs everywhere, this shouldn't feel different. It does. This is so much more intimate.

“Everything alright? If I get too heavy I can get off?” You turn and are a lot closer to him than he thought, noses almost touching.

“Huh? Uh, no, I’m good, don’t- Don’t worry. Is this okay for you?”

You nod, half listening to a conversation happening at the table again.

Over the course of the next hour you go and refill your own and his cups, with fanta this time, which he likes a bit better. Every time you come back to him he looks up at you and expects you to demand a seat for your own now, but every time you shuffle back into his lap. The hand on your hip slowly extends each time until you take his fingers and drag them over until his arm is lying around your belly.

His chin is on your shoulder whenever you’re there, but he mostly listens and doesn’t contribute to the chats much.

To his surprise his trips to Tokyo, Monaco or Dubai sound a lot less glamorous, exciting and adventurous compared to what some of the people here, not even much older, can talk about.

One backpacked his whole way down the Rocky Mountains, across a whole continent; another hasn’t been home in two years and is looking to get another visa somewhere else already.

One has just arrived from their plane coming in from the other coast, and another travelled all of the north and is now looking for something a little more southern.

He learns that you’ve been to quite a few places yourself, listen intently as you recall memorable moments and rant about impossible people you’ve come across.

He squeezes once after a loud round of laughter has mostly died down, and even though you’re currently talking to a girl diagonally across from you, your own hand comes up to cover his and squeeze back, and he doesn’t think twice about it but knows you heard him, told him to hang in there.

Once you’ve both said your words you turn to him, curiosity on your face. The way you’re sat, twisted, is a little unstable and so you put a hand on his shoulder, to keep steady.

“Hm?”

“Where’s the bathroom here?”

“Ha? Oh, it’s through that door, on the left side, you just have to follow- Do you want me to show you?”

He feels silly, already mentally beating himself up about not being man’s enough to just go, but already you’ve stood up, linked your hands and are pulling him along.

“You okay? You’ve been so quiet?”

He feels like his ears are half deaf, now, in the silent hallway after the door to the bar shuts.

“Just… tired.” He avoids your question, but not entirely, either.

“Shit, you arrived today, I forgot… Hey if you wanna get out of here just tell me.”

He nods and mirrors your smile before pushing open the door to the washroom.

You’re still there when he comes out again, leaned against the wall, tapping on your phone.

“All done.” He announces, bouncing his hands by his hips, and you smile at the cute voice he puts on.

"Wanna go back inside? Or have enough yet."

He rubs a hand over his neck and looks to the side.

"I think I can stomach another cola. Or fanta. How much do I owe you?"

You shake your head and wave a hand.

"I’ll send you a bill, pretty boy. Come now, don’t think you get a lot of chances at getting out of your ivory tower to mingle among the common folk, eh."

He wants to open his mouth and disagree, and then he doesn't

You squeeze his hand and part with him before you get back to the table, motioning in the direction of the bar and likely referring to the last drink he mentioned, and he nods and goes to sit back down.

You join him soon after, leaning forward a bit to squeeze between the table and his legs, and over your shoulder he catches the leer of one of the guys that’s been eyeing you a little too much all evening.

But you don’t seem to notice and so he clenches his hand into a fist and presses it against the wood.

Soon after, one of the girls from the right side of the table puts her drink down and gestures towards him.

“What about you, where are you from? You staying in the hostel as well?”

He answers, as best as he can, and he’s had a lifetime of dodging and carefully evading clear answers and if the others are aware of him shifting the topic of conversation around and asking for more travel stories of them, they don’t say anything.

You wiggle out if his lap and whisper you’ll use the restroom really quick and that he better not dare to run off, and then your reassuring weight is gone and he’s alone at the table but it feels safer than sitting at one of the round tables of a gala, with crystalline flutes of bubbling liquid and stiff jackets all around.

The door to the hallway closes behind you and the guy from before turns to the person next to him, an ugly grin spread on his face, and says something low on his breath. Following a sudden impulse he gets up to head to the reception of the hostel upstairs and doesn’t really hear the spoken words, and part of him doesn’t want to, and another part strains his ears to pick it up nonetheless.

When he comes back the same girl who’d asked before directs another friendly question at him and his attention momentarily slips.

But not for long.

His eyes find the door when you push it open again, and in the same moment he hears the two guys clearly.

“..._______ such a slut.”

At once the anger is back and his fingers flex.

“What?” He says, and it’s louder than anything else he’s said this evening. The others at the table pause in their chat, and he feels eyes on him. “What did you just say?”

The guy glances around and then leans back, fake confidence mixing with real one.

“I said what I said. Cute ass, too.”

“Apologize!”

The guy pulls a face. “Why should I? She isn’t here and it’s not like she didn't have it coming-”

He’s on his feet before he can blink and then there’s a sharp pain on his knuckles and the guy is curling forward, pressing a hand to his mouth and cursing.

Right afterwards the guy rises to his feet, and to his satisfaction Yukhei notes that he’s a couple inches taller than the asshole, a little broader too, even though the other guy looks like he packs more muscle.

“You wanna fuckin’ go?” The guy hisses, red seeping between his teeth and eyes glinting.

“Apologize and we won’t have to.” He growls, hand still clenched.

"Yukhei!"

He hears you exclaim into the awful silence that suddenly fills the dingy space, but the adrenaline is rushing in his veins, his blood loud in his ears.

"Stop it!"

"Do you know what he called you? How he’s talking about you behind your back?"

The fury about someone reducing you to a glimpse, a fraction of who you really are, just based on your shirt slipping a little too low-

As if he isn’t just as bad.

Giving you a once-over upon first seeing you, running a mental checklist of brands you were sporting, how compatible your styles were.

He knows how shallow him and his friends, but especially his mother and father are. And maybe that's why his anger is boiling over now, roiling in his stomach. Because he knows he's no better, because in just a couple of hours spent with you he's lived so much more than in the months preceding this trip alone.

But there's your hand on his elbow, the warm skin of your palm as your fingers weave between his, and even though the asshole is still dabbing at his busted lip, sneering so ugly, he lets you. Lets you tug him away, out between the people staring from their seats, into the weird hallway and up the flight of stairs.

"You really don't care that guy called you that? For no reason, at all?"

He doesn't mean to sound this accusing, this hurt that you rejected his offer to stand up for you. At the top of the stairs you turn back, fingers twitching in their hold on his hand. He looks down into your face when he comes to a rest next to you, rubs his thumb over the back of your hand once.

"Of course I care." You blink, and he worries his eyebrows because he doesn't understand. "I don't like being labelled like that, by assholes like him. But it happens all the time. And even if I would've spoken up about it, which I would have, by the way, that- speaking up should have been enough. I'm not going to fucking deck a guy just because he can't handle me showing as much skin as I want. Worse things have happened."

"But-"

"I appreciate it, you standing up for me. But you don’t have to, I can handle it alone.”

The words of protest are heavy on his tongue but he swallows them down.

“I think we need some fresh air.”

He hears you mumble.

The clouds that move across the expanse of darkness above are the colour of rust.

He’s quiet again, but for a different reason than before.

Now and then he sneaks glances at you, wondering when it would be a good time to open his mouth again.

You lead him, again, around corners and across streets until he’s lost his way for sure and could only find his way back by taking a cab.

Then again, he was sort of lost as soon as you brought him out of the fashion district already, so this isn’t that much of a change.

“Hey, you hungry?” You ask suddenly, stopping in front of a fast food restaurant. “I’m hungry. Let’s go in.”

He doesn’t object.

The cup of ice cream he got with your enthusiastic approval is nice and cool against his bruised knuckles.

Through half a pack of crispy golden fries already he sees you pause, with your gaze locked on his hand.

“It’s not-”

He starts, after you swallow and he practically hears you complain already.

“It doesn’t hurt, don’t worry. I’m sorry- I- I’m not sorry about hitting the guy. He deserved it. I’m sorry he said that about you.”

You close your mouth and take a sip of the drink. Just one shared cup, without a lid or straw, because you said there is enough plastic in the oceans already.

You look away from him, put the cup down and reach for his hand.

He wants to object and pull it away but you glare at him and he doesn’t want to upset you further and so he lets you examine it.

There’s a soft, barely there touch to his raw knuckles and his eyes are darting back in time to see you put the most careful of kisses first to where the skin is sensitive, and then to the back of his hand.

He feels himself calm down. It’s like his entire being is solely focused in this moment in your touch. For just a moment nothing else matters.

You lean back and sigh, not letting go of his hand.

“What am I gonna do with you, hm.”

He hopes it’s a question you don’t intend him to answer, because there are no words coming to his mind.

He holds the door open for you as you exit the 24 hour restaurant. The air here in the city is a little less crisp than out at the bridge, but it’s still fresher than inside. His legs ache, and the soles of his feet burn, reminding him of the amount of walking he’s done trailing after you today and then there’s the flight from the morning and he’s very suddenly very tired.

So much so he stumbles and bumps your shoulder, even.

“Hey, Yukhei? You okay?”

And you look at him again, with your eyes so soft, and his hand clenches around the bandana you got out from who knows where and wrapped around his knuckles as a makeshift bandage.

“Just tired.” He whispers, head filled with the image of your face lit up by the restaurant’s neon signs beside you two and the glow of the streetlights to the other side.

“Maybe that’s a sign to head to bed then.” You grin at him, but despite your words, there’s no flirtatious meaning behind them, no other intention than innocent honesty.

“Would you like to come back to my hotel?” He blurts out, hand curling around your bandana over his palm, feeling the tightness of it and the small pain as it stretches over his skin.

There’s doubt on your face.

“The four seasons? With your parents? I don’t know…”

“We could get a room at another hotel. Without my parents. Just… us.”

And he doesn’t mean anything else than what he just said either and instead he’s silently hoping, wishing, you won’t leave him. Not yet. Not like this.

You smile.

“Are you paying?”

“Of course.”

The smile widens into a grin.

“You’re cute when you make puppy-eyes. Okay fine, I’ll bite. Where are we going?”

“To catch a cab.” He huffs. “My feet are killing me.”

“New shoes,” You whistle and pat his arm affectionately. “Yeah, I’m praying for your feet man.”

The big black expensive wooden door clicks close behind him almost without sound.

He doesn’t care.

It’s not the Four Seasons, it’s the next best thing, but the room he left his card for at the front desk is bigger than the dingy bar at the hostel alone, and his chest warms at the sight of awe on your face.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He hears, and turns from the panorama window overlooking the city to see you resurfacing from the bathroom.

You’re holding on to the door frame and seem to be caught between anger and wonder.

“There's a bathtub the size of a fucking swimming pool in here. The fuck. And-” You lift a hand and he sees a bottle of lotion or shampoo in your grasp. “This shit costs sixty bucks! What the entire hell.”

He grins, and it’s one he settles into easily, one of the million-dollar-smiles that are his trademark.

“Like what you see?” He lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head and put the bottle down, gingerly, as if it isn’t made of plastic and would probably survive a good toss across the room.

The mahogany floating cupboards you pull open reveal a set of bath robes and pyjamas so soft you push your face into the first shirt you pull out, turn to him and shake your head again.

“Wanna take a swim in the bath-pool?” He asks, because he feels the exhaustion with every move, settling deeper into his bones.

You nod and follow him as he crosses the room.

The tub is big, he thinks, but not the biggest he’s seen or even been in. He turns the faucet on and even in here the windows reach from ceiling to floor, allowing glimpses of the streets far below.

You shoo him out to get in first.

The foam is so thick he has to search for your face upon coming back in.

He hears you giggling and then a portion of it moves and there’s your smiling face.

“Come in, it’s amazing.”

He’s reaching for the belt around his robe and you cover your eyes like a child. It feels weird, being allowed such privacy, when all the other girls he’s usually around would eat up any and all chances at seeing him.

He sinks into the foam, on the other end of the tub, because you only agreed to this if he kept his distance and there was no ‘accidental’ touching involved.

He can’t seem to bring himself to mind.

Every other girl he would have met somewhere, in a club or else, and they’d have at least rolled in the sheets once by now. But not you. It feels more thrilling than he could have expected.

“What are you thinking about?” Comes your voice and then a tiny mountain of bubbles gets parted and he’s able to see your face again after sinking into the water.

He shrugs, because that is his go-to answer.

“No thoughts, head empty?” There’s a quirk around your smile like he’s supposed to know what it means but he just nods.

“Tired.” He says, and only after it leaves him does he realize how often he’s said it.

“Are you, really?” You ask, and your voice is softer than before. “Putting what you feel into words is difficult.”

“Yeah, it is.” He agrees, and cups a handful of foam between his palms. “I don’t know. I don’t really need to say what I feel, if I shrug or say that I don’t know, it’s enough for people.”

His eyes glaze over.

“And right now? I mean, you’re tired, but what else is in you?”

“Huh?”

You gesticulate but you're a bit out of focus.

“I, for example, I’m tired too, but also happy because I got to show you the bridge, and I’m in awe at being here, in a hotel room bigger than a house, in a tub with a cute boy I met this afternoon. There’s more, but just, you know?”

He puts an effort into blinking and clearing his eyes, and turns your words over in his head.

“I feel… Tired from travelling, and from my parents wanting me to be like them and going to the fundraiser with them and be seen as their perfect son. I’m… Seeing the bridge was nice. No, not nice, it was… Amazing. It shouldn’t be but it was one of the nicest- most amazing things I’ve ever seen. I liked watching the ocean with you, I felt… Like I could pause and take a breath. This is nice, too. Sharing the tub but not… doing anything.”

He shuts his mouth and it’s strange how light his chest feels suddenly.

“Wow.” It slips out.

Across the foam, you smile at him.

You make him get out of the bath first, cover your eyes again and tell him to leave the room so you can come out, too, but then after you come out looking scrubbed clean and fluffy wrapped in your bathrobe, he goes back in to wash the gel out if his hair and the metaphorical dust of travelling off his skin.

You’re watching the skyline when he re-emerges, smelling like the expensive shampoo and lotion the hotel supplies.

The spaghetti top fits you nicely, he thinks as he approaches, and hugs you from behind.

You stiffen in his hold, just for a moment, and then you relax again, cover his hands with yours.

“It’s so pretty.” A yawn breaks the last word and he chuckles, even though he’s just as tired.

“I know.” He says, but his head is leaned against yours and his eyes are closed.

He wakes to white sheets and the soft golden hues of dawn.

For a moment he doesn't recognize who's in bed with him, hair sprawled over the pillow and half buried under the blanket.

Did he get drunk last night?

But when he reaches back in his memory there's no haze, no blurry images, everything is clear and he remembers everything.

It's you, there with him.

He lifts his head.

It's quiet in the spacious room.

Only the sunlight comes in, and it touches everything into a magical glow.

And among that you sleep soundly, curled around your hands fisted in the sheets, and he leans over to the bedside table, fishes his phone up from there and snaps a picture before he can lose the precious sight.

Then he puts the device away, lays back down and continues watching you, even though his eyes droop once more.

It seems like a dream, everything that went down yesterday, but he is once more reminded that it isn't when he reaches out to brush hair away from your face and sees the bruise on his knuckles, standing out against his skin.

His heartbeat is loud in his ears.

His chest is a bit tight, like his heart is too big for it, and he softly exhales in hopes it might soothe the ache.

He dozes off again, wondering if this is what love feels like.

A hand combing his hair rouses him from slumber, the pad of a finger rubbing his cheek.

He blinks his eyes open and squints at your radiant smile, almost as blinding as the sunlight from before.

"Hey," He rasps, and swallows and clears his throat.

"Hey." You answer, smile impossibly brightening. "Slept well?"

"Mhm, yeah? You?"

You laugh and lean your forehead against his shoulder.

"Yeah. This bed is like a tiny cloud. I feel so refreshed."

"That's good." He smiles and yawns and stretches.

Your fingers touch the smooth expanse of his stomach, revealed as the blanket slips away, and he cracks mid stretch and giggles.

"N-No- Mercy, mercy please! Please!"

The giggles turn into a laugh as you push up into a sitting position and he twists and turns and bats half-heartedly at your hands.

"No." He breathes, trapping your wrists in his palms and pushing himself up as well. "Don't. Bad… Bad human."

Your eyes sparkle again and it's the cutest thing he's seen.

"Okay, okay. I yield."

Satisfied, he lowers your hands.

"Wanna order breakfast?"

"What?" Your eyes widen. "Like, up to this room?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't there like, a buffet downstairs or so?"

"Maybe? I don't know."

He shrugs, and it's the truth. He doesn't feel like he has to pretend he knows everything.

"Let's get washed up and go downstairs. I wanna have a look at all the rich people in their morning attire."

He purses his lips and is about to tell you there's nothing special about that, really, but his thought process gets cut short by your palm on his cheek and your lips pressing a soft smooch to the other.

He's left gaping while you hop off the bed and vanish in the bathroom, and only after the lock clicks into place does he feel his entire face burn, cheeks tingling with the ghost of your touch.

He brings his own hand to the spot your lips were in just moments prior and is absolutely powerless against the big, flustered grin spreading on his face.

He gets up and out of bed, stretching once more and feeling as good in his skin as he hasn't for a while now, and just unlocked his phone to check for messages when the lock clicks across the room and the door opens.

"We didn't order-"

The words die in his throat at the two figures waltzing in, not even bothering to close the door behind them.

"What did you think you were doing, young man?!"

His mother's words drip venom that could have left black burned holes in the plush carpet under her steps.

At once his shell is back, the hardened surface that had peeled back in your presence.

"Taking money out of your account, eating at a… At a fast food restaurant? Are you out of your mind?"

"You know I usually think you should be allowed your freedom but I'm agreeing with your mother here." His father helpfully supplies, hands behind his back from where he wandered over to the window.

"So what if I do with my money what I want? It's not like it matters to you?"

"That's enough. Get dressed, we're going back to our hotel. Gods help us none of the-"

"No." He says, and feels something welling up inside him.

His mother pauses, glaring at him.

"-Nobody saw you out, that would be such an unnecessary-"

"I said no."

His volume increases alongside his anger at being ignored and talked over.

"Lucas, pull yourself together. Why you would book another hotel room when you have one next to ours is useless spending, not to mention-"

A door opens behind him and he turns. His stomach hits the floor between his feet.

He forgot about you, hidden in the bathroom.

You're carefully closing the door behind you but pause when you realize all eyes are on you and the conversation stopped.

"Good morning." You dip your head slightly, eyes flicking from them to him.

"Lucas, what is that."

His mother asks, not turning her eyes away from you, and you're obviously left speechless at such blatant rudeness thrust in your face this early in the day so you keep quiet.

"This is my friend, mother."

His tone is freezing as he crosses the space separating you and takes a hold of your hand. "Not that it concerns you."

"Lucas," His father speaks up, hands outstretched in front of him. "You know we don't mind you socializing, but someone like that…?"

He obviously means the messy bun you put your hair in, the simple - cheap - outfit with the worn flannel around your hips.

Nobody of their standing would be caught dead like this.

He bristles under the comments, his chest filling with a prickling rage, but then you squeeze his hand and he looks down into your wide eyes and the half hidden panic in them.

"I'll go now. Thank you for everything, Yukhei."

You slip away from him and give his parents the widest berth you can manage before picking up your shoes and taking your jacket off its place by the door.

"No, wait-"

He hasn't asked you for your number yet, or Snapchat, or Instagram or anything; it feels like you're slipping through his fingers and he knows if he doesn't get you to stay, somehow, you'll be gone in a heartbeat and he'll never get you back.

Cinderella running as soon as the clock strikes midnight, but unlike her prince, he doesn't even have a shoe that would allow him to find you again.

"Lucas-" His mother warns him, but with a hate-filled look he's out the door, heart hammering away in his chest at the prospect of losing you.

Losing soft, warm, you, with your slow words and your camera and your view of the world that's so different from his.

He manages to wrench a hand between the doors of the elevator just before it closes and he's panting and high strum when the metal slides back and allows him in.

"Yukhei? What-"

He turns and sees his parents come out the door, and hurries to press the 'close doors' button even though neither of them would do as he did and sprint to catch them.

As soon as the cabin moves, he turns to you, hands feeling jittery and out of breath.

"Can I have your number? Or social media, or address or… anything? Anything I can reach you with?"

"Yukhei…" Your eyes are still wide as you look away from his face.

"Please." He swallows and tries to calm his erratic breathing. "Please, you're- You're the fucking best thing that's happened to me in months, months, okay, I don't- I don't want to lose you, I want to, I want for us to have breakfast together and do stupid tourist shit together and I just want more time with you, please…"

The doors open and reveal the first floor, and the presence of an elderly couple shuts him up momentarily.

They get on and upon seeing the button for the ground level lit up already settle against the opposite wall.

He catches your eyes again.

"Please."

He whispers.

"Boys like you aren't good for girls like me, Yukhei." You tell him, cupping one of your hands over his cheek, and with a sadness on your face that installs more fear in him than his parents showing up unannounced.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and wraps his own fingers around your wrist.

The doors open again and reveal the lobby, and everyone gets off.

"I mean…" You sigh and look around, at the brown suitcases with golden letter print, at the names flashing from every purse, shades or shoes. "I mean, boys like you... Don't spend much time or thought on girls like me. We don't mix and match. We're too different. Boys like you… Lose interest in girls like me once they get what they want."

He knows you're right and he hates it.

He wants to say something, anything, but his tongue weighs too heavy and you look like you know your words are true to the bone.

"And, your parents…" You lift your eyebrows and tilt your head, having said enough.

He feels powerless and he hates it, but unlike with his parents he can't act up, he can't step out of line, he can't risk a slap or punch in exchange for a brief moment of exhilarating freedom. Because you are freedom in the shape of a person already, and he is at a loss at what to do.

"Let me prove you wrong."

A plead. He knows your time together is running out and he knows he's grasping at straws but he's desperate.

"I appreciate that."

A beat of hope in his chest.

"But you don't have to, really. You have nothing to prove to me, Yukhei."

"Lucas!"

He freezes at the shout, the voice of his mother reaching out of the elevator.

"It was so nice getting to know you."

"No- No-!"

And you're slipping from his hands, are gone faster than he can gather his thoughts and defreeze his tongue and all that's left of you is one more kiss, quick and fleeting, pressed to his other cheek and then you're skipping to the exit, look back once you reach the door, with a smile on your face.

His mother's hand takes a hold of his elbow like a claw wrapping around prey, the rings on her fingers pressing into his skin, and her voice is talking but he doesn't hear.

He still feels your soft lips on his cheeks, the ghost of your fingers between his, and it's so little contact to what he's used to from the girl's he's usually around, and yet it feels like it meant so, so much more.

He closes his eyes and hangs his head and mentally shuts off to let the words spoken at him roll off his skin without allowing them in.

It's late and the sky is dark and he's locked in his room while his parents are out on the second evening of the event.

The screen of his phone lights up and he turns his head to check, not really interested in whatever is happening. His attention spikes when he reads the Snapchat notification that he's just been added as a friend.

Turning on his side he pulls up the new chat, and there are the little dots that indicate the other person is writing.

-Yukhei what the ruck!!!

-*f

A smile finds the corners of his lips, the first one since the more than harsh awakening this morning.

>found my gift? ;)

-what the fuck! i can't accept this??

>no take backs. get something nice and pretend like it's a souvenir from me

At least that way you could have something to remind you of him. If you want that.

-that's so much koney tho??? are u sure?

-*money ruck

-*FUCK

>don't worry about it. i owed you, you know. consider it paid back, with interest

Your bitmoji drops down and it seems like you're considering what to do next. It feels good, to know you received the envelope he left at the front desk in the spur of the moment, his Snapchat handle scrawled on it alongside a short “Please add me when you get this :)”

Then…

-did u get in trouble? bc of me?

>nah

>my parents caught me doing worse

He pauses and bites on his lip, weighting pro against con of telling you.

-do i want to know??

>hosted a party and couple of my friends had an orgy in my parent's bedroom. they came back early and…

-holy fucking shit what the fuck

He opens the camera and snaps a selfie, pouting and adding a text about being grounded for the remainder of this trip.

He holds his breath in anticipation until the little pink square next to your name fills out and he can click on it.

It's a close-up of your face, from an incredibly unflattering angle, and you're clearly not shredding an ounce of sympathy for him.

No text is added.

He sends another pouting selfie, zoomed in as well and lays on the puppy eyes thick.

The next image is half your face hidden under your blanket, with the word "no" taking up much of the screen.

He swipes into the main menu and then further to the friend page, clicking on your story.

What unfurls before his eyes is a miniature movie, single pictures taken all over the city and pieced together with selfies and you talking to yourself.

At once his heart beats a little faster.

His screen lights up, months later, and still his heart won't beat normal.

That morning a letter arrived for him - a letter, for him, in a battered envelope with an entirely foreign stamp and his name proudly on it.

It's from you.

In it he found copies of the pictures you took of him in front of the bridge, the light and dark touching his face.

And then the tiny polaroid he had asked you to take two times, one for you and one for him, and then hadn't gotten the chance to take it with him.

He'd snapped a selfie of the letter and him and sent it to you before opening it, and now he's blinking to keep the tears from spilling over.

Wong Yukhei does not cry, especially not at something like this. And yet…

But instead of an answer snap to your “omg u got mail!!” he opens the screen to a video call, and hurries to brush his eyes dry and fails when the connection stabilizes and he can see you.

It's a different time of day for you, and your hair has grown and changed, too, but the smile that's on his screen is still the same, radiant one as before.

"You got my letter!"

You exclaim, and even though it's a bit warbled and the rendering is a bit blocky, he feels your excitement.

"I did."

"Was beginning to think it got lost in the mail. Do you like the pictures? I put the polaroid in as well, did you-"

"Yeah," He smiles, and the word comes out rasped. "Yeah I- I got everything. Thank you."

You smile again.

It's so nice to see you again.

The words spill out before he can hold them back.

"So, hey," He brings up, an hour later just before you have to end the call. "I'll be flying out next month, to- Maybe we can-"

The grin on your face impossibly widens.

"You serious? My town? When?"

"Uh-" He has to minimize snapchat to pull up his calendar to tell you the exact date.

"You wanna meet up? Get to know my city?"

Warmth explodes in his chest, showing in a barely contained smile of his own.

"Yeah! Yeah that… I'd love that. More walking for me."

You laugh and then both of you fall quiet, content watching the other for a moment.

"I'm happy." You tell him. "I'm really happy I'll get to hug you properly. This-" You gesticulate towards the phone screen. "-isn't really holding up well."

“I’m looking forward to it, too.”

He drops his head on his pillow and smiles.

notes: i hope you liked it :) comments/reblogs make my day, so if you send an ask or just say a few nice words, i’d love that ^-^

you can also find all my other writing on Ao3 - runningfaucet is my @ there

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igotyouniverse · 4 years

Text

Breathe Me - Chapter 1 [nct vamp au]

Description: After dropping out of college and coming home for the first time in two years, 22-year-old Ava Lee gets caught up in a mystery surrounding the people she thought she knew for so long. Between friendship, affairs and true love the young women finds herself being pulled into a nightmare she would never wake up from.

Pairing: Oc x Taeyong , Oc x Johnny [several side-pairing involving Mark, Ten, Lucas and Jaehyun.]

Included Members: Taeyong, Johnny, Mark, Lucas, Ten, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Haechan (maybe more)

Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Action, Fantasy

Warnings: none (this chapter)

suggestive content, strong language, violence, blood, death. probably more, not sure yet (later chapters)

a/n: Here it comes! After years of procrestination I finally managed to write the very first (very boring) chapter of my vampire au with nct! Anyway, the main drama will start in the next chapter so stay patient and bear this one with me. It took me long enough, haha. All the warnings will be for later chapters so don't start reading if u dont feel like reading stuff like that qq If someone wants to get tagged please send me a message, ask, comment or whatever qq

I really hope you guys enjoy it, it was a very heavy birth. ♥

ch.2 || ch. 3

†

The girl sighed deeply and took a look outside the small airplane window. She saw how the plane slowly drove into the prepared parking lot and felt how her level of anxiety rose with each second. Even though the flight was 18 hours long and her legs started to hurt she didn't want to stand up. Standing up meant for her to actually leave the plane, get her luggage and meet her family which would sooner or later lead to them asking all these questions. It wasn't like she didn't miss them.

She missed them very dearly. She missed the Sunday morning brunches with her neighbours, the movie nights where her dad would always pick out a movie because he'd pout if not, she even missed her little brother Mark bursting into her room without knocking and asking her some totally stupid questions. She missed catching up with her best friend. She missed all these sleepovers when all they had to worry about was who the cutest boy at school was and what they'll do together once they were adults. She craved for all these past memories. The last time she set foot onto this ground was two years ago at her very first spring break after leaving home, moving to a town thousand of miles away, not knowing anyone.

She heard a beeping noise which indicated that the passengers could stand up and get out but she waited. All of them seemed in such a hurry to leave the plane, grabbing their belongings, everyone trying to get out first which ended in a crowded queue inside of the plane. She stretched her legs as much as possible, not making the slightest move to stand up.

Her eyes wandered back to the window, allowing her to take a glance at the sky, she wished to be into again. It was still quite bright outside, even though it was nearly evening, the sun nearly blinding her when she looked up, leading her to cover her eyes with her hand. The sunsets were so different in the States than here, in South Korea. Her eyes tried to focus on the slowly fading sun, leaving the sky in beautiful pinks and oranges with just a hint of soft white clouds.

Her mind started to spin, thinking about all the things she had to explain to her family sooner or later. But for now she needed to stay positive and hide the fact that she – the oh-so-perfect – student managed to drop out of a university, her parents nearly went insolvent to pay for to allow their daughter to get the best medical education they could think of. At the beginning the girl actually thought that it was her biggest dream to become a famous surgeon but after a short while she had to face the ugly truth that the job she so desperately wanted to do as long as she could remember just wasn't her thing.

She tried so badly to keep on and thought that it's just a phase every young adult went through when they started university but every time she talked to her friends at university she saw that that wasn't exactly the case. Everyone was so focused and motivated to become a successful doctor or surgeon they underwent the torture of endless sleepless nights, insane pressure and the feeling of not being able to even cut an onion correctly, which the professor didn't even care to make better. Every day she got told that she would never be able to work in the medical field and could try herself with some more basic and easy studies. It didn't matter how hard she tried to remember all the lectures and do her assignments – she failed miserably at everything.

Of course, her family didn't know. She was way too afraid to burst the bubble her parents created around her, leaving her in that perfect, white spotlight, portraying her like some sort of angel on a pedestal for everyone to see. They loved to talk about her in front of everyone, telling them that she'd be a successful surgeon, working hard and publishing groundbreaking articles, making herself a name in the medical community. Maybe even getting some famous award. Everyone in that small town knew about the smart daughter who got into one of the best medical universities in the United States, who worked so hard she was barely home.

She couldn't bear to see the disappointment on their faces once they see what she really was – a failure. She managed to hide her dropping out of university so well, she created her web of lies carefully over the last year, she sometimes even believed what she was saying. But as soon as her alarm clock went off, remembering her to go to work at a small corner café to pay her rent and even save some money in case her parents might throw her out, she had to face real life again. The life in which she dropped out only one year after starting, loosing hundreds of thousands of dollars and leaving the incident in her resume forever.

She was glad she got a job in the café as it belonged to the parents of one friend she met at college, who managed to get in because of a scholarship. They allowed her to work as much as she could to save money and even helped her sometimes.

“Excuse me, Miss?”, a soft and gentle voice made the girl leave her deep thoughts and look up. A beautiful, young flight attendant smiled down at her. “You need to leave the plane, please.”, she said in sweet yet demanding voice and got her luggage out of the cabinet above for her. The girl didn't realise that the plane was already as good as empty. She thanked the attendant, grabbed her bag and went out of the plane into the airport, feeling her legs shaking more with each step she took.

She pulled out her smartphone, turning off flight mode only to get bombarded with dozens of messages, mostly from her mom asking if she already landed and that they waited for her at the gate. After that she only texted emojis. Hearts, heart-eyes and some other stuff which made her feel even more anxious. How could she disappoint a mother as proud as her? No, she needed to keep her secret for a bit longer. Maybe until her brother messed up. But what could he possibly mess up which would overshadow her dropping out of college? Maybe if he committed a crime.

Mark was different from her, She didn't know how but he actually managed to tell their parents that he doesn't want to become a doctor or lawyer, and instead insisted of becoming an author or journalist. To say her parents were unhappy would be an understatement. They were more than angry and told him to pay the tuition himself. They believed it was just a small teenage dream he had but when he finished High School and started working at the local bookstore to save some money to actually study creative writing they realized that he was serious. That small incident happened just 14 months ago, yet he continued to work there and save up. He even managed to visit her every couple of months, as she didn't want to come.

When she arrived at the luggage claim the suitcases were already out on the baggage belt and she waited as long as she could, watching her lonely suitcase making its turns on the device, purposely ignoring it until it was the only one left and she had to grab it. Her phone vibrated in her pocket again.

Mark [06.07pm]: Where r u?

She rolled her eyes and just put it back in the pocket of her jeans as she headed towards the exit. The girl took a deep breath, putting on the brightest smile she could manage and stepped out of the doors. Her family wasn't hard to notice. Her parents held a way too big and bright banner in their hands

WELCOME HOME AVA

Ava tried to keep her smile up and waved at them. “Oh, honey welcome home!”, her mother shouted as she lowered the banner to hug her daughter tightly. “I'm so happy you're finally home again, our doctor!.”, she said and patted her back softly. She felt her dad joining the hug and giving her a warm smile as well, joining her mother in telling her how happy he was to have her back home. Ava clenched her jaw, trying to smile as honest as possible.

“You're really squishing me to death guys.”, Ava chuckled and was glad when her parents finally let go of her. She looked up and saw her brother Mark smiling at her.

“Come on, give your favourite sister a hug.”, the girl laughed, making her brother chuckle before embracing her in a loving hug as well. The last time she saw him he visited the campus a few months ago. Of course he didn't know she dropped out then and nearly choked on his water when she told him. She knew he wouldn't tell their parents but he thought it would be better if she told their parents as soon as possible, which she didn't of course.

“Happy to have you back.”, Mark said and squeezed his sister one more time before he let her go and took her suitcase.

Ava stretched her body slowly before getting into their car, really not wanting to sit down for another hour but apparently she had to. As soon as she sat down and put on her seat belt her mother turned around to look at her and smiled.

“Tell us, honey, how is Stanford? Is it going well, yes?”, she asked and Ava felt like she needed to throw up.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I handed in all assignments last week and I have a good feeling.”, she chuckled and felt guilt crawling all over her body. She smiled slightly and turned her eyes away to avoid her mother proud gaze, yet she could feel Mark eyeing her.

“Ah, that's so great, honey. Your father and I just talked to the Lee's from across the street and they told us their son wants to apply to Stanford, too. We told them you could talk to him and give some advice.”

“Sure.”, she just sighed and pulled out her phone again, hoping her mother would understand her silent plead to leave her be. Her mother smiled again and turned back to talk to her father about what she'd make for dinner on this special occasion.

Ava checked the other texts she got, scrolling through them. She smiled when she saw a text from her best friend, sending her a picture from her in her nurse uniform. She looked so cute, proudly standing in front of the mirror in the dressing room, posing with a finger heart.

[Ava 06.54pm] Cute! Just landed, on my way home. Wanna hang out later?

[Yunmi 06.57pm] Can't. Night shift today but pick me up tomorrow morning and get breakfast? The café next to the bookstore finally opened!

[Ava 07.00pm] absolutely! Can't wait. Miss you so much ♥

She scrolled through the remaining texts just to feel a little disappointment in her body after not seeing what she so desperately wanted to see. But then again, she didn't expect to see a text from him after he ignored each and everyone of hers the last two years. He didn't even care enough to wish her a happy birthday in November so he probably couldn't care less texting her when she came home.

She sighed lightly and looked outside the car window, seeing how the landscape came and go in front of her eyes and how the sky got all these beautiful colours in it, she could even see the moon already. A wave of tiredness crashed over her exhausted body as she decided to close her eyes for just a moment.

The girl felt someone poking her arm multiple times, calling her name.

“Wake up, we're home.”, she heard Mark say and groaned, before rubbing her eyes.

“Yes, I'm awake, you can stop poking me.”, she said when her brother continued to poke her arm with a grin on his face.

“Don't make me hit you.”, she warned and slapped his hand away.

“Pff, please.” he answered mockingly and jumped out of the car before her fist could reached his body.

Ava chuckled , getting out of the car stretching her stiff body slowly, hearing all her joints crack at once.

“How old are you? 80?” Mark said teasingly, getting out her suitcase from the trunk.

“Trust me, I feel like it.”, she yawned loudly and slowly got up the stairs to their house.

She inhaled the sweet and calming scent of her mothers vanilla candles as soon as she set foot into the house, taking of her shoes before she walked further inside. It hasn't changed a bit. The beige coloured walls still had pictures of the family on them. Ava smiled and looked at the picture of her and her family from her Highschool graduation three years ago. She smiled when she saw the exact picture her parents had chosen. Mark and her making some weird pose while her parents rolled their eyes.

“Honey, dinner will be ready in half-an-hour, okay?” she didn't realize that her mother was standing right next to her and flinched a bit.

“Yeah, sure, thank you, mom. I'll start to unpack then. Love you.”, Ava said, kissing her mothers cheek softly before going up the stairs into her old room where Mark already put her suitcase and bag.

Her room hasn't changed either. Of course, it looked a bit colder as she took all her personal stuff with her to the US when she moved out, but it still felt comfy with it's cozy beige sofa and her queen sized bed, which her mother already prepared for her. She closed the door behind her and looked outside the big windows, which connected to a small balcony, which was only hers. She remembered how mad Mark was when she got the room with the balcony and not him and grinned. She stepped outside for a moment to breathe in the still warm air, listening to the rustling sound of the trees as a mild breeze blew through them.

The small wooden bench she made herself with her dad back when she was younger still stood in the very same corner and even had pillows on it and a blanket, indicating that someone still used it even while she was gone. Probably her mother when she wanted to have some time and space for herself, she thought and smiled before going back into her room.

She stretched her stiff body once again before squatting down and opening her black suitcase to unpack her things. Ava only brought some clothes and other necessities with her as she didn't believe of staying home for a longer period of time. She rented her tiny apartment, or as she preferred to call it, her shoebox to a friend from university who looked for her own place as long as she stayed with her parents so she didn't need to worry about paying rent. So she just packed her essentials and hoped to keep her pretty little lie for some more months to figure out what she actually wanted to do with her situation now. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to stay in Stanford . She just knew, she didn't want to stay here in this tiny town where everyone knows everyone.

She loved the size of New York, she loved the vibes, the people and even the stink it had. It was charming in some kind of way and she enjoyed the anonymity she had. She liked living in the famous city which never sleeps but it didn't feel like a complete home to her yet and maybe never would. Not to mention, that she was just working in a café which was barely enough to live so she needed to get something more permanent very soon. But she had no idea what that could be. Maybe she'd apply to another university, maybe she didn't want to go to college at all. But what were her options anyway?

Ava groaned, throwing a stack of clothes into her closet in frustration, before squatting down again to fold them neatly. She felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jeans and sighed when she saw the name of the person who messaged her blinking in front of her. She opened it and thought about her answer for several minutes before she decided to ignore it for the moment and maybe get back to it later, unsure about her wanting to meet the sender or not.

She furrowed her eyes as she looked at the clock hanging at one of her walls, showing that it was way later than she expected and her mother still hadn't called for dinner yet. She put the last of her belongings in the connected bathroom she shared with her brother and checked her phone to make sure she didn't receive a text from him telling her dinner is ready. Ava didn't realize how hungry she was until she thought about the dishes her mother was probably busy making and her mouth started to water. She really missed good Korean food. There were quite some Korean restaurants in New York but of course nothing tasted as good as her mother's home cooked meals.

Just as she wanted to open her door and check downstairs she heard her mother shout from the kitchen that dinner was finally ready. She opened her door and could already smell the kimchi and meat her mother apparently made and couldn't wait to finally taste it.

“Coming! I'm getting Mark”, Ava shouted back and wanted to knock on Marks door, telling him to come down but the boy who opened the door wasn't her brother.

“Oh, hey Ava. Haven't seen you in forever. How are you?”, Johnny asked, seemingly surprised but a small smile appeared on his pretty face.

He hasn't changed a tiny bit. He still looked as gorgeous as three years ago when she left and never heard of him again. His hair was still black but a tad longer than before. It framed the contours of his face just perfectly which made it hard for her to look away and think about how she was mad at him for ignoring her for the past years, even though the last thing she remembered with him was actually something very nice. Or that's at least what she thought it was. Apparently he thought differently and had to treat her like air. Not even daring to step a foot in their house when she came home for spring break once.

“Umm, fine. Are you staying for dinner?”, she asked, trying to sound as calm as possible but she couldn't hide a tint of anger in her voice, yet the anger mixed up with other feelings she was way too bad at hiding.

“Yeah, I invited him. He basically lives here anyway.”, she heard Mark say behind Johnny who didn't seem to sense her displeasure over his invitation. Why do they have to be best friends? She asked herself and secretly hoped for Johnny to disappear or something. But of course that wouldnÄt happen.

“Please, the food gets cold, come down.”, she heard her mother saying from the foot of the stairs with her hands stemmed in her hips, still wearing her red-dotted apron.

“Actually, I'm not hungry.”, Ava said taking a step away from Johnny as his simple presence made her legs feel stupidly weak.

Her statement got quite unbelievable when her stomach started to growl from the heavenly scent of her mother's food.

“Doesn't sound like it.”, Mark said and raised his brow looking at his sister questionably.

“I'm really not hungry and I'm meeting a friend. Can we postpone our family dinner to another time?”, she said while purposely emphasising the term family to show her displeasure about the clearly unwanted guest guest.

Before her mother could answer something Ava ran down the stairs, giving her mother another short kiss before running outside, leaving her house behind.

She took a deep breath before letting out some vulgar curses towards the situation and especially the person causing her to still feel all these things.

Ava pulled out her phone and messaged the only person she could think of, who might get her thoughts somewhere else, even if she might regret it in the morning.

masterlist

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choupichoups · 5 years

Photo

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Epilogue

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

Okay so this is the end end, thank you again for reading!!

Lucas turns over, free arm carelessly swiping up the empty space beside him. Warm fingers drum a loose tune over cold sheets, long unoccupied despite the fact that it’s only nine in the morning. So Eliott did manage to drag his ass up for his photoshoot despite all the pouting and complaining from last night.

With a jaw cracking yawn, he pushes himself off their giant, comfy bed, landing on the floor with a soft thump. He conjures up whatever self restraint he’s gathered over the years to keep from nose diving back into the warm sheets. Eliott had left the curtains drawn over the windows, leaving their room bathed in burnt orange light, the air conditioning humming soft whirs of cool air. It’s the perfect recipe for a morning spent lounging in bed doing nothing.

But alas, he pulls his big boy pants up and drags his feet to the bathroom to follow his boyfriend’s itinerary for the day.

srodulv We’ll be at the west beach behind the big cliff i showed you yesterday Whenever your highness deems it fit to join us Lol nvm we’re inside a cave now Aaand we moved Right at the path when you head down Can’t miss me and my handsome face on a plank

lucallemant why is ur face on a plank less texting more posing

srodulv Being the breadwinnner in this relationship is really a thankless job huh

lucallemant where’s the bread tho???

srodulv THANKLESS

“Lucas, hey!”

He stumbles past the pathetic lumps of sand from where he and Eliott had attempted a friendly little sand castle competition a few days ago, clumsy on his feet as he holds himself back from rushing towards them.

“Morning, Jo,” he greets the photographer first before raising both eyebrows at Eliott, who does, in fact, look perfectly handsome lounging on his plank. As if the sand isn’t digging into the skin of his elbows. As if the sun isn’t beating directly over their heads. Ugh, an abomination.

“Oh hi, Eliott, good morning Eliott!” Eliott says in a mockingly high pitched tone when Lucas fails to say anything else. “How are you doing, Eliott?” he continues in that same annoying voice, prompting Lucas to kick up some sand his way. “I missed you, boyfriend, you’re working so hard, my dear!”

“Ew, shut up.” Lucas laughs, moving to sit beside Eliott when Jo pauses his snapping to adjust some settings on his camera. Despite all the teasing, however, Lucas presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and throws both legs over one of Eliott’s thighs, hands instinctively searching to intertwine their fingers. “Morning,” he murmurs into the space between their lips, chest fluttering when Eliott brushes their noses together, whipped as the first time.

“Good sleep?” Eliott mutters back, smile melting sweeter when Lucas drops his head on his shoulder with a nod. “We’re almost done here and then we have the rest of the week to ourselves, okay?”

“Okay.” Lucas plays with their tangled hands, fingers stroking light across the back of Eliott’s palms. He almost forgets what they’re actually talking about had it not been for the loud click of a camera shutter coming from his right.

Jo is looking down at his camera when Lucas finally forces himself away from the very optimal cuddle he and Eliott had going on. “You sure you don’t wanna do a joint photoshoot, Lucas?” Jo turns the camera around to show him the photo he’d just taken. “You guys look really good together, it’d be a hit!”

Yeah, no. Lucas snorts, “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Jo tuts, “Don’t be like that, this one looks good.”

“Lucky shot, trust me. My face does weird things in front of cameras most of the time,” he prattles out excuses, eyes narrowing when Eliott remains silent as he watches the exchange, laughter clear in his eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be taking a walk while you boys do your thing, alright, don’t have too much fun, drink water often, and I’ll see you,” he clicks his tongue, points to where Eliott is seated, eyes locked on Lucas ever since he arrived, “later. Bye!”

And he runs off before Jo could convince him to join the shoot. Lucas really isn’t about that life, the amount of followers he’s garnered only from the fact that he’s dating Eliott is already stressing him out as it is. He can’t imagine what a legitimate photoshoot together would do.

Making his way towards the beach, Lucas slips off his sandals and walks along the path where the waves hit the sand, relishing in the ticklish feel of sand shifting underneath his feet at every pull. His toes curl into the soft surface, wiggling at the cool touch of clear waters before the waves pull back into the ocean.

It’s nice out here. Lucas had been mighty skeptical when Eliott had mentioned it off-handedly during the giant final party of the school year. Granted, both of them had been pretty drunk at that point and Lucas wasn’t sure whether he was hearing things or if Eliott had really just asked him to go on a two week vacation in South Africa. Like Lucas doesn’t only have two whole dollars in his savings account.

It’s free, Eliott had cleared up once sober, chuckling at the dubious look on Lucas’ face. My friend wants a shoot there and he’s letting us stay at their private condo as payment.

Wow, bourgeoisie, and then Lucas proceeded to forget about it in the midst of tear inducing exams.

He digs out his phone and snaps a photo of the sun hitting the ocean’s surface with a pretty gleam. His mom would appreciate the view, maybe it would encourage her to take her own vacation somewhere too. She deserves a few weeks away from the city— maybe a trip with her friends would be nice, maybe with that nice guy she’s trying to pass off as just her friend whenever Lucas visits would be good too.

Lucas digs his heels in the sand and turns to face the ocean, rolling his sweatpants up to his calves as he steps deeper into the water.

Eliott’s graduated. He’d done a placement at a studio during his final year and they refused to get rid of him (Lucas can relate), add to that Eliott’s side film projects and this whole internet famous slash instagram model thing and Eliott’s suddenly found himself a lot more occupied that initially expected.

Lucas has quite a bit of catching up to do. Fuck, he’s not even employed anywhere. He’d left his job at the cafe during that unsavoury mess a year prior and his workload from school picked up at an abhorrent pace. The only reason he’s functioning as a semi normal human being right now is because Eliott has made it his mission to stop him from eating any more of Yann’s cheese bread and his mother has been helping him with rent.

He stomps his feet into the water, pouting as it earns him a very unsatisfying splash. And then his feet are suddenly off the ground, legs flailing on instinct as he’s grabbed from behind by an obnoxious, giggling giant—

“Eliott!” he screeches, two seconds before he’s unceremoniously dumped deeper into the water. Sputtering, he stands back up with as much dignity as he can gather and jumps onto Eliott’s back with a holler of curses, trying to keep his own head above water when Eliott’s knees buckle under the attack, laughter helpless as he clutches onto Lucas in their half-hearted tussle.

They roll around half in and half out the waves, laughter unbridled like giddy little children on a high. Careful steps on the sand turn to careless treading in the deeper waters, drenched clothes stuck on warm skin and playful fingers threaded in ocean darkened locks. Lucas breathes out a chuckle in the tiny space between them, foreheads aligning perfectly when he hauls himself up, arms wrapped tightly around Eliott’s shoulders for balance. This close, Eliott’s smile is more radiant than the sun reflecting diamonds in the water and Lucas can’t look away, not when the oncoming wave roars closer, not when Eliott whispers something reverent that steals the breath right out of his lungs.

"Eliott,” Lucas starts, blinking salt water off of his eyelashes. “Eliott, I—”

And then the waves claim them with an unmerciful smack, the force of it brings the two boys back to shore and they resurface with a sputter, their moment chased away by a newly triggered round of laughter.

“Oh shit.” Lucas squints as something dawns on him. “Fuck, Eliott!” He removes his soaked shirt and uses it to smack Eliott’s arm.

“Ow! What?”

“My shoes! I dropped them!”

“Oh. Oh, crap. I’ll buy— hey stop— stop that! I’ll buy you new ones at the market!”

The evening market is absolutely bustling with tourists. It seems like everyone had the same idea of whiling away the heat at the beach and whiling away at the shops once the sun starts to set.

“Lucas, come here! Look.”

Lucas follows the direction where Eliott’s voice is coming from, finding his boyfriend laden with all kinds of trinkets around the neck, around both wrists, and around most of his fingers. He’s such a fool. Lucas loves him so much.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna buy all of that.”

Eliott allows himself an offended look before remembering his excitement. “Course not, but look at this!” He stretches a hand and shows Lucas a handmade, wooden carving of a woman sitting on a piano bench with a dog beside her. “Wouldn’t this be perfect for your mom?”

Did Lucas say he loves him already?

“Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing the hand holding the figurine before letting go and looking around the stalls himself. He’s done a bit of shopping for their friends already (he’s not actually going to get them only rocks and sand, thank you very much), all he needs now is for some help getting things for Eliott’s parents. “Hey, do you think you dad will like—” He turns around, holding up a trinket, only to find Eliott already off to the stalls on the far right. Oh well, at least he looks like he’s in the process of returning everything he’s got draped all over him.

They don’t take very long to run into each other again once they’ve done their rounds, and Eliott beams like they haven’t seen each other in days, grabbing Lucas by the wrist with an enthusiastic, “All good to go?” And even if he wasn’t, Lucas would’ve followed him either way.

Speaking of, they’re not headed to where they parked their rental car.

“Where are we going?” Lucas asks, sneaking a glance around them to see if he can pinpoint familiar places. They haven’t done much exploring for the past week, preferring to laze around the beach area whenever Eliott wasn’t busy with photoshoots, but he imagines Eliott has been around more than him if Jo wanted some changes in scenery.

And because Eliott is Eliott, he doesn’t utter a word until they’ve passed a small bridge that leads to what looks like a dead end of shrubbery.

But Lucas knows better by now.

They squeeze through the thick shrubs, pushing branches and leaves aside until they reach a wide clearing. “Tada...” Eliott whispers, as if the sound of his normal volume would disrupt the scene.

And what a scene it was. A quaint circular area with boulders piled about, a large, ancient tree with drooping arms perfectly frames the view as if planted there years ago to fulfill this present purpose. The waves crash softly against the rocks, forcing pale, wet sand to shift with uneven dips. Over the horizon, blinding in its beauty, perches a moon so clear and bright Lucas would be hard pressed to believe it’s real if he weren’t standing right here.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles, shaking excess leaves off his feet as he makes his way forward, entranced. “Holy shit,” he repeats with feeling.

“Yup, holy shit.” Eliott breathes out his laughter, shoulders shrugging up in that endearing way of his. “Thought you’d appreciate this.”

Lucas makes his way to the edge where water and sand meet, bending to pick up a shiny stone reflecting moonlight off its surface. He hears Eliott coming up behind him but doesn’t expect the hand that steals the stone from his grip and Lucas huffs, indulging in his boyfriend’s amusement for a few minutes and jumping up to try and steal it back from Eliott’s raised fist.

“Eli, come on, give it.” He tries for another jump, but Eliott brings his hands behind his back, putting the stone out of sight. “Eliott!” Lucas whines, shaking the plastic bag of trinkets he’s got hanging around one wrist. Eliott has the gall to laugh at his suffering. “Give it.” Lucas holds out his free hand, tapping his feet on the sandy ground. “Now.”

Eliott raises an eyebrow in turn, smile adorable despite its mischief as he holds out both hands in closed fists. “Okay, choose a hand then.”

Lucas’ groan is long suffering.

But unfortunately, undeniably fond.

“What is this now?” Lucas eyes him suspiciously, trying to figure out what Eliott has up in his sleeve this time.

“What’s what?” Eliott tries for innocent.

“Did you learn some kind of magic trick, is that it?” Lucas grins, looking between the two hands in front of him.

“I don’t know, did I?” Eliott’s eye crinkles when he smiles. It’s infuriating.

“Omygod, you’re literally impossible. This better be a good trick, Demaury.” He slaps a hand over Eliott’s left fist, digging in between his fingers to try and pry them open. Eliott gives in too easily, lifting his fingers open without a struggle, so Lucas expects it to turn up empty.

Except.

Except—

“Is this good enough for you?” His voice is a whisper, quiet enough to get carried away by a strong wind.

Lucas stares at the hand, mouth gaping dumbly. “That’s a ring.” He hears a chuckle, and then Eliott’s other hand is opening to reveal a matching pair. “That’s two rings,” he says, a necessary and intelligent contribution.

“I know you’re nervous about what’s going to happen.” Eliott starts, “with my graduation, and work, and all that stuff.”

“I’m not—”

“Lucas, please, you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Lucas shuts his mouth, looks down at the rings again as if they hold the answers to all his doubts. And maybe, maybe they do. Hold them. Some of them, at least.

“Nobody likes change, you know. I hate it too.” Eliott steps closer, putting both rings inside one hand and using his free hand to grip one of Lucas’. “But for every change that happens there are still constants.” He places one of the rings inside Lucas’ palm. “And you have a lot of that, whether you believe it or not.” With both hands now free, Eliott takes the ring he kept for himself and drops it around his pinky finger. “But if there’s anything I want you to always believe, it’s that I will be your constant, Lucas Lallemant.”

“Constant?” Lucas chokes, eyes stinging from the force of the tears he’s holding back. God, he’s such a cry baby and Eliott knows it too, the bastard. “Like, always? Like—” Forever. But that’s a scary word. “Whatever happened to minute by minute?” He laughs weakly, hand gripping the ring tight in his hold.

Eliott leans down to press a kiss atop Lucas’ closed fist. “Okay, what if I tell you that here, in this exact spot, a minute lasts forever?” Because of course Eliott isn’t afraid of forever. Maybe Lucas will learn to be brave too.

Absently, Lucas mimics Eliott’s earlier movements, sliding the ring around his pinky and staring at it in wonder. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen himself wear a ring in his whole life. It’s a little loose on him but he’ll deal with that later, now’s not the time to worry about tiny details. “That’s absurd.”

“You’re absurd.”

“No you.” And Lucas launches himself up and into a hard kiss, putting all the brimming feelings he’s too stupefied to vocalize at this moment. “Buying promise rings,” he murmurs in between kisses. “When did you even— you sneaky bastard.” He pulls at Eliott’s shirt, dragging him down as he sags back on his heels. Eliott’s hands are warm cups over his cheeks, touch so soft, ever so gentle in everything he does. Lucas is shifting to fling his arms around Eliott’s shoulders to try and bring them even closer to each other when he feels the newly appointed metal on his finger fly right off his finger and into... well... into the unknown.

He pulls away so fast he gives both of them whiplash.

Fuck. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Fuck!

Eliott is understandably confused. “Uh. What’s wrong?”

“My ring!” Lucas screeches, throwing his bag of souvenirs over onto dry land before attempting to dive headfirst into the water. Eliott stops him just in time, dragging a protesting Lucas far, far away from the ocean. “But Eliott! My ring!! Your ring?! My— ring!”

And Eliott is laughing. “It’s okay, Lu.”

“It’s not!” He takes fistfuls of Eliott’s shirt and shakes his boyfriend because in what world is it okay to lose a ring given to you two seconds ago? “I just had it and then it’s gone!”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Eliott smiles down at him, shaking his head as he removes his own ring from his pinky and slides it onto Lucas’ ring finger. It’s a much better fit this time, but—

“But this is yours,” Lucas insists, “you’ve gotta have one too.”

“Oh, I do?” Eliott raises a teasing eyebrow.

“Of fucking course, that’s the point of a promise ring you dolt.” Wait no. “I’m the dolt. I can’t believe I lost my ring!”

Eliott’s giggles ring clear in the night. “Lucas, it’s okay, really, we’re here for a few more days, we can buy a new one before we leave, hm? Let’s go back now, I think you need some sleep.”

“I don’t need to sleep, I need to find my ring!!”

#skam france #elu fic #elu insta au #fictag #i will save my long sappy note #on ao3 #whenever i get to posting there #why did the image quality deteriorate #in between me posting this and the last time i updated #@ tumblr whats up widdat #now we play the game of #will this show up in the tags #gud night #i go back 2 sleep

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harringtown · 5 years

Text

Fic Masterlist

hi! i’m Brooke, I'm 21, and I write a lot!

this is a cumulation of like...6-7 years of writing so i apologize for typos and erros in old fics before i discovered grammarly

requests are open! no smut please and thanks!

not all of my stuff is on a03, but you can find a lot at this link!

join a taglist here!

STRANGER THINGS

*NO billy hargrove. at all. no billy. please don't ask*

Steve Harrington:

Time Flies By (completed)

Time’s Gonna Take Me (completed)

Darker Than Amber (completed)

Stories Tucked Away (completed)

Moments Stolen (completed)

A Palace From Ruin (completed)

All In Doubt - Fake Dating (completed)

Red Skies (in progress)

The Summers We Saw (completed)

With Rome Below Us (completed)

Bring Back One Last Time (in progress)

Redemption

Happiness Tidal

days like today are the antidote

it’ll be okay, cuz i’ll stay

dealing in darknesses / let me know when i’ve got room

confessions should be better planned

days with nothing but laughing loud

summer’s shown where we should go

i’ll crawl home to her

something always brings me back to you

without fear

first shootin’ star that you ever saw

coming round, falling down

people who carry me

damn permanent revery

demons / the hurt starts leaving

cool it off

are we destined to burn

honestly destined to fall

hurt me to hear you say it felt broken

maybe we’re the same star

from summer she is made

opening the car door for light

i’ve learned to lose you cant afford to

blood on the pieces

bring back / gather our ghosts

id wait all night

made his peace with letting go

in my heart

curse of us sinning and healing

love in the dark

i wanna be her run-to

lights the road at night

it’s temporary, darling

doves and ravens

bound to burn / tell the heroes / keep me afloat

Little Mermaid AU

after hours

golden moments

for all those dreams

never been afraid of any deviation

ill always hold your hand in the car

kill the guards, open the gates

save me from hitting the floor

slide on in by my side

to ease this troubled mind

last fall you were with me

for island fires & family

how we knew love was here to stay

micro waves

we kissed as though nothing could fall

put your hand in mine (*smut*)

and i let the rules bend

its cursed and its crazy to try

holes in my false confidence

our veins are busy, but my heart’s in atrophy

Robin Buckley:

my heart softens

in your eyes

how it can hold me up

no one ever got my soul right like she could

when the hoping ends part 1 2 3

you light the spark

until she stepped in

all these memories

you were all on my mind

don’t blame me for falling / plant new seeds

love that lasts

this fabulous show

she’s the sunset

can’t tire of thinking ‘bout you

uptown, get around

took us back to times

best years

Nancy Wheeler:

over that hill

ANNE WITH AN E

Gilbert Blythe:

sacred the secrets

keep your hand inside of mine

at the dune with the dawn

she steps with intention to run free

LUCIFER

Lucifer Morningstar x Chloe Decker:

love me like there aint another day

6 UNDERGROUND

Four/Billy x Reader:

a little white light

Z NATION

10k: seeing as I have like....over a hundred fics for this dude over the last few years and im trying not to make this masterlist a nightmare you can find any 10k fic under this tag

z nation fic tag

ALL FOR THE GAME

Neil x Andrew:

everything i hold

leave it to the land

held on as tightly

your touch

how to love you right

THE 100

All:

fight harder

John Murphy x Reader tag

Briller:

where you are

lay down with me

certain things

vending machine

eloise

home

firsts

introductions

in common

GIRL MEETS WORLD

Riley x Lucas:

endlessly

oh but she loves

MCU

Peter Parker:

even in the dark

DEADLY CLASS

Marcus Arguello:

when the sun sets

EYEWITNESS

Lucas x Philip masterlist

PJO

Percy x Annabeth

#brooke writes fic #masterlist

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strayneoculturekids · 5 years

Text

So What if I am? - Yangyang x Reader

Summary: your boyfriend, Yangyang- for quite some time- had finally introduced you to his friends. You immediately became friends with each and every one of them yourself, but something about Lucas and you had just clicked and you two took a liking to each other almost instantly. Not so unbeknownst to you, Yangyang became jealous just as quick as Lucas and you had become friends.

boyfriend AU

genre: fluff, crack, a teeny tiny bit of angst

Requested by @renjunniesmoomin - Could I please request either an imagine for Yangyang Liu where he gets jealous when you become friends with Lucas and he gives you the cold-shoulder making you worried but then the girl asks what's wrong and they make up?

----

“Hey, babe?” Yangyang knocked on the door of your guys’ shared bedroom, opening it and going in almost immediately after, not bothering to wait for a reply

You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes and blinking at the bright sun shining in through your window

“The hell time is it?” You asked your boyfriend

“Have you been asleep the entire day? It’s almost midday!” Yangyang laughed, amused at your baffled expression and messy hair that draped across your face

You squinted your eyes, watching Yangyang come to sit on the bed with you, slowly pushing the stray hair out of your face once he was within arms length just so he could actually see you properly.

“I was wondering if you wanted to meet some of my friends today?” He asked casually, to which you smiled widely at

“I would love to!” You clapped

“Great!” He smiled, grabbing your hand, pulling you out of bed, walking towards the door “Let’s go!”

“Yangyang! I have to get ready!” You pulled away from him

“Just kidding” He flashed his charming smile at you before pecking you on the cheek, purposely avoiding your lips because of your so-called ‘horrible morning breath’ and telling you to go get ready.

About thirty minutes had passed and Yangyang had been waiting at the front door for you like a loyal puppy, pouting and whining about how long you were taking, knowing you could hear him from the bathroom. When you finally came out, he immediately got his smile back and sighed, complaining just one more time before opening the door for you, pecking your lips as you passed him, to which you smiled at, poking his nose and telling him that he really did act like a puppy.

You two finally began to head out, planning on meeting them at a cafe which was, luckily, within walking distance. You grabbed Yangyang’s hand while walking beside him and he proceeded to swing it, doing much bigger swings than necessary, purposely messing around.

“Yangyang!” You said as your arm began to hurt from the overly big swings

“Yes?” He asked innocently, looking at you sweetly but not ceasing the swings

“we’re here now” You said, letting go of his hand and looking to the cafe, beginning to walk to it

“What??? Why’d you let go?? Don’t you love me anymore?” He did a small jog to catch up to you

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend's cute antics, but you still chose to not answer him, knowing that he knew very well why you let go.

Immediately upon entering the cafe, your eyes were drawn to a table of about 6 people, all laughing and smiling at each other, being rather loud.

“That’s them,” Yangyang said proudly, looking towards the table that had caught your attention as he pulled you towards it

“Yangyang!” one smiled “Is this your girlfriend? Hello, my name’s Kun”

“Oh- hi Kun! Yangyang’s told me about you, he always calls you mum” You giggled

Kun proceeded to glare at Yangyang as he took a seat, Yangyang just looking off to the side, smiling and shrugging.

“Xiao-Jun,” A boy with rather nice eyebrows introduced himself

“My name’s Hendery” smiled another

“Mine’s Sicheng,” A noticeably deep voice called

“Ten’s the name”

“Ten?” You asked, cocking your head at the odd name

“Well- it’s actually Chittapon Leechaiya-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You said, eyes wide while Ten laughed at your reaction to his name

“I’m Lucas,” said, finally, the last one

The one who you had just learned as Lucas outstretched his hand to you, which you took, only noticing how incredibly large they were when you shook it.

“Uh- I’m Y/N-” You bowed your head slightly

The eight of you talked throughout the entire day. They were more than amusing, Kun with his motherly tendencies, Xiao-jun being one of the only remotely normal people there, Hendery kind of reminding you of a prince- but a very weird one, Sicheng’s rejection of affection from his friends, Ten’s dirty jokes and Lucas overall awesome personality. You had taken a particular liking to Lucas, he seemed encouraging- ver loud- but would make a really nice and supportive friend. You were relieved Yangyang had people like Lucas- and the rest of the group- taking care of him.

At the end of the day, you guys all exchanged numbers and you and Yangyang said your goodbyes, beginning to walk back to your guys’ shared apartment. As soon as you two reached your apartment, you got a text.

[Tall puppy]: Hey, Y/N, it’s Lucas!

[You] I know, I already have your contact saved, you dummy

“You already have a weird contact name for him?” Yangyang asked, frowning a bit while looking over your shoulder “Hey! I thought mine was puppy?!”

“I have weird contact names for all of them and besides, you and Lucas both act like puppies.” You said, kissing your boyfriend on the cheek “Lucas is just taller”

“Do you like him better because he’s taller?” Yangyang asked stubbornly

“Baby, what are you talking about? I obviously like you more than Lucas” Your eyebrows furrowed together

He crossed his arms, glaring at your phone when yet another notification ping came from it but not resisting when you pulled him towards the couch and sat him down and gave him a big hug. He sighed and turned on the couch, putting his full body onto it and pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around your torso, burying his face into your back.

You leaned back into Yangyang, closing your eyes before getting yet another notification from Lucas, asking if you wanted to hang out with him tomorrow. You were about to open the text and reply when Yangyang quickly grabbed the phone out of your hands.

“You and I are going on a date tomorrow,” He said sternly

“Since when?” you chuckled, clearly able to tell that Yangyang was jealous

“Since now,” He said, opening your phone and replying to Lucas himself, telling him you were busy tomorrow

Lucas opened the text, chuckling when he saw that Yangyang had replied. Lucas knew his friend well enough to know how easily he got jealous so he left it alone for now.

----

You and Yanyang decide to go on a walk around the park, Yangyang holding on tightly to your hand. You two were just laughing and talking together about anything and everything. He was having a really nice time, even though he wouldn’t normally like things like these. That is, until Lucas showed up, a singlet and a pair of shorts adorning his sweaty body and a rather large dog running beside him.

“Hey, guys!” He said smiling, panting slightly, just like the dog next to him

“You have a dog?!” You gasped, kneeling down to pet it

“Nah, it’s my cousin’s, I’m just taking him for a run”

Lucas and Yangyang met eyes while you were bending down, happily scratching the dog on his stomach. Lucas smiled once he saw Yangyang’s expression.

“Someone’s jealous” Lucas teased

“Am not” Yangyang replied dismissively, crossing his arms

“Aww, my little brother is so cute,” He laughed, pinching Yangyang’s cheeks “Don’t worry, as charming and as handsome as I may be, I won’t steal your girlfriend,” He flipped his non-existent long hair

You, on the other hand, were far too busy telling the dog you’d just been acquainted with what a good boy he was to pay attention to the conversation happening above you.

“You stole the contact name she had for me!” Yangyang whined

Lucas gasped “no...Y/N...” He said overdramatically

“ya?” You answered, still distracted

“Is what Yangyang says, true?”

“What?”

“That you gave me his contact name”

“Well, he’s ‘Puppy’ and you’re ‘Tall Puppy’. You two both remind me way too much of puppies to let it down”

“Y/N...I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to change your contact name” Lucas breathed, clutching his heart, pretending to be in pain, to which Yangyang rolled his eyes at, but couldn’t help a smile

“I already have” You chuckled “I changed it to ‘loud idiot’ yesterday after Yangyang complained. I just wanted to see his reaction”

“Wah?!” Yangyang exclaimed, looking quite betrayed “You tried to make me jealous on purpose?!”

By now, both you and Lucas were in fits of laughter at Yangyang’s distressed expression.

“I wanted to see how you would react” You turned around, smiling at the muddle of emotions on your boyfriend’s face

“I would never give anyone else your contact name,” You said sweetly

Lucas smiled one last time before quickly saying goodbye to you two, muttering to himself about needing to get back, calling the dog who, you, unfortunately, forgot to ask the name for who followed him into the distance.

“You’re mean”

“I know. I love you”

“I love you too” said Yangyang reluctantly, not being able to help the tiny little smile that made it’s way onto his face when you pecked him on the nose

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hazelandglasz · 5 years

Note

Prompting 'our students think we’re dating' + 'we leave each other notes on the blackboards' AUs, cause it makes A LOT of sense. Pretty please? (I love you, chérie.)

disneyklaine asked: hmm….. the blackboard notes one :)

anonymous asked:OUR STUDENTS THINK WE’RE DATING AU omg

anonymous asked:Okay, so those hs aus were amazing! maybe you could write “our students think we’re dating au” some time? (for Klaine) :) :) :)

Alright then ^^

AKA Five times a student tried to prove his teachers are dating and the one time the teachers are undeniably dating.

On AO3

Lucas knows that there is something going on.

He knows it, with every fiber of his being. And Ishrak can tell him that he’s delusional and that it’s not sane to ship real people as much as he wants to, Lucas will not be undeterred.

Professor Hummel and Professor Anderson are undeniably in a relationship, and he will prove it to his unromantic boyfriend if it is the last thing he does.

(Hopefully, it won’t come to that.)

They are fairly obvious, when you know how to look.

1. Hiding in plain sight

The way they always, always, come rain, snow or sun, always arrive separately exactly 7 minutes apart.

“That’s not exactly a proof, Lulu, it just means that they are punctual.”

“Exactly seven minutes apart, every morning! No, no no, it proves that they are coming together, and then Mr Hummel waits what he considers a sufficient amount of time for it to be inconspicuous and make his entrance.”

“That makes … eurgh, I hate you for making sense.”

“Ah!”

2. Three is a crowd

Lucas does not stalk his two favorite teachers.

(He does not.)

However.

It just so happens that their paths often cross on campus.

And whenever Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson happen to be hanging out, there is always, always, at least one other member of staff with them.

Sometimes it’s Ms. Jones, who appears to be very happy to link her arms with them as they walk and laugh.

Sometimes it’s Ms. Berry, who leads the way with a confidence inversely proportional to her size while Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson humor her.

Sometimes they can be spotted having a very animated conversation with Mr Evans--especially Mr Anderson, while Mr Hummel shakes his head and hides his mirth behind a large travel mug.

If Lucas was not intimately convinced of Mr Anderson’s commitment to Mr Hummel, his apparent bromance with Mr Evans could be another theory, but no.

Mr Evans’s constant googly eyes toward Ms Jones are legendary across the whole school.

And while Lucas is particularly invested in the Hummel-Anderson relationship, he can see how they would make a cute couple.

3. The Travel Mug

Speaking of the travel mug.

Both teachers are known for being coffee addicts of the first order.

But.

Lucas would bet his life on the fact that he has now seen the dark travel mug on both desks, on separate occasions.

From afar, it just looks like a black cup, but on closer inspection, it does bear a pattern that Ishrak kindly identified as a Darth Vader silhouette, which fits Mr Anderson’s discrete geeky chic. But, it could be misconstructed for a skull, which would fit Mr Hummel’s seldom gothic aesthetic.

Ergo, game, set and match.

“You do know that these mugs are sold by the thousand, every day, right?”

“Why would Mr Hummel, McQueen is a genius and Gautier is the last designer who understood the dramatic possibilities for movie costumes, Hummel, would have a Star Wars mug of all things?”

“Did he actually say that?”

“Yep. Made us watch the Fifth element to make his point.”

“So he does like sci-fi.”

“... Shit, you make a point!. But still, I’m sure it’s the same than Mr Anderson.”

“So maybe they both like Star Wars.”

“Yeah they do. And they Yub Nub all night long, if you get my drift.”

Ishrak rubs his face. “I will give you that one if you never, ever repeat Yub Nub in that context, you heathen.”

4. The Post Its

That is perhaps the more damning proof Lucas has at his disposal.

Both teachers hold office hours on the same, which is not his proof.

But on the two occasions Lucas had to go and ask them for some informations--Mr Hummel for a book reference Lucas didn’t catch and could apparently save his essay, Mr Anderson to ask for an extension on a paper due the following week because his anxiety hit hard--Lucas spotted something on their respective boards.

Oh, while both teachers mostly have pictures and articles on those boards, there are little notes written on Post-Its carefully pinned to the panels.

Lucas doesn’t pry too much into them to figure out what they say--though the hearts drawn on Mr Hummel’s leave little to the imagination--but.

But.

He recognizes the handwritings.

“You can’t read what they say but you ‘know’ they’re each other’s handwriting? Babe, no more C.S.I. for you.”

“I’m telling you, Ish, they write each other little notes--I’m sure they hide them in their lunchbox, the dorks.”

“Hm. That would be cute.”

“Right?!”

“...No! Luke, you will not get me to ship two of my most esteemed professors! No! Bad Lucas.”

“Look at the notes next time you’re in their offices, and tell me I’m wrong.”

“If I do, will you stop with this obsession of yours and help me with my project?”

“What, getting Mr Evans and Ms Jones together?”

“Stop looking at me like that, it’s not shipping, it’s giving them a happy story.”

“Hm-hm.”

*Shush.”

“Hm-hm.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

5. Too Single To Be Honest

The final point in Lucas’ case in proving that Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson are dating is the most damning, but also the most … well, convoluted, even he can see that.

Number 1: both men are handsome, if differently so, and in their prime.

Number 2: they always show up for the students shows and the balls and the mixers.

(Again, seven minutes apart, Lucas is going out of his mind with this gap.)

Number 3: they never bring a date that could be considered a date.

(“Mr Anderson’s brother does not count as a date, what the fuck?”)

Number 4: they never talk about a significant other. Never.

Number 5: But. They are both incurable romantics.

Conclusion: it is highly unlikely that both these men are still single and they are using the social events on campus to hide their relationships as a professional one instead of the romantic one that it is.

“That doesn’t make a shred of sense.”

“No, no, it does! Look: what better way to fly under the radar than making an appearance at the soirées? If they didn’t come--and I know what you’re thinking, why wouldn’t they take advantage of everybody being busy with the different events to have their own datenight on their own, right?”

“...Right.”

“Then, if they didn’t come, it would become quite obvious that both Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson are always missing on these; And then, it would be super easy to just connect the dots and figure out that the two are, um, closer than they would like us to think.”

“Shit, how do you make sense of the most convoluted and useless conspiracy theory!”

“It’s a talent.”

“Mr Anderson must love you in this creative writing class.”

“He does.”

“Why do you care so much about that? What does it matter if they are indeed dating?”

Lucas pulls Ishrak closer to him and rests his chin on top of his head. “I don’t know,” he says softly, “it would be cool to have an older couple to look up to. To see that gay relationships are not just a thing for us, but it exists for older people too.”

“They’re not that old,” Ishrak says as he snuggles up to his lanky boyfriend. “But I see what you mean.”

+1 The BlackBoard

Now, Ishrak would love to find a way to make Lucas drop the whole “Hummel Anderson” affair.

It was endearing, at first, to see his boyfriend get all riled up, but it’s slowly becoming a Thing. Lucas even bought a corkboard to tie, literally tie with a red thread, all of his proofs.

Ishrak wishes he could find a way, really.

But what he just saw with his own two eyes is pretty damning evidence, fuck it all to the seven rings of Hell.

See, every week, Mr Anderson’s class precedes Mr Hummel’s.

Lucas and Ishrak are quite happy about that, it gives them a moment where they don’t have to rush across campus to get to their class (and some times to catch up on their making out, if they can).

Except today Lucas has a cold, so Ishrak had to leave the classroom and wait in front of it for Mr Hummel to arrive.

That’s how he witnesses it all, really.

Being the last to leave, he can see Mr Anderson scribbling something in a small corner of the blackboard. As he goes to leave, there is a small smile on his face that Ishrak can only describe as fond.

“Ah, waiting for your next class, Mr Rahman?”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Make sure to tell Mr Angos that I will send him the Powerpoint presentation later today, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir.”

Mr Anderson smiles at him before getting his messenger bag in place and walking down the hall.

Ishrak watches him go--he loves Lucas, but he still has eyes, okay--before looking back in the classroom.

He entirely blames his C.S.I. boyfriend on his first impulse to go back inside and read whatever Mr Anderson wrote.

He shakes his head and sits on the floor.

He tells himself that it is not his business, that for all he knows, Mr Anderson had a stroke of inspiration and wrote what went through his head to memorize it for later.

But, a voice that sounds like Lucas counters, why wouldn’t he write it down in his notebook? Or on his phone? Hell, on his hand would be more conductive to later work than the blackboard of a classroom he is not going to return to before the end of the week!

Ishrak sighs before getting to his feet.

But before he can step inside and snoop, Mr Hummel arrives, whistling.

That sounds like the Cantina song, but--

“Hello, Mr Rahman. Ah, deprived of your companion today, are you?”

“Hello, sir; Yeah, Lucas is under the weather.”

“Shame. He would have loved today’s class. Should I give you the sheet to give to him?”

“Sure, Sir.”

“Come on,” Mr Hummel says, opening the door, “I know the class starts in ten minutes, but even those wooden chairs are more comfortable than the floor.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Ishrak approaches the desk under the pretense of getting the papers for Lucas.

And that’s how he manages to read what’s on the board.

Hi Sally. There you are. B.A.

It doesn’t make any sense, and yet.

And yet, Ishrak simply has to put the look on MR Anderson’s face when he wrote it next to the look on Mr Hummel’s face when he reads it to know, with absolute certainty, that the message bears a lot of weight for them.

Because they are, irrevocably and undeniably, a “them”.

Eurgh, Lucas is never going to let him hear the end of it, is he?

#Anonymous #disneyklaine #sometimes i write #klaine au #college teachers au #fluff #slightly cracky i'm afraid

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jiminscaramel · 5 years

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at bay | mark [nct] | 02

[GENRE] fluff & angst

[COUNT] 2.6k

[PAIRING] fem holiday-rep!reader x holiday-rep!mark

[WARNINGS] not proofread

[AU] holiday representative au (is that a thing?)

⬸ 01 | 02

The next day is a scorcher, temperatures soaring and settling into the high forty’s, but it’s not enough to stop the horde of adults, in tow with their kids, from getting their desired holiday tan. You usually find pool duty the most insufferable job but not for the reasons some might think.

Lucas is at the head of the pool, throwing in beach balls and pool noodles at the kids and just generally making a fool of himself to keep them entertained. You roll your eyes but smile, because if you admired anything about that boy it was his ability to capture and hold anyone’s attention. He waves at you to join him but you pretend you can’t see, your sunglasses hiding where your gaze truly lies.

He’s usually a nightmare to get along with and you dread any shift you have to work together, but he’s been suspiciously kind today, saving his clownery for the intended audience.

“I knew I’d find you slacking off here,” you hear a voice chuckle behind you and swivel on your heel to find Mark smirking, clipboard in hand.

“I’m not slacking off,” you fire back, straightening your posture and trying to look alert. “It’s just hot. I needed a break.”

“Sure,” Mark laughs, sidling up beside you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you–”

Lucas turns up the volume on the outdoor speakers, gaining a cheer from the kids. He starts dancing a routine and encourages them to follow suit in the pool.

“What is he doing?” You whisper in exasperation. You shake your head and divert your attention back to Mark. “Sorry, you were saying?”

His cheeks flush and the tips of his ears turn bright red as he works up the courage to get the words off of his tongue. “Uh, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out next week?”

“Next week?” You ask surprised, expecting him to have wanted to hang out today. You push your glasses up to sit atop your head and wait for him to continue.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight nervously to the other foot. “Yeah, it’s, uh– it’s my birthday next week. I figured we could just hang out or go for a drink or something. I mean– only if you want to, I just thought it would be a nice idea–”

You bite back a laugh at his shifty behaviour, his nerves allowing him to babble on. Mark was always, without fail, confident with his customers. He could sell an excursion to almost anyone, sweet talk even the most difficult customers into anything and it’s what made him excellent at his job. But around you, his confidence was almost non-existent. His confidence completely depletes and leaves him a jittery, nervous wreck.

But it’s sweet, you think, cocking your head to the side and observing him with curious eyes. You’d never let him, or anyone else for that matter, ever know that you feel exactly the same way. Something about him crumples your self-confidence and turns your insides into mush.

“Sure,” you reply with a simple shrug of the shoulders in an effort to hide your own nerves. “I gotta check the rota but it sounds great.” You smile at him and watch as his eyes light up in response.

“Thanks–”

You hear Lucas shout your name from across the pool, his voice getting louder and louder as he approaches. In the short space of time your attention had been focused on Mark, Lucas had somehow managed to shed his shirt. “The kids wanna see you dance.”

“The kids do, or you do?” You quip, folding your arms, a wry smile playing on your lips. “And do you ever keep your shirt on for longer than five minutes?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. There’s only so much I can do up there on my own. You could come and help me out instead of flirting back here.” He pouts playfully.

“I’m not flirting, I’m taking a break. Mark can help.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Lucas cuts in first. “Mark’s not on pool duty. Nice try though.” He roughly slips his hand in yours and pulls you along after him, leaving you no choice but to cut your break short.

“Next week, yeah?” You call over your shoulder at Mark.

“Next week!”

Mark can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy echo in his chest as he watches Lucas lead you away, hand tucked so brazenly in yours, without a care in the world. He figures it’s a long shot, asking you out on a date under the guise of a few birthday drinks but there’s no harm in trying, right? Besides, he sees the way you look at Lucas and something in him sours as he realises you don’t look at him with the same kind of sparkle in your eye.

Lucas twirls you around at the head of the pool, pulling you flush against him before spinning you around again. It could just be his imagination, his envy clouding his judgement, but he sees sparks fly when you meet Lucas’ eyes.

Mark second guesses himself and silently wonders why he should bother. Sure it was always going to be a long shot, but just how far is he willing to shoot?

“Hey shit-head, can you do me a favour?” You march onto the villa patio with your head buried in a sheet of paper; the all important rota.

“With that kind of attitude? Absolutely not.” Lucas mumbles around a mouthful of food. He chases it down with a swig of orange juice before continuing. “What do you need?”

“Can you swap days with me next week? I got something planned on Thursday but I’m scheduled in for a busy day.”

“So?”

“So,” you roll your eyes for nth time already that day. “How about you take the day off tomorrow and I work that shift for you and in return, you work my Thursday shift? Deal?”

Lucas pretends to think long and hard. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?” His eyes twinkle with mischief and the corners of his mouth twitch up in a devilish smirk.

“Nothing.” You deadpan. “You get your day off earlier than usual. That’s it.”

He stands and stretches. “I don’t know...”

“Really?”

Sensing your growing levels of frustration he laughs it off. “I’m kidding. Sure, whatever. I’ll work your Thursday.”

You punch the air in victory, a genuine smile breaking out. “Thank you!” You lean in to give him a quick hug, pecking his cheek as he ducks low. He laughs in surprise and shakes his head as you run off, excited to break the news to Mark.

It was probably nothing, Mark tries to convince himself. He tries to remind himself that whatever he feels for you doesn’t necessarily mean anything and that until he makes those feelings explicitly clear, then there’s no way you can actually know.

You’re not bound to him, you’re not committed or obligated to him and you can do whatever the hell you want with whoever the hell you wanted. But the more he observes you and Lucas and compares the interactions with his, the more he doubts himself. Had he read you wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions, too blinded by his pining to realise that you might not necessarily feel the same?

He wanted to ask about you and Lucas, but couldn’t quite find a subtle way of addressing the matter. There was no way to bring up the little kiss without giving away his true intentions or feelings; no way to address the constant skinship between you and him and if it meant anything.

Perhaps it’s just you as a person and maybe Mark is worrying for no reason. As much as it could mean something, it could equally mean nothing. And it probably was.

Mark sighs as his thoughts come full circle again, the same worries spinning endlessly in his mind. He sets the game console down and huffs again in frustration, unable to quell the raging anxiety in his chest. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and stands up to fetch a pool cue, hoping the level of concentration needed to play will distract him from his thoughts.

He mills around the table for what seems to be the better half of an hour, sinking the striped balls into the pockets, focused and tuned out from the surrounding noises of the reps’ games room.

“Hey!”

Your voice startles him, his hand slipping, missing the ball altogether. He clears his throat to hide his start and turns to face you, though he can’t bring himself to smile.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Since when do you hang about here?”

“I just needed some space,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “The villa can get pretty cramped sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, sensing something isn’t quite right. “Is everything ok though? You seem a bit... off?”

“I’m fine,” Mark replies a little too quickly. “I’m fine.” He repeats, more composed.

“If you’re sure... I just wanted to let you know I managed to get Thursday off next week for your birthday so we’ve got the whole day to hang out!” The excitement in your voice is genuine, Mark knows that for sure, but the incessant voice in his head tells him otherwise, further planting more doubt in his mind.

“About that,” he starts, but he’s not sure where he’s going with it. The words fall out quicker than he can stop them. “I think I’m just gonna have a quiet day in instead. Temperatures are gonna be sky high so I think it’s best if I just stay out the sun.”

Your face falls and your heart drops to your feet but you do everything in your power to remain composed. “Oh.”

Mark regrets the words the second they leave his mouth and your evident disappointment tugs at his heart. “Yeah.”

The wall mounted tv blares out a sports game, filling the momentary silence before you speak up again, clearing your throat to rid yourself of all emotion. “Well... if you change your mind, I’ll still be free, just... just let me know, I guess.”

“I will.” The two of you stand there awkwardly waiting for the other to make a move. “Wanna play?” He offers weakly in an attempt to mend things but you shake your head no.

“I’m gonna head back home,” you frown and swallow the ball in your throat, trying to keep the hurt at bay. “I’ll see you later.”

You turn and leave without waiting for a response, wanting nothing more than to be alone. You chide yourself for being so childish and try to reason that Mark cancelling had nothing to do with you. He was allowed to change his mind and at the end of the day, you weren’t exactly close friends yet, he didn’t have to report back to you or explain himself to you.

Yet you can’t help but feel at fault, one way or another.

In the days that follow, you notice Mark actively keeping his distance from not only you, but from Johnny and Lucas too. He was never in the same room as them, or you for that matter, and barely spoke a word to anyone.

You can’t help but feel responsible and so you feel an extra sense of responsibility to make him feel better.

Thursday rolls around quicker than you’d have liked and with both Lucas and Johnny gone for the day, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the time ahead.

“Have fun at that thing or whatever you have planned today!” Lucas calls over his shoulder with a wink as he rushes out the front door.

He doesn’t hang around to wait for an answer, so you don’t bother giving one. Mark rolls his eyes and tuts in annoyance, muttering under his breath as he tidies the kitchen.

“Can he make it anymore obvious?”

“Ok, Avril Lavigne,” you laugh softly, but the joke seems to fly over his head. “What are you talking about?”

“His shameless flirting. It’s getting pretty annoying.” He slams the fridge with a tad more force than necessary.

You blink, completely at loss. “You’ve been acting real weird lately and, I don’t know, it’s probably none of my business but what’s going on with you?” You lean on the back of the chair, quietly observing his scrunched up face.

His brows furrow further together, his frown deepening. “Nothing.”

“You plan on spending your birthday like this?” You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow in question.

“That’s up to me.” He tries to push past you but you grab his upper arm gently, your worried eyes searching his.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart suddenly racing a hundred miles an hour. Up close he looks even more breathtaking and it takes an ungodly amount of composure to hold yourself together. His gaze is stormy, almost angry but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. “Mark, what’s the matter?”

And for a second you expect him to shake you off and ignore another attempt to find out what’s been troubling him. But his eyes soften and beneath his tough boy exterior, he looks upset, hurt almost.

He figures just blurting it out is the best thing to do. What harm could it do now? “I was looking forward to spending time with you...” he admits, but your puzzled expression deepens.

“I was too. But you’re the one who cancelled. I thought maybe you didn’t want to.” You shrug. “No big deal.”

“It was a big deal.” He blurts out.

“Shit happens, you know?” You try and reassure him, thinking that perhaps some emergency had come up or something else he couldn’t avoid had stopped him from spending his birthday like he’d planned. “There’s always tomorrow, or next week, or next month. It doesn’t have to be today–”

“That’s not it,” his teeth worry his lip, chewing nervously.

“I don’t understand. Then what happened?” Your pulse thrums in your ears, blood rushing to your head in anticipation.

“You and Lucas...” he trails off, unsure now. Now that he’s voiced it aloud, it doesn’t seem to make sense.

“Me and that goofball? What about him?” You grow more confused every time he opens his mouth but you eventually put two and two together. “Ohhh,” you draw out the sound, realisation hitting. “You think me and Lucas...?” You gesture with your hands and Mark nods shyly.

You burst out laughing and although Mark doesn’t quite understand, he feels the tension lift from his shoulders. His jaw relaxes and he feels his own lips twitch as he tries to suppress a smile. His cheeks light up again in embarrassment. “What’s funny?”

“I’d rather eat bricks than ever date him. He’s insufferable!” You clutch your stomach as your laughter subsides. “Oh god, I swear, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just– the idea–” your burst into another fit of giggles and Mark starts to chuckle along.

“So you’re not dating?” He asks a final time for clarification.

“Never in a million years.” You shake your head. “He’s a nice guy, really, but we’re just very different. Me and you though–” you clamp your lips together before you let anything else slip, but the way Mark’s face lights up encourages you to continue. “Uh... me and you should totally go for that drink.”

“His about we go for dinner instead?”

“Dinner? As in, ‘a date’ dinner?”

He pauses for a moment, then nods, his mouth twisting into a grin. “A date dinner.” He pulls you into a tight hug and squeezes your shoulders, his heart beating erratically in time with yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you exclaim once you pull away. You lean up on your tip-toes and gently press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Happy birthday.”

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immortalcockroach · 5 years

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21 + 15 + 8!

asdfghjkl rose thank you for asking ♥️ this ended up coming out incredibly long, so i apologize in advance!

8) where do you take your inspiration from?

surprising! mostly from visual media, actually. graphics, art, moodboards, films, tv series, that kind of stuff. occasionally, music, and even more rarely, written media (fics, books, poems, similar). that’s for when i’m starting to get ideas. when i already have something written or ideas developed a bit more, then i have a moodboard on pinterest and a playlist on spotify, or i watch something that has the same mood/theme as the thing i’m writing.

15) if you write oc’s, how do you decide on their names?

i don’t usually write oc’s for fics, but i do them for my original stuff. the names depend on the characters’ background and location, but they all have a name that either sounds specific to their character or who they’re supposed to be, or the meaning is very connected.

in other cases, most of the time, i just go ‘woah this sounds cool’ or sometimes i build a whole character because of their name and subsequently the whole story.

21 tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? what is it about them that you admire?

i love this question!! let me give my favourite fic writers a shoutout, even though i’m probably missing some too!! it’s really long but honestly these people worked hard and they really deserve it

@grumpybell‘s ideas are absolutely brilliant. i’m a huge fan. the stories themselves, the plots would be enough for me to have a whole paragraph about, but for me, the characters are where it’s at. well-developed, very true to the canon but also to the universe the fic is set in, but also very well-rounded and overall realistic. the fics just flow really nice, honestly, and i could read them for eternity.

fic shoutout: oh darling, here’s hoping god i remember reading this red riding hood au and just... falling in love. i did. i fell in love with bellamy as the wolf and clarke’s desperation to save him, and the new take on the fairy tale, it was just absolute perfection. i keep coming to it every once in a while, honestly. it’s just magic.

@asroarke is one of those people who are just integrated into a fandom’s fanfiction. imagining t100 fanfiction with asroarke is like... imagining the sky without the stars. i think those fics were the first ones i read when i joined the fandom, and i remember one of the things i thought was how easy it was to read. everything flowed as if there was no effort needed, as if the words have always been there, just plucked and placed on a blank document. and the consistency, honestly, damn. these fics are better than probably more than half of published stuff i’ve read.

fic shoutout: drag me down. look there’s a pattern here and it’s the mythical/legends/fairy tale aus. i present you with a retelling of little mermaid in the most beautiful, soul-wrenching way. i waited every single chapter for when i came out. i read it as soon as i saw it came out, even if i was in the middle of grabbing coffee with a friend. honestly everything by asroarke is absolutely fantastic.

@blvke-bellamy okay look. when i saw may is just 15 i nearly fell off my chair. i’d kill to have that talent at 15. i would. look, i keep saying look, because i’m shook. but honestly, may’s characterization is brilliant. she took my faves from the 100 and managed to insert them into a different universe, and they feel so much like the original characters and not at all. the dynamics between them are so raw and so pure and so believable i cried at one particular scene in her fic. or it might be two scenes. and look, this is impressive on its own, and then knowing she’s just 15...god.

fic shoutout: step into the sun is a bellarke tangled au and honestly. i’m a slut for tangled. it’s so damn good. and this fic?? inspired by tangled?? absolutely brilliant. marvelous. 11/10. brought my fish to life. and honestly murphy is my favourite in the fic, literally one of my favourite portrayals of him in every fic i’ve ever read. i binged this. i lost sleep over this. no ragrets.

@pawprinterfanfic (i’m biased but. in top 3 fic writers ever. and i’ve been in a lot of popular fandoms.) paw manages to take a universe and make it hers. paw manages to create a universe out of nothing and make it feel more realistic than my own life. and honestly, i am reading her hunger games au right now and it’s amazing, but the best part is that i’m also reading the harry potter au which is even better and although both are masterpieces, i can see the improvement. the development of the characters, the amount of effort in planning and mapping things out, it’s marvellous. her fics just speak to me on a different level, it feels as if i’m experiencing them myself rather than reading them, and what i’m mostly in awe of is how immersed i am in those fics, especially the newer ones. i feel like it’s a rare skill to have.

fic shoutout: starry eyes and galaxy minds (we’ll be dancing on the clouds at night) which is a spider-man au, and honestly, i cried. it’s beautiful. it’s a masterpiece. but so is literally every single one of paw’s stories, so it was a really difficult choice. the harry potter one? j k rowling wishes she wrote it.

skai_heda (i don’t know their tumblr please someone help me find it). where do i begin. honestly. when i started reading the fic i put below, i was mesmerised by the writing style. it was partly in second pov which i’d usually refuse to read, but this writing style is something that belongs to gods. the characterization is amazing, it manages to fix some of the stuff in canon without actually changing it. everything just comes together naturally, and i always feel so satisfied when reading their fics. plus, the writing style again, especially in the fic below, is flawless. some people can create magic with their words, and i’m convinced i’ve just found one.

fic shoutout: everything that comes after deserves so much!! more!! attention!!! i remember reading the first two chapters and just being like...wooow. i was starstruck. i left a long ass comment. it’s so unique and so beautiful. it’s the only fic on this list written in the canon universe, and it’s one of my favourites i’ve ever read about the canon universe. it hurts. it makes you cry, and ache, and understand, and smack your head because you just want people to be happy. if i could pocket the way this fic made me feel, i would always keep it with me. (a little frustration, but a whole lotta love.)

give me a number and i’ll answer questions about writing fanfiction

just in case you’d like to see the same questions answered for non-fanfiction/non-fanfiction influence, see below!

15) if you write oc’s, how do you decide on their names?

specific example of mentioned above - a wip about teenagers who come from a rich side of town and a poor side. there’s posh names, like cedric, declan, byron and gregory, for people who are supposed to represent the posh, stuck-up class; hadley, tessa, abigail, kate for privileged people who are the ‘good guys’; and luca, oliver, han, freddie, who are from the poor side. it’s very classist so it was very important that the names represent the characters. usually, i go for the “vibe” of the name over the meaning, to be honest.

21 tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? what is it about them that you admire?

i love this question!!

fiction: maggie stiefvater, because her raven cycle series genuinely feels like magic when i read it. the characters are brilliant. erin morgenstern, who wrote the night circus, because that novel also feels like magic. donna tart’s the secret history feels as if you’re reading a secret and the storytelling sort of reminds me of f. scott fitzgerald’s the great gatsby in a way i can’t really describe. she creates a beautiful, magnificent atmosphere and you know what the characters are doing is wrong, but you completely understand them and it makes me, as a reader, question my own moral standards. madeline miller’s the song of achilles is a beautifully written masterpiece that made me fall in love with mythology, legends and history all over again. the way she develops the characters and retells the story i’ve heard a million times is so poetic and beautiful it just resonates with me on a different level. and finally, leigh bardugo with her six of crows series that again, makes me question my morals, but shows the friendship and loyalty between people in a beautiful way. it also shows a romance that i think is one of best written i’ve read, up there for me romances from the novels/series i’ve already mentioned.

there’s a pattern - storytelling and character-building that feels almost otherworldly, very focused on emotions and character development. basically, stories that you feel like as if they were made into films without proper, detailed development, wouldn’t translate well enough to bring the world to the screen. and romances incredibly well-developed over time, that go beyond just being romances and actually show a beautiful connection.

special mention of these directors, as they have a huge influence on my writing: christopher nolan, john krasinski, quentin tarantino, m night shyamalan, steven knight, guillermo del toro, alfred hitchcock, for their storytelling and character building. also, some of these are for the suspense that seems to come naturally. i know most of these are very popular directors, but they’re popular for a reason. i could literally write an essay on each of these people, honestly. my writing is very inspired by motion pictures, i most often look up to how these directors approached some things that i have in my writing, especially themes. (this could literally be a whole essay on its own)

#zoyanasyalenzky #god this took me ages #fic rec #the 100 #bellarke #these are all bellarke fics #i should probably say this #also #fic talk #rose #i had so much fun though #and there's so many people i haven't put in here #mostly because i'm exhausted #i just really love reading these people's fics #ask me questions if you want horribly long answers #i'll always deliver #also i might do a fic rec soon #probably should ah

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sunsetscurving · 5 years

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Oh, Cruel Fate (Enemies to Lovers AU)

Ch. 15

ao3 link

[special thanks to @sharetheskamlove for this cute af idea!]

The Demaurys and the Lallemants had been enemies for over one hundred years. And when Lucas first meets Eliott, he hates him with his whole heart even without knowing him, blaming him and his family for his life which is slowly falling apart. But when they are forced to live alongside in the same surrounding, something is changing between them. And this scares Lucas more than anything else.

Lucas was woken up by the sun shining on his face. He stretched a bit, the fabric of the bedsheets caressing his skin. He turned around, snuggling into the blanket and the pillow beside him.

The empty pillow beside him.

Lucas slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight. He needed some seconds to gather his thoughts, to recall what happened and to recognize where he even was. He hadn’t seen this room by daylight, only in the dim hours before dawn turned into night. And suddenly a smile spread on his face.

Eliott.

Eliott happened.

Lucas buried his face in the empty pillow beside him, grinning as the scent from Eliott wrapped itself around him.

Lucas never felt so many things and emotions in one night. And he shivered, thinking about Eliott’s hands on his body and his kisses on every part of his skin. They haven’t really talked about everything, but this night was like a promise: They could make it. And they would. Lucas wouldn’t let go of Eliott, not after this night, not after their whispered words in the darkness.

Just then, the realization that Eliott was actually not beside him hit him. And suddenly, all the warm feelings inside of Lucas disappeared and some kind of panic rose inside him. Eliott didn’t left him. He surely was somewhere in this big house, doing breakfast or something like that. He would not… run away again. Lucas made it clear that he won’t leave Eliott alone anymore and he would hold his promise, if Eliott wanted or not.

Suddenly, Lucas heard something in the garden. He frowned and stood up, putting on his underwear and Eliott’s hoodie. He walked to the window, his feet naked and his hair messy as always. He pulled the yellow curtain aside, looking out into the garden and his heart skipped a bit.

All the panic faded away as he saw Eliott crouching in front of a tall hedge. He was only wearing his underwear too, apparently looking at something very interesting in or on the hedge.

Eliott didn’t run away.

He was still there and he wouldn’t leave.

Stop panicking, Lucas. Everything is okay.

Lucas was faster downstairs than he expected him and walked out in the garden, the grass under his naked feet tickling him, the sun warming his bare legs. The garden from the Demaurys was huge. Even bigger than Lucas’ own and his garden was already nearly a whole park. But Lucas had no interest in looking at the beautiful flowers or the tall trees. He only had eyes for the tall boy, kneeling on the grass, his arms outstretched in front of him.

“What are you actually doing here?”, asked Lucas while laughing quietly, slowly approaching him.

Eliott looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he took in the other boy. Something like realization could be seen on Eliott’s face, his eyes drifting to Lucas’ messy hair before looking back to the hedge in front of him again.

“Lucas! Come here, quickly!”

Lucas frowned and was next to Eliott in two strides.

“What is it? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Lucas was immediately worried, maybe his illness affected him in some kind of way Lucas couldn’t see. But Eliott shook is head, Lucas taking a deep breath.

“Look. Look, who I found.”

Lucas crouched down next to Eliott, squinting his eyes in the direction where Eliott pointed. And then Lucas saw it – a little hedgehog was stuck in the fence behind the hedge, desperately trying to get out of there.

“We need to help him”, said Lucas quietly, his heart breaking for the little animal.

Eliott nodded, kissing Lucas’ cheek casually. Lucas blushed – this was so normal, like a teenager relationship should be. He pushed the thoughts of their still ongoing feud aside, only caring and living for the here and now.

Eliott was now stretching out his arms, slowly and very carefully wrapping his fingers around the hedgehog, trying not the hurt the animal and himself. He pulled slightly on the body of the little creature, freeing him in this way and getting him out of danger. Lucas and Eliott simultaneously started to smile, Eliott setting down the little guy in front of them and turning his head to Lucas. Lucas was still looking at the hedgehog, driving a hand through his hair absentminded.

“You know what?”, Eliott suddenly said quietly, both of them still in their happy and little space where they just saved a life.

“Hm?”

Lucas now looked at Eliott, being surprised how much he felt for the other boy. How his heart started to race whenever Eliott looked into Lucas’ soul with these beautiful eyes and—

“This hedgehog looks like you.”

Lucas stared at him, not quite believing if he understood him right.

“What the actually…”

“No, Lucas! Look.”

Eliott was now beaming, the little animal in front of them still too afraid to move away.

“The spikes look exactly like your hair”, said Eliott, grinning like a little boy. He touched Lucas’ hair, taking a strand of Lucas’ messy hair and slightly pulling on it. “They are sticking out the same way the spikes from the hedgehog stick out.”

Lucas couldn’t help himself. He burst into laughter.

“Are you really comparing me to a… hedgehog?”

“These guys are cute! Look at their tiny noses”, Eliott protested, joining into Lucas’ laughter. The hedgehog now had enough, disappearing into the hedge and Eliott made some sound of disapproving.

“You scared him. You scared Lucas, the hedgehog.”

“Lucas the hedgehog? Are you for real?” Lucas laughed, raising his eyebrows at Eliott who was pulling Lucas into his arms now while still laughing. It was music in Lucas’ ears. They were falling back to the ground together, laying in the grass now. Lucas was hovering over Eliott while Eliott started to play with Lucas’ hair, both of them grinning the whole time.

“I’m only gonna call you little hedgehog from now on.”

“No fucking way.”

“You will not stop me”, Eliott said while wriggling his eyebrows at Lucas and if Lucas wouldn’t be in love already, he would be by now.

“Oh, dear god. Just promise me that you won’t use this nickname in front of people.”

“I’m gonna shout it from the rooftop”, Eliott said, laying his head back into the grass, looking up into the sky.

“LUCAS LALLEMANT IS MY HEDGEHOG!”, screamed Eliott suddenly and Lucas stared at him, his mouth open while he tried not to laugh out loud. The whole neighborhood must have heard this and there were times where Lucas would care about this.

But these times were over.

Eliott started to breath in again, ready to scream these words into the world again, but Lucas’ laid his hand over Eliott’s mouth, silencing him in this way.

“Oh my fucking god, Eliott. Are you crazy?”

Lucas laughed but he stilled, when he saw the light fading from Eliott’s eyes.

And just then he realized what he said.

“Eliott…”

Lucas was sitting up, driving his hands through his hair. He felt shame inside of him, turning his cheeks red.

“I am sorry. I… I didn’t—”

“Forget it, Lucas. You didn’t mean it that way.”

Lucas only nodded but he felt guilty for saying these words nevertheless. There were some moments of silence between them, the light and peaceful situation destroyed by Lucas again.

“Lucas… I wanted to tell you… about my illness. I really wanted to”

Lucas played with a blade of grass, his thoughts swirling around, as Eliott suddenly addressed him. He didn’t expect him to break the silence this soon, especially not with this subject. Lucas would lie if he would say that he hadn’t thought about Eliott’s illness and what all of this was about. But he swore himself not to push Eliott, not to interrogate him. If Eliott wanted to talk, then he would.

And now was apparently the time.

“It’s okay, Eliott. Really.”

“No, it’s not. Just… let me explain it to you”, said Eliott quietly, looking down on his hands as if being afraid to look into Lucas’ eyes while telling his story. “I can be… dangerous. Dangerous for myself and for my surroundings. Dangerous for people… that I love.” Eliott was now looking up, Lucas feeling some kind of warmth rising inside of him.

“It’s a personality disorder. My moods change rapidly, I tend to say and do things without me even realizing what I do or what I say. I have days, where everything is okay. Like today.”

Lucas was now taking Eliott’s hands, the other boy having really cold hands. He was nervous.

“But then… then, there are days, where everything sucks. Where I cannot do anything. Where getting up is even too much. Where existing is even too much.”

Eliott’s eyes suddenly where wet and Lucas’ heart broke for Eliott.

“I… I know. This sounds like hell on earth. And I am sorry for not telling you about it. It was selfish of me. Selfish to hide this only because I thought… I thought that I would lose you to 100 percent when I would tell you about it.”

“But I am still here”, said Lucas quietly, a tear rolling down Eliott’s cheek.

“I am still here. And you… you were the best thing that could have happened to me. And if your selfish self hadn’t insisted on approaching me again and again and again while my stupid self was always rejecting you, I wouldn’t be who I am now. I wouldn’t be ready to fight my whole family. I wouldn’t be ready to fight for you. And now I am here – in your garden after saving a little hedgehog.”

Eliott’s lips where now forming into a tiny smile.

“And if we could save this little creature – then we can also save our lives and the lives of future generations. And if you think that I deserve better… Then you’re mistaken, Eliott.”

Lucas was brushing the tear away who was leaving a wet trace on Eliott’s beautiful face.

“You have bad days? Okay. But as you mentioned, you also have good days. And we will live these good days, every hour, minute and second. We will make the best out of it.”

Lucas laid his forehead against Eliott’s, closing his eyes for a second.

“You are not alone, Eliott. You never were and you never will be.”

Eliott was now wrapping his arms around Lucas, pulling him close. He snuggled his face into Lucas’ neck and Lucas was smiling, happily and content with his life after a long time of not being able to look into a brighter future.

They could do everything.

Together.

Lucas didn’t know how and he didn’t know when – but he there was one thing he knew: Eliott was worth it.

“And if you scream at me, then I will just… scream back.”

Lucas was grinning and finally, finally he could feel Eliott laughing, his breath tickling the soft skin on Lucas’ neck.

#THIS IS A FLUFF CHAPTER #LIKE #FLUFFITY FLUFF #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam france fanfic #skam france fanfiction #oh cruel fate fanfiction #oh btw #*whispers* only 5 chapters left

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vexedtonightmares · 5 years

Text

La Fin Des Temps Chapter 16 (Elu Hogwarts AU)

Vendredi 19:25 - “C’est la fin des temps!”

Vendredi 15:30

srodulv: meet me in hogsmeade at 17h

When Eliott had told him to meet in Hogsmeade he thought, sure, this makes sense for a surprise date, but when he got there and Eliott just told him to hold onto his arm before apparating off school grounds he knew that he was in for quite the night.

It had taken a few stops, but they ended up in Paris, lights of Lucas’ favorite city in the world flashing around them. The moment their feet had touched the ground Lucas had looked to Eliott with nothing put pure love in his eyes. “This was your surprise?”

Eliott had nodded, clearly satisfied with himself.

“You were right,” Lucas had conceded, “I do love it.”

Eliott had grinned victoriously, pulling Lucas into a kiss right there in the middle of the street. Lucas wasn’t normally one for this type of PDA, but when Eliott had kissed him there, he hadn’t wanted to be anywhere else.

“Where to?” Lucas had inquired, and Eliott had just raised one eyebrow in response, smiling refusing to dull.

“You’ll see,” he’d said, and pulled Lucas along behind him.

Lucas’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much. They’d gone all over the city exploring places Lucas had never even been before. Lucas had almost gotten into a fight with a pigeon after it had come far too close to pooping right on his head. Eliott had laughed at that, far more than Lucas appreciated, but agreed to flip off the offending birds with him.

Eliott seemed like an entirely new person in his home city, alight with his usual life, but there was something more to it. It was intoxicating. Lucas would glimpse Eliott out of the side of his eye every once and a while and be utterly lovestruck by the smile that never left his face. They rode the metro together, sat at the bus station, did such mundane normal things that just weren’t possibly inside the world that was Hogwarts, and it was exhilarating. Even going to the Eiffel Tower didn’t seem touristy and cliché, it seemed special and romantic, lights twinkling just for them.

They couldn’t stop taking photos of each other either, wanting to document every minute of this perfect night between just the two of them. They even stopped somewhere to get a few photos taken together, such a cheesy coupley thing that Lucas would have been embarrassed to do if Eliott hadn’t been so enthusiastic about it. About everything. When Lucas made him try on nearly twenty leather jackets they’d never be able to afford, he did it willingly, giving his best ‘model face’, causing Lucas to double over laughing.

As revenge, Eliott made Lucas pose on a motorcycle they found and try not to get caught. In the end, the did get caught, but running away from the angry motorcycle owner was an adventure itself.

When they finally sat down to dinner in a restaurant that should have been far out of either of their price ranges, Lucas couldn’t help but stare lovingly at Eliott as he perused the menu with great focus.

“I love you,” he said, because he could.

Eliott’s eyes crinkled in their telltale fashion, giving way to a smile brighter than the dim room should have allowed. “I love you too.”

“So, monsieur,” Lucas said in the fanciest voice he could muster, “What delicacies are you going to try?”

Eliott tapped his chin, lifting it haughtily. “So many options… I say we order it all.”

Lucas giggled into his menu, trying very hard not to earn glares from the much more sophisticated diners. “If only,” he lamented, but Eliott simply leveled him with a stare.

“I’m serious. Let’s get it all.”

“Eliott we can’t,” Lucas said in a hushed laugh. The waiter was hovering nearby, likely wondering what the two of them were even doing in a place like that. Eliott rolled his eyes and Lucas wondered if he was actually upset Lucas had denied his request. There was no way they could have paid for it, especially since Lucas only had wizard currency in his pockets, not expecting the night to have turned out this way.

“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked, materializing at their side. Lucas was too busy searching Eliott’s face to answer, so Eliott took the lead and ordered a bottle of what was sure to be heart stoppingly expensive champagne.

“You’re not eighteen,” Lucas hissed when the waiter left, “How did he let you order that?”

Eliott merely raised his eyebrows. “You forget we’re wizards, Choupi.”

“But we can’t-- oh, right, I always forget you’re of able to use magic outside of school,” Lucas confessed.

“I’m full of surprises.” Eliott wiggled his eyebrows, jovial nature coming back in full force.

Lucas reached out to hold his hand on top of the table, smile splitting across his face. “And I love every one of them.”

Eliott pulled his hand away quickly as if he’d been burned, face faltering before lifting back into a wide smile. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said so softly Lucas wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

“What does that even--” Lucas began before being cut off by the waiter returning with their champagne. He poured them both a glass before leaving the bottle with them, promising to return once they’d decided what to order, and Eliott raised his glass the moment he left.

“To us,” he said, “To the man of my dreams.”

Lucas forgot everything else on his mind in that moment. “I’m the man of your dreams?”

“Well, who else would I be talking to?” Eliott laughed, clinking their glasses together and downing his drink in one long sip. Lucas tried to do the same, but couldn’t quite keep up.

“Easy there,” he joked as Eliott poured another glass.

Eliott’s eyes hardened. “I didn’t bring you here to parent me.”

“Woah, chill, I was just kidding.” Lucas was taken aback once again. Maybe Eliott was just hungry, sometimes Lucas got weirdly irritable when he was hungry, and they’d done a lot without taking a break to eat since they’d been in Paris.

Eliott looked guilty, softening once more. “Sorry, I was too.”

“Ok.” Lucas accepted the explanation without argument, turning his attention back to the menu so they could order soon. Hangry Eliott was new, but Lucas could deal for the time being, especially because Eliott would definitely have to deal with hangry Lucas in the future. Even so, Lucas didn’t say much as they waited to order, letting Eliott go first when the waiter returned. He didn’t worry about all the things that Eliott was ordering, wondering if maybe he’d been saving up money for the meal or something.

When all their food arrived Lucas’ eyes widened as he took in the smell. This might be the most delicious meal he’d ever seen in his life. Eliott dug right in, smiling at Lucas between bites, and Lucas followed suit, nearly moaning as the food reached his tongue.

“That good, huh?” Eliott laughed. Lucas blushed, avoiding answering by taking another bite. It was just as good-- no, better-- than the last. Eliott laughed again. “You look like you’re about to have an orgasm.”

Lucas dropped his fork with a clang and reached over to hit Eliott lightly on the shoulder. “Dude! Don’t say that so loud!” But he couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles as well. The waiter returned with another bottle of champagne, frowning at them disdainfully. Lucas hadn’t even realized they’d finished the other one.

He began to shake his head at the offer, but Eliott accepted it gracefully with one of his winning smiles. Even their waiter couldn’t resist the sight of it, and warmed to them slightly.

“Eliott,” Lucas said slowly as the waiter walked away, “I should have said something before but… I don’t have any money with me.”

“So?”

“So… I can’t pay for this.”

Eliott laughed. “Ok? I was going to treat you anyway.”

Eliott was still laughing but Lucas shook his head. “No, Eliott, that’s way too much money… I can’t expect that from you.”

Eliott stopped laughing and sighed, wrapping his hands around Lucas’ across the table. “I’ll tell you what, I take this one, you take all the others for the rest of the year?” He laughed again. “Deal?”

“Ok, deal.” Lucas squeezed Eliott’s hands before letting them go. “In that case… what’s for dessert?”

“That’s another surprise,” Eliott said mysteriously, raising his eyebrows. Lucas didn’t push the topic further, barely able to contain his excitement for what Eliott might have in store for them next.

After Eliott paid the bill, which he refused to let Lucas look at, they departed from the restaurant at once, taking in the darkness of the sky as they roamed the streets. The sun must have set while they ate. No matter, Lucas would have plenty of sunsets to enjoy with Eliott as long as they were together. Forever, if Lucas could swing it.

He had a sudden image of the two of them sitting on the bridge above the seine, legs dangling from the edge, hands intertwined, watching the sunset on the water. Maybe they could do that this summer. The thought was exciting, he’d almost forgotten they’d be in the same city for the holidays. It sure beat hanging out alone at home while Manon visited Charles back in London.

Eliott could take him to the Louvre, and they could laugh at all the tourists or pretend to be tourists themselves. Lucas would tell Eliott that his art belonged up there instead of stuffy old Leonardo da Vinci’s and Eliott would take offense on behalf of one of the most famous artists of all time, though he would appreciate what Lucas had said. Maybe that was what Lucas and Eliott number two thousand twenty-seven were doing right at that moment. Lucas decided he would add this to his story of parallel universes later.

“Where to next?” Lucas asked, running his thumb in circles on Eliott’s palm where it was clasped in his. He was well aware he was looking at Eliott with the dopiest expression ever, but Eliott was equally dopey, just a bit more energetic about it.

“It’s a surprise,” Eliott sang, giggling through it. He tugged Lucas along by the hand turning their leisure walk into a jog, stepping in time with one another without trying. Running while holding hands was actually kind of difficult, but they made it work, ignoring stares from people passing by who had no idea what it was to be young and in love and alive.

They stopped in front of the Plaza Athénée, Lucas bracing himself on his knees to catch his breath. Eliott let go of his hand strolling towards the building. Lucas hurried to catch up. “Eliott, what are you doing? You know where we are, right?”

“Yes?” Eliott gave him a look of confusion, like he had no idea why Lucas was mildly stressed.

“Eliott we can’t pay for this,” he pressed, but Eliott just ignored him, beelining for the concierge’s desk.

“I called with a reservation yesterday, it should be under Demaury,” Eliott said politely, already winning the concierge over with his smile. She checked her computer, tapping a few keys before looking back up at him, then at Lucas.

“You wanted to reserve one of the deluxe suites?” she clarified, looking a bit more hesitant. Before Lucas could say anything to argue, Eliott nodded. “That’s right.”

She blinked once at him before returning to her computer, finding their room. Eliott slung an arm over Lucas’ tense shoulders. “It’s our five year wedding anniversary today,” Eliott told the concierge, and Lucas turned his head to look at Eliott in confusion so fast he almost got whiplash.

“Is that so?” she asked politely.

“It is.” He gestured between the two of them. “I know we look a bit young… it’s so embarrassing, everyone always thinks we’re in high school, but we graduated from uni nearly six years ago.” He spoke with such sincerity that Lucas almost found himself believing the story, and he could tell the concierge did as well.

“Everyone wishes they still looked that young, you two are lucky,” she said with a wink, handing Eliott back a credit card Lucas hadn’t seen him give her. “I hope you’ll enjoy your night here. Please, take advantage of our spa as well, it’s free for all guests to use.”

Eliott took the room keys from the counter and smiled at her. “I daresay we will. Have a lovely night yourself.”

The suite was, for lack of a better term, fucking exquisite. There were multiple rooms and everything in there looked so expensive Lucas even scared to touch it. It was absolutely perfect, but absolutely unnecessary. “Eliott…” He didn’t even know what to say.

Eliott read his mind. “Don’t say anything. Just live in the moment, forget about everything that’s worrying you. Tonight it’s just you and me and this beautiful suite, which we have all to ourselves. Tonight we can pretend we’re Lucas number six thousand forty and Eliott number eight hundred fifty-five. Tonight we’re invincible.”

Lucas was so in love, so very in love. This was why, despite his better judgement, he matched Eliott’s smile to the best of his ability. Invincible. That sounded nice.

“What about that dessert you promised me?” he asked innocently, noting the way Eliott’s eyes traveled along the lines of his body. Eliott didn’t answer, but gave Lucas a half smirk so intoxicating it really should have been illegal.

He stepped up to meet Eliott, chest to chest underneath an outrageous crystal chandelier. It looked a bit like a starry sky, manufactured solely for the two of them. “Forget dessert,” he decided, “This is perfect. Just you and me and the stars,” he said softer than he’d meant to, running a hand up under Eliott’s shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath.

“It was always a dream of mine to fall in love under the stars,” Eliott repeated what he’d said all those weeks ago, pulling off his shirt in one swift motion, Lucas replicating the action without a second thought. Lucas wrapped his hands around Eliott’s chest and onto his back immediately, breathing him in, placing a kiss on his collarbone.

“And is it still a dream?” Lucas asked as Eliott lifted him by his thighs and wrapped them around his waist, kissing Lucas softly just below his jaw.

Eliott started walking them to the bedroom, eyes alight with arousal. “You made it a reality,” he said, then dropped Lucas onto the bed, hovering over him a moment before Lucas gripped him by the back of the neck and pulled him close, never wanting to let go.

Samedi 1:11

Lucas was pulled from sleep by the tickle of Eliott’s mouth on his cheek, eyelashes brushing his temple. “Everything ok?” he mumbled sleepily, not opening his eyes yet.

“Mmmm,” Eliott hummed in response, nose brushing Lucas’. Lucas finally opened his eyes and saw Eliott’s staring right at him. This was how he wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of his life.

Once he got his bearings, fully awake, Lucas realized Eliott’s eyes were tinged with something that looked a bit like sadness, or maybe not sadness exactly, but there was a nostalgic glaze to them. “What’s up?” he tried again.

Eliott was silent a moment, brushing hair out of Lucas’ eyes, gazing into them like he was worried he would forget what they looked like if he glanced away even for a moment. “One day we’ll forget each other, you know? We’ll forget the nights like these and maybe even forget that we ever loved each other at all.” He finally looked away, adding in a softer tone, “And that’s why.”

“Why what?”

Eliott blinked back up at him. “That’s why we should go out with a bang right now, while we can still remember the taste of each other.”

Lucas stilled, not daring to look away. “Stop saying things like that,” he said with a quaver in his voice. What the hell was Eliott saying?

Eliott merely laughed. Lucas put Eliott’s face into his hands, steeling his voice before he spoke. “Eliott I’m serious. Why are you so certain we won’t last, or that the only way to be together is to die together?”

“Because I know that you’ll stop loving me. It’s not a matter of if, but when. I guess I’d rather be gone before we get to when,” Eliott said simply. Lucas tore his hands away, turning over to face the other side of the bed so Eliott wouldn’t see him cry.

“Hey.” Eliott patted the back of his head. “Hey. Lucas.”

Lucas didn’t answer, didn’t trust himself to. A single tear leaked down from his left eye and he brushed it away hastily, trying to make it look like he was just adjusting his sleeping position.

Eliott’s head appeared above him, and it took all of his willpower not to look up into Eliott’s eyes and get lost in them. “Lucas, I’m joking.”

“But why would you even say something like that? I told you that you’re my forever, at least I’d like you to be, but you still don’t believe me.” Was he sounding whiny? Did he even care at this moment? He was sick of Eliott doubting something he was sure of.

“Lucas,” Eliott said in a softer voice, “I’m sorry. I was joking.”

Lucas looked at him finally and was a bit taken aback by the grin on Eliott’s face. His tone had been earnest, but his face told a different story. It was almost like he just couldn’t keep a smile off his face, even though he was trying. “I’m sorry,” he said again, flopping back down on his side of the bed. Lucas turned back around to face him, but Eliott was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll try not to disturb you anymore,” Eliott said. Lucas reached for his hand, squeezed it tight, and closed his eyes, deciding that this whole conversation must have just been a dream or something. Maybe his brain was still a little blurry from all the champagne.

Samedi 3:02

Lucas I’m hungry.

Eliott, we ate so much food. How could you ever be hungry again after all that food.

Nope. I’m hungry. I want pain au chocolat, don’t you? You never got that dessert I promised.

Tomorrow. Come lie back down with me.

No, can’t do that.

Why not?

What if the world ends tomorrow? This might be our last chance to eat pain au chocolat.

Mmm. I’ll take my chances.

Or… maybe we’ll live forever. Maybe we shine so bright because we’re the stars personified. Maybe we’re gods wearing human skin. What am I the god of, do you think? I think you’re the god of the ocean. I mean, look at those eyes of yours. I could drown in them any day. I can drown in them any day, actually. Because you love me. Ha. You love me. What a fool you are. Don’t you know I’m broken beyond repair?

Eliott… is this a dream? Am I asleep?

Is anyone ever asleep?

Wha… what?

Maybe at our wedding everyone will be asleep the whole time. Or maybe we’ll be asleep. Ha! Bet that’s never been done before, an unconscious wedding. Not totally sure of the logistics, but we can work it out later.

Our wedding?

What, you don’t think we’re getting married? We’re definitely getting married. Right here in this room, actually. We’ll invite everyone in the entire wizarding world, livestream the whole thing on Instagram. Wait, no, can’t do that anymore. We’ll get married right here on this bed and we’ll be completely naked. Everyone will be, actually, like in the garden of Eden. Do wizards believe in the same God as muggles, I wonder? There should be some overlap, I suppose, but this brings me back to my earlier point. If God can make miracles happen, and wizards can too, doesn’t that make us gods? Or is that sacrilege? Whatever, I don’t care. Lucas?

Mmmmmm…

Lucas? You awake?

Eli…

Just as well. Get some beauty sleep, mon amour, c’est la fin de temps.

Wha…

C’est la fin de temps!

Samedi 3:26

The next time Lucas woke up, it wasn’t because of a gentle kiss or a soft murmur. Something crunched under him as he shifted, lifting his head blearily. “What the--”

There were papers strewn all over the bed, torn from a pad of paper provided by the hotel. Eliott was nowhere to be found, which snapped Lucas to attention immediately. Relax, he told himself, He’s probably just in the bathroom.

He turned on the lamp beside the bed to get a better look at the mess on the bed, blinking his eyes a few times to adjust to the new light. Grabbing the sheet of paper closest to him, he studied it a moment. It was simple enough, just a sketch of a hedgehog under the covers, thought bubble next to his head with a raccoon inside it. Lucas smiled, despite himself. Maybe this was part of Eliott’s surprise, he’d made drawings for Lucas to wake up to earlier in the night or something.

When he grabbed the next one, his brows furrowed slightly. There was a raccoon standing in the middle of the street, smiling jubilantly, but no hedgehog in sight. Was this supposed to be some sort of scavenger hunt or something? Eliott wasn’t outside now, was he?

With more urgency, Lucas grabbed a handful of drawings, flipping through them as quickly as he could. A raccoon at the top of the astronomy tower, a hedgehog lying in a field of flowers with a raccoon taking a photo, a raccoon covered in what Lucas assumed was paint wearing a panicked expression, an animal Lucas didn’t recognize talking to a raccoon who was hidden in a box inside himself. When Lucas got to the last piece of paper in his hands, his heart stopped. There were no drawings on it, just words written-- no, scribbled-- onto the paper. C’est la fin des temps. Why did that sound so familiar? Why was Eliott writing about the end of time?

Something clicked in his brain. A conversation that had felt like a dream. Had it actually happened? Eliott hadn’t been making any sense at all, which was why he’d decided it must have been a dream. Eliott had been talking about gods, and getting married and how it was indeed la fin des temps.

Fuck. Something was seriously wrong. Where the hell was Eliott? Lucas scooped up his clothes from where they laid in a pile on the floor, tugging them on in a hurry. Heart sinking further, he realized Eliott’s clothes were still there as well. Did that mean Eliott was still in the suite? It was eerily quiet. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He checked every room in the suite twice, three times, really beginning to panic. Only taking the time to grab his phone and Eliott’s clothes, he ran out of the room, not even sure if he’d closed the door behind him or not. The elevators were slow, why were they so fucking slow? His wand felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, unusable. Why the fuck did he have to be seventeen to use magic outside of school? Not that magic would help much right now, but maybe his patronus could provide a bit of comfort. Maybe his hedgehog could find Eliott’s raccoon.

The elevator finally opened up to the lobby, and Lucas took off at a run once more, sparing a glance at the concierge, the same one as earlier. He backtracked, rushing to her desk. She seemed to know exactly what he was going to ask.

“When?”

“About ten minutes ago.”

“Fuck!” He slammed his hand on the desk and she startled. “Fuck,” he said, softer this time, “I’m so sorry… I just… did he say where he was going?”

She shook her head, eyes still wide and worried. She gulped, gaze flickering to her desk before meeting his once again. He could only imagine how he looked. “I should let you know, I called the police.”

“You what?” Maybe he’d misheard her.

“He ran outside naked, yelling about how it was the end of time, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. I don’t think he, or those around him, are safe right now.” Her voice was cold, collected, no matter what her eyes said. Lucas opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. Instead, he ran out into the night, the night that had been so welcoming, so perfect, just hours earlier.

Samedi 3:55

He didn’t know how long he’d been running, where he was even running to. Eliott was still nowhere to be found. He’d called Eliott’s phone nearly thirty times, sent to voicemail every single time. He didn’t have a way to contact Eliott’s parents, which seemed crazy now that he thought about it. Sure, he couldn’t have anticipated anything like this happening, whatever this was, but he should have had some way to contact Eliott’s parents and get their help.

He sank to his knees where he stood on the sidewalk, all the thoughts in his head becoming too overwhelming. What if something had happened to Eliott? He could be dead for all Lucas knew. C’est la fin des temps. C’est la fin des temps. Had he meant the end of all time or just his? Was he at risk of hurting himself? Lucas would never forgive himself if something had happened and he was too stupid and lovesick to read the signs.

His phone buzzed in his hand, and he brought it to his ear immediately, not even checking to see who was calling.

“Is this Lucas?” said a voice he didn’t recognize. Lucas glanced down at the caller ID, seeing a number he didn’t recognize, but knew that it was Parisian.

“Yes,” he answered, or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t sure if any of this was even happening, hoped and prayed that it wasn’t and he was still sleeping soundly in bed beside Eliott.

“Oh, thank god. Where are you?” The person breathed out a sigh of relief.

Lucas swallowed once. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Shit, sorry. It’s Idriss. Imane’s brother.” Idriss. Yeah, he knew Idriss. Why was Idriss calling him? Wasn’t he supposed to be visiting Imane right now? “Lucas, you still there?” Idriss asked.

Lucas nodded before realizing Idriss couldn’t see him, trying to verbalize to the best of his ability. “Yes. I’m here. Sorry, but I don’t have time to talk right now--” he broke down into ragged sobs. “--I don’t-- I don’t know what’s happening-- I don’t know what to do-- he’s gone--”

“Lucas, Lucas, slow down, breathe,” Idriss said, voice soothing and slow. Lucas tried to follow Idriss’ instructions as he spoke them through the phone, steadying his breathing to a point where get could speak in full sentences.

“Better?” Idriss asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” A pause. “Eliott’s with us, Lucas.”

Lucas’ pulse spiked again. That shouldn’t have been possible. They were at Hogwarts. Eliott wouldn’t just abandon Lucas in Paris. He’d promised never to leave without telling Lucas where he was going. “I-- what?”

“He’s at Hogwarts, with us. He’s safe, in the hospital wing.”

“Fuck!” Lucas yelled, nearly at the top of his lungs, he could feel himself starting to panic again. Eliott had brought him to Paris through side-along apparition, how was he supposed to get back?

Eliott had abandoned him.

“Hey, hey, Lucas, it’s ok. Just tell us where you are. Sofiane is seventeen, passed his apparition test, he can come get you.” Idriss spoke like he was trying to make sure Lucas wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown which, at this point, seemed likely.

Lucas pressed his forehead to the concrete, not even realizing that he’d somehow ended up lying on the ground completely. “I don’t know where I am.”

Idriss, thankfully, had a solution to that too. “Send your location to this phone, I’ll let Sofiane borrow it to come find you, ok? Just stay where you are, and breathe. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” Lucas wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. Idriss assured him that everything would be ok, though he didn’t feel inclined to agree. Regardless, he thanked Idriss and said goodbye, sending his location as instructed and waited for someone to save him.

Samedi 4:10

“Lucas? Can you stand up for me?”

A shadow loomed over Lucas from where he still laid on the ground, frozen and numb. This must be Sofiane. Lucas tried to move his legs, arms, anything, but he couldn’t. It was like everything inside him had shut down.

Weakly, he shook his head, not knowing if Sofiane could even see the motion or not. A hand slipped under his shoulder, another under his leg and he flinched slightly before he realized Sofiane was picking him up off the ground. The action brought him back into himself enough to figure out how to move his body again, swinging his legs from Sofiane’s grip to stand on his own. They nearly gave way beneath him, but Sofiane held onto his hands for support.

“You’re ok. Everything will be ok,” Sofiane said with such sincerity that Lucas really wanted to believe him. He finally found the strength to look at Sofiane’s face and woah. Given different circumstances, he definitely would have taken the time to appreciate Sofiane, who was the second most beautiful person Lucas had ever seen.

“I’m going to apparate with you now. All you have to do is hold onto me,” Sofiane explained, but Lucas shook his head.

“I have to go back to the hotel… I don’t know if Eliott paid… We might still have some things there, I don’t know.”

Sofiane leveled him with a stare. “It can wait. Idriss or I can go sort it out in the morning. Ok?”

Lucas gave in, too weak to argue. “Ok.”

Sofiane’s apparition was so smooth Lucas hardly registered that it was happening. He let his mind go completely blank as they moved from place to place before resting upon the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade.

Neither one of them said a word as they made their way up to the castle. Lucas had a million questions he wanted to ask, but didn’t know where to start. Sofiane seemed to be on a similar wavelength, so the walked on in silence.

Manon was waiting at the door when they walked in, Imane a few paces away with someone that Lucas assumed was Idriss. She folded him into a hug the moment she saw him, tears staining her cheeks. “Lucas, we were so worried. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he sobbed, wrapping his arms around her so tightly he was worried he might hurt her. He loosened his grip a bit, but she just tightened hers in response. When she let go he turned to Idriss. “He’s in the hospital wing?”

Idriss nodded. “Yeah, but Lucas, I don’t know if you should--”

He ignored Idriss, brushing past them all and storming down the hall, not caring if any of the teachers or ghosts caught him out at this hour. He wondered vaguely if Eliott had gotten in trouble with the school, wondered vaguely if he’d been expelled from Beauxbatons for a similar reason.

A girl Lucas didn’t recognize exited the hospital wing as Lucas approached, short hair ruffling as she walked. He nearly brushed right past her until he realized she was trying to approach him, holding out a hand to his chest. “Not now,” she said, gesturing to the door.

Who the hell was she to tell him what to do? “Why?”

“It’s not good for him right now.”

He rolled his eyes. “And who are you to say?”

“I’m Lucille,” she said, eyes turning sad, “He hasn’t talked about me?”

“Once,” he said, examining the girl further now that he knew who she was. Why did she think she had any authority over Eliott? “I suppose you know what’s going on then?”

He knew he was being rude, but he really didn’t give a shit. Lucille dropped one hand from his chest, looking taken aback. “He hasn’t told you, has he?”

“Told me what?” This was getting infuriating.

“He’s bipolar, Lucas.”

He blinked in surprise and took a step back. So many things made more sense now. How he’d reacted when Lucas had talked about his mentally ill mother, the times he’d insisted he would ruin things between them, how he never seemed to believe that he wasn’t broken. Coming back into himself, he stared right into Lucille’s eyes. “Ok. I don’t know why that means I can’t see him.”

Her face softened. “He’s manic right now, Lucas. He shouldn’t be seeing anyone, he needs time to come down.”

“No,” Lucas argued, “I should be there for him, let him know I’ll always be there. I-- I love him. If I’m there, maybe he’ll believe me.”

The look Lucille gave him was almost pitying. “Lucas… I’m sure you do love him, and I’m sure he has feelings for you, but sometimes his judgement can be a bit clouded, like it is now. Things he’s said or done for you might be his illness talking, not him.”

Was she trying to say that Eliott didn’t actually love him? “Did Eliott tell you that?”

Eliott abandoned you, a voice screamed in his mind.

“No, but I’ve known him long enough to know that this is how it goes. Didn’t he tell you why he was expelled?”

He shook his head faintly, feeling sick. Eliott didn’t love him. If he did, he would have felt like he could trust Lucas with this part of him. The fact that he hadn’t said anything confirmed everything Eliott had been telling him all night: that this was never going to last.

Lucas took a step back, Lucille’s other hand slipping from his chest. He shook his head, trying to make it all make sense. Before Lucille could say another word, Lucas turned around and stormed away, not looking back once. When he passed Idriss, Manon, Sofiane, and Imane, he didn’t acknowledge them, taking the stairs two at a time. He didn’t know what to think.

Eliott had been right after all, it was the end of time, but not for the world.

For them.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

AO3

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