#sorry i haven’t even finished the drama but i see him. i see the truth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years ago

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Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.

#ticci toby #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #x reader #reader insert #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #toby creepypasta

150 notes · View notes

sturchling · 4 years ago

Note

A maribat no pairing needed but if you want one you can write it in. But basically Marinette goes to Gotham and stays with the bat family. Bruce is leaving hits he is Batman so he can help Marinette with being ladybug

Sorry for the wait! Hope you like it! I decided to make this one a little more funny with a completely oblivious Marinette. Sorry if you don't like her being this oblivious, just wanted to have some fun with this one. I really liked that idea and thought it was funny. I hope you like it too, I had a lot of fun writing it!

Marinette was so excited she was shaking. She had just gotten word that she had been accepted into an exchange student program with Gotham Academy. Not only would she be able to get away from Lila and the drama with the class, but she may also be able to find Batman and get some help with tracking down Hawkmoth. Marinette would be hosted by the Wayne family, who was sponsoring this whole program. Marinette was impressed by Mr. Wayne's generousity. It is really generous of Mr. Wayne to set up and fund this whole program. He must be a really nice man. Marinette wasn't going waste this opportunity. She would enjoy her time in America, and she would definitely find Batman before the program was over!

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Bruce really hoped this crazy plan worked. He had learned several weeks ago about a blog based out of Paris called the Ladyblog. It mainly posted a bunch of nonsense about a girl named Lila who was clearly a liar. But that wasn't what caught his attention. What caught his attention was a few stories posted between the interviews with the liar. These posts were about something called 'akuma attacks' and a supervillain named Hawkmoth who had been terrorizing Paris for years now. At first, Bruce just thought it was more nonsense, like the posts about the liar. But to be safe, he looked into it more, and was astonished to find out it was the truth. He learned everything Hawkmoth had done, all the different akumas, and about the local heroes: Ladybug and Chat Noir.

-------------------

He was shocked to see that the heroes defending Paris were just kids. And while they have done great on their own, Bruce could tell they haven't had any kind of combat training. If they go up against an akuma with real training, they would be at a significant disadvantage. Plus, they would likely not have any good strategy to discover Hawkmoth's identity. Even if they keep winning against the akumas, they have to find and beat Hawkmoth or this madness will never end. He resolved in that moment to find these kids and help them. He focused on Ladybug and started to figure out her civilian ID. It took a few weeks, but he eventually found out she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She always disappeared once Ladybug appeared, and there were a few times that a security camera would see her duck into an alley, and then a few moments later, Ladybug would emerge. Once he knew her identity, he began to plan.

----------------------

He decided the easiest way to get her to Gotham would likely be something regarding school. At first he thought of a class trip for her whole class, but decided against it. That idea wouldn't work with the rest of his plan. Instead, he set up a student exchange program with Gotham Academy. He would host the student that was selected at his manor for the duration of the program and fund the entire thing. The academy didn't think anything of it, used to Mr. Wayne's charitable acts for the school. His one condition was that he got to choose the student. The academy agreed, it only made sense since Mr. Wayne was funding the program and would host the student as well.

--------------------

Mr. Wayne made sure that the news of the program made it to Paris and was heavily advertised. He even sent the information to Ms. Dupain-Cheng's school. He was sure that she would learn about it and apply quickly. Ms. Dupain-Cheng had seemed like an ambitious student from what he had found so far, so the offer of studying in America would be tempting. Plus if she was as clever as she seemed, based off her actions as Ladybug, then he was sure she would want to come and try to meet with Batman. It didn't take long for Marinette's application to cross his desk. As he approved her application and typed up her acceptance email, he smiled and began the next phase of his plan.

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Bruce knew that Marinette would be very concerned if he approached her about being Ladybug outright. It would be best if she approached him. And here was the problem. She wouldn't approach him, she would only approach Batman. So he needed to have her figure out that he was Batman. He didn't want her to transform into Ladybug and look around Gotham for him. That could cause people back in Paris to figure out her identity, if Ladybug appeared in Gotham at the same time as Marinette. And if Hawkmoth figured it out, that would be horrible. And if Marinette went looking for Batman in her civilian form, it could be really dangerous. Instead, Bruce and his sons were going to make it painfully obvious who they were. They would leave all their equipment out in plain view, all their case files out, he was even going to park the Batmobile outside in the driveway (out of sight of the gates of course, he doesn't want anyone but Marinette to find out his identity). Short of walking around in their costumes, they would do everything they could.

-------------------

Bruce's sons were excited. They didn't have to be careful about their identities around her which was a plus, and after learning that Marinette fighting Hawkmoth with only Chat Noir for consistent help, they were more than ready to help them with the Hawkmoth problem. They had also made bets on how long it would take her to figure it out, and which member of the family would be the one to give it away. They were ready for Marinette to arrive.

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Marinette had arrived about a week ago, and Bruce's plan was in full effect. But, surprisingly, Marinette hadn't figured it out. She spent most of her time out, walking around Gotham. She had told the Waynes that she was familiarizing her self with the city and also gathering inspiration for her designs. In reality, she was focused on finding Batman. So focused in fact, that she missed all the clues that the Waynes were leaving her. She had walked right past the Batmobile, hardly giving it a second glance. She had picked up some casefiles sitting at the dining table, and instead of reading, or even just looking at them, she just handed them to Bruce and finished setting the table. She had walked in on Jason cleaning his guns in the living room, and instead of commenting on that, just sat down and turned on the TV. At one point, she even came into the gym and found Dick doing an acrobatic routine that only Nightwing would be able to do, all while Tim and Jason were sparing, and Damian was sharpening his sword. They were sure this would get her attention. But Marinette didn't even notice. She just got on a treadmill, put in her headphones and started running. They boys just stared at her. They were shocked that she could be so oblivious.

------------------------

While Marinette was out walking around Gotham, looking for Batman again, the Batfam was having a meeting at the manor. They couldn't believe that Marinette hadn't figured it out yet. At least Bruce could definitely prove that his secret ID was better than Clark's. Marinette's been living with him for months now, with them actively trying to reveal their secret to her, and she still couldn't figure it out. They were running out of ideas and time. The program ended in a few weeks and they had done everything they could think of. Except for one thing. They hadn't thought they would have to be so obvious, but it was clear that Marinette would figure it out any other way.

----------------------

So, that is how they found themselves coming up from the Batcave, in full costume, making a lot of noise to draw Marinette's attention as she sat watching TV in the living room. Marinette came around the corner and looked at them. Marinette's eyes grew wide, and she just stared. The Waynes were sure she finally figured it out. Finally, she broke the silence, saying "Nice costumes guys! You look just like the real Batfam. Nice attention to detail!" Then she just went back into the living room, leaving the Batfam frozen in disbelief.

--------------------

Bruce decided enough was enough, and the family went into the living room, still in costume, and told Marinette their secret directly. She was pretty surprised. She had been so consumed with looking for Batman around Gotham, she never even thought she might be living with him. The night continued for a long time after that. Marinette revealed her secret and the Waynes revealed they had known all along. They told her that they had seen her using the horse miraculous to go back to Paris for an akuma battle, which that may not have been how they figured her out, but they had seen that too. After all the reveals were done, the group spent the rest of the night focused on Hawkmoth and how to track him. Tim got to work immediately and was sure he would have an answer soon, though it may be after she went back to Paris. The rest of Marinette's time in Gotham was spent training how to fight properly, and how to find better places to transform. Marinette soon went back to Paris, armed with better fighting skills, and the knowledge that she now had Batman as an ally in the fight against Hawkmoth.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic #maribat #ml x dc #miraculous x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #oblivious marinette #maribat fic #maribat fanfic

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jungxk · 4 years ago

Text

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

4 years ago

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold.

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces.

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed.

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

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idontblushsrry · 4 years ago

Text

Request fic

Anon asked:

Would you do a Hiei from YYH fic where Hiei and the reader are in "will they won't they" stage since they clearly like each other but she's not going to push Hiei and Hiei wants to ignore his feelings but he can't once he gets blatantly jealous when Shishiwakamaru makes a comment about her during the Dark Tournament after she turns him down for "not being her type"?

A/N: I kinda messed with somethings because I haven’t seen Dark Tournament in a hot minute.

Word Count: 1624

“Hiei, you’re glaring again.”

“Shut it Kurama. I’m not glaring, merely observing.”

An exasperated Kurama smiles at his friend who despite, verbal assurances that he was “merely observing” seemed to be growing increasingly irritated. Demonic aura rolling off his friend in waves as Hiei’s hand twitched to grab his sword.

The object of Hiei’s ire stood there completely unaware of the death looming over his head. Or maybe, he was all too aware. Shishiwakamaru had no issues when it came to taunting his rival team. You were no exception, the fact that you happened to actually catch Shishi’s eye was nothing more than icing on the cake.

The fact that Hiei looked ready to turn him into a sword sheath made this interaction all the more sweet.

All the while, you were caught in the crossfire between the 2 demons’ mind game/ ego contest. You continued your conversation with Shishiwakamaru out of pure politeness, every question he asked, you answered bored and disinterested, each answer getting shorter and shorter as time stretched on. To be truthful, you’d rather be back at the hotel, you were wasting the team’s precious training time by being here. You tried to shoo them off but Kurama insisted for the sake of being a gentleman and Hiei stayed because he wanted to “scope out the competition”.

Now the competition had more than ended and neither of them had any real valid reason to remain here, demons long gone, any stragglers you’d be more than able to avoid on your way back to the hotel. But you figured the same reason you were still here was why Hiei stayed around. Kurama probably just stayed behind to make sure Hiei didn’t add any extra charges to their long list of crimes.

“If you’re done wasting oxygen, Shishi, we’d like to head back now.”, Hiei, fed up with Shishi’s persistence speaks.

“If you’ll excuse me, your presence is no longer required. I can escort my Y/N back to the hotel if you’re that busy.”, Shishiwakamaru was all too aware of the underlining irritation in Hiei’s voice, more potent than his usual cadence.

That seemed to be the tipping point for Hiei because he grabbed his sword and nearly lopped off Shishiwakamaru’s head if it weren’t for Kurama placing a hand on his shoulder with a look that said ‘save it for the arena.’

Alright, this had gone on long enough, “Actually Shishi, I was thinking of heading back with them, it’s getting kinda late and I don’t wanna be here at night with just you...”, you mumbled the last part out a little awkwardly and gestured towards the exit where Hiei and Kurama stood.

Your “excellent” moderator skills seemed to have worked though because Shishi didn’t put up a fight. He smiled at you before gently taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on the palm of it. “Until we meet again Y/N, you hold my heart in your hands.” With a final smile directed at you, ignoring the way Hiei’s glare intensified, he walked away, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of his actions.

The aftermath being one pissed off fire demon named Hiei.

As you all made your way back to the hotel, you could tell that Hiei was very pointedly, ignoring you. He trailed behind you and Kurama before completely disappearing into the trees going who knows where.

The walk back with Kurama was silent but not unpleasant. You were mainly lost in your own thoughts, Kurama offered you a sympathetic smile but otherwise didn’t bother you. Any advice he could’ve given you would be repetitive, the both of you being closest to Hiei and knowing how he operates.

Upon coming back to the hotel, you note with nary a concern that Team Urameshi’s common room was completely empty. Fine, you needed to be alone with your thoughts anyways. All you wanted was tea, after that, you’d leave.

It did not appear that the universe was on your side as Botan appeared by your side with a cattish grin that said she’d found a new piece of drama to prey upon.

“So, Y/N, me and the girls were playing truth or dare. Since everyone else is out, we were wondering if you’d like to join us?”

She said that all too innocently, it seemed she was either trying to lower your guard or she’d finally put her paws away. It did sound nice though, hanging out with Keiko, Yukina, Shizuru, and Botan in a situation more relaxing than hoping your boys don’t die every time they go out to fight.

“I’m sorry, I have to say no. I’m feeling a little tired from today and honestly, I’m just gonna pass out on the nearest surface, preferably a bed.”

She looked a bit disappointed, but understanding. “It’s just that I wanted you to see that Yusuke’s spirit beast had finally hatched.”

“Oh, good for him, but I’m sure I can see it tomorrow. Aren’t the best things worth waiting for?” She looked a bit confused at your usage of the quote and you took that as an opportunity to leave. As interesting as Yusuke’s spirit beast sounds, you honestly were hoping to wait up for Hiei so you could talk to him about today.

Mind made up, you sped to your room, catching the faintest sight of a black puff of hair atop a blue...blob, before closing the door. You set your tea down to let it cool while you changed into your sleepwear. Pacing all the while and triple checking that your curtains were pulled back and your window was open.

“Why do you look so nervous?”

The sound of Hiei’s voice causes you to jump up in fear, tea cup almost spilling and dropping to the floor as a result. You turn around and see Hiei, perched on the windowsill, as dramatic as ever but also as serene as he’d ever been.

“Hiei, y-you’re here.”, a little caught off guard, you beam at the sight of him.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”, he states that as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, the implied affection doesn’t go unnoticed by you either. He jumps down from the window and enters your room, but that’s it. He puts his hands in his pocket and makes no moves to get closer to you beyond that.

Is he-? It’s faint but if you squint and the moonlight hits him just right, you could swear he was blushing. Hiei? Blushing?? You must be more tired than you thought because in what world does Hiei blush?

He opens his mouth to say something before closing it and you’re reminded, this is the world where Hiei blushes. The same world that forced him to compete in a tournament that could cost him his life. And the same world where he cares for you and you him but neither of you acting upon it.

“Hiei I-”

“Y/N look-”

At that you both laugh, feeling some of the tension in the room ease a bit after doing so. You try to urge Hiei to go first but he insists you speak, so you do.

“I just wanted to say that I don’t have any feelings for Shishiwakamaru.”, you figured being blunt would be the best approach, Hiei appreciated it despite him being one of the most roundabout people you knew, “You know I only have eyes for you right?”

At your honest admission, Hiei looks a little guilty, eyes flitting about the room before settling back on you. His blush intensifies as a pout forms on his face, “I know that, I’m not an idiot like Kuwabara.”

Despite him looking like he wants you to finish this conversation for him, you remain silent. He had more that he needed to say to you, even if he didn’t know it.

His eyes took another trip around the room and he fixed you with a glare that said ‘seriously?’. You just smiled innocently and waited for him to continue.

“Listen Y/N because I’m going to say this once.”, he clears his throat, standing up straight and removing his hands from his pockets to point at you. “I find that you’re more tolerable than others. If I let my guard around you...I trust that you’d watch over me.” As soon as he finished, he looked away and plopped onto the floor, legs crossed.

You tensed the slightest bit, this subject was new to both of you, before forcing your body to move and making your way across the room to Hiei. You sat in front of him and placed a daring hand atop his.

To your relief, he didn’t seem opposed and even tangled his fingers in yours. Now both of you were staring into each other’s eyes, waiting for someone to make a move or say something.

An unrestrained smile broke out across your face as you savored the feeling of Hiei’s hand in yours, the warmth of his calloused hands sending a fresh stream of butterflies up your arm and into your stomach.

Hiei smiled too, a smaller one than yours but the happiness in his eyes more than making up the difference. It seemed like the two of you would sit there lovesick forever until Hiei, in an unprecedented show of boldness, leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss onto your lips.

It was clumsy, too firm at one point and angle a bit awkward, but it was so remarkably Hiei. The kiss was so brief that you were left dazed and wanting for more.

Hiei didn’t oppose when you pulled him in for another kiss, nor did he oppose the many that followed.

#yu yu hakusho imagine #yu yu hakusho imagines #yu yu hakusho x reader #hiei x reader #hiei imagines #hiei imagine #yu yu hakusho hiei #yyh hiei #x reader #x black reader #idontblushsrry

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movedto-erodasghosts · 4 years ago

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silence

moved to @erodasghosts

a spinoff fic for perennial by @peeterparkr. i highly recommend reading it :)

pairing: tom holland x reader / timothée chalamet x reader

need to know: this could be read alone but i highly suggest reading perennial! for background... tom and y/n were childhood enemies that ended up falling for one another over time, but tom ended up breaking things off. y/n met and dated timmy at a vulnerable time, and he seemed to be the perfect answer to her problems. emma is timmy’s friend, y/n’s too. rome is where tom truly broke y/n’s heart for the first time, and that is what led to her ending up with timmy. timmy had proposed to y/n, but she wasn’t sure about where her feelings were. y/n wrote a script about it all, talking about the heartbreak she experienced through it, which led to the second huge downfall in their relationship and so she ran to LA to give tom space... i think that is all? and that’s what you missed on glee :)

description: tom broke y/n’s heart, again, and timothée wants to be there to help her

warning/s: none

word count: ~6.2k

a/n: a huge thanks to nancy for letting me write this and for helping me so much to write it! also i am bad at fic titles so :)

check out my other fic based off of perennial/perfidy

masterlist

not my gif

It was hard to tell what was worse, the pain of knowing she had broken his heart or the burning she still felt rising from beneath her scars that he had left on her after Rome. She wasn’t quite sure why she still felt this need to blame herself, as if there was only one person to blame, but it was easier to accept it was all her fault.

Y/n’s job at the flower shop was meant to help distract her, to give her something to focus on other than what had happened with Tom. In reality, she had just zoned out for the most part, absentmindedly piecing together bouquets together. In an attempt to actually distract herself she decided she would learn the meanings of the different flowers, though she wasn’t sure how well it was sticking.

She carefully rearranged the flowers in front of her, listening as Timothée spoke on. How long had she been working on that same bouquet? Seemed like seconds, but at the same time hours. Getting lost in her own thoughts and paying little to no attention to the things around her seemed to become easier and easier for her to do. She was still processing the things she had said to Tom, and the things that he said in return, so not much else appeared to matter.

Going to LA had been the perfect opportunity for her to get away, she needed to give him space. A part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right choice. Emma would of course catch her in these moments, soon after taking her to try some new distraction. Undoubtedly, nothing was working as a real distraction, though. Actively avoiding thinking about the situation only made her think about it more. Facing it head on wasn’t really possible, as there was no way Tom would be reaching out to her, or that she would be reaching out for him again. She had no other choice, it seemed, than to sit in her pain and accept the truth of her actions.

“Y/n?” Tim tapped her shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Her eyes refocused as she finished the flower arrangement and pulled herself out of her thoughts, “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Tim smiled weakly, trying to offer even the smallest bits of sympathy. He glanced at her bouquet, “I was just wondering if you wanted to go to that old ice cream stand after your shift ends?”

“That’d be great!” Emma chimed in, “Y/n, you can leave early and I’ll take over.”

“Oh, I--

“You’re going,” Emma said sternly as she raised a brow. “It’s close by, and you’ve hardly been anywhere other than the apartment and shop for days.”

Maybe that was true, but y/n didn’t want to think about it, not really. Emma was doing what she could to give different forms of distraction, hoping something might stick. They were both healing from a pain, and Emma had decided to run from her own. She wouldn’t force y/n into some form of coping that she didn’t want to try, but she was doing what worked for her, even as she was becoming less and less sure of just how effective it was.

“Emma, come on.” Tim leaned against the counter, “She doesn’t have to go.”

“She needs to,” she took a hold of y/n’s shoulders, leading her to the other side of the counter and grabbing Tim along her way. “It’ll be quick, it’s blazing hot out today and I expect the two of you to bring me back pasta from that one dinner.”

“Anything else, your majesty?” Y/n joked, a playful smile growing on her lips. She figured it was hopeless to fight Emma on whether she should go or not.

“Yes, actually. If you’re going to end up going on one of your…” Emma wiggled her fingers at the pair, “Tim and y/n walks, don’t bother with the pasta. It’ll just be… gross.” Her nose scrunched at the thought.

Tim chuckled, “Tim and y/n walks?”

“You know, where you get side tracked by some perfectly placed distraction, end up taking a long walk and talking about life and all of it’s drama and woes. Suddenly, the rain begins to fall!” Emma dramatically trickled her fingers down like rain. “Oh, but there is something else distracting you, and it’s worth getting caught in the rain. All of this, and not to mention you haven’t even made it to your initial destination.”

“Okay, okay. I think we get the point.” Tim pushed Emma’s hands down, “No need for the theatrics.”

“Ironic coming from you, hmm?” Emma grinned.

“You’re right!” Y/n interrupted them, gaining both of their attention. “I could use a quick trip like that. Maybe it’ll pull me out of this...” she sighed, “maybe it’ll be the perfect distraction.

Neither Tim nor Emma really bought it, they both knew distractions didn’t work for y/n, no matter how much Emma wished they would. But they would take what they could at that point, unsure of what else they could really try.

“Thank you,” Emma took her place behind the counter. “I’ll see you two later, then.”

She had been right, y/n did need to get out and do something other than work, even if it was something so small as a walk for ice cream. She was doing herself no favors sitting around and thinking on and on about what could’ve been, or even what was. Her regrets would stick with her no matter what she did, though.

Emma’s distractions could only do so much, and their effects would only last for so long. Y/n wasn’t sure that she could just forget what had happened, and she was less sure that she had even wanted to forget. It was what Emma had claimed to be the best solution, to just let it go and move on like you weren’t coming out of a life changing relationship, if that’s what it could be called. But nothing about forgetting seemed easier than living with the pain. Where would one even start with forgetting, y/n had wondered.

She could start with forgetting his touch and how the butterflies in her stomach would flutter every time he reached out for her. Or, maybe it would be easier to forget the way she would catch him gazing over with a philomathic look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t take enough of her in. She could forget about the late nights, hidden away from everyone else, just the two of them as they fell further back into one another’s arms, getting much too comfortable it seemed. Maybe, though, it would be easiest to start with forgetting all the damage she had done to him.

To let go of her guilt she would have to let go of all the things that reminded her of the love in their relationships, and to let go of all of the gentle, loving memories she would have to let go of her guilt.

Holding onto the pieces that were good only caused her to feel a stronger guilt, as if she didn’t have the right to hold on anymore. She knew what it felt like to be broken by someone that you put so much of yourself into, she still remembered when Tom had actually been the one to break her heart. That’s what Emma couldn’t understand about the guilt she had been feeling. Why would she feel any guilt when Tom broke her first, and one would argue that he had with more intention.

Still, y/n felt this endless stinging pain telling her it was all her fault striking her every night since she left for LA. Had she not said the things she did about him this issue would be nonexistent. She felt what she said, though, every bit of it. Tom broke her. He had been the one to leave her feeling like a fool, as if he could ever love someone like her. Tom had given her false hope time and time again that he would give her the love she dreamed of with him. And, despite it all, she had still said that he was the one. The one that she would always end up falling back to. The one that she would always love, over herself it even seemed.

And he had given her the chance to live her dreams with him again. The chance to love him, the chance to let herself become comfortable around him, the chance to fall in love again. And they had fallen in love, Tom seemed to let it stick this time around too. Then she said what she felt about him before. She brought up her feelings of betrayal and distrust, and he took them out of context and ran with the idea that she still pictured him as this monster that simply shattered her heart. But she didn’t explain herself, and how could she? They were all things that she had thought of him before.

But he proved it all to be wrong, and she had said that too. She said that he showed her love in a light she never imagined she would experience first hand, and that he had made her find love in things that she always found easier to cover with shame. He made her a better person, above everything else. Above the pain he had inflicted, he had been much more loving in his ways now. And she took that from him. She reminded him of who he had been, and pointed out pain he never even knew he had caused. She made him second guess himself, just as he had done to her before.

She couldn’t let go of the memories of how he made her feel loved. She had to use them to remind herself that she took that love away from him, that she was finally in the place she always wished to be in with him and she took it away from herself. They were no longer memories of peace and security, they were memories used to inflict pain while reminding herself of what she had done.

It was more than she didn’t want to forget. It was that she couldn’t forget, she would never allow herself to.

So, Emma’s distractions weren’t of use to y/n, it wasn’t what she was looking for. She was looking for all the reasons she could find to aim the blame on herself. She would sit and think of all of their memories together, connecting them with some reason as to why that was just another piece of how she led to breaking his heart.

She wondered, too, if she possibly hurt him more by going to LA. She was curious if he missed her in the way she missed him when her heart was broken by him. Did he stay up late into the nights, wondering when she might call? Waiting for her to return and pick up his broken pieces?

No, probably not. He wasn’t such a fool as she was. She had shattered his heart, he probably was doing all he could to forget she even existed, something similar to the way that Emma coped. But if he loved her, how would he forget her? The only thing that made y/n come to terms, at the very least, with the pain he caused her was meeting Timothée.

Tim gave her all the tools she needed to mend her heart when Tom had done his damage. He walked into her life at the right time, and he swore to never walk out. He offered her security, comfort. He fixed her broken heart, showed her how to love herself and others again.

Y/n feared Tom might find someone like Tim, someone to fix his shattered heart. It wouldn’t be bad, not really. In a way, she wished he might find someone like Timothée that could help him after what she had done, but at the same time she wanted him to confide in her. She wanted to offer Tom a solution to fix himself, she now had all the knowledge on how to do it from personal experience, she could share the information with him.

Instead, she gave him space, plenty of it. She went to LA to leave him be, feeling she had caused more than enough problems. And she had to learn how to love herself again, how to allow herself to feel deserving of it after doing something so cruel. And there Timothée was, offering his advice and care once again.

“Really, if you don’t want to go we can just go to the apartment,” Tim offered, holding the shop door open for her as they exited.

She shook her head, “No, I could use this.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “then off we go.”

He awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets as they made their way to the ice cream stand. Emma had known that y/n didn’t heal in the same way, and that she would rather sit in her feelings for some time, allowing everything to soak in, but Emma saw the way that she had also gotten to a point where she was no longer doing in a way to heal, but she was coming from a place of guilt. Tim saw it too, and he had come to an agreement with Emma that they needed to step in and to do what they could to help her.

No, Emma didn’t heal in the way that y/n did, but Tim would know how to help her. Emma saw the risk in this too, though. She knew that if Tim wasn’t careful he could easily over step, and it was something she worried could happen. She had warned him not to expect anything from y/n, and to not just cause her more pain, but this was a risk she had to take because no one knew y/n in the way that Tim did, not to Emma’s knowledge.

“So, what was that bouquet you were putting together?” Tim spoke, raising a brow out of curiosity.

“Umm... “ she paused to think. “I’m not completely sure, I’m still learning. I guess I was just putting together what worked, you know?”

He figured there was more to it than that though, she had seemed to be doing a lot of her speaking through flowers for the past few days. “I think I recognized Queen Anne’s lace? Forget-me-nots were in there, they can be…” he paused to think, “remembrance, right?”

“They can, yeah.” Y/n’s lips pressed together as she mumbled, “I think I could use a break from flowers,” she rubbed her palms together, “How’ve you been? I mean, I know we… kind of are living together and all, but… how are you?”

She hadn’t seen much of Tim or Emma, not really. They shared an apartment and passed one another daily but y/n had been so shut off that she couldn’t recall the last conversation she had with either of them. Another thing she would have to scold herself for. Emma and Tim didn’t mind, they took no offense, they knew she needed time, but she couldn’t help but feel guilt for not keeping up with them.

“I, umm…” Tim cleared his throat, “I’m doing good. You know, I think we all really needed LA.” I mean, we haven’t been here long, but I think it’s been good. I’m glad to be spending time with you again.”

She hadn’t thought about it much before, too wrapped up in her worries about Tom, but it had been a long time since she had spent time around Tim. And she had missed it, though she didn’t realize just how much she had.

Things with Tim were always so simple. He always had the right answers and the perfect words to say. There was this resting guilt she felt with him too, because he was so perfectly kind to her. He offered her all that he could, even now. She couldn’t understand why he was still there, why he would miss spending time with her, she must’ve shattered his heart as well.

It was beyond that with Tim, really. He had fixed her. He had cared for her when Tom decided he wouldn’t anymore. Tim helped her to become herself again, he introduced her to what a loving relationship meant. He gave her an example of what a boyfriend that only wanted their partner to be happy and well was like when Tom had broken all the expectations she had. And he had loved her, deeply.

It wasn’t clear to her why she couldn’t love him in the way that he loved her, she wished she had the answer. He was everything she needed, everything that one could ask for, and he had come into her life at just the right time, every single time. So she wasn’t sure why she left him, or why she had declined his proposal, and that frustrated her more. Timothée was the perfect partner, the easy answer. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t be with him.

He deserved better too, at least that’s what y/n believed. He deserved someone that would love him the same way that he would love them. Someone that wasn’t broken, or that hadn’t broken others before. Someone that didn’t depend so heavily on him to fix them only to be given nothing in return.

Tim didn’t want anything in return from her though, he only ever asked to have her love. And he said that he would wait, that he would give her the time and space to think of what she needed and what she really wanted. That’s how she ended up with Tom again, only to break his heart. It felt so childish to her that she bounced back and forth between the two, and she felt that she was dreadful for dragging the both of them into a time where she felt so indecisive. They both deserved better, though Tim might say Tom deserved much less than she offered him and Tom would say the same about him.

“You know, I…” Tim began, “I know that you’re going through a lot right now.” Emma wouldn’t want him to bring it up, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m sorry about how things went with him, truly.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she raised a hand to stop him. “Really, it’s fine.”

“No, but, I know you,” he smiled weakly. “You’ve been so quiet lately, and you’ve kept yourself in your room. I just…” He stopped walking, resting his hand on her shoulder to stop her too. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

She didn’t. It had all been her fault, he was only trying to make it easier for her but she had to acknowledge the truth. Or, her version of the truth.

“But it is, Tim.” She fiddled with one of her rings, doing what she could to avoid looking at him.

“No, y/n, it’s not. You didn’t want things to go that way, there was no way you could’ve known.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not my fault,” she muttered. “I mean, I finally was happy with him and then I had to—“

“Go and say how he made you feel?” He sighed, “Y/n, he… you said that he broke you, that…” he glanced, moving his hand back into his pocket. “You told me that he made you question if you were worth loving. He made you question the trust you put into other people, and he made you second guess yourself with everything. And I’m not… I’m not trying to attack him or to argue him versus me,” Emma would disagree. “But you said he broke you, and all you did was say how he made you feel. If he can’t handle that, maybe he never should’ve done it.”

Tim was frustrated too, and not just because she had, for whatever reason, fallen for Tom. It was more than that. He felt that it wasn’t fair that she would blame yourself for such a thing when Tom had truly broken her heart. Tom made her change who she was. She had to learn a new routine, to figure out how to love herself again, to allow herself to let others care for her. To Timothée, Tom was simply now paying the consequences of his actions. Why would anyone ever feel guilt over such a person?

“But I didn’t have to say those things…” her voice was weak, tired. “I didn’t have to say that he… that he ruined me. I mean, he showed me so much too, you know? He really… he made me feel loved too.”

“When? Before or after he broke your heart?” Tim questioned, “Oh, and was it before the first time he broke your heart, or the second time? I mean, he’s been horrible to you, y/n.” He rolled his eyes, irritated by the idea of forgiving Tom. “And, I mean… I thought you were like childhood enemies, right? He, c’mon, he always picked on you growing up, isn’t that what you said?”

He had. They had known each other all their lives, and for a majority of their time together they had only fought back and forth. And it was always about the smallest of things. He’d tell her the color of her dress looked horrible on her, or that her hair was a complete mess right before she was going for an interview. And she’d do just the same back to him, usually picking at him for his motormouth or inability to mind his business. But it was never ending, just the two eating away at each other nonstop.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I… it’s not my place to say anything about him really. I’m just trying to understand why you’re letting him take more of your time, especially when he couldn’t even be bothered to hear you out about your own feelings. He took what small information made him the victim and he ran with that.” He could feel the frustration rising again. “You wrote out how he made you feel, how he ruined you and turned your life upside down, and he has the nerve to act like he isn’t at fault here?”

Tom hadn’t finished reading everything she had written about him, only the most dreadful of words. Of course he was upset, having only read a portion of it. What Tim couldn’t understand is how Tom felt he had the right to be angry at y/n when he had read how Tom made her feel. Why did he think he could mad when seeing what damage he had caused her? How was that fair? And how was it fair that even after all of that damage, y/n still loved Tom, not that he would know because he had refused to read that far in.

“Why would he want to keep reading after what I said about him?” She pulled her arms closer against her chest. “If someone told you that you ruined them would you want to hear them out?”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. It was easy for him to say that he would hear her out, because that is what he truly felt he would do. But he wasn’t Tom, and Tim was more level headed than most people, always doing what he could to collect all the information possible.

Tim struggled with the entire situation because he couldn’t see what she saw, and he wanted to avoid the idea that Tom could be forgiven. Why forgive Tom at all when he wasn’t going to even try putting anything into the relationship? He so easily walked away, and once again there Timmy was to help her, not that she had even asked.

It wasn’t that Tim wanted to always have this fight of who was better, him or Tom, but he failed to see how overlooked his actions were. He offered her support, reassurance. He helped her pick herself up again, and he helped her remember that she was worth love. He only ever wanted her to be happy, and Tom seemed to always have a complete negative effect on her. She always walked away from Tom with tears in her eyes, searching for reasons as to why it was her fault when it wasn’t so simple. Had Tom been able to make her smile, and to make that smile last, Timmy wouldn’t mind so much, because at least then he would know she was happy.

“But why Tom? What has he done for you?” Tim turned his body to face her’s, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s proven that all he does is hurt you, time and time again, and yet you still feel this guilt? I just… why?”

“Because I… I can’t just forget about him. And maybe I should hate him, I know you think I should, but I can’t.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, moving to sit on a bench along the sidewalk. “I know he wasn’t always… kind to me, but I wasn’t to him either. And he did, he did show me this…” her breathing began to calm, “he showed me that I was worth something. He finally opened himself up to me, we finally could let our guards down. And it, for once, at least sometimes, it was like I didn’t have to fight for his attention, like it was just me and him.”

Timmy couldn’t picture Tom ever being capable of making her feel that way, he seemed too obsessed with himself and with this “competition” the pair had going on. He also couldn’t see why y/n would even want or care to have Tom’s attention in such a way, what did it matter when he was always so cruel? It wasn’t for him to understand, that’s what he had to say to himself. And one can’t exactly control their feelings and who they are directed towards, that was something Tim was getting to know too well.

“I know that Emma thinks I should just forget Tom, and that you wish I could just let him go, but what if it’s just not that easy?” She looked to him, searching for yet another answer she knew she wouldn’t find.

He stepped beside her, taking a seat too. “It’s not that easy, I know.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands folding together as he thought. “I know you don’t need me to point out all the things he did to you, but it…” he chuckled quietly… “it really sucks to watch you be in so much pain over a guy that-“ he stopped himself. “I hate to see you hurting.”

She knew Tim meant well, he only ever wanted what was best for her. She was well aware, too, that Tim didn’t have the full story of her relationship with Tom, it was something she wasn’t even sure she knew the whole story of.

Her mind had been malicious before, and a part of her knew that it was being overly judgmental in this case, but she refused to let the issue be chalked up to nothing more than cruel intentions from her childhood enemy. She felt at fault this time, as she couldn’t always simply blame Tom. To her, it was that she was now taking accountability for all of the damage she had caused him too. She had faced how he hurt her, and how it was something they both worked past, but now it was about what she had done to him. This was something, she figured, Tim could never understand.

“I appreciate that you want to be here for me, Emma too, but…” her hand rested on his arm, “I think this isn’t something you can help me come over. I need to work myself through it.”

She could always do with Tim’s advice, but she was getting tired of it when it came to Tom. It was the same thing over and over, about how none of it was her fault and about how Tom was disregarding her completely. Tim didn’t know everything, and he didn’t understand Tom in the way that y/n did. He didn’t have advice to offer that y/n needed, or wanted, to hear in the moment, and that was something he was becoming more and more aware of.

His gazed stayed forward, hand reaching back to rest on top of hers. “Okay, yeah. I get it, you need some more space?”

In a way she did need space, knowing no one really understood what she was going through. No one would see how the blame was on her, no one but Tom maybe. Everyone else wanted to paint Tom as the villain, and why wouldn’t they after everything she had said? No one knew about the butterflies, his philomathic gaze, or even the late nights spent in one another’s arms. No, people had only ever seen them at their worst.

Yes, she needed space, but she also needed a reminder that she was more than a screw up. More than the girl that walked in, destroyed a person’s life, and walked out. And she was more than that, much much more, but it was easier to convince herself that she was the problem.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

Tim wasn’t sure what other response he expected to hear, but it was so unsatisfactory to hear her confirm her own confliction. She didn’t want to be alone, but it’s what she felt she deserved.

“I…” she thought, “I want you to be here, but I need to… I need this to be only my problem.” She pulled her hand away, locking her fingers together. “I don’t want you or Emma to worry about how I’m handling it, I have it under control.”

He didn’t believe that it was true, if anything she seemed to have no control at the moment. He wasn’t going to say that to her, and he thought she really could have a better handle on it than what it seemed. But he was growing tired of fighting her about Tom, about whether he was or wasn’t worth it.

“Okay, I… if that’s what you need, I’ll do my best to do that for you.” He looked back at her, “I’m here for you, so whatever you need me to do… of course.”

Tim knew he shouldn’t have said anything from the start, Emma had warned him against it, but to hear y/n tell him that she simply wanted left in her thoughts was a shock for him. A part of him was expecting her to need him, or at least someone, to talk to about it all, but she was asking to be left alone.

Her thoughts had been too complicated for her to explain to others, she wasn’t sure where they had ended and began anymore. It was a constant loop of searching for answers to problems she knew likely only existed in her head.

Even after Rome, after Tom had taken her heart and torn it to shreds, she couldn’t completely blame him. There was always something, even if it was the most minor of details, that she would make connect back to her to explain why she led to the downfall of it all. She knew Tom played a role too, of course, but he wasn’t her number one enemy. He had called her names, mocked her as she did nothing more than exist, and he had allowed her to make herself vulnerable, but she had decided to open herself up to him.

Y/n wasn’t to completely the one to blame either, and no matter how many times everyone around her would repeat that to her, she couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I do appreciate you trying to help.”

And she did appreciate it, it wasn’t a lie. It was nice to know that he still cared, and Emma too, especially when she had been feeling that everyone was currently against her. She didn’t understand why Tim still stayed, after everything she had put him through, but she was happy to always have him. She felt guilt, though, as if she was holding him back.

“Of course. I just want what’s best for you,” he spoke softly.

What was expected of Timothée in this time where he was forced to watch someone he loved continuously eat away at themselves? He watched as she blamed herself, thinking of every counter argument he could that would prove her innocence, though it wasn’t something that should’ve needed to be proven. He wanted to speak up, to assure her it wasn’t all on her. He wanted to be there for her, and to remind her that she wasn’t to blame. But that wasn’t what she wanted from him, all she wanted was space? She had expected Tim to let her continue blaming beating herself further down, something he did his best to help her work against.

This time around she wasn’t asking for Tim’s help, and had actually asked him to take a step back and give her space. And he would gladly do so, as he had told her, because he didn’t want to upset her or hurt her more than she already had been. He knew that she’d likely just let her feelings fester, she already had been for weeks, but she still had to cope with her feelings in her own way.

He knew she would rather sit in her room, hugging her stuffed frog and listening to music full blast as she cried through all of her pain, but she wasn’t even doing that at the time, she just sat in silence as she judged herself over and over. And he had been wondering what her could do for her, if not be her shoulder to cry on again. Neither Tim nor Emma had much to offer her at the time, and that was something that Emma could accept more easily. But Emma’s relationship with y/n hadn’t began with her helping y/n learn how to nurture herself again.

She said what she wanted now though, so he didn’t feel so lost. She wanted space, and as shocking as it was to him, he would give that to her. She needed to heal again, and maybe now she had all of the tools to do so, or maybe she just didn’t want assistance. Whatever the reason, Tim had decided to still do his best to show her he was still there, that he would always have a helping hand to offer her.

“So,” Tim stood again, doing what he could to just let it go, “let’s go get that ice cream?”

Tim could easily deliver on her request, all she needed was space. Y/n had liked how smoothly Tim was able to just move along. He didn’t hang on his emotions or drag things out to but much more dramatic and theatrical than necessary. He was straight to the point, and he had always been more direct when expressing himself. He had been so different than Tom in that way.

She always had to guess Tom’s mood, and she had always questioned what his feelings for her really were. He had talked to her about how he had liked her for years, which she found nearly impossible to believe because of how they had always treated one another. But was suddenly so sincere when telling her how he cared for her, and that was what made her soften herself around him more.

Y/n also had hidden her feelings for Tom for a long time, and she had began to wonder if they had both hidden for similar reasons. She was always afraid to be vulnerable around him because he would just respond to her with some snarky comment, but she had done just the same back. It was no surprise that they had feared letting the other know how they felt. Timothée could never understand how a relationship could be built on a foundation of fear.

Tom, somehow, was not a villain in this case, which Tim knew, as much as he hated it. Tom had been hurt, truly taken back by the way that y/n had described him in her script, and knowing that it was going to be so public. He deserved to be told how he hurt her, though. He needed to understand the trauma he had put her through, the trauma that Tim had to help her overcome. But Tom was no villain, that was too harsh a title to give to anyone Tim thought.

“Right, the ice cream.” She stood slowly, adding a small smile, “And we can’t forget Emma’s pasta.”

“No, of course we can’t,” he laughed.

Emma’s pasta hadn’t been ruined by a “Tim and y/n walk” that time, as it turned into something much less enjoyable. It was a needed conversation, but still one they both likely would’ve preferred to avoid.

#timothee chalamet x reader #tom holland x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x y/n #timothée chalamet x you #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #perennial #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader angst #timothée chalamet x reader angst #timothee chalamet x reader angst #timmy chalamet x reader #tim chalamet x reader

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oblxvion · 4 years ago

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euphoric | eren jaeger (6)

-> pairing: eren jaeger x f!reader

-> wc: 3.5k

-> warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, a bit of fluff, mentions of drinking

-> note: i’m so sorry for the late update guys, i’ve been having writers block and i didn’t really know how to continue this fic. BUT i love it too much so bear with me. thank you all for being so patient.

you woke up to the comfort of your bed, sitting up slowly as you were slightly confused at how you’d arrived here. the sound of your fan echoed quietly throughout your room as you checked your phone, seeing that it was around 3:30 in the morning.

the sluggish feeling of a hangover was prominent as you made your way over to the bathroom, looking into the mirror as you walked over to the toilet. your makeup was taken off, but who did it? who brought you back home? all you remembered from the hours prior was dancing with this guy named reiner and sitting outside on the curb of the street.

once you finished in the bathroom, you entered your room, grabbed one of your favorite sweatshirts before heading into the kitchen. your throat was a bit dry and head pounding from the alcohol you had consumed earlier that night.

the apartment was quiet, you made the assumption that sasha had not made it home yet. knowing her, she was probably out and having some fun with niccolo. you reached up to the cabinet and got a hold of a glass before turning on the tap for some cold water, filling the cup up about three quarters of the way and putting in some ice.

just as you were about to leave and head back off to bed, you noticed that there were a pair of shoes that you knew weren’t yours or sasha’s over by the door to your apartment. who would leave a pair of shoes at someones house and then leave? or maybe they didn’t?

you walked over to the placemat near the door and looked at the shoes, unsure of who they could belong to. your head was throbbing, it seemed to be too much brainpower to think and figure out who’s shoes they were. your body ached as you made the decision to fret about the shoes later and made your way back into your bedroom when you walked by the couch to see a body out cold. you took a quick glance, brushing it off because chances are, it could be sasha who came home and passed out on the couch.

just as you were about to exit the room and head to your bedroom, it struck you that the body on the couch looked nothing like sasha. to get a better look, you walked back into the living room and looked over to the couch.

“eren?”

he jolted up from his slumber to see you looking over at him from behind the couch with a glass of water in your hand, clearly confused and annoyed to see him on laying there.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you were pissed off, who does he think he is to sleep in your home? you didn’t even want to see him, you remembered only bits and pieces of what happened a few hours prior at the party; for example, him and historia.

eren was confused on why you were upset with him, he was the one who brought you back. maybe the amount of alcohol you had was too much and he was going to have to tell you the story once again.

“y/n, just listen. please?” he asked, sitting up on the couch, eyes pleading you to let him share what he had to say. part of you wanted to kick him out and not even hear what he had to say, but you had been so stressed the past week that you knew that you had to hear what he had to say. your lack of response urged him to continue speaking as you sat down on the opposite edge of the couch.

“so, to start,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair, “i have no idea who the girl was who texted me, i don’t save anyone’s numbers unless they’re important to me. i haven’t been seeing anyone ever since you gave me a chance. do you really think i’d want to fuck up with you?”

you pondered his question for a moment, eren had made it clear in the past that he wanted this to work but you were still nervous about it. sasha had warned you about his past but he seemed intent on making you realize that he wasn’t going to be like that anymore.

“no, you wouldn’t.” you sighed, setting your glass down on the side table before turning back over to him.

“then why’d you get so upset?” his voice quiet as he looked into your eyes. even in moments like these, he still managed to get you flustered and you hated him for that.

“eren, how would you react if you saw a text from a guy on my phone saying something like that? of course you’d be upset, like any normal person would.” you glared at him before regaining your composure.

“well, yeah -” he began before you cut him off.

“then why do you do it?” you blurted out.

“do what?”

“treat girls like this! talk them up and then get in their pants and then leave? does it boost your ego or something? does it make you feel good? i don’t know if i can believe that you haven’t seen anyone else, why would she text you out of the blue like that? why can’t you just be honest with me?” all these questions that had been filling your mind for the last week just kept coming out as eren sat there, clearly dumbfounded.

“do you really wanna know?” eren said softly, looking away to hide his face.

“yes, i do actually.” you said matter-of-factly.

“it’s because of my dad.” he sighed, bringing his head in his hands as you gave him an unconvinced look. eren had told you about the drama with his family in the past, about how his father had a previous marriage and then married eren’s mom carla. he also told you that grisha was never really home but he didn’t tell you the reason for that. “so you know how my dad had a previous marriage? he remarried to my mom and then after that was never really at the house, he was always out. as a kid, i thought he was just doing it because of work, like he said. but every time he would leave, it was so easy to read the hurt and distrust on my mom’s face.”

“okay, so what are you implying?” all the possible things that grisha could be doing flowed through your head, but the most obvious answer stayed prominent in your mind.

“even though he said that he was out doing his job, he was out fucking around with other women. what’s even worse is that i had no idea about this until my parents got a divorce and mom told be about what he was up to.” your heart sank at this information. you hadn’t met eren’s mom before but he always spoke so highly of her and come to think of it, he never really talked about his dad.

“oh, eren, i’m so sorry.” you whispered, moving closer to him on the couch as if to give him a sense of comfort.

“nah, you don’t need to apologize. i’m not trying to guilt trip you either but it’s just after that, i got with so many girls to hide away the fact that i was hurt and betrayed by my dads actions. i love my mom so much and to find out what he was doing to her, it made me emotionless in some ways, sex was really the only way that would take my mind off of things. and what’s even worse, some of the girls got attached to me and i couldn’t do that so i ended up ghosting them, i think that’s why that girl texted me.”

“wow, yeah, that’ll do it to you. i’m really sorry though, i had no idea that your dad was seeing other women while he was with your mom,” you said quietly, looking over to him. “but it wasn’t right to do that to those other girls, using them to forget about your problems isn’t okay, eren.”

“fuck, yeah, i know.” he groaned, throwing his head back on the back of the couch. “i feel horrible about it. but then you came along and i started to catch feelings so i swore off other girls to focus my full attention onto you.”

“i appreciate that, but what about historia? i thought you said that you were done with her, why were you with her earlier?” your voice unwavering as you asked him this question. you weren’t intimidated by her, but you were merely confused why eren said that he was done talking and hanging around her and then to see him with her at the party.

“didn’t i tell you?” you shook your head at his comment, maybe you didn’t remember. “i told you earlier about why i was with her, maybe you were a bit too drunk to remember but i can say it again. “well, i was talking to historia about it because i wanted to know what to do and how to work things out with you, but if it bothers you and makes you uncomfortable, i won’t do it again.”

coming to think of it, it all made sense. there was nothing really suspicious going on between the two when you walked over to them in the hours prior. what hurt more is that he lied and said that he didn’t talk to her anymore and to find him standing with her made you feel like you were being fucked around with.

“thanks but it’s just the fact that you lied to me. you told me that the two of you had stopped talking and then seeing you were with her, made me extremely anxious and i felt betrayed.” eren stayed silent at your remark, he knew that you were right, he had told you that the two of them had stopped talking. “look, historia is a nice person, i like her and i want to hopefully become friends with her in the future. but can you not lie to me? i don’t care if you guys are friends but just tell me the truth, okay? i don’t want to see something and then make assumptions based on that information.”

“i’m sorry y/n. i promise you, i only see her as a friend and she sees me as one too. she even has a girlfriend but regardless, it wasn’t right to be there with her. it wasn’t smart of me.” he apologizes, turning his body towards yours.

although part of you still wanted to bicker about his actions, his apology was sincere. he clearly had no intentions of treating you like those other girls in the past and you felt bad for them too. you knew that even though eren had told you that he only wanted you, he was going to have to prove himself as well.

“you know, i’m going to forgive you but you’re gonna have to prove that you don’t want anyone else because i won’t let myself be hurt like i was throughout this past week. do you know how stressed i was? i literally wasn’t coming out of my room,” you retorted, remembering how you felt not even a couple days ago.

“i fucked up, but i’m willing to do everything to make it better, i can assure you of that.” he gave you a apologetic smile as he took your hands in his, eren wanted to make this work. for the first time in his life he felt compelled to make this relationship with you healthy and pursue it. his eagerness surprised you, but you only smiled at him.

“we can start over, but please don’t do that again, okay? just tell me the truth first when things similar to this happen. i was pretty depressed for the whole week.” you yawned, the feeling of exhaustion overtaking you as you stood up slowly from the couch.

“yeah, of course. i was pretty stressed out too, but i’m sorry for putting you through that, y/n. it won’t happen ever again,” eren promises you as he gets up from his position on the couch, standing in front of you.

part of you wanted to reach out and hug him, because yes, you did miss him. but the other part of you thought that it wasn’t smart considering everything that happened. in this conversation, you realized that you and eren went into a relationship way too quickly. although you knew that you wanted to be with him, you had to set some boundaries first before that happened again. eren also needed to prove to you that he truly meant what he had said, you didn’t want to go through that again.

you gave eren a small smile before both of you went silent, knowing that neither one wanted to go back to being what you were before or even worse, strangers. but there had to be work done in order for this to work out for the two of you.

you and eren stood there in awkward silence before eren cleared his throat as if he were going to try and start another conversation. he had one question that was driving him crazy in his mind, he had to know your answer.

“so, how do you know reiner?” eren asks you, choking on his words as he didn’t want to sound too nosy, but in all truth, he wanted to know your answer. reiner had always been a friend to eren, but there was un unspoken rivalry between the two of them. eren just wanted to make sure that you weren’t interested in him, as he had seen you dancing with reiner earlier.

“oh i don’t actually, i kinda forced him to dance with me once sasha went over to niccolo.” you chuckled, remembering how ecstatic sasha was with seeing him. “why’d you ask?”

“oh, uh, no reason,” he said nervously, bringing his hand back behind his neck as he turned away from you slightly, not wanting you to see his slightly tinted cheeks.

“is the eren jaeger getting jealous?” you teased, poking his forearm as you tried to get a reaction out of him. it was cute seeing him like this, it made you realize how much you missed him during this past week.

“oh my god, no! i was just curious on how you knew him!” eren groaned, looking back over to you, seeing as you were trying hard to keep yourself together before laughing at eren’s remark. seeing you smile and seeing you happy made his heart warm in a way that he had missed. with every girl that eren knew or was on his list of bodies, none of them made him feel the way you did. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing!” you sighed, catching your breathe and looking back over to him. “‘just thought it was cute how you got jealous over something like that.”

eren gave you a small ‘hmph’ before crossing his arms in a playful manner before dropping the act, giving you his signature smile. “yeah, yeah.”

you hated him for it, the way his smile could make your face heat up and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, if only he knew that the smallest things made your feelings for him grow.

“so do you need a ride home? i can order you an uber,” you offered, pointing in the direction of your room to where your phone was located. “it’s the least i can do since you went out of your way to bring me home.”

“don’t worry about it, i didn’t want you getting in the car with some creep since you were pretty drunk.” he told you as he headed over to the door to slip his shoes on before grabbing the door handle. “i also drove here, so there’s no need.”

“okay, are you sure?” you asked him, walking over to the door to see him out.

“yeah, it’s no biggie, i promise.” he chuckled, standing up straighter as he opened the door.

“alright,” you said quietly, leaning up against the wall next to him. “i’ll see you soon?”

“for sure, text me.” he gives you a soft smile, as he ties his hair back into a lose man bun.

“okay,” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud since your door was now open as you returned the smile. you stared at him for a moment, pondering on what you should do next and whether it was appropriate to do.

eren gave you a small nod before exiting through the door when you grabbed his arm and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded.

“text me when you get home.” you told him as you shut the door gently, leaving eren standing in front of your apartment in shock. he was somewhat surprised by your action, but he knew and so did you, that this was going to be a new start for the two of you.

you were somewhat proud of yourself for not running back to him completely. as much as you wanted to, starting from the beginning is going to be good for the two of you. there wasn’t much that you were worried about, aside from the fact that the two of you had an insanely high sex drive.

people have sex early in relationships all the time, right? not that it mattered when you and eren had sex again, but it’s effort that you’re worried about. what if after the two of you have sex again, he becomes bored and gets a text like that again? you knew that he wouldn’t because he told you so, but the thought still lingered in your mind.

meanwhile, eren was driving back to his place, glad that he had told you what had happened and the truth about his actions. he had been nervous for your reaction to his words as he had not really planned to tell you at 4:00 in the morning, but surprisingly, you were willing to listen and understand what he had to say.

as the music played softly in the background of his car, eren drowned himself in his thoughts and realized that he was truly grateful to be given this chance to try again. although he’d told you before, and he’d say it again and again, he cares about you too much to let this go to waste; he’d do everything he could to prove to you that he was worthy for you.

upon arriving home, eren was exhausted, physically and mentally after this past week. after changing into some comfortable sleeping clothes and brushing his teeth, eren finally got into the comfort of his bed, sighing at the cushiony feeling of the mattress. he could feel his eyes flutter closed as it came to his attention how tired he really was.

he made sure to send you a quick text, letting you know that he’d made it back home safely. your lack of response proved to him that you were probably fast asleep since he had surprised you with being on your couch in the middle of the night.

with that, he turned on his side and attempted to fall asleep, a small smile appearing on his face.

you woke up in the late hours of the morning with the urge to use the bathroom once again. once you finished, you peered into sasha’s room, finding her completely passed out in the bed. she must’ve arrived in earlier and did a pretty good job of not waking you up. you were going to have to tell her how you got home eventually and the conversation you had with eren.

just as you plopped back into bed, you peered over to your phone and saw the text that eren had sent you to inform you that he arrived back at his place safe and sound. you clicked the little heart button on the text, showing that you were glad that he made it. you felt yourself smiling at this small action before catching yourself and setting your phone down beside you on the bed.

eren was always going to be an important person in your life, there was no doubt. but if you lost him, you wouldn’t know what’d you’d do.

just as you were about to get out of bed, your phone buzzed as a text message went through. curious at who it was from, and what it was about, you opened your phone, giggling at the text.

“this boy,” you chuckled, shaking your head as you got up and prepared a text back.

eren jaeger

so are you free tomorrow night?

i wanna take you on a date

#euphoric series #eren jaeger x y/n #euporic eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger #eren #attack on titan eren #snk eren #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk smut #aot smut #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yaeger #eren yaeger aot #eren yaeger x you

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purpletaecup · 4 years ago

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10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling. When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

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thatringboy · 3 years ago

Note

Xiaoven idol au? 👀 (no angst please ahah)

okay it may seem a tiny bit angsty at the beginning but i prommy it turns into kisses and cuteness as it goes on

We're Doing It Together

Warnings: Xiao being dumb as rocks and oblivious as hell to everything

Characters: Xiao, Venti

Ships: Xiaoven

Word Count: 1,774

Summary: Idol!Xiao finds out that his close friend Venti wants to join a new troupe after the two of them being solo for a while

The cold night air bit at the young man’s nose as he pulled his forest green hood down over his eyes. He could see his breath float away in the air as he sighed and checked his watch.

He’s late.

The sound of sneakers smacking the pavement got louder in his ears until someone ran up to him out of breath. “Xiao! I’m so sorry! Practice ran long and then Kaeya started an argument with Lisa and then--”

Xiao put a hand to silence him and returned his gaze to the frozen river under the bridge. “It’s fine. Must be nice to have a group like that.”

The new arrival laughed lightly and nudged him. “You make it sound like I’m on stage preforming with them!”

“It’s not like Jean won’t let you.”

He put his hands behind his head, his teal braids blowing gently in the wind. “Eh, my time has come and gone for this business.”

Xiao glared at him. “You make us sound old!”

It was true, the two young men no longer preformed with their original groups. Xiao’s group “Yaksha 5” had disbanded as the other four members all left the idol business and his new band “Adepti” only met once a month to write songs. No more live performances. The other young man, Venti, used to preform under the stagename “Barbatos” with the famous idol group “Celestia”, but he and the other remaining senior member - a tall man who went by the stagename “Morax” - had left a while ago. Now, Morax went by Zhongli and occasionally wrote songs with Adepti while Venti became a choreographer with a popular rookie troupe named “Favonius”.

The two stood there in silence watching the lights of streetlamps dance off of falling snowflakes before them. Venti tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and sighed. “I got an offer from a new group of guys who want me on stage with them. They say they want me on soprano.”

Xiao gave him a sideways look. “And? I thought you swore off preforming or something when you left Celestia.”

Venti balled his hands into fists inside his pocket and didn’t meet his eyes. “I think… I met the center of this group; he’s a really nice guy. They’ve got a manager already and apparently have done some music with Jean. She’s the one who got me in contact with them.”

“So you’re gonna join them?” His voice sounded distant, lonely. There weren’t many solo performers in the idol world. Xiao and Venti had been riding their residual fame from their past groups for years and hadn’t really signed contracts with a single troupe from how sourly they left their past groups. Xiao thought they were special in that way… but Venti was the one still getting new offers for shows while Xiao had to almost beg to be an opening.

Venti looked him in the eyes. “I haven’t agreed to yet.”

“Really?” Xiao scoffed. “And here I thought you would be all over the chance to start a new group.”

The shorter man squinted his eyes. “I told them I’m only joining up if my conditions are met!”

Xiao’s eyebrows shot up. “You have standards?”

“Of course! And very high ones at that!” Venti pouted. “How else do you think I put up with you?”

Xiao felt warm in the face at that remark, he only prayed that the darkness of the night hid this from Venti.

Suddenly, Venti’s volume dropped to a whisper and he began to fidget with his fingers. “My conditions were that you had to join the group as well. They want to call the group ‘4NEMO’ and they were still searching for a fourth guy so I figured…”

He trailed off as he caught Xiao staring at him with a bewildered expression. Venti began to panic. Did he just hurt Xiao’s pride? He knew that the taller man didn’t like to accept help from others, but for some reason he thought this time would be different.

Venti was yanked from his thoughts as Xiao closed the distance between them and engulfed him in a hug. “My my, what a sudden show of affection!”

Xiao had did it to keep Venti from seeing the red on his cheek. Truth be told, he was deeply touched by Venti turning down a chance to play more shows if he couldn’t be by his side, but he was too inexperienced at returning kindness. A hug seemed to suffice, right?

“Thank you, Venti, that means the world to me.”

“Does it really?” The words spilled from his mouth before he even finished thinking them. He didn’t want Xiao to agree to something as serious as starting a new idol group with strangers just to appease him.

Xiao pulled away just to lean down and press the softest of kisses to Venti’s lips. The shorter of the two thought his heart was going to explode. Sure, the two had danced around each other for as long as they knew each other and Venti would have been a fool to not notice Xiao’s attractiveness during that time. But they had never been more than friends-who-flirt-with-each-other.

The taller pulled away with a red face as he searched Venti’s eyes. “Does that convince you?”

Venti nodded briskly, his brain not exactly processing what had just happened. It seemed Xiao’s brain was only just then catching up to his actions because he suddenly stepped back and covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes widening to a horrified expression.

“I didn’t--I mean--I--Sorry!” He blurted out from behind his hands.

Venti touched his own lips and blinked a few times before thinking of what to say. “So you really want to be in a group with me, huh?”

Xiao pulled his hands down and while his face was contorted into a snarl, his cheeks still burned red. “And? So what?! Don’t let it go to your head, I just need the money!”

The shorter man giggled and grabbed Xiao’s hand, lacing their fingers together without any resistance. “Sure, whatever you say~”

Despite his harsh tone, Xiao pressed the side of his body next to Venti’s to b closer to him. “So, who are the guys in this group?”

Venti hummed. “Well, the center is this blonde guy named Aether who’s new in town. I heard he’s done some work for Favonius in the past and that he’s friends with the girls in Qixing. The other guy is named Kazuha. He ran with Beidou’s crew for a bit to get away from the whole Tenryou Doxxing drama and now he’s teaming up with Aether to form 4NEMO. I think the manager is Sucrose. You know, Albedo’s manager? She’s picking up the job for this group too.”

“Hmm, impressive. Sounds like a good group. I think I’ll like it.” Xiao looked out to the distance.

Venti beamed. “Wait, you mean it?”

Xiao felt himself turning red again. “Ah, yeah, sure. I know Aether, we did so collab work once, I trust him.”

Venti reached up and poked his cheek. “And because you’ll be dancing with me?”

Xiao grabbed his hand and leaned down again. “I wouldn’t mind getting back into the idol drama if you were by my side. Maybe I just want you.”

The shorter man went red in the face and tried to laugh that last statement off. “Wow, that’s some confession, huh? It’s a good thing I feel the same way, otherwise I’d tease you to death over this.”

Xiao let go and his face dropped into a shocked expression. “You’re serious? You feel the same?”

Venti laughed out loud, hugging his sides. “Yes, dummy! Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered with all of this! I thought all of that was clear when you kissed me! Gods you are slow!”

Xiao frowned and crossed him arms. “I was just… you’re very hard to read!”

Venti stopped laughing and grabbed the sides of Xiao’s hood, pulling him down to eye level. “And you are like an open book. It’s funny to watch you, Xiao. You can be very suave and smooth with your words, but other times you get all flustered and you close up. It’s cute!”

“I’m not cute.” He didn’t pull away, just adverted his eyes.

Venti made a disagreeing noise and closed the distance between them. This time the kiss was softer, smoother and had much more passion behind it. Venti made a happy noise when he felt Xiao wrap his arms around his back and moved to place his own arms around Xiao’s neck.

Xiao found himself sinking more and more into Venti’s embrace. The taste of cheap wine on his breath, the way his mouth molded to hold him and the way his hands gently caressed the back of his head was all too much for him to handle. His anxieties melted away as he pulled Venti’s smaller frame flush against his own. For just how long had he been waiting to do this? Ever since they met, Venti had always been flirty and open about his emotions, but Xiao had quickly deduced that it was all a mask he put on to keep himself from being hurt by those around him. Xiao was similar in that sense, always acting aloof and angry to keep people from getting too close to him. But when he was with Venti… none of that mattered. When he was with Venti, he didn’t care how badly things ended with Yaksha 5, he didn’t notice the way his ratings dropped, he didn’t pay attention to the social media slandering.

Venti was like some sort of wind spirit: always floating from one place to the other without a concern. Xiao wanted to learn more, to be more like him. And to him, joining this new 4NEMO group was the fastest way to do that.

When they pulled away, Venti did not fail to notice the glimmer of love in Xiao’s gaze. He brought his hands down to Xiao’s waist and hugged him close with a giggle. “You are cute.”

“No I’m not.” Xiao hugged him back with a pout.”

“Yes you are~”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes-s-s-s you are Gao-Xiao!” Venti bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Xiao let go and tried to push him away. “I am going to throw you over the side of this bridge if you call me cute one more time.”

Venti let him go with a smile, a hand fishing into his pocket for his phone. “Then I’ll call Aether and tell him you’re in?”

Xiao’s face went back to the loving smile from before. “Sure thing.”

#i think i just wanted an excuse to write them kissing #i'm a sucker for xiao #asks #writing #writing requests #requests #genshin impact #fluff #sfw #xiao #venti #xiao x venti #xiaoven

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charincharge · 4 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, eleven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

“Person A falls into Person B’s lap”

A crowd of screaming students streamed past the window as Aelin slouched down at her desk. The last day of school was supposed to mean early release, ice cream down by the pier and finally celebrating two whole months of freedom.

But not today. Not for Aelin. Instead, she was in hell.

She barely paid attention as Principal Havilliard explained their detention task, though she didn’t miss her fellow detentionee’s groans as he spilled the ancient library card catalogue onto the floor, his foot shuffling them even further out of order.

“I have paperwork I’ll be doing in my office right next door, and I will notice if this door opens one inch. You have three hours to put these cards back in order,” he smirked, his boot-covered foot shoving the cards around some more. “See you all at seven.”

Aelin glanced over at Rowan, hoping for any kind of assurance, but just like the last twenty hours, he refused to acknowledge her. She knew she’d screwed up; she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so awful as when she saw Rowan’s red-rimmed eyes pick her up for school this morning. She’d apologized profusely, over and over until she wasn’t sure she could apologize anymore, but he just shrugged stiffly and refused to look at her. It had felt like the longest day of her life, and it still wasn’t over.

“Some for youuu,” Dorian cooed, scooping up the cards from the floor and plopping a pile onto Rowan’s desk.

“Some for youuu,” he continued around the room, distributing cards to Manon, who Aelin had been not entirely surprised to see in detention. Dorian dumped the remainder of cards on his and Aelin’s desks, smartly avoiding an already-napping Lorcan in the back corner of the room.

“It’ll be finished fastest if we separate by letter, and then organize each letter,” Dorian explained.

Manon laughed as she started sorting. “Your dad make you do this on your free time?” she asked.

“You know it, babe,” he said with a wink. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. “My dad just loves giving me detention.”

Dorian kicked up his feet onto the desk as he began his sorting, aimlessly chatting with Manon.

As Aelin began her own sorting, she glanced over at Rowan again. He was dutifully separating his own piles, shoulders tensed, as if he could feel Aelin’s gaze on him, his own eyes boring holes into the desk in front of him, refusing to look up. She hoped against all hopes that he’d look up and all would be forgiven, but she knew that wasn’t likely. Fuck. She’d really fucked up. She had no idea what to do or say to make it better. She felt entirely out of her depth. Rowan had never ignored her for this long, and she was starting to feel like a drug addict going through withdrawal. She was tweaking, in desperate need of any kind of acknowledgment – a flash of his dark green eyes, a smile, a nod… anything.

Instead, they sat in tense silence, the only sound the shuffling of index cards. The minutes ticked by, endlessly, and Aelin could feel herself growing more frustrated with Rowan’s silence with every passing second. She knew she was about to burst.

“L’s are done,” Rowan said, pushing a stack of index cards to the corner of his desk. Manon collected them and dropped them onto the front desk, adding them to her own pile.

Aelin glanced at the giant wall clock. 4:45. Only two hours and fifteen minutes more of the silent treatment. She groaned and placed her head down on the desk.

“Okay, what’s going on with you two?” Dorian asked, pointing at Aelin and Rowan. Rowan’s back stiffened, going ram-rod straight as he frowned at Dorian’s question. “Aren’t you supposed to be best friends?”

Rowan scrunched his nose up and finally, finally glanced toward Aelin. The pain in his eyes nearly knocked Aelin out. She inhaled sharply, biting on her lip, trying to hold back the onslaught of emotions just a look from Rowan caused.

“We are best friends,” Rowan mumbled, causing the knot in Aelin’s chest to unfurl slightly.

“Then again,” Dorian smirked. “I repeat. What’s going on with you two?” he asked. “Because you’re kind of acting like you hate each other.”

“We don’t hate each other,” Aelin burst out, her heart pounding.

Rowan frowned, finally putting all his attention on her. “I don’t know,” he began. “What you did was pretty hateful.”

Aelin leaned toward him, her voice hoarse with desperation. “And I said I was sorry a million times. I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Ooh,” Dorian perched himself on a desk between the fighting pair, looking back and forth at the dueling friends. “Should we all talk it out?”

“No,” Rowan snapped, going back to his card organization.

“Boo,” Manon jeered, joining in on what Aelin would rather not have as a group discussion, causing a bright smile to appear on Dorian’s face. He was living for this drama, apparently. “Kind of sounds like you two just need to kiss and make up.”

Aelin’s cheeks flushed at the mention of kissing, which she tried to push down immediately, covering her face with her loose hair.

“Mind your own business,” Rowan frowned, bravely talking back to Manon in a way that Aelin was sure would get him snapped at. But instead, a feral grin appeared on Manon’s face as she twirled a piece of her white blonde hair with a long nail.

“Oh come on. I dare you.”

“What?” he asked.

“I dare you to kiss Aelin,” Manon repeated smugly.

She raised her eyebrows at Rowan, who’s lips turned down even further.

“Don’t be stupid,” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. Aelin stomach hurt with how fast he’d dismissed the idea. “I’m not kissing Aelin on a dare.”

“Why not?” Dorian asked. “I will.”

Dorian slid off his desk and leaned over Aelin’s. Aelin leaned back, laughing softly at Dorian’s half-hearted attempt to bring his lips closer to her face, and swatted him away.

“Very mature,” Rowan grumbled, tugging his fingers through his hair as he glared in Aelin’s direction again.

“Oh, come on,” Dorian prodded. “We all need a break anyway. Let’s play truth or dare.”

Rowan scoffed loudly, never stopping organizing his cards on his desk. “What are we, in seventh grade?”

“Don’t be a pussy, Whitethorn,” Lorcan called out from the back corner of the room. Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound of his gravelly voice. Aelin watched with curiosity as he stood, his large arms stretching overhead as he cracked his back and neck loudly.

“Truth or dare,” Manon chanted. “Truth or dare! Truth or dare!”

Aelin laughed as Dorian and Lorcan both joined in, slowly approaching Rowan’s desk until he was surrounded.

“Fine!” he shouted.

“Great!” Dorian ruffled Rowan’s hair, earning another disgruntled frown from the blonde. “Manon, truth or dare?”

“Dare!” she answered excitedly.

“I dare you to flash us,” Dorian said with a devilish smile, causing Manon to roll her eyes.

“Boys.” She shook her head. “So fucking predictable.”

Her voice was deadpan, but she fulfilled the dare regardless, lifting her shirt to show the room her black bra. The boys’ jaws dropped slightly, completely silent as she pulled her shirt back down and fluffed her hair, completely unphased.

“Lorcan,” Manon drawled. Before she could even ask the question, he puffed out his chest and grinned.

“Dare.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Her golden eyes glowed as she pretended to think over her question. “I dare you to kiss Dorian,” she gleamed, showing off a perfect row of white teeth.

Lorcan merely rolled his eyes again. “What, you think I’m going to get all no-homo, as if I haven’t had a threesome with another dude before?” Manon shrugged. “C’mere, pretty boy, gimme a kiss.” Lorcan laughed as Dorian mimed pointing to himself, as if to ask Who, me?

Aelin blushed furiously. She knew that seniors were more experienced than she was. Well, a lot of people were more experienced than she was. But a threesome? She could feel herself heat up as Lorcan slid his hand into Dorian’s hair and placed his mouth over his for a hard kiss. Dorian’s mouth moved in tandem with the senior’s, until Lorcan left him with a soft press of his lips and a cocky grin.

Dorian cleared his throat. “I mean, I get it,” he admitted. “Why everyone’s lining up to fuck you.”

“Not everyone,” Lorcan said, flashing his dark eyes at Manon for a loaded second. Aelin remembered all of Manon’s callous rejections and wondered if there was more to the story than they were seeing. She was so wrapped up in trying to figure it out that she barely even registered when Lorcan turned his attention to her.

Lorcan grinned widely. “Aelin, truth or dare?”

“Umm…” She paused. It was no secret that Lorcan wasn’t her biggest fan. And she had a feeling he was getting ready to torture her. She had no desire to flash an audience or kiss anyone but Rowan, so she decided to go with the safer answer.

“Truth,” she answered nervously.

“Who in school are you hottest for?” he asked.

“What?” Aelin squeaked, her voice going unnaturally high as all eyes turned to her.

“Who in school are you hottest for?” Lorcan repeated. “Who do you lust after? Who do you think about when you listen to I Touch Myself?”

Aelin’s mouth dropped as she gaped like a fish. “I…I…” Her cheeks burned as she scanned the faces in front of her, trying not to pause on the dark green eyes that were suddenly rife with curiosity. “Did I say truth? I meant dare,” she said, changing tactics.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and motioned this thumb downward. “Booo.” He made a raspberry sound with his lips as he stuck out his tongue. “Fine, I dare you to give one of us… whoever you want… a sexy lap dance for thirty seconds.”

“I don’t know how to do that!” Aelin croaked out, getting more stressed by the second. She’d have to choose someone. She wanted to choose Rowan, of course. She’d be most comfortable being close to him like that, but she hated that he was still so mad at her. She didn’t want to risk upsetting him even more.

“One or the other. We’re waiting, Aelin,” Lorcan drawled.

The room silenced as Aelin stood and looked at the four students sitting in front of her, laps ready and waiting for her. She was about to take a step toward Rowan when his eyes went to the floor, avoiding her gaze, and she redirected, stepping in front of Manon.

Aelin glanced over her shoulder. “I wish I had music,” she complained.

“I’ve got you,” Lorcan smirked, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. Of course he’d smuggled his into detention. He cued up some rap song with a thumping bass that Aelin wasn’t familiar with, and she took a deep breath as she pretended she didn’t have an audience.

Her hips swayed side to side, dipping lower.

“Lap dance means on her lap, prude,” Lorcan shouted, and Aelin resisted the urge to glare at him over her shoulder. Instead, she got closer to Manon, pushing her legs wider as she awkwardly shimmied between them. She turned around and leaned her head back as she felt Manon’s hands at her sides, helping her maintain her balance as she dipped low to the ground.

“Annnd… time,” Dorian said, clapping loudly as Manon threw Aelin a wink. Adrenaline pounding through her shaky legs, Aelin barely stood upright before tripping over Manon’s extended foot and plopping into Rowan’s lap.

He stood nearly as soon as she fell, hands firmly placed around her waist as he shoved her away from him. “Gods, Aelin, be careful!” he reprimanded her, and Aelin felt tears prick at her eyes. Rowan had never acted like this with her before. He’d said she was still his best friend earlier, but now she wasn’t too sure. His eyes were stormy with upset. All she wanted was for him to smile again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled her apology, and he awkwardly shook her off. It was then she realized it wa her turn. To ask Rowan.

“Rowan,” she said, her voice shaky. “Truth or dare.��

“Truth…” he answered carefully.

“What else do I need to do to make this better?” she asked. She just needed an answer. Anything to do to repair what she’d clearly destroyed.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

Dorian made a loud buzzer sound. “That’s not a satisfactory answer.”

“Even if I really don’t know?” Rowan answered, exasperated. Dorian shook his head, and Rowan practically growled in frustration.

“Your original dare still stands,” Manon said, sing-song. “You can always decide to kiss Aelin.”

“Fine,” Rowan said, causing Aelin’s heart to skip a beat.

“What?” her eyes widened, clearly not hearing right.

“I’m taking the dare,” Rowan said with an annoyed glare. “I’m kissing you.”

Aelin wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. She didn’t want Rowan to kiss her on a dare. That was not how she’d imagined that happening. Especially not while he was so mad at her.

“No!” Aelin exclaimed, chest thumping wildly as panic flooded her system.

“No?” Manon scoffed.

“I don’t consent to this dare!” she squeaked out.

Rowan wound his arms tightly across his chest, clearly getting more annoyed with Aelin by the second. “It’s just a kiss. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Maybe not to you, she wanted to scream. But instead, she swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded softly. Rowan visibly relaxed at her agreement, but as soon as he started to lean forward, Aelin couldn’t help but think how wrong it all was. She didn’t want her first kiss with Rowan to be because of a stupid dare. She wanted him to want to kiss her. And she certainly didn’t want an audience for it. She’d imagined kissing Rowan so many times, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would happen like this.

His lips had barely brushed hers when Aelin turned her head to the side, so his mouth landed just beyond the corner of her lips, making full contact with her cheek instead.

“Burn,” Lorcan cackled loudly, causing a flood of embarrassment to rush through her.

“Sorry,” Aelin whispered.

“S’fine,” Rowan mumbled, his cheeks stained with red as he looked anywhere but her.

“Kisses mean something to me,” she finally said.

“Spoken like a real virgin,” Lorcan heckled, and Aelin could feel herself shrink even further. Rowan spun around on his heel, his chest heaving as he unleashed on his teammate.

“What is your fucking problem, man?” Rowan spat as Lorcan stoically raised a dark brow in his direction. “I get it, she made you look like an idiot, wounded your manhood or whatever, but you need to let up.”

Lorcan held his hands up in mock surrender and meandered back to his seat, grumbling something about “stupid sophomores.”

Rowan sat loudly back at his desk, clearly seething as he began shuffling through his index cards again. Aelin flushed with relief at his defense of her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him, but instead she threw him a grateful glance, which he accepted with a small nod. It wasn’t a smile, but she’d take it.

“Game over?” Dorian asked, and Manon nodded quickly, retreating to her desk.

“Virginity is just a concept, anyway. Don’t let anyone convince you that you’re losing anything when you have sex,” Manon said too loudly in Aelin’s direction. “It’s a sexist concept created by men to boost them up and control women’s bodies. Sex means different things to different people, and anyone who tries to make you feel bad about your sexual experience or lack of it deserves a special place in hell.”

Aelin had never appreciated someone as much as she did Manon in that moment. Lorcan pretended not to listen and shoved his earbuds further into his ear, slumping back into his seat.

“Thanks,” Aelin said quietly, and Manon shrugged.

The four of them worked quietly for the remaining hour of detention, shuffling the cards back into alphabetical order with methodical ease.

When Principal Havilliard returned at 7pm on the dot, Aelin sighed with relief. “Have a good summer,” he said, effectively dismissing them and walking out the door.

Aelin lingered, hoping to steal a moment with Rowan, but it seemed that he was anxious to get somewhere else.

“Glad I’ll never have to deal with you again,” Lorcan mocked as he made his way to the door. “Fire breathing bitch,” he hissed, passing her by.

Fury steamed at his words, and Aelin stood quickly, wanting to launch herself at him. Her fist reared back, ready to punch, but it was restrained as Rowan stepped in front of her and took his own swing, his fist cracking loudly against Lorcan’s nose.

Blood dribbled from the nose as Lorcan staggered backward, laughing maniacally. “Oh man,” he laughed. “Good for you, Whitethorn,” he said as he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand. “See ya never,” he said, glancing between the two of them and giving a half-hearted salute.

Rowan hissed as he clutched at his fist. “Fuck, that shit really hurts.”

“Rowan!” Aelin raced to his side to assess his reddened knuckles. She pressed against the skin gently, checking for broken bones, and he loosened his fist, letting her examine each finger carefully. She glanced up at him, and he was watching her with a cautious gaze. But when she went to remove her hand from his, he squeezed her fingers softly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, squeezing his fingers back lightly. “But thank you.”

“He was pissing me off,” Rowan replied.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan,” Aelin said again, and Rowan sighed loudly as he stretched out his sore fingers.

“I know you are, Ace.” He rubbed at his face. “It’s just going to take me a while you get the image of your dead body out of my head. It was… fucked up.”

Aelin was about to apologize again when Rowan stopped her. “And I know you’re sorry. But I’m allowed to be mad for a while, okay?”

Aelin nodded in understanding.

“Well,” Aelin cleared her throat. “Thanks for defending me, even when you’re mad at me.”

Rowan finally cracked a smile; it was the most beautiful thing Aelin had ever seen. “Yeah, well, as infuriating as you might be, no one is allowed to talk shit about you. Except me, of course.”

“Of course,” Aelin replied too quickly. She tried to hide her smile, but she couldn’t. Just a small amount of attention from Rowan, and she felt her heart mending itself.

Rowan groaned, frustrated. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Aelin asked, perplexed.

“Like, two minutes ago, I was still furious with you!” He exclaimed, exasperated. “And now…”

“And now you’re… not?” Aelin asked, hopefully as they made their way to their lockers to collect their things. The school was eerily empty, everyone long gone to their first night of summer plans.

“Just. Never again, Aelin.” She nodded rapidly. “I’m serious.”

“Want to get that truce dinner?” she asked. “I felt too guilty last night to eat anything.”

As if on cue, Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. And Aelin had a feeling she knew exactly who it was from. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

“Nope,” he said, shoving the phone into his pocket.

“I can’t believe we’ve both punched Lorcan Salvaterre,” Aelin giggled as he led them out to his car.

“Just call us Rocky I and Rocky II,” Rowan said, draping his arm across her shoulders, causing Aelin to laugh wildly.

“That’s not their names.”

“They’re not?” he asked. “Then why are the movies called that?”

Aelin shook her head and leaned into his side. As she and Rowan bantered about the movies he clearly needed to watch in the near future, Aelin finally had hopes for the future. It was going to be a good summer. She just knew it.

~*~

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#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

332 notes · View notes

jeontaehui · 4 years ago

Text

nananananana (210331 VLIVE)

taehee bites back a grin as fans enter the live. “hello everyoneeee,” she greets softly, her cheekbones lifting into a soft smile. “i’m in the practice room once again.”

“i was just learning a dance actually, it’s my break right now so this’ll probably be short,” she mentions. “and then i turned on vlive without asking permission— well, i did ask permission after i... turned it on,” she giggles. “she’s gonna say yes anyways. no one can say no to me,” the comments section blows up after she sent a sly wink to the viewers. she knew her effect on them one way or another.

mark lee i love you HELLO THE TITLE?? IS THIS A SPOILER???

lee donghyuck’s long hair i only entered the live but i feel like crying T—T why must she be so cute

taeyongbub taehee in the practice room is so attractive??? wth???

taehee tucks a few strands behind her ear asking, “did you guys have dinner already? have you guys eaten?”

mataechan what did taehee eat today?

hyuckschurros PIZZA !!!!

“aw, pizza? i’m craving now,” she shortly puts on a pout before a smile shows itself once again. “i haven’t eaten but i think i’ll have........ um,” taehee seems to think for a moment as she looks up the ceiling, trying to remember what jungwoo said she’d have at the dorms.

“i can’t remember,” she shrugs, proceeding to continue reading the comments.

jungwoo tehet are you going to dance again?

aussiechan TAEHEEEE !!! come home to australia :(

svtzen DREAM SPOILERS PLEASEE

“the dance that me and my teacher did today was to party favors by tinashe! i have to practice some more to get it right but i’m,” she stands up and dusts off her track pants, placing the phone on the floor in front of the mirror, “going to show you guys the part where i’m most confident in.”

she disappears as she goes to the side to play the music, and the strong beats of tinashe’s party favors fills the practice room. she adjusts her pants around her waist and runs a hand through her black hair, ruffling her bangs for a moment before getting into position.

she dances. no matter how hard-hitting the choreography is, taehee knew well how to control her own body, and gracefully yet powerfully sync her movements to the beats.

taehee marry me she’s so hot what the heck do i do

markcity i’m single for this reason only

fullsunnn THIS IS WHY WE NEED A TAEHEE SOLO ASAP !!!

from the corner of her eye, taehee sees her dance instructor imitate the part where she got the dance wrong during their practice, causing her to lose focus and burst into laughter.

ncityinthehouse everyone, the duality of miss jeon taehee

“unnie is laughing at me right now!” taehee giggles. her eyes glance to the side then back to the screen. “yes so, until there did i memorize the dance. i’ll try to post on instagram the full version of it. oh!” she claps her hands excitedly, a habit nctzens took note of before she says an idea.

“since it’s a wednesday today and! the end of the month, you guys can comment whatever you guys want me to do or any question you want to ask and i’ll answer them.”

“i’m going to scroll with my eyes closed and whatever my finger lands on will be picked,” she cutely asks if the viewers got it before briefly explaining what she just said in english.

“i’ll give you guys maybe 30 seconds? is 30 seconds enough? okay, ready and start!”

taehee bobbed her head as she counted the numbers in her head. “30! okay, i’ll close my eyes now.”

juhfahm skincare routine?

merrymark give us a phone tour :D

twiceyeon please watch switch to me by dahyun and chaeyoung !!!! <3

“from twiceyeon,” taehee reads, putting her emcee mode on. “please watch switch to me by dahyun and chaeyoung! ohh i think i’ve seen this on my recommended but i haven’t had the time to watch it— sorry, chaeyoung-ah,” she winces.

you can hear keys being tapped on taehee’s phone screen as she typed the title on youtube’s search bar. the music video appears a few seconds later and she immediately clicks on it.

“oooo dahyun-ssi is very pretty,” taehee says. her expression quickly changes when she sees the twice member use her foot as she played the piano, her hand going up to cover the giggles that escaped out of her. “this is so cool,” she beamed.

“oh sexy!” taehee exclaims after chaeyoung appeared. “i really like chaengie’s short hair.”

she compliments the set when the scene changes, a summer pool vibe replacing the vintage set-up at the intro. “the dance is cute too,” she mumbles.

she smiles at chaeyoung and dahyun’s playfulness in the music video before moving on to compliment her best friend again. “chaeyoung is seriously so pretty... whaaat!”

taehee continues to watch the rest of the video as she moves to the beat, occasionally letting out a chuckle or two at the adorableness of the duo.

“hold on,” she grabs her earphones and plugs them into her phone. “(it’s) to avoid copyright,” she smirks.

taehee finishes the music video with a grin on her face, “the music video was very cute! did they perform this on stage? i think the stage set and the fits would’ve been pretty.”

“speaking of music videos, baekhyun hyung’s new album just dropped yesterday! have you guys watched the music video?” taehee shuffles closer to the camera to read the comments. almost everyone was saying that they did, in fact, watch the music video and really enjoyed it.

“i never said this directly to him but i really am a fan of his, seriously,” she dictates. taehee breaks into a grin as she giggles again, the viewers watching how her eyes twinkled while she talked. “‘bambi’ is really great— it’s immaculate. you guys should stream the whole album and recommend it to your family and friends. baekhyunie hyung never fails to deliver (good songs).”

bbhubblegum taehee promoting baekhyun and other artists better than sm pt. 74628392

going on her phone, she mumbles, “and i really like the choreography of his songs.” there was an adorable pout to her lips as she spoke, much to the amusement of the viewers.

then she looks up from the device in her hands and her eyes hold a certain glint in them before she playfully squints. “just be quiet about this though. i am never gonna hear the end of this from him,” she shakes her head with an amused chuckle, recalling all the times baekhyun teased her and the ‘admiration’ she has for him.

“you’re my only bambi bambi,” taehee sang effortlessly. “it’s a perfect night for you,” her tone was a little softer this time.

“okay so that was our first request? dare? of the live, let’s get to the next one right away!”

taeheeroar do you listen to the neighborhood?

wooyoungification do you want to collab with anyone? if so, who?

“the next one is.... wooyoungification! ooo wooyoung-ah hello,” taehee says, prolonging the last syllable of her sentence. “they asked, “do you want to collab with anyone? if so, who?”

“well,” she clears her throat, furrowing her eyebrows as if she were in thought. “there are a lot of great artists out there. taylor swift is already my answer by default but,” she giggles again, “if i have to think of people outside sm, i think it’d be nice to have a collab with stray kids’ 3racha. they’re their producing unit if i’m not mistaken. it’d be fun to work with them.”

“i also had this dream of having a collaboration stage with the other dancers outside nct, like blackpink’s lisa or seulgi unnie. would you guys want that?”

midzyseason this isnt good for my gay ass

reveluvbar can taehee just take over sm

taehee hums, “i think i never mentioned it before but i wanna try doing drama ost’s too. i don’t watch as much dramas as i do before, but when i was still learning korean, they helped me so much.”

“i watched ‘guardian: the lonely and great god’ a lot and i really liked ‘stay with me’. hopefully, i can collab with punch too.”

taehee unconsciously moves her lips to the side, forming another pout and thinks again. “from sm, i think kai hyung? not counting superm, okay?” she beams.

“kai hyung and,” then a snort escapes taehee before she could even stop it, “baekhyun hyung.”

she puts a hand to her chest once she recovers from her mini-giggling fit before holding it up and swearing it was the truth. “these two were the ones that came to the top of my head, seriously.”

beansprout lolll remember when kai used to “complain” about taehee ever only talking about sehun cause he was the one she was closest to in exo when they first met ?

sodangerous it’s so touching how taehee looked up to exo while she was still a trainee and now they’re like family

taehee nods and bites her bottom lip, asking herself, “why do i feel like a youtuber?”

she smiles to someone off screen and quickly glances back to the camera, “next question!”

asteroidsung what did you get for renjun’s birthday?

“what did i get for renjun’s birthday? i just gave mine literally yesterday. i know it’s summer but i gave him a hoodie that i thought would look cute on him,” she smiles. “it was pink.”

“i was with haechanie when i bought it.”

chenlezoned hyuck said he’s gonna marry daegal next month

“hyuck’s gonna marry who now?!” taehee exclaims, “DAEGAL’S A MINOR!!!”

dreamtopia BYEEEEEEE

themissingpuzzlepiece everyone at haechan marrying daegal:❓❓meanwhile taehee: 🌋🌋⁉️

boohoohyuck sending my prayers to lee haechan

just then, taehee’s phone suddenly rings and her eyes widen at the caller id displayed on the screen. “wow, this dude’s timing is really! spot-on.”

she puts the speaker on, “donghyuck-ah, what’s this i’m hearing that you’re marrying daegal?? are you leaving me and chubs already?! oh and you’re on speaker.”

fullseun don’t you just cry on the inside when markhee calls hyuck by his real name or fullsun

you hear haechan’s boisterous laughter first before he could answer taehee’s question. “i talked about that on vlive,” he said, “where are you?”

“i’m doing vlive.”

“but it’s almost midnight.”

when taehee makes no move to answer, haechan goes, “are you in the practice room again?”

“so?” taehee answers sassily, causing the boy on the other end of the line to groan.

“noona, we talked about this already,” haechan whines. “then we can talk about it again later!” taehee shrugs exasperatedly. “noona....” the former warns, as if he was scolding a child. “i’m just on a break,” she gives in, “i’ll go home soon.”

“promise?” taehee rolls her eyes, though it was clear that she was grateful for haechan’s concern by the soft smile she held on her face. “i promise.”

taehyuckles i know i wished for a taehyuck live but this will suffice Gosh they are so cute !!!!!!

“you haven’t said hello to czennie,” taehee reminds him. “czennie, hello!!” he greets sweetly.

“anyways, i just called you because you agreed to playing a few rounds with me but i’ll just wait for you until you get home,” taehee winces at his statement. she might have forgotten. “oh right, i’m sorry. just a few more minutes?” haechan hums affirmatively from the other end.

“get home safely, noonaaa,” after they exchanged their goodbyes, taehee hangs up the call.

“yes, okay! everyone that was lee haechan on the phone with me and i think i can do,” she turns her back to look at the wall clock in the practice room, “three more comments.”

yangqied taehee’s an idol in the day, pro-gamer by night

“okay, so our next question is: are you friends with aespa? yes! i am friends with aespa,” she beamed.

“i actually saw them the day before their debut stage. my time slot in the practice room was after theirs and so we met there,” taehee recalls. “they’re very pretty! and they look cool when they danced to ‘black mamba’. i wished them luck on their debut stage,” she chuckles.

taehee closes her eyes and proceeds to swipe at the screen, “next question is... oh! i dare you to post on instagram. okay, let me find some photos and show you guys so we can all vote.”

“i’ll send them on bubble but i’ll show it here too in case you guys don’t have a subscription. that’s okay.”

markerlee tb to when taehee sent her pcs to bubble... she really said fuck capitalism !!!!

“okay, option 1: this one,” she brings her phone up to the screen, showing a picture of her with the bird filter on mac.

jisungbye I LIKE THIS ONEEE

kunniekunkun this one’s cute!!!

moloism markhee pls post ur photos with the mac filters im begging you

“orrrr this one,” she faces her phone towards the camera once more. she was sitting on the pavement with the view of the orange-pink sunset behind her, a mask concealing half of her face.

the127thsense everything just screams girlfriend material to me

deryqueen taehee, i am free this friday. i repeat, i am free this friday.

solhyuck i think you should post these as a set on instagram!

“what should i post on instagram? everyone choose between 1 or 2!” taehee tells them in korean, before switching to english. “you guys pick between the first one and the second one, and i’ll post it on instagram.”

oncezenni 2

flamboyanthyuck the second one!

ohmajesus i like the first one

iamjeno second pleaseee

“mm okay, most of you are voting for the second one so i’ll be posting that first thing tomorrow! and then i’ll just send the other one on bubble,” taehee puts her pinky finger up as she speaks, making a promise to the viewers.

“how many was that? two already?” a pout subtly makes its way on taehee’s lips and a few of her hair strands fell in front of her face, causing her to push them back as she huffed. nctzens found it adorable!

takeoffbesttrack can i kiss you.

“can you kiss me?” taehee presses her lips on the tips of her fingers before lightly tapping them on the screen. “i,” one of the corners of her mouth raises to a smirk, “kissed you.”

mahaecries GODDDD

tenvely you will be the death of me

deryqueen AGAIN TAEHEE I AM FREE THIS FRIDAY NIGHT !!!!!!!!!!

taehee giggles after seeing the comment section blow up and her dimples peek out from her cheeks.

“i’m gonna have to end this soon, guys. this is the last one, okay?”

haecity can you go live with markhyuck?

snoopyscoop do you have any more funny stories with jungwoo?

taromilktea did you see sungchan when he debuted as an emcee?

“did i go see sungchan when he debuted as emcee? nooo,” she frowns, “but i did call him on facetime.”

“he said he was nervous but i told him he’d do great! and he did, right?” taehee’s frown was quickly turned into a proud grin. “i watched a replay of it on youtube the day after. he was very cute.”

“i told him to just think of it like he was talking to us so he’s more comfortable, and he told me it helped a lot so i’m relieved,” she nods. “i sent him churros too!”

taehee shuffles closer to the camera and brings her knees close to her chest while she talks, “please support him! i know sungchanie’s glad to have received this opportunity that’s why he’s been practicing diligently.”

taehee reads a few more comments and smiles at the funny ones. the humor of nctzens never fail to make her smile. the memes they send during menpas are so hilarious that she can’t help but reply to most of them.

taeheespresident i guess she’s gonna end the live now? :(

jungwootehet it’s nearing 1 am and i still have school tomorrow...... whoops!

“i’ll have to go now guys, it was nice doing all this with you,” taehee softly mumbles.

“i like this idea of having you guys comment what you would want me to do ‘cause i’m able to connect with you guys more, i’ll try to do a live again soon.”

“the weather’s nice here in korea— well at least for me,” she chuckles, “it rained recently but it might be hot? in other places so please remember to stay hydrated and drink lots of water.”

“also wear your masks and keep social distancing! we’re not only trying to protect ourselves but we have to stop the spreading of it all so,” taehee gives another small smile at the camera as she reminds the people to be careful, “stay safe.”

after a few beats of silence, taehee speaks again. “okay so, until here is taehee’s nananananana live!” she sings while doing the infamous choreo of ‘go’.

empathy127 I KNEW IT WAS FROM GO !!!!

“good night! or good morning to those who are starting their day right now,” she adds, “goodnight! we’ll see you guys soon.”

taehee does her infamous ily hand gesture and winks at the camera before waving bye and ending the livestream.

#taehee.sns #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #wayv #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct reactions #nct x reader #nct au #nct female member #nct female addition #kpop female addition #kpop female oc

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itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years ago

Text

Lucky Guy

Day 7 of Jeankasa Week: College AU

AO3

Sasha and Connie dragged him forward; they’d loaded him up on caffeine that very afternoon, picked up a set of clothes for him and tried to shave his stubble. Jean hadn’t allowed them to do the latter. The night was starting, and he already felt tired.

Final exams had worn him out, consumed all his energy for the sake of a pass, for the sake of a chance of a good job in the future, a nice home for his family. Not that he had any prospects at the moment, mind you. All he seemed to have was stress, and exhaustion nowadays.

He understood that the two dragging him to the party wanted to help him wind down, but Connie had already started taking over for his family business and Sasha had graduated culinary school a year ago. They were living the adult, independent life already.

Meanwhile Jean was stuck with physics and mathematics. At least the artistic portion part of his classes was fulfilling.

“So, where’s Niccolo?” Connie asked as they got on the tramway.

“He had to close up, but he’ll meet us at the party later.” Sasha said, taking them to the long seat at the back of the tramway. Jean sat in between the two, listening to their chatter in silence. “Aren’t you going to lighten up, Jean? You look like someone just died.”

Jean lowered his head, the repetitive rattling of the cart almost lulling him to sleep. “My will to live has died.”

“Come on, man, is it that bad since Marco left?”

“That traitor.” Jean said, with a tone of voice that spoke longing instead of anger.

Marco and he had decided to study architecture together; Jean driven by his knack for drawing, Marco driven by his desire to be by his side. A year into their university course, however, he’d gotten that scholarship to study photography in Hizuru. A great, one-in-a-lifetime opportunity that didn’t come around twice.

An opportunity that would force them to stay apart for four full years. Since neither had enough money to fly back and forth and Jean had not wanted to give up his studies in Paradis, they’d decided to remain friends. They’d been friends since the beginning, after all.

After the first months of heartbreak, Jean had realized that Marco had left him with just about enough money to pay for three months of rent. Although he couldn’t blame him, Jean had gotten the habit of cursing him lowly for the past year, whenever he was forced to balance his part time job and his ridiculous physics lessons.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t get another roommate.” Connie said, scratching the back of his ear. “Are you just holding out until a cute guy shows up at your door?”

“Or girl.” Sasha added, opening a bag of potato chips sneakily.

“Oi, Sasha,” Jean said, frowning. “We’re gonna get a fine because of you.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Sasha said, waving her hand to undermine the matter. “You guys want some? They’re new spicy ones.”

Jean reached out under her jacket and took a few chips into his mouth. “I take it the restaurant is doing well? With you being okay for paying fines, I mean.”

“Niccolo said that breakfast menu I came out with put us on top. If we keep it up, in about two years we’ll be able to set our next location,” she said proudly, her mouth also half full of chips. She gave Jean a significant look. “We’ll need an architect for the place. And someone here will be almost finished with uni.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to remind you.”

“You know you can ask for money, right, Jean?” Connie said, resting his back against the seat. “You don’t need to work yourself to death when you’ve got us.”

Another lazy smile came to his face. “I don’t want to be a burden to you guys.”

“You’re more of a burden when you don’t come with us to these things,” Connie said. “First, you missed all barbecue nights at Niccolo and Sasha’s. And now you didn’t want to come, and you know Reiner throws the best parties. His little cousin took down that Galliard guy the last time.”

“Isn’t she a kid?” Jean blurted out.

“She likes to sneak in to get in fights with the college kids.” Connie explained, laughing. “I think she’s been in martial arts since five or something.”

“Now that’s a surprise,” Sasha said, elbowing Connie as the tramway arrived at its next station. Jean looked at the person getting on and his breath caught. Wearing a corseted black dress, her hair up in a high ponytail and wearing a choker around her elegant neck, Mikasa Ackerman stood out as a comet across a blue sky.

“I didn’t think she’d come tonight,” Connie said. “You know, considering Eren.”

“What happened with Eren?” Jean asked.

“Don’t you check her feed?” Connie asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “You know, since you had that huge crush on her in high school and whatnot.”

“I’ve been busy.” Jean said, too tired to try and deny that crush he’d had on her in their school days, the crush that had always irked Marco somehow. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m too busy to be concerned about other people’s drama.”

“They broke up,” Connie said in a gossipy tone, as if Jean hadn’t just snapped at him. “Around six months ago. He skipped town. Didn’t want to be tied down or something, wanted to be free as birds or whatever. He’s backpacking in the continent, I think.”

Jean sat straighter on his seat. That dick. That stupid, nihilistic piece of shit. “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Isn’t Sasha her best friend?”

“Because you disappeared the whole semester, man. That’s why I told you to ask for money instead of working yourself to death,” Connie said, shaking him by the shoulder. “You miss out on parties and gossip.”

“Stop it. She’ll hear you,” Sasha said, lifting her arm to wave at Mikasa. “Hey! Mikasa, over here! Come sit with us!”

Jean felt heat in his cheeks. “Sasha, don’t. She’ll come.”

“That’s what I want.”

“I can’t talk when she looks this pretty.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Stop being an idiot, Jean.”

Mikasa’s eyes caught sight of them and she made her way to their seat, not bothering to hold onto anything to keep her balance as the tramway moved forward. They had known each other from high school and little things had changed about the way she moved; she carried herself with the elegance of a swan, and the strength of a mountain. He remembered teasing Eren about her being the boss in their relationship during their very last year of school, when the embers of jealousy had begun to die for Jean, and chuckled lowly at the memory of the enraged response he always received.

“Hi, everyone,” she greeted them. Sasha scooted to the side, and Mikasa sat between her and Jean, close enough for him to smell her perfume. “Are you guys going to Reiner’s?”

“Best parties in Trost.” Sasha said, offering her the bag of potato chips. “Want some?”

Mikasa dipped her hand in the bag. “Aren’t you scared you’ll get a fine?”

“She says she’ll pay it,” Connie explained, reaching over Jean and Mikasa to grab more.

“Sasha,” Mikasa said sternly. “How many more fines are you going to pay?”

“She’s paid more this month?!” Jean said.

“She has. It’s getting ridiculous, she can’t go on a tramway without getting hungry…” Mikasa stopped herself from talking and settled her eyes on him, with a vague surprised expression on her lovely pale face. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy with work.” Jean said, shrugging, hoping that she wouldn’t see the blush in his cheeks that look of her had caused. He waited a second, wondering if he should bring up that he had, in fact, seen her. “I saw you, though. Drawing, in the Maria building.”

Understanding washed over her face, and her mouth fell open. “You should’ve said hi, Jean.” She said. “It’s a huge classroom, there’s no way I could’ve seen you.”

“I’m sorry.” Jean muttered. Truth was, he hadn’t wanted her to see him in the state he’d been in two weeks ago. With his double shifts at work and his assignments for the end of the semester, Jean had resembled a walking corpse more than a human.

Mikasa was an anthropology and history major and, much like Jean himself, worked part time jobs. However, with her looks, most of her part time jobs were related to modeling. That morning at creative drawing, she’d been hired to pose for the class covered only by a thin sheet. And despite being a class full of professionals, Jean had still not wanted the girl who resembled a goddess to see him bordering a mental breakdown.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” She asked him.

“Does it show that bad?”

Mikasa’s mouth made a perfect O in terror. “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Jean chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It shows. If uni wasn’t free, I would’ve gone broke already.”

“You need to look after your health more, Jean. Have you even been eating well? If you don’t sleep and don’t eat well, you’re just going to burn out,” Mikasa said, then froze, grabbing the hand that was going to reach out to him. “I’m sorry. I just sounded like a mother there.”

“You’re right, though.” Jean replied, smiling at her. “I haven’t been eating well. With work—”

“Is that why you haven’t been to any of the barbecues?”

“You went?”

Mikasa nodded. “We missed you.”

Jean’s head came up with a thousand names to call himself in that moment. He missed his friends enough during the semesters without the knowledge that she’d been hanging out with them at barbecue night. “I’ll make it next time.” He managed to say. “Did Armin go?”

“He’s been busy with moving in with Annie.” Mikasa said, sighing. “I don’t think I’d talk to anyone outside work if it wasn’t for Sasha and Mina.”

“Wait, Armin moved out too?” Jean asked, growing concerned. “Did those two just up and left you alone in that huge apartment?”

“Armin left me some money to pay a couple more months’ worth of rent.” Mikasa said, almost apologizing in Armin’s behalf. Jean’s fists clenched automatically; he’d seen how smitten he was with that marleyan girl, but leaving Mikasa alone to pay for that huge apartment by herself…

“Besides, I insisted,” Mikasa added with a low voice. “I didn’t want him to wallow in self pity with me when he has a perfectly lovely girlfriend.”

Jean sighed tiredly. He should’ve known. Even heart broken, Mikasa cared more about her friend’s happiness than her own economic safety. In a way, it was something that made her all the more charming in his eyes.

“Hey, are you two going to ignore us all the way there?” Connie asked, slapping the back of Jean’s head. “Why did you have to sit in between us if you’re just gonna talk to each other?”

“He’s right,” Sasha said, shaking Mikasa by the shoulder. “Mikasa, pay attention to your best friend now! She brought chips for you!”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes in Sasha’s direction. “Since when do you carry food for anyone but yourself, Braus?”

Sasha’s face contracted into a miserable expression, and she threw herself over Mikasa, hugging her while kissing her head. “Not the last name treatment, Mikasa!”

Maybe a few years ago, Mikasa would’ve thrown Sasha back onto her seat. This time, however, she limited herself to exchange an amused look with him and Connie, patting Sasha’s head in a conciliatory manner. “Alright, alright. Control yourself,” she told Sasha. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? What will Niccolo say if he sees you hugging a woman like this?”

“He’ll probably think we look hot.” Sasha replied innocently.

“What a perv.”

“Mikasa!”

_________________

The tramway took them to the west end of Trost, where high skyscrapers and fancy apartment buildings rose into the sky. The elevator took them a whole thirty floors up to Reine’rs apartment. As soon as they walked in, Jean stared at the ceramic floors, the balcony with its hot tub and view of the distant mountains in the island. When Reiner came to greet them with a hug for each, Jean held him by the shoulders.

“When did you get this rich?” He asked, baffled. How had everyone gotten rich so quick before him?

“My mother and I won the alimony trial last month,” Reiner laughed, hugging him again to then make a wide gesture with his arms at the people in the room. From the way he moved, Jean guessed he was already drunk. “Nineteen years’ worth of unpaid alimony, all paid in full!”

The crowd cheered, raising their beer bottles in the air to celebrate his makeshift toast. “Galliard, Pieck!” Reiner said, stumbling back into the crowd, being caught by the two exchange Marleyan students. “Get the karaoke machine going!”

Sasha and Connie dived into the party in full, going over to Mina, who had her hands full while pouring two bottles of vodka into a large crystal bowl filled with fruits and juice. Jean rubbed his temple; getting drunk wasn’t on his list of priorities, not with so little sleep in his system.

He turned to look at his right, realizing Mikasa stood by the door, watching the crowd move around Reiner’s apartment with apprehension. He took a couple of steps in her direction, leaning against the wall with his hands crossed over his chest, perhaps in a subconscious attempt to appear nonchalant. “See anyone you know?” He asked.

“Too many people.” She muttered in response, rubbing her arms. “Sasha said this was going to be like the barbecue.”

One would think that with her looks and strength, Mikasa would be a little more popular. She’d been an introvert since secondary school, shielded behind the personalities of her two childhood friends. And despite that a few people had managed to break through the cold outer layer of her personality (like Sasha, who’s might as well have gone through it with a war hammer) it always seemed to Jean that there as hidden sadness behind her eyes, a brake of sorts that didn’t allow her to express herself to the fullest.

“Let’s go to the balcony,” she said, pulling his sleeve. “Bring beers.”

Jean almost -almost- felt bad for Reiner’s father as they walked along the balcony. Trost had skyscrapers aplenty, but very few had a perfect look of the suburbs and mountains, and very few had an infinity pool with a hot tub included. The place must’ve costed a fortune. He could almost see his own neighborhood from this height.

They found a set of unoccupied pillowed seats at the corner, far from Reiner’s infinity pool, and sat there to watch the city in silence.

“I live there,” Mikasa said after a while, pointing south to a cluster of colorful buildings. “It’s the big tall one, with the red lights.”

“Ah, party town,” Jean said. He and Marco had tried to find a place there, but the rent had been astronomical, given its strategic location near the universities and clubs. “Was it a big change from the suburbs? That’s where you grew up in, right?”

“It was a huge change from my uncle’s house,” she said, her eyes set on the red building, amused at some memory Jean wasn’t aware of. “He was grossed out when he visited last year.”

“College neighborhood isn’t for him?”

“He said it was too dirty,” Mikasa said, sighing. “Although I’m sure he was terrified at the number of teenagers that threw themselves at him. He said I was to visit him from now on.”

Jean giggled at that. “Girls threw themselves at Levi?”

“Apparently he’s got something that makes university students go crazy.” Mikasa said, making a disgusted noise. Jean laughed again; Levi had been their teacher in middle school. How any college girl found him so appealing, he didn’t understand.

“Well, at least you can have fun in that neighborhood.” Jean said.

Mikasa made another disgusted noise. “I was only there because Eren suggested it. It was too loud for my liking. Too many creeps on the streets. And the rent is too high.”

“How did you guys manage to afford that? I mean, Eren and Armin aren’t precisely rich,” Jean said, covering his mouth as soon as he realized what he’d blurted out. “I’m sorry, Mikasa! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Mikasa said, shaking her head in amusement. “Eren’s brother paid for most of the rent. He works in Marley and sent him money.”

She finished with a sigh, setting her eyes on the floor for a second before taking a sip of her beer. When she turned to look at him, Jean recognized annoyance in her eyes. “Now that he’s gone, Zeke stopped paying for that big chunk of the rent.”

“And Armin moved in with Annie,” Jean finished saying.

“And I’m in that huge place all by myself,” Mikasa said, taking another sip from her bottle. “Scraping my bank account to pay utilities, taking any modeling job that comes up besides working at Sasha’s restaurant, two months behind on rent.”

“Did Sasha offer you money yet?” Jean asked, recalling all the times their friend had tried to hand him checks for his rent.

Mikasa smiled. “A couple of times. But I don’t want to be a burden to her. As good as the restaurant is doing, having her own business can be tricky. One bad luck streak and she’ll be needing that money she offers me.”

“What about a roommate?”

“Nobody I know can afford rent there. I don’t want to disturb Niccolo and Sasha, and Levi has plenty on his plate. And it’s impossible to find a place this late in the year,” Mikasa said, sighing tiredly again. “Do you know how close I am to modeling underwear? A man in this shady company offered me so much money for nudes the other day—”

“Move in with me.” Jean blurted out, and his words were followed by excruciatingly long minutes. Mikasa rested her back against the seat, scrutinizing him with those perfect, serious eyes. “I don’t mean in a weird way. I mean, my rent is much less than yours must be. But ever since Marco left, it’s been harder to afford it on my own. I could use a roommate, and all the people I’ve interviewed were weirdos.”

“Won’t Marco be angry?” Mikasa asked politely. “Won’t he be upset that a girl is living with you?”

Jean smiled. “We’re not together anymore.”

“No?” She said, looking genuinely surprised. “Why? What happened? I thought—”

“Neither wanted a long-distance relationship, or had the money to afford one,” Jean explained, surprised at the lack of pain in his words when he spoke of what had happened. Perhaps, the exhaustion throughout the year had forced his heart to get over a heartbreak quickly.

“Besides,” Jan added, arching his eyebrow in her direction. “I know for a fact that hizuran people are beautiful. I couldn’t deny him having fun over there. So, we decided to stay as friends.”

Mikasa smiled, and Jean blushed. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m not,” Jean replied, leaning back against his seat as well. “I had no idea about you and Eren. You’re our friend since high school, and I had no idea you’d gotten your heart broken too this year. So, I’m not that good of a friend.”

Mikasa rested her hand at her sides, her pinky almost touching his, leaning back to catch sight of the night sky. “You’re in no obligation to carry anyone’s pain, Jean, let alone mine.”

“What do you mean? You’re my friend.”

“I know. We are friends,” Mikasa said quickly, as if noticing the hint of pain her previous words had caused in him. “What I mean is…I knew it was going to happen. I saw the change in Eren. I knew he wouldn’t want to stay put. He was more in love with the idea of freedom than with me. I should’ve ended it a long while ago. So, no need to carry pain that was dragged on for no purpose.”

“And you didn’t want to go with him?”

Mikasa thought about it for a moment. He could hear Reiner and that Pieck girl singing at the top of their lungs inside, as well as Connie’s laughter. And yet, all his mind was set on was her, how her eyes focused on his as she spoke every word, how a bit of lipstick had smudged on the edges of her mouth due to their drinking. Jean had always been aware of Mikasa’s beauty, but he hadn’t been truly enthralled by it in a very long time.

“I don’t think I would’ve gone,” she said at last. “I love the island. I love my home. I want to have a peaceful life here, grow old here. I like seeing new places, but I don’t want to spend my life wandering. He did.”

Jean nodded, understanding her fully. All he’d ever dreamed of was a nice house in the inner districts, alongside the wife -or husband- of his choosing.

“Besides,” Mikasa said with a quiet laugh. “He never asked me to come.”

“What a fucking idiot.”

Mikasa blinked in surprise. “I’m not mad at him, Jean. You don’t need to be in my behalf.”

“I’m not mad on your behalf,” Jean said, shaking his head, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, feeling all of that frustration he’d had towards Eren in high school come back in full. “What kind of idiot do you have to be to break the heart of someone like you?”

“Someone like me?”

“You’re fucking amazing!” Jean said, shocked by the confusion in her face. “Mikasa, you’re gorgeous, smart, strong. You can lift a whole hundred pounds without breaking a sweat…who would want to break your heart?”

Another chuckle escaped her throat, and she gave him a look that he could only describe a sweet. “Thank you,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “My heart was breaking the whole last year we were together, though. I guess in a way, him leaving helped me heal.”

“I hope he falls into a pit.” Jean muttered, then shook his head. “No, I hope I fall into a pit, for not noticing you were hurting before.”

“You had your thing with Marco moving away,” Mikasa replied. “If anything, I was the jerk for not helping you like Connie and Sasha did. I was too focused on trying to force Eren to be happy with me.”

“Still, I should’ve helped.”

“You’re helping now,” Mikasa replied, lifting her pierced eyebrow. “You’re letting me be your roommate, aren’t you?”

Jean took a deep gulp of his beer before speaking. “So, you are taking up on my offer?”

“Yes,” Mikasa said, setting her eyes on the section of town in which he lived in. “If you take up on my offer.”

“Which is?”

“The agency wants a couple male models,” she said, elbowing him playfully. “I heard from Sasha how you’re killing yourself at that part time. This money won’t be great, I do warn you, but it will be better, and you’ll have more time to study.”

The color traveled to his cheeks yet again. “I-I’m not a model, Mikasa.”

“No need to be modest, Kirstein,” she said, scrutinizing him again, her gaze sensing a shock of electricity across him. “I saw you on that beach trip we did. You’ve got nothing to envy from the models.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and Jean’s mind became a storm. Had she just told him she found him attractive? No, it couldn’t be. She’d just said he had nothing to envy from male models. But that was just a creative way to call someone hot, wasn’t it? She had no reasons to call him hot, however.

“Jean, I think—”

“Niccolo!” Sasha’s shouted drunkenly, startling the two in their seats. It wasn’t until they turned in her direction that Jean realized how close their faces had been to each other.

“Alright, alright. Do it again.” Niccolo laughed, sounding quite drunk himself. Sasha grabbed her shirt and tightened it around her waist, showing him her bloated stomach.

Niccolo giggled. “It’s adorable! It does look like you’re pregnant,” he said between snorts. “How many garlic buns did you eat back there?”

“Why are you calling your baby a garlic knot, Niccolo?!” Sasha half-laughed, half cried, only causing Niccolo to laugh harder. They were soon on the floor, struggling to catch their breath because of their laughter, and Jean was grateful for the protective mesh at the edge of the balcony.

“They’re drunk.”

“They’re high.” Mikasa said, casting a glance inside. “Ymir and Historia are here.”

“No wonder they’re high.” Jean chuckled. Historia wore a beautiful pink dress, looking as happy as ever with Ymir’s hands around her waist. Ymir, as always, wore a dark suit. As always, she was more focused on kissing Historia’s neck than the conversation around her. They’d been inseparable since their wedding, and from the sparkling necklace around Historia’s neck, Jean supposed their business was growing well.

Mikasa grabbed his sleeve. “Do you want to go get some?”

“You smoke that stuff?” Jean asked, wondering when he’d smoked anything last.

“Not really.” Mikasa admitted, looking at Sasha laughing on the floor while placing a thousand drunken kisses on Niccolo’s forehead. “It looks like they’re having fun, though.”

“We could do it to celebrate,” Jean said, shrugging. “You know, each of just found a good roommate and we might not be as broke from now on.”

“You are sure about the roommate matter?” Mikasa asked, frowning. “You’ll have to take a few visits from my uncle.”

“I’ll cope.” Jean said, looking at Niccolo and Sasha. “Are you sure? What if Eren returns and gets mad?”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “He can get as mad as he wants. I won’t care.” She said, and from her tone of voice , Jean knew she was done talking about Eren for the time being. She looked more annoyed at the inconveniences that Eren had caused her than heart broken. Perhaps, the exhaustion had forced her to get over a heartbreak quick, as well.

Jean offered her his hand. “Shall we, my lady?”

“You’re still an idiot,” Mikasa said, intertwining her arm with his. “Thank you, by the way.”

“No, thank you,” he said, using his other hand to take their bottles. He offered one to her and lifted his own. “Toast? For roommates?”

“For roommates.” Mikasa said. Their bottles clang together, their sound foretelling a change of wind for the two, perhaps.

______________________

Gabi walked along the bookstore holding onto Falco’s arm. She and her mother spent summers with her cousin Reiner in the island. And despite this being her fifth year visiting him and despite the luxuries of his apartment, she missed him terribly each time she left. So, she clung to him before and after her journeys, enjoying their time together as if it were a treasure.

“Want to get an ice cream afterwards?” He asked.

“The place by the zeppelin museum?” Falco nodded in response, and Gabi smiled widely. “Alright, then. But it’s my treat this time.”

“Let me buy the comic books this time, at least,” he said, pulling out a book with a few giants on the cover. “This looks good, doesn’t it?”

Gabi frowned at the sight of the naked giants. “I hate historical fiction.”

“It’s not like titans were real, Gabi,” Falco said, running through the pages. “This is mostly political-oriented. See? They even consulted a historian from Paradis to write it.”

“Hey, I know her!” Gabi said excitedly, looking at the picture of the main consultant from the work. “She’s the head of the anthropology museum at the island. She’s Reiner’s friend.”

“Is she?” Falco said, his eyes wide as he stared at the picture of Mikasa, who wore a fancy pantsuit and had her hair up in a ponytail. Unlike at the parties, her make up in this was formal, no bright pink lipstick, no dark eyeshadow. “She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Falco!” Gabi said, then took a second look at the picture. “You’re right, she’s really pretty. Her husband is a lucky guy. He always says it himself.”

“Oh, she’s married?”

“Yeah, she married a friend of hers, I think. It was a late spring wedding, so I didn’t get to go. They’ve got a baby on the way and everything,” Gabi said, scrunching up her nose. “He’s friends with Reiner too, but I can’t recall the guy’s name.”

“Gabi, you see those people every summer,” Falco said, his kind face showing a slight hint of repeoach. “You should at least learn their names.”

“Reiner has way too many friends for me to remember,” Gabi replied, not wanting to admit that she did need to be a little more polite to them. “I do remember he had a bit of a horse face.”

“A horse face?” Falco said, horrified. “This woman here married a guy with a horse face?”

Gabi smiled amusedly. “She seemed quite smitten by him. Every time I go and they’re there, they’re always all lovey dovey. Kissing, hugging, they can’t keep their hands off each other,” she said, tilting her head to the side with a flirty smile. “Besides, it was just a nickname. The man is handsome, and taller than most guys, too.”

“Gabi, don’t talk so kindly about married men.” Falco said, closing the magazine with his cheeks flushed. Although his expression caused her own smile to grow wider.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, then placed a fleeting peck on his lips. “You’re way more handsome than horse face. And, you still have more years to grow. I’m sure that you’ll be taller than him by when we get married.”

“Gabi!” Falco said, flushing harder.

#Jeankasa #jeankasaweek2021 #JeanMika #jean kirschtien #Mikasa Ackerman #Jeankasa Week 2021 #fanfic #drug mention

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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, semi-public sex, foodplay, a lot of sloppy making out, creampie is not the only type of dessert involved, very soft dom!jin, sub!reader, unprotected sex but who’s surprised, dom!hoseok, waxplay, painplay, very explicit discussion about consent since waxplay is technically edgeplay, restraints, cuffs, flogging, hobi in his element is a kink in and of itself, degradation, discipline, subspace, scratching, rough sex, hoseok going the extra mile honestly, still unprotected sex, cumshot

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and sponsored by the red room

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

The vote is at the end of this chapter.

DAY TWENTY

Though it’s the weekend (as if that has any real significance when you aren’t really working) you wake up tragically early, before the sun’s even risen.

Unsure of what woke you, you rub your eyes and duck your head out into the hallway. To your surprise, there’s the distinct yellowish glow from a light on downstairs. It’s hard to walk down the stairs when your head is full of cotton, your eyes still bleary and your mouth constantly stretched in a yawn, but finally you stumble down into the main space.

Frozen, with a metal spoon hanging out of his mouth and his eyes wide and red, is the oldest man of the house. He leans dejectedly against the kitchen counter, haunting a tub of ice cream that’s definitely not intended for one person. You quickly realise what may have woken you is the obnoxious whir of the microwave, something in a covered glass jar twirling round and round inside.

“What-” you swallow and clear your throat when the word comes out croaky, “what are you doing here so early? Are you okay?”

Still startled by your presence, he blinks a few times and removes the spoon from his mouth, letting it clatter to the table. “I’ve been better.”

Your face drops in sympathy, ignoring the freezing tile on your feet as you approach him. Without waiting for permission, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close to you in a tight hug. “What’s up, Jinnie? You can be honest with me. If you let me have some of your ice cream, of course.”

That manages to pull a weak laugh from him as he hands you the spoon and ruffles your hair. “I am, as it turns out,” he explains, “incredibly stupid.”

“Ah.” You dig into the tub of ice cream one handed, dislodging a chunk of what looks like brownie. “First of all, I disagree, but more importantly, why do you think that?”

“Do you have an hour?” Jin sighs at the poor attempt at lightening his own mood. “To tell you the truth, and this may come as a shock to you, but-”

“Is this about Yoongi and you fucking?”

Jin pulls back, staring you down with a bewildered expression.

You swallow a cold mouthful, furrowing your brows apologetically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. Go on.”

“I- How did you- Who knows?”

You hum for a minute, tapping the end of the spoon against your lips. “Oh, I’d imagine everyone,” you summarise. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit.” You wince as you recall a few particular evenings. “Nor is volume control.”

“Right.” Jin has the good grace to look sheepish at that, but gently tugs the spoon back. The microwave beeps noisily behind you, and he curses, rushing over to pull the jar out. “Anyways, yes, Yoongi and I have been casual for a short time now, but things are messy. And I suppose I sort of thought they were good messy, but last night I realised how very not-good messy they were. I haven’t been fair to Yoongi. Or you.”

You tilt your head, watching him uncover a lightly steaming jar full of what looks and smells like caramel. “Me? What does this have to do with me?”

Jin opens his mouth, grimaces, and closes it again. After a few moments of silence where he stirs the sauce and tastes a bit of it, he finally faces you to speak. “After the fight, you didn’t really...say anything about what you found out. My feelings for you, I mean. Not that you were at all obligated to, of course, but I wanted to give you space. And… I wanted to have space too, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so when Yoongi expressed interest in me, I thought him and I could help each other out.”

He pours some of the sauce directly into the tub of icecream, but then puts it down and rests his forearms on the countertop, really leans his whole body weight onto them like it’s hard to stay standing. “Yoongi has feelings for me,” he explains. “I don’t know if you know that too, but- yeah. He said- even as recently as yesterday, he said he was fine, but I should know better. It’s irresponsible of me to take his words as gospel when I can so clearly see, as his friend and as a trained therapist, that he isn’t okay.”

You want to wait until he’s said his piece, but your chest feels hot, like your ribs are smouldering coals. You can’t stop your tongue. “I don’t need space.”

Jin blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t need space,” you repeat in a warm voice, “I don’t want you to be distant. Fuck Yoongi if you want, but don’t do it just because you’re avoiding me. You’re right; that isn’t fair to either of us.”

“I know,” he concedes, shoveling another spoonful of melted ice cream and sauce into his mouth to buy him some thinking time. “It’s getting out of hand, too. Just yesterday Jungkook asked to join and- God, this is such a mess. I should end it, shouldn’t I?”

Your tongue tingles with the urge to press about Jungkook. Feeling like that isn’t really Jin’s priority right now, you change tact. “Do you want to end it?”

Jin furrows his brows, deep in thought. Clad in blue and white striped pyjamas, his face seems far too serious for his attire, but it’s clear this is really eating away at him if he’s up so early thinking about it. Had he even gone to bed at all? “I don’t want to,” he admits, “being with Yoongi is so easy. And not like- not logistically, I’m not saying Yoongi is easy, but… God, I don’t know how to say this without it being soppy. It feels right. But at what point do I stop doing what I want and start thinking about others? I need to do what’s best for Yoongi.”

It’s hard conveying any semblance of intelligent thought when you probably have not even half of the whole story, but you do your best for him. “Is that a decision you should be making on his behalf, though? I feel like you should be having this conversation with him.”

Jin sighs, placing the spoon down so it doesn’t clatter. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been going over and over it in my head. My reasons for sleeping with him aren’t all noble or genuine or even fair. And I know he has feelings for me. I think if I let this continue I’ll be hurting him. So surely ending it is the right thing to do?”

You mull it over a moment. “It seems like you already know the answer, Jin,” you offer up softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Jin bites his lip, eyes distant. “If I text him, if I tell him that we need to talk, or that we shouldn’t do it anymore, then… You said you didn’t need space. So can we talk? About us?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, though your heart rate quickens at the thought, “that’s probably for the best, too.”

“Alright.” Jin wipes his hands on his shirt pants, whether it’s to get off the stickiness of the dessert or sweat you don’t know, but soon enough he’s slipping his phone out and hunkering down on the kitchen tile floor.

You join him, scooching up so that your shoulders bump. With your back against the cabinets and your lower half on those icy tiles, normally you’d be shivering. But Jin’s body is like a radiator, and he leans into you as he unlocks his phone and pulls up Yoongi’s contact.

For his privacy, you try not to look, but you can’t help but notice the name for Yoongi is Min City, and that their recent texts are calls for late-night rendezvous. Jin takes a deep breath, his thumbs hovering over the keypad. “What do I even say?” he muses out loud. “I’m a therapist; why can’t I even work out a good ‘we should talk’ text?”

You hook your hand under his arm, tucking it to your side. “Start off by apologising for texting him at ass o’clock in the morning,” you jibe.

Jin pauses. “I’ll probably rephrase,” he admits, “but that’s solid.”

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. |

“Okay, what next?” Jin says in a shortened breath.

You let out a light laugh. “This is your message,” you remind him, “but fine. How about this? Tell him that you’ve been thinking a lot, which you have, and that you just can’t keep sleeping with him in good conscience because you don’t feel like it’s wise. And maybe, like, tell him to come find you when he reads it so you can have a proper chat. It shouldn’t just be done over text, you know?”

“That’s true… Okay, here goes.” Jin swallows hard as he types away, and were it not for the fact that these were your friends who were involved, you’d laugh at the cheesiness of the moment. Like something off a trashy k-drama, though your life felt more and more like one every day anyway.

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. i’ve been doing a lot of thinking after our talk, and i just really don’t think us doing this is a good idea anymore. please let me know when you get this. we can talk it over a bit. |

“Is that all I need?”

You shrug. “I guess so. Unless you wanna add an ‘xoxo’ to the end of it.”

Jin bites his lip. “That may send mixed messages.”

“It was a joke, Jinnie,” you protest, shoving him playfully. “Anyway, are you gonna send i-”

A loud ding cuts you off, echoing slightly in the otherwise silent house. Above the box of text Jin had been crafting, a new strip of grey appears.

The both of you freeze, staring in disbelief at the screen. “Did he just..?” Before you can even finish that sentence, a second chime rings out again, and the screen shifts to display more grey, slightly smaller than the first.

“Looks like,” Jin murmurs, scrolling up to view the new message. “Holy shit.”

I’m sure you’re still asleep jin-hyung, so just text me when you get this but yesterday i was lying when i said i was fine, because i’m really not and jungkook has really helped to give me a little perspective so i’m sorry if you still need someone to distract you but i’m not gonna be that someone anymore

No hard feelings btw, i still feel the same way about you but i don’t think we should have sex for a while, i just need some distance. I like to think that you’d want me to put myself first and i’m doing that now. I hope you can understand

“That… I guess that’s that sorted,” Jin says slowly, tapping the screen to delete his message. “Should I reply now?” He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he locks the phone. “No, I’ll wait until later. He won’t be expecting a reply now, anyway. Hopefully he can get some sleep.” His eyes turn sad. “Do you think he was up all night stressing about that?”

“Hey,” you warn lowly, “don’t guilt yourself. The two of you can straighten things out later, and sleep better tonight. Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He releases a slow breath, his body heavy with unshed tension. For a moment, the two of you stay silent, you giving him time to process. When he speaks, he shuffles his whole body around to face you. “I know why you’ve been so hesitant,” he announces suddenly.

You frown. “Wait, what? Hesitant?”

“Yes,” he insists, “you haven’t really talked at all about if you return my feelings. I used to feel really confused and hurt by it, but I get it now.”

Your stomach rolls strangely, a feeling like being caught red-handed. “What do you mean?”

“Last night,” he explains, “I came up to tell everyone that dinner wasn’t far away. You weren’t in your room, and Taehyung wasn’t in his…” He trails off meaningfully, and realisation settles in your bones, not shock, but resignation.

“Oh.” You swallow, sitting up so you’re no longer leaning towards him. “You saw us? In Jimin’s room?”

“I won’t tell,” he begins automatically, “and it’s okay. I see that you’ve been answered for already. I’ll respect that.”

“It isn’t like that,” you say reflexively, “we - god, we weren’t supposed to let anyone know, I can’t believe we didn’t lock the door - but we aren’t together together. It would be too messy, and it was putting a strain on our relationships with everyone else, you know?”

Jin frowns, like he’s trying to work it all out. “So it isn’t a romantic relationship?”

You smile thinking of Taehyung’s loving brown eyes and Jimin’s gentle embrace. “It’s a promise,” you explain softly, wrapping your arms around your torso. “We aren’t making any commitments or ties now, and we obviously can’t be exclusive, so it’s a promise that once we’re out of here, we’ll try and explore our feelings. Do it right.”

The therapist takes in a deep breath, nodding. “Then where do I fit into all of this? Does that mean I have a chance?”

“I-” You bite your lip, avoiding his imploring gaze. “It would feel wrong getting into a relationship when I’d decided that I wouldn’t do it with them. If that makes sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he assures, “but that’s not what I mean. I don’t need to be in a relationship with you to treat you right, Y/n. I just want to know if there’s a chance in hell that you return my feelings.”

You lift your eyes at this, staring at the way his soften in response. Your heart thuds in your chest and there’s a liquid relief pumping through your veins that he’s willing to stay by you. If you didn’t already know it before, those sensations certainly make it clear. “I like you, Jin. A lot.”

He smiles in relief, a small and sweet one that makes his eyes crinkle. Rather than responding verbally, he slips one large palm around the nape of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss.

Eyes slipping shut the moment he comes close, you reach out blindly for him and fist your hand in the thin fabric of his pyjamas to steady yourself. His lips are so plush, and moving so slowly, that it feels like they could slow down time itself. There’s no urgency in the sensual way he kisses you, but you can nonetheless taste his elation sweeter than the remnants of caramel on his tongue.

In that same way, you have no idea how much time passes with your mouths locked together, slowly warming the kitchen floor with your body heat until your skin feels on fire. Even the slightest details, like his fingertips on the back of your neck and your inner wrist make you dizzy.

You break apart for air, still clinging to him like you’d drown without his touch. Panting, you try to slow your racing heart. Your lips still tingle, and reach up to brush your fingers against them in wonder. “Oh, wow,” you whisper dumbly.

Jin smiles, then, a brilliant one that warms his whole face. “Wow,” he repeats. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you like that for a long time, Y/n.”

Barely able to think, you find your eyes slipping down to his lips, how swollen they are, dusky pink. “You can do it again, if you want.”

Jin goes to lean forward, but halts, looking up to the countertop. “One sec,” he hedges, “I’m determined to continue my opportunist streak.”

“Your what?” You chuckle at first, but as he reaches up and drags the jar of caramel sauce down, your eyes quickly widen in realisation.

Jin catches your look, sending you a wink. “Open up,” he instructs, and you drop your jaw without hesitation, anticipation heightening your senses.

When he tips the lip of the container forward, and you feel that warm sweetness burst on your tongue, you moan, tilting your head back so it pools in your mouth. But instead of stopping, he continues to pour, until you feel it threaten to spill out. “Too much,” you try to say, but you can’t move your tongue or lips enough to enunciate it.

Jin only pulls the jar away when it begins to drip down your chin, and like a man starved, he leans in and licks into your mouth without abandon.

You moan as you feel his tongue cut through the molten sugar, running over yours, over your teeth and lips and even ducking down to messily swipe up the stickiness on your face. No matter how much he ravishes you, the moment you begin to kiss back, your tongue lifts and a thick wave of hot caramel slips between your mouths, no doubt getting on your pyjama shirt.

Jin doesn’t seem to care; on the contrary, he moans and clasps your face in both hands, nipping at your lips and deepening the kiss more than you even thought possible. Slowly, the sweetness of caramel gives way to his own taste, and you’re left licking each other filthily, entwined together on the kitchen floor.

Once your chest is aching with a lack of oxygen, you pull away with a gasp, wincing at the weird feeling of caramel on your chest. “So messy,” you groan, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d pour so much.”

Jin’s eyes just light up with mirth. “Messy is the point, baby. We probably have, what-” he pauses to consult the time on the microwave, “two hours before the early risers are up? Why don’t we make an even bigger mess? I’ve decided I’d like to have my dessert first.”

You press your lips together to prevent a moan, nodding frantically. “Fuck, please. I want you.”

The therapist’s chest hitches, but he reaches out to squeeze your thigh. “Lie back, then, baby. Can you take your shirt off for me?”

You’re in such a hurry to obey him, shivering violently at the cold tile against your bare back, that when you suddenly feel a cold burst on your chest you jump, getting a fright.

There’s not enough time to feel that burst of ice, however, as a hot tongue quickly laps it up, collecting every last drop. Jin even sucks the skin there, just above the swell of your breast, to make sure he’s cleaned you up.

You writhe on the floor, your panties uncomfortably soaked, but Jin just throws a leg and an arm over you, straddling you and caging you against the floor. His weight against you makes you moan, that delicious sensation of being trapped exactly where you most want to be.

This time, when he digs his spoon into the slightly-melted ice cream, he pops it into his mouth instead of on your skin. You almost assume he’s just taking some for himself, but then he’s dipping his head and wrapping those sinful lips around one of your nipples, making you cry out.

The cold is immediately overwhelming, tightening and stiffening your peak, and the dizzying mix of his hot tongue with that cold dessert has you clinging to his back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “F-fuck, Jin,” you gasp, “so cold.”

“Is it?” Jin quips, his hand reaching to his side. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby.”

Without giving you a moment’s respite, he’s drizzling trails of caramel over your breasts, and lapping it up with ravenous enthusiasm. Though the caramel has gone mostly room-temperature, the contrast against your cooled nipple just makes it feel that much more electric, and you arch your back harshly until Jin finally reaches it and soothes it with his mouth.

You moan, wishing you had something to rut against, some type of friction where you needed it most, but Jin’s more focused on licking, nipping and sucking the sugar off of your body, leaving you trembling. “More,” you plead needily.

“More sauce? More ice cream?” he asks, panting as his own arousal presses stiffly against your lower stomach.

“More you,” you beg, arching up into him, making him curse lowly.

Like desperate virgins, you both quickly discard the last of your clothing, Jin just about popping the buttons of his shirt clean off, and it feels simultaneously like a second and a century before you feel his familiar girth pressing into you, stretching your dripping walls.

You groan, the back of your head knocking against the tile as you go slack, letting yourself focus fully on the sensation of him filling you up. “Fuck, Jin,” you gasp out, legs wrapping around his torso as he goes deeper and deeper.

When he bottoms out, however, Jin doesn’t begin fucking you straight away. Instead, he reaches for the jar. “Tongue out, baby,” he instructs.

Swallowing the drool that gathers in your mouth from the pleasure, you stick out your tongue until you feel it on your chin, awaiting the stream. Clearly wanting to be as messy as possible, Jin intentionally lifts his hand higher so that instead of a mouthful, you get whippings of sugar all over your neck, chin, and cheeks. Hardly any actually makes it in your mouth, but the therapist just chuckles and puts the jar beside him, bending down to run his tongue in a broad swipe up your cheek.

You squeal, turning your head to the side, but the surprise quickly bubbles into arousal as he laps up every last drop, sucking hickies into your neck all the way. The longer he goes, the more you need him, wetter and wetter around his cock. Rocking your hips just to get some friction, you whine into the silence of the kitchen. “Jin, fuck me already,” you plead.

Jin’s first thrust punches all the air out of you. He snaps his hips hard enough to push your body forward from the tile, then grabs your waist with a low growl, pinning you against the floor.

Though the tiles are still cold, your body heat is quickly taking the edge off, and being fucked against such a hard surface is a new feeling to you entirely. There’s no give, no bounce. When Jin begins fucking you at a greedy pace, you feel every inch of him stretching you open.

Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, trying not to moan loud enough that the sound would travel upstairs, but barely able to even contain them at all. “Fucking me so go-mmf!” Your mouth is filled with a cold intruder, and you suck hard, swirling your tongue around the two fingers covered with ice cream. Jin curses lowly at the feeling, and suddenly he’s picking up the pace even more.

You cry out around his fingers, hands flailing to find something to latch onto and anchor yourself, but your knuckles whack into something solid. The ache in your fingers is quickly drowned out by the sudden rush of thick wetness on your stomach, and your eyes fly open, choking on Jin’s digits.

His thrusts slow down and he pulls his hand away and before you can say a single thing, the room is filled with the contagious sound of his laughter. Cock still buried deep inside you, and one hand dripping with caramel, holding onto the near-empty jar, Jin howls, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Hey!” you whine, pouting when the caramel disperses over you, soon dripping down onto your back and the floor. “Don’t laugh at me! You wouldn’t like it if your chest was drenched in caramel!”

Jin discards the jar beside him with a sticky clink, and composes himself, though that glint still remains alight in his eyes. “Oh, wouldn’t I?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he’s bending down until your chests are pressed together, separated only by that slippery layer of sauce.

A muffled squeak leaves your lips when he captures them again, his fingers scratching lines up your sides, making you shiver. You try to protest his attempt at tickling you while you were vulnerable, but then he’s rocking his hips, shallow strokes that grind into you so deep.

You moan, wrapping your arms around his back. Every time you feel his nails cutting through the syrup, you scratch his back. Instead of deterring him, however, he just groans into your mouth and doubles his efforts at fucking you.

Slowly, his hands move around from your sides to your back, and you cling to him tighter as he lifts you off the kitchen floor. Still delving his tongue deep into your mouth, he pulls you up until your torso is arched against him and your head tips back slightly, a perfect halfway point between horizontal and vertical, and uses the extra momentum to thrust up into you harder. The angle hits your g-spot roughly with every snap of his hips, and your clit grinds against his cock.

You cry out and lose contact with his mouth, but he just latches it onto your neck instead, dragging his teeth over your shoulder to let the cooled caramel pool in his mouth.

“Jinnie, I’m close,” you confess in a rush, your orgasm quickly building with a pressure between your legs. Something in the way your toes curl and stomach tenses warns you that this will be a powerful one, and your cries increase in pitch and volume, every breath a moan. “Jinnie! Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-”

“Make another mess for me, baby,” Jin groans, and with those words alone your vision goes white.

Jin curses when you lock up around him - legs and arms and pussy alike - but continues to rut against you as you ride the churning wave of your high. Burying your head into the crook of his neck so that you don’t wake the others with your keening scream, you feel a sudden burst inside you that leaves you trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

You feel Jin’s chin pressing into your hair as he glances down, grunting with exertion, and suddenly he’s freezing, holding you tightly to him as he cums inside of you.

The warmth of him filling you is the perfect soother as you come down from that intense climax, and you sigh as he leans forward, lying you back down on the kitchen tile. The two of you fight to catch your breath, the only sounds in the room your joint gasps.

Above you, Jin’s chest heaves, dripping with caramel just like yours must be. He doesn’t take any bother though, wiping away the sweat on his brow with a clean patch of his forearm. “Man,” he exclaims with a cheery chuckle, “you really did make a mess, huh?”

“What?” you ask blearily, weakly propping yourself up on your elbows to glance down. Thinner and clearer than the caramel, a liquid drips over yours and Jin’s stomachs, running down to the tile. You’d squirted. With a weak groan, you let yourself collapse back onto the sticky floor. “It’s too early for this,” you whine. “Oh, god. We have to clean this up.”

Jin’s smile is wiped clear off his face. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t even think about that, my notes didn’t mention it…”

“Your notes?” you ask curiously, grimacing when Jin slowly pulls himself out of you, a stream of cum following and joining the mess of liquids on the floor. “What notes?”

The therapist lets out a nervous laugh as he gets up off the floor, grabbing a clean dish cloth from the bottom drawer. “I did some research, that’s all. Like, no spicy stuff near any mucous membranes because of the sting, no sugar in the vulva otherwise you might get a yeast infection-”

“Eugh,” you cut in, “I’m glad you did the research, but that just makes me want a shower even more now.”

“Go shower, then,” Jin allows with a sympathetic smile, wetting the cloth and beginning to wipe off the stickiness on his chest. “I can clean this up for you.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist, “I’ll quickly wash this off, but I’m coming back down to help you. The sun’s about to rise, so if we work together, maybe there won’t still be cummy sauce all over the floor when the others come down for breakfast.”

“It is probably a safety hazard,” Jin admits. “Okay, then, we’ll clean it together. I’ll have a quick shower once you get back.”

You beam up at him but, before you grab your clothes and rush up the stairs, you rise onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to his sugared lips. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Jin returns your warm smile, ducking down to steal another kiss, and another, and another until you’re giggling and ducking away. “I’ll do my best.”

“You aren’t being particularly subtle.”

Hoseok shrugs at Yoongi. “I’m not trying to be subtle.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow. “Then tell us what’s in the box.”

Hoseok hesitates. “I’m trying to be a little bit subtle.”

Taehyung groans, reaching out for the heavy cardboard box and glaring reproachfully at Hoseok when he smacks his hand away. “Could we have a clue?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly. “No.”

“Then why is it on the table?” the masseuse whines miserably. “You’re just teasing us!”

“I don’t know why you’re so bothered,” Yoongi notes, “it’s not even for you.”

Perhaps you’d be more bemused by the antics of the boys at the table were it not for your own rampant curiosity. As usual, your days were measured by communal mealtimes (courtesy of the fact that six of you were too lazy to cook for yourselves, and the remaining too were perfectly happy to make enough for you all) but this time, as you enjoyed a pan-seared fish of some sort, the flow of the table was interrupted by the package that Hoseok had so dramatically dropped down in front of him. “What is it on the table for?” you ask in what you hope is a casual, unbothered tone.

Hoseok sighs patiently like he’s been through this before. “It’s to create an atmosphere of anticipation,” he explains importantly. “This is reality TV gold, guys, this is exactly what the editors would put a close-up of right before the ad break.”

Jin furrows his brows. “I don’t think there are ad breaks, Hobi.”

“You get what I mean,” he huffs petulantly before clearing his throat, “anyway, let’s change the topic. Any gossip? Love declarations, plot twists; what have I missed?”

Jungkook opens his mouth, beside him Yoongi quickly places a hand on his thigh, and the younger boy sinks back into his chair. “Just the usual for me.” If you weren’t already looking at him, you might have missed the slip of a smile that he presses his lips together to suppress. “Except for the extra dicks I’ve been sucking.”

“Jungkook!” Yoongi shrieks, before sitting up straight. “Wait. Dicks, plural?”

“Well, yeah, Taehyung can’t fuck Y/n anymore, so…” Jungkook deflects. Across the table, Taehyung wordlessly throws his hands in the air in a ‘what can you do?’ type gesture. “It’s like an emergency relief fund but sex,” the youngest explains, “I’m very generous like that.”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open, his breezy demeanour fading. “Hey! You only sucked my dick because you said my technique was off!”

Jungkook smiles glacially at the rest of you. “I’m a giver,” he continues, “much like Yoongi, I teach on the side.” He pouts at Taehyung. “And your technique was off!”

“It was better than your sloppy toppy!” Taehyung defends. “I wanted a blowjob, not a shower.”

“Listen,” Jin says sharply as Jungkook lets out an offended cry, “the only way you’ll ever know for sure is if you have an objective party to compare the two directly.”

Jungkook harrumps, crossing his arms. “What; are you offering?”

Jin pauses. “To have...my dick sucked twice by two very attractive and enthusiastic people? Yes, yes I am.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “You’re so on,” he threatens, “when I win, you have to let me join your stream.”

Jungkook’s already leaving the table, dragging Jin up by a handful of his hoodie. “Such a shame you’re not going to, then,” he taunts, “when you lose, you have to give me a full-body massage and no skimping on the back.”

The rest of you watch in speechless bemusement as Taehyung huffs and throws his chair back, hurrying after them. “Maybe if you didn’t slump in your chair so much, you wouldn’t have a sore back in the first place! Wait, Jungkook, not so fast, I just ate…”

Once the three have left, Yoongi clears his throat. “The gossips have left,” he states carefully, eyes serious as they watch Hoseok, “so what’s in the box?”

Hoseok giggles and claps his hands together, clearly delighted with the attention this box has given me. “You know, the more you ask, the less likely I am to show you.”

Yoongi immediately makes his expression sour, turning up his nose. “I don’t even want to see what’s inside the box,” he insists, “I don’t care at all.”

“Sure thing, hyung.”

The academic is next to have a go. With gentle eyes and shy fingers, Namjoon props his hands on the very edge of the table and looks over to Hoseok. “What if you just showed us one?” he bargains. “It just seems like such a shame to get them delivered all the way over here and not get to show more people.”

Hoseok purses his lips, still unconvinced. At the head of the table, Jimin lets out a scoff and stands up, picking his plate and cup off the table to go discard them in the dishwasher. “It’s going to be something boring,” he drawls, bending over slowly to put away the dishes, letting the table get an eyeful of the tight black jeans he’s wearing. “He’ll wrap Y/n up in rope like tinsel on a Christmas tree and call it BDSM.”

An indignant cry comes from the table as Hoseok watches Jimin reach into the fridge, pulling out a single raspberry from the fruit drawer in there, and grin rakishly at the older man. “That’s not true at all,” Hoseok defends insistently, “I’m just easing her into it. Besides; let me show you something from the box and then we’ll see what you think.”

“How- wha-?” Yoongi’s mouth drops open as Hoseok reaches for the box and uses a knife from the lunch to cut the tape down the middle. “He doesn’t even like you! Why was he the one to convince you?”

Hoseok barely takes note, shielding the opening from your eyes as he digs around inside. It’s near impossible to restrain your curiosity, but you curl your ankles around the chair legs and force yourself to stay seated as he shoves his hand in.

You hear clinks, thuds, and scrapes, before Hoseok lets out a triumphant gasp and pulls his arm up, retrieving a braided leather handle, which he lifts out of the box to reveal a whip of sorts, complete with a neat pile of clean-cut leather strips. Your eyes widen as Hoseok sets it on the table with a weighty thunk, closing the box back up.

“Too boring for you?” Hoseok asks of Jimin with a challenging stare. One finger lazily trails along one of the tails of leather, neatly folded in a gathered loop on the table, making you swallow harshly at the thought of what one of those might feel like lashing across your skin.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jimin returns to the table, inspecting it slowly. “And what are you going to do with that, big boy? Such a big flogger; I must admit, it seems like you’re overcompensating.”

Hoseok scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips. “I’ve caught you staring enough times, Peaches,” he taunts, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

This time, Jimin seems almost expectant of the nickname, and just rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you noticed, seeing as your eyes are always locked onto my ass. Bet you wish you had a handful, huh?”

Hoseok frowns, pushing himself away from the table. “Did I eat too much or did the thought of dirtying my hands with you make me physically sick?” he questions rhetorically, making Jimin huff. “Anyways, I’ve got a scene to set up. Best for last, and all that.”

With a flourish, Hoseok picks up the whip - or, as Jimin had said, flogger - handle between two fingers and throws the tail of leather strips over his shoulder, lifting the box into his arms with a light grunt of exertion. Suddenly, he turns his gaze to you, warm but firm. “The downstairs bathroom; be there in half an hour wearing your underwear and only your underwear.”

You suck in a breath when he suddenly leans in close, hoisting the box on his hip as he uses the opposite hand to reach out and fiddle with your bra strap, snapping it against your shoulder with a teasing smile. “If you want to make Master happy,” he says in a voice like crushed velvet, “pick something pretty.”

Hoseok disappears down the hallway with all the drama of a Disney villain, sans a cape to billow behind him, and Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, getting up from his chair. “Well, I’m going to go outside and try and forget about all the debauchery in here. Anyone else?”

Namjoon straightens up immediately, hips bumping against the table. “Sounds good to me,” he rushes out, still looking a little pale from seeing that sneak peek of Hoseok’s box of toys.

Jimin, on the other hand, glances up towards the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “You two go ahead,” he states, “I think the little ones upstairs could use another judge.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift, almost looking like he’s about to reconsider his choice to leave, but Namjoon is already suggesting they could bring out some board games or a pack of cards, and as usual Yoongi is softer than he likes to think he is.

Once everyone has left you alone in the living room, you slump back onto the table, letting out a breath. Your skin is already tingling relentlessly wondering what those strips of leather would feel like raining down on your skin. And that tool must have only been taking up a small portion of that box. It was heavy, full with other surprises that you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Taking a look at the time, you curse and scamper upstairs to track down something pretty for Hoseok.

It’s impossible to stop your mind from conjuring up countless images of what could be waiting for you. Big posts of metal or wood to tie a sub to, chains and latex and the Hollywood taboo of kink that comes to mind. But in the end, it seems trying to picture anything at all was a useless venture, as when you make it downstairs and knock on the door exactly thirty minutes after Hoseok let you, what’s inside is not anything you would have ever expected.

The bathroom itself is decently large, with flat tile all over, a row of showerheads without the luxury of cubicles, a large bath set into one corner, and a bench with a mirror.

But in the middle of the room, closer to the bench than the showers, sits Hoseok.

There’s nothing around him bar a single empty chair that he inclines his head towards, silently instructing you to sit. You glance around in suspicion, but the cardboard box is folded up just beside him and there’s nothing else to see.

Hoseok himself quite easily takes his spot as the centre of attention, though. As you sit gingerly on the wooden chair, grimacing at the scraping sound of the legs on the floor, you look him over. As usual, he makes his statement in black. Hoseok dons boots that lace up to just below his knees, tight leather pants, and a collared shirt that shimmers slightly in the light, like expensive silk. Around his middle is a belt that tightly cinches his waist, accentuating his chest and shoulders. With his hair parted and slightly curling to one side, you don’t miss the way his eyebrow quirks up. “Are you quite done?”

Your cheeks heat, and you lean back until you can feel the chair digging in. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Sorry, Sir,” you stutter out as quickly as you can, lowering your gaze.

“Dear me, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners already,” he croons with a faux look of disappointment, crossing a leg over his knee. “Lucky for you, our scene hasn’t started yet. I want to have a little conversation with you first.”

You swallow, eyes darting down to that cardboard box, curiosity eating you up from the inside. “What do you want to talk about, sir?”

Hoseok’s eyes soften slightly and he laces his fingers over the top of his knee. “You and I are going to have a talk together as two adults, princess. I know we have the consent forms and safewords, but this one requires a little more direct communication. Normally in a scene, you’d be kneeling or I’d be standing right now, but I want you to be fully aware that we are having this discussion as equals. Understood? You can ask questions, raise concerns, anything you need.”

Though your heart hasn’t stopped racing, you feel yourself beginning to calm, relieved for a chance to properly prepare yourself and see what’s going to happen. “Yes, understood. Sir.”

Hoseok’s eyes fleck with mirth as he tilts his head. “First of all; are you allergic to soy or paraffin? I know we have the allergy sheets, but I’d feel safer double-checking.”

You frown, brows knitting in confusion. “Soy? Like soy sauce? And no, I’m not allergic to either of them.”

When Hoseok smiles to reveal his teeth, you catch a glimpse of his dom side, even as he maintains a friendly disposition. “Soy candles, princess.”

A flicker of alarm rushes through you, and you clasp your hands together, fiddling your digits to keep calm. “Is this like, pouring hot wax? I don’t know, Hoseok…”

“It wasn’t a hard limit you listed,” Hoseok reminds gently, “has that changed?”

You swallow. “I- no, it hasn’t but it’s still a soft limit, and I don’t know if-”

“That’s why I wanted to sit down and have a talk with you about it,” he explains without missing a beat, “and if, at the end, you want to keep it as a limit, we’ll do something else. I don’t mind forfeiting the challenge and taking a week in the bunks; they’re perfectly comfortable.” You still don’t answer, feeling scarily vulnerable in a bra and lace panties, nothing but a loose satin robe over top to keep you a little warm and covered. Hoseok’s warm expression keeps you anchored. “Wax play isn’t explicitly pain play, it can be sensation play just like running an ice cube over your skin. And I’ve been doing it for years, princess, if you know what you’re doing, it’s perfectly safe. Do you want to hear me out? There are no obligations.”

You suck in a deep breath, taking a second to think. “I want to at least hear you first,” you decide, “but I really don’t know.”

“I understand entirely,” Hoseok says, and a strange change overtakes his face as he bends down to slip open the folds keeping the box closed. It’s a slight lifting of his brows, pursing of his lips while still being relaxed. The almost stern look of a teacher as he pulls out a weighty red candle, rolling it over in his palm. He glances back at you, presenting it. The two of you are seated close enough together that you only have to lean forward to take it from him.

He lets you look over it as he speaks, his voice soothing and practiced. “This is a pillar candle,” he explains, “see how it’s quite girthy? When you light a candle like that, the molten wax pools in the middle. So when you go to tip it, you can control how much wax you want to pour and when. Some people will have at least two candles burning so that they can alternate. These ones are soy, but I brought paraffin too in case you had an allergy.”

Out of curiosity, you dig your nail into the top, by the fresh wick, and watch thick red wax build up under the nail. “Doesn’t it burn you?” you question. “Like it got melted because of actual fire, surely it would burn.”

Hoseok shrugs. “Not with the right wax.” He takes it back from you, flipping it up to show off the base where a small white sticker displays some information about the candle in tiny print. “Soy and paraffin both tend to melt at roughly the same temperature, and it’s low enough that it won’t burn you. The further away you drop it from affects the temperature when it gets to your skin, too. But candles like beeswax melt at a very high temperature. Those can be dangerous, and you’d never catch me or anyone at Red using them. Now-!” Slipping the short, fat candle back into the box with a soft thud, he pulls out a second one. This one is black, and thin with a pointed end at the top. “This one is a taper candle. There’s no room for the wax to build up, so when you light it, it’ll drop the melted wax one drop at a time. The advantage is that it’s handy for constant use, and very easy to maneuver. One of my friends at Red actually uses it in suspension bondage. She’ll tie up her sub and slip a lit taper into the rope somewhere so that it drips on, say, the sub’s back or stomach. You can imagine if you where tied up and blindfolded, feeling a single drop of heat at a time would be a pretty intense experience.”

The dom breaks off with a laugh at the look on your face, and promptly slips it back in the box. “For our purposes, I’m going to use the pillar. It means that I can easily stop at any time and let the wax just sit in that little divot at the top without it getting everywhere. Still with me?”

You nod quickly, shifting on the chair. Perhaps it’s the hypnotic, soothing lilt of his voice as he walks you through it, or perhaps you’re just realising that it’s not as scary as it seems, but that soft limit is getting softer and softer. “You can go on,” you state in a small voice.

Hoseok’s beam is addicting, brightening the room as he lets out a pleased hum and stands up. Instead of approaching you, however, he walks right past to the bench, fiddling with something in the sink there before he’s filling it up. “An important safety measure,” he explains, “is to have a water source nearby. In case it’s too hot, or the candle catches on anything. I’m doing it in here so that there’s not really anything flammable like carpet or curtains, but there’s no such thing as being too safe.”

You watch him shake the water off his hand with a fond smile. He returns to sit across from you, nudging the open box with his foot. “We have some other surprises in here, but nothing too wild apart from the flogger. How are you feeling about it?”

Your heart skips a beat when you recall it, the satisfying whip of air as he threw it over his shoulder earlier. “I’m nervous, but I really want to try it.”

“Excellent,” he says warmly. “And the wax? We can take it slow, try it out a bit and then I’ll check back in, yeah? Just because we’ll be in the scene doesn’t mean this communication is cut off.”

You suck in a slow breath, biting your lip. Hoseok gives you time to think, waiting patiently and without expectation, but you know that you want to at least try chasing that thrill deep inside you. “I wanna give it a go too.”

Hoseok’s look of pride makes your decision feel all the more right. “That’s my girl,” he chimes, “so brave for me.” Without further notice, his eyes darken, and his smile turns less sweet and more sly. “You know Master will make it good for you, right?”

You shiver beneath the thin layer of satin and lace. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he coos, “I want you to make a choice now, princess. I’ll let you choose what you wish to have first? Candles or the flogger?”

You feel slightly paralysed by the sudden decision making, brain already beginning to slow down. “Flogger please, sir.”

“So polite,” he praises, “alright, then. I want you to stand up and take that robe of yours off.”

You do so with a quickening pulse, but Hoseok doesn’t even spare a second glance at you, instead shifting the box over to the bench, pulling out… something that definitely isn’t the flogger.

Hoseok turns to you with a grin, dangling a chain on a single finger. At either end, leather cuffs twirl and bump each other, familiar to ones you’d used on the show before. Unlike the other pair, which were pretty simple and basic, this pair look beautiful enough to be a regular fashion accessory. The leather is thick but not stiff, and they’re done up with silver buckles, adjustable for size. What really catches your attention, however, is the gorgeous red trim of the softest velvet, a deep colour that makes it look unbelievably expensive. As he approaches, you notice that the insides of the cuffs are embossed with the symbol you recognised from the box. Two Rs facing away from each other, with delicately curled strokes.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Hoseok asks rhetorically. “They’re from the dungeon, if you hadn’t already guessed. Show me your wrists.” You rush to obey, sighing when you feel cool velvet encase around your left wrist, Hoseok deftly fastening the cuff as he continues to talk. “We have a colour code for everyone that comes in our doors. All spectators wear a simple black wristband. If you’re there to play, doms get armbands and subs get cuffs. Green means free use, anyone inside those walls wearing a cuff or a armband can play with you-” he doesn’t miss the way you shudder at the concept of being totally at the mercy of a roomful of strangers, arms pulling closer to your sides defensively, “-blue means looking. You’re open to negotiation, but there needs to be a kink negotiation and mutual agreement before you begin to play.” Hoseok moves to your other wrist, making sure the cuff is snug, but not cutting off circulation. “Can you guess what red means, princess?”

You can’t bear to look away from the gorgeous cuffs that adorn your wrists. You can feel the weight of the chain that connects them as it swings below. “Taken,” you offer in an uncertain voice.

“That’s right.” Even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can sense Hoseok’s grin. He gracefully hooks the chain on his finger, lifting it up and tugging it to watch your wrists jerk towards him. “And can you guess why I picked red for you?”

You think you know the answer. But you become overcome with the desire to hear him say it. You lift your gaze to his, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t know.”

Hoseok sees right through you, tilting his head. “I think you do,” he counters, “but I’ll happily tell you.” He yanks again, making you stumble forward into his chest. With an arm bracing you against him, Hoseok bends down to murmur in your ear. “Because you’re mine.” With the teasing slowness of a cat playing with its food, he brushes your hair back, fingertips light against the bare skin of your neck and shoulders. “Do you want to know something funny? The entire time you’ve been in there, you haven’t thought to look up.”

It happens quickly. Just as you lift your chin to seek out what he’s referring to, you feel a pull on your wrists. Hoseok’s grip on you loosens but the tug on your wrists continues until they’re stretching right up above you. The moment you set your eyes on the hook dangling from the ceiling - what looks like thick, industrial grade steel - you see the chain loop onto it and suddenly you can’t drop your arms anymore.

You tug them, a natural instinct to escape the hold, and the unforgiving way your body is stretched out makes your chest pound a little with alarm,heels only just resting on the floor. Hoseok’s hands are on you, palms hot as they smooth up and down your sides and back, soothing you. Your racing pulse starts to slow, even as your arms tremble.

“That’s better,” he remarks, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Would you believe that hook was there when we came?”

Your lips twitch. “Honestly? No, sir.”

He flicks you a wink, patting your ass fondly. “You would be surprised. Used to be a fixture for a chandelier. Who the fuck needs a chandelier in a bathroom?” You suppress a laugh, knowing that your nervous giggles will get the best of you if you give them a chance, but Hoseok sees that he’s managed to calm you down quite a bit, and slips back into the velvety depths of his dominant persona once again. His hand hasn’t moved from your ass, and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose as his fingers slip beneath the lace, gripping the flesh there, unable to move away from it.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know,” he starts with a casual air, massaging your ass openly even as his eyes stay fixed on yours, monitoring your every expression, “been waiting to turn that pretty ass of yours red. Let’s take these pretty panties of yours off first.”

You relax your thighs to let the strip of fabric sneak past, and when he bares your bottom half, tucking the cream-coloured lace into his back pocket, you shiver for a different reason entirely. You feel the wetness between your thighs begin to run down now that it’s unhindered by your panties, and your nipples are stiff, begging to be touched.

Hoseok isn’t so merciful, however, and when he glances down and sees them, he flicks lightly at one with an amused chuckle. “Desperate little one, aren’t you? Now, princess, I’m going to go over to the bench and get my flogger. Are you okay here alone? I’m not leaving you; I’ll only be out of your sight for a moment.”

The tile feels so cold and unforgiving under your toes as you shift, the chain preventing you from going far. “Yes, sir,” you say, but Hoseok clearly senses your hesitance.

Eyes imploring, warm yet serious, he tips up your chin with his knuckles gently. “Do you trust me? I’ll be no more than ten seconds. How about this? In your head, chant ‘Master is a good kisser’ three times, and I’ll be back.”

Your eyes round, wetting your lips. “How would I kn-umph!” Your question is cut off prematurely as Hoseok ducks down and demonstrates; a firm, bruising kiss that’s only heightened by the bondage restricting your movements. You can’t touch him, or move closer. You just have to sit and take it, and your mind feels heady as his lips press roughly against yours, teeth tugging on your lower lip enough to sting. By the time he pulls away, you feel breathless, the tension of the cuffs the only thing keeping you on your feet.

Hoseok gently buffs you on the cheek with another wink. “Don’t forget the magic words, princess,” he chimes, “I’ll be right back.”

And, though only two weeks ago the feeling of having him out of sight and out of reach had freaked you out to the point of safewording, the tingle in your lips and that admittedly accurate mantra - Master is a good kisser - keep your mind occupied enough that before you reach the end of the third recitation, Hoseok has stepped back into your line of vision, giving you an expectant look. “Still with me?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod with it, though you can’t bring yourself to look at him, so captivated by the flogger in his hand. He holds it like a seasoned expert, which you don’t doubt he is. The handle is black braided leather, with two thicker balls on either end like a dumbbell, no doubt for ease of grip. His hand wraps around the narrower middle section, but loose enough that his fingers look relaxed around it. Though he holds the handle upright slightly, the strips of leather fall straight down in a single cascade, neatly kept together.

Observing your trained eye, Hoseok laughs and steps closer, sliding the leather over his palm to display it for you. “Shall we have a quick lesson? This here is a perfect beginner’s flogger. Perfectly balanced with a weighted handle and clean-cut leather. These strips here, they’re called falls. The less you have or the thinner they are, the more it stings like a whip would. This one has probably around 30, 35 falls. Proper garment leather. Expensive, but well-crafted.” His hand shifts, clasping around the ends, which he spreads apart with a thumb. “You see how the ends are rounded? Some falls have forked tips, pointed tips, or straight-cut ones. The pointier it is, the sharper the sensation. Rounded tips are best for a newbie like you.”

Suddenly, he drops the ends, letting them revert back to their single stream of leather spouting from the handle. The quick movement makes your eyes automatically jump up to his face, and you suck in a breath at how intense his gaze is on you. “You need to be very clear where your limits are, princess. Tell me if I’m going too hard. This is painplay, but it should still be pleasurable. Understood?”

You swallow. Now, with your body almost entirely naked, your body restrained and a very practiced dom standing in front of you with a flogger, the concept of pain is a little more concrete. But still, you trust him, and his ability to make it feel good for you. “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” Hoseok steps back, giving himself some distance as he eyes you up. With a smooth motion, his wrist begins to flick, and you instinctually recoil when the falls of the flogger start flying through the air in a graceful arc. They’re uniform in both width and length, probably just about as long as Hoseok’s arm, which stays perfectly still as he isolates the movement in his joint. Even if you weren’t in the metaphorical hot seat, this show of excellence and practiced skill would nevertheless add to the coil of arousal between your legs. He looks good like this, fully in his element. “Now,” he states, smirking at your telling reaction, “normally the best spots are the back of the shoulders, and the ass. But something tells me you’d rather see what I’m doing before letting me loose behind you. Would I be right in thinking that?”

You picture him going behind you and beginning to whip you with no context or warning. You nod your head quickly. “Yes please, sir.”

Hoseok smiles, slowing his wrist, before he begins flicking it the opposite way, the ends of the flogger curving downwards towards you instead of upwards. “Now, this flogger is a little thuddier than what I’d usually use on breasts, but since I’m only going to be very light, it’ll be just fine.”

You try to inch backwards, but the chain rattles and gives you away. “My breasts?”

Hoseok’s hand stills, his head cocking to one side as his brows come together. “Is there a problem, princess?”

His disapproval is clear, and you get the feeling that you’re treading on thin ice. But he said that communication wouldn’t stop here, so you forge ahead. “I’m not protesting, I’m just curious, sir. Why not somewhere easier like the stomach?”

Distaste wracks his features. “This isn’t going anywhere near your stomach,” he says firmly, “the organs there are unprotected. Anything vulnerable - joints, spine, the stomach and lower back, of course the head - they’re all off-limits. Do you understand that?” When he receives a nod, the line of tension in Hoseok’s shoulders relaxes. “Now, I need you to move your head back so that it’s between or behind your arms. Can you do that for me?”

Pushing your head through the gap in your upper arms, you shift until your whole face is between them, chin tilted slightly up. “May I ask why, sir?” you request in a small voice. Why did this whole thing feel so technical? And why were you still so wet from it?

“You may,” Hoseok replies bemusedly, “it just distances your face from the swings. Don’t worry-” he interjects quickly when your eyes widen in alarm, “the falls will be nowhere near your face. It’s just for our peace of mind. Do you still trust me?”

You manage to nod with your face bracketed by your arms, and with a rush of anticipation, watch Hoseok start up those quick circles, the leather whipping through the air in one bunch. Instead of stretching his arm forward, he steps in slowly, moving the falls getting closer and closer until the smooth stroke of impact flicks across your right breast.

You gasp, out of shock more than anything, but those strokes deliver a regular pattern, and it’s already lacing across your skin again, and again, an odd feeling that certainly isn’t unpleasant. There’s a distinct feeling of impact, without any real weight behind it, and the slightest hint of a sting that just serves to gradually warm the skin. Your chest is heaving, but Hoseok lands each blow with perfect accuracy, even stepping side-on between arcs and switching breasts.

The constant snap of contact helps you get used to it and calm down, and you can’t deny that it feels kind of...nice? There’s something satisfying and freeing about feeling those split second granules of pain and tolerating them, overcoming them. It doesn’t take long before you unconsciously arch your spine, seeking out something more than just light swats from the very tips of the falls.

Hoseok notices the moment you move and, frustratingly, he stops with a chuckle. “Did that turn you on, princess? Do you want more?”

You whine, tipping your head back further so he disappears out of your sight. Against the skin of your inner arms, your cheeks are raging hot. “Yes,” you admit in a defeated voice when he refuses to move on.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir?” you quip with a hopeful tone.

“Nice try,” Hoseok replies flatly, “I want you to say it, princess. Yes, what?”

You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. There’s only silence. The heat has already left your breasts, and they feel strange without that lick of leather on them. “I want more, please, sir.”

“Good girl,” Hoseok coos, and in reward you feel the now-welcome flick of the falls on your breasts. This time, however, he stands directly across from you and twists his wrist over, casting figure eights, alternating left and right. You tremble at the feeling, squirming under it. Though it’s still light, every strike feels even more intense on your nipples, shooting sensation right between your legs.

“Sir,” you gasp out, “I w-want some more, sir.”

Hoseok answers without faltering, and his voice easily carries over the sound of the flogger. “Oh, do you? I can’t go any harder on these pretty little tits of yours, princess.” He pulls away, ceasing the motion. “If you want to continue, I’m going to have to go behind you. Are you okay with that?”

You push your reddened chest forward to no avail. “Fuck! Hoseok, yes, I’m okay with it,” you whine, unable to resolve any of the need in your core, needing more. Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval, and you curse internally at the slip. “Sir! Sorry, I’m okay with it, sir.”

“You better not forget your manners,” Hoseok warns, taking one step at a time, boots thudding on the tile as he circles you. “I’m flogging you for pleasure, because I like to treat and train you, but if you do that again, I can easily turn this into a punishment.”

The thought makes you moan, and your wrist jerks as you fruitlessly try to cover your mouth. Actually relieved he’s behind you for once, you let your head duck forward, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckles. “It seems like you’re more of a painslut than you realise, princess,” he teases, and you’re given no warning before you feel a strike against your ass, making you jump with a yelp. Though it’s the same light figure eights as just before, these ones whip up from the bottom, so that every hit lands on the meat of your ass, avoiding your lower back. If the ones before were easy, these feel like child’s play. Whether you’ve gotten more used to the sensation, or the skin on your ass just isn’t as sensitive, you find yourself immediately wanting more, trying to lean back into it.

The dom isn’t pleased. “Did I say you could move?”

You don’t answer, hands reaching up to grip the chains that bind them as you bite down harshly on your tongue. “I can take more, sir,” you begin, but Hoseok cuts you off with a gruff noise of disapproval.

“Did I say you could move?” he repeats sharply.

You whine low in your throat. “No, sir,” you admit, “but I can-” You yelp and flinch when a single swat hits below the swell of your ass, across your thighs. It feels different there, stingier and less hazily pleasant. “I’m sorry-”

“That’s right, I didn’t,” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind you, cold and unforgiving. “In fact, I hung you up here to keep you still for me, so that I could play with you as I wished. If you insist on defying that, I’ll quite happily fetch a spreader bar so that you can’t move an inch.”

You furrow your brows, hating the feeling of making him mad. Hating even more that the sharpness in his tone and the filthy word he says just make you even needier, tightening your thighs together. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll behave,” you mumble shamefully.

You jump slightly when you feel something on your ass again, but it’s just his hand, cupping the flesh. “I’m doing this to warm you up. For your own safety. I’ve been doing this for years, princess, don’t forget that Master knows best.”

“Master knows best,” you repeat mindlessly, feeling yourself begin to slip. It’s a comforting thought just as much as it is an arousing one; Master knows what he’s doing, and all you need to do is take it.

“Exactly.” Hoseok sounds pleased, and just as your heart lifts in relief, the hits resume.

Eyes slipping closed, you let yourself tune everything else out. When you focus, when you really actively feel it, you can recognise every shift in his posture, or change in angle by how it feels on your skin. The strips of leather lash up, gradually causing the skin to heat up as the thuddy feeling stays longer and longer after each strike.

Before he ups the intensity, he simply speeds up his strokes, and you let out a pleased whine as the constant ebb and flow of pleasure-softened pain lull you deeper. The more you take, the less it hurts at all, even as the skin on your ass feels like it’s radiating heat.

The warmth floods to the rest of your body until even your toes aren’t cold against the tile. You feel like you could stand here forever, strung up and lost in the sensations he’s giving you. In fact, those dull edges of pain are so soothing that it feels almost therapeutic, worries and aches melting away, irrelevant in this space.

Hoseok finally deems your skin is sufficiently warmed up, and you whimper when the hits shift. Instead of friendly, playful flicks of leather, every strike echoes in the room, the thud of impact delivering a bolder note of pain.

Not that it’s bad, though. On the contrary, if the earlier flogging was lulling you into a sleepy bliss, these ones wake you up like a burst of energy with every swing. Without even realising, a dopey grin stretches your cheeks, and you find yourself no longer trying to muffle the pleased sighs that stutter out with every flick of Hoseok’s wrist.

“Fuck, look at you,” the dom croons, “a painslut indeed. You’re dripping onto the tiles, naughty girl.”

You moan openly, knuckles aching with how tightly you’re gripping the chains that hook your cuffs to the steel loop above. Your pussy aches with the need to be touched, but to do that Hoseok would have to stop whipping you, and your mind hisses at the thought. All you want is more, you can take more, you want to show him, to show yourself you can take more. Every burst of pain on your flesh is another victory, and it feels euphoric.

You stay in this headspace for a while as Hoseok maintains the same, regular hits. Eventually, the scream for more overwhelms you, and you seek out something more intense the quickest way you know how - disobedience. “Hoseokie,” you whine, “hit me harder.”

You could sob when his hand freezes, the next strike coming down without any bite, just a loose draping of the leather falls. As they linger on the skin, you realise just how sensitive and raw it’s gotten, feeling every edge of leather in sharper clarity. Hoseok holds it there for a moment, then drops, the silence in the room palpable. “Are you giving me orders? And without the proper title, no less.”

Pain bursts across your skin like a line of fire, the sharpest and strongest hit yet. Like the one across your thighs, this comes at an angle instead of the upstrokes of his circles or figure eights. You can imagine him holding it back, and whipping it down with a single, swift flick. The residue heat on your ass just makes you want another.

Instead of another hit, however, you cry out when you feel nails digging into the flesh, not scraping, just groping the globes of your ass in each hand. You can even feel the stiff leather of the handle pressing into your flesh on one side, and you whine at the sensation.

“I know what you want, princess,” Hoseok growls, his voice startlingly close as his breath wafts hot on the back of your neck. “And if painplay was the purpose of the scene, perhaps I’d whip you until you cried like you deserve.”

You sob. “Master, please-”

“It’s too late for that,” he cuts off sharply. “The time for begging is over. You’ve disappointed me. I was going to lift up your legs and fuck you right here, but you’ve showed me that you don’t deserve that yet.”

Unprecedented, your eyes brim with tears. Hoseok slips back into your line of sight, face stern as he tucks the handle of the flogger in his belt at the back, and reaches up to unhook you. Your legs are weak, but he carries your weight with ease, letting the chain dangle around the back of his neck as he walks you over to the bench.

Instead of propping you up on it, or sitting you on a chair, he helps you lie down on the cool tile, an immediate balm for the deep-set heat radiating from your ass. Even as his face is stiff with disapproval, he handles you so gently, ensuring you don’t knock your head on the way down.

“Just stay here a moment,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your eyes, “calm down a little bit. I have some candles to light.”

You feel strangely floaty, your emotions all over the place, but Master had asked you to calm down, so you try your best to settle them. It’s not a bad sensation once you relax a bit. Need burns fiercely between your thighs, but the last thing you want to do is upset him by breaking the rules, so you simply let your eyes slip closed and your thighs clench together. You’ll wait until Hoseok comes back to you, and then you’ll make things right by being extra good. The thought of pleasing him makes you smile, and when Hoseok’s voice wraps around you, checking that you’re still with him, it’s only too easy to chirp a contented, “yes, sir.”

When he returns, he’s slipping one hand under your head and the other behind your back, lifting you ever-so-slowly so that your head doesn’t spin. Once you’re up, you lean forward and cling to him, wanting nothing more than to be close. Hoseok lazily cards his fingers through your hair. “You’ve misbehaved,” he states slowly, “you haven’t earned an orgasm, princess, but I’m soft on you. I’ll give you the chance to win one, how about that?”

You blink dazedly, feeling clarity begin to seep back in. “Win?”

Pulling back, Hoseok smirks down at you. “We’re going to play a little game, you and I. Come; I want you on your hands and knees.”

Hoseok guides you over, though you’ve mostly gotten your strength back. On the floor, near the box, are two lit pillar candles. The flames dance cheerily, leaving behind wells of molten wax. One is the red candle you’d inspected earlier, and the other is a pure white, the wax melting clear. You prop yourself up on your hands and knees beside it, but the dom quickly corrects you, leading you to instead assume the position over the box, which almost reaches your stomach.

Upon receiving your questioning look, Hoseok rubs one hand over your reddened ass cheeks, soothing the flesh. “I don’t want you losing your balance and creating a large angle,” he explains shortly, “the wax could drip forward into your hair or, worse, drip back where I’m sure you don’t want it.”

You shudder at the thought, your pulse steadily quickening as the reality of what he’s about to do sets in. This feels even more unfamiliar and alien than the flogging did at the beginning, but you feel safe beneath his touch.

Hoseok gets on his knees behind you, and you could cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle clink, and then a zip lower. It takes no time at all for you to feel the blunt head of Hoseok’s cock pressing against your entrance until it begins to sink in.

You moan, arching your back enough that you fee the texture of cardboard on your stomach. After only receiving external stimulation - pain, nonetheless - until now, suddenly being speared on his tongue has you speechless, tongue heavy in your mouth and drool pooling in your cheeks.

“Feel good, princess?” Hoseok questions, giving your raw ass a playful swat when you cry out the affirmative. “I bet it does.” But when he bottoms out, leaving you deliciously full, he remains perfectly still. “Sadly, that’s all you’ll get for now. Do you want to hear the rules of the game?”

You sob lowly in your throat, elbows almost buckling as your walls clench around the unmoving intrusion. “Please, sir.”

“I’m going to write a word on you, princess. A special word. But it just so happens that I don’t have a pen on me, so I’ll use this wax instead.” The glimpses of red and white blink out of your peripheral as Hoseok drags them closer to himself. “You can guess each letter, and if you manage to get the word right once I’m finished, then I’ll let you cum. Does that sound fair?” Your reply is garbled, incoherent, but Hoseok doesn’t seem bothered. “Then let’s begin. Pay close attention, now.”

Your body naturally tenses up, eyes squeezed shut as you wait for a burst of pain, of searing heat. When something touches your skin, you automatically cry out, but quickly realise that it doesn’t hurt at all, instead, it’s like viscous warm water that slowly stiffens on your skin as it cools. The tightness in your chest loosens.

“That was a test patch, princess,” Hoseok says in a calm voice, devoid from his usual dom smugness. “Too hot? Not hot enough?”

You swallow. “It wasn’t hot,” you admit, “it’s not bad.”

“Understood,” he confirms, squeezing your hip in reassurance as you clench again around him, but the safety monitor Hoseok quickly takes a backseat to the Master persona. “First letter, princess. I’ll only do each one once.”

This time, when lines of warmth bloom on your back, concentrated in the top corner by your shoulder blade, you focus your mind on picturing the shapes they create. Something straight, then a small loop. The wax isn’t painful; on the contrary, it doesn’t feel hot when it first makes contact. As it sits, the skin heats up, but before it gets too warm, the wax has already cooled to mostly solid. Your fears melt away fully, and you tune back into the game. “D?” you guess.

“Close,” he allows.

You rack your mind. “P?”

You moan when Hoseok’s cock suddenly moves inside you, pulling out slowly and giving you a single, snapped thrust. “Correct,” he confirms, “next letter.”

This one feels similar, starting with the same straight line, slightly to the right of where the first patch fell. A straight line, something wobbly again with a line to end it. Your breath catches. “R? Is the word ‘princess?’”

“Guessing so soon,” Hoseok chimes, humour lacing his voice, “but wrong on both counts. It’s a vowel.”

You go down the list, comparing them against the already-fading memory of thick warmth on your skin. “E- no, A?”

“A is correct. This one’s easy.” After fucking into you once another time, he does a single stroke that you easily identify as an I, and then you hear the thud as he puts down one candle and picks up the other. “Let’s see how you look in red, princess. Next letter.”

It gets harder and harder to correctly name the letters as you go on. With every right answer, you’re rewarded with a second of pleasure before it ceases, and that paired with the arousing feeling of warm wax drizzling over your skin just has you feeling hazy. It takes you whole minutes to guess N, but lucky it’s followed by simple strokes of S, L, and U.

By the time he’s switched wax a couple times and is readying you for the last letter, you already know the word. But Hoseok drops the wax from a little lower every time, and you relish the heat more and more with each letter, and you’ll take whatever else you can get.

At this point, the only space left on you is low on your back, just in from your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, already knowing that he’s going to paint two strokes: one horizontal and one vertical. So instead, you allow yourself to just feel it for what it is.

He tips the pillar candle - red or white, you’ve long since lost track - and you moan openly as you feel fluidity, then heat, which crests and settles into a seal of solid wax. Hoseok wastes no time before completing the letter, one longer line going down in a thick trail that threatens to drip down your side.

“‘s T,” you slur out before he can even ask, tightening your walls around him as he snaps his hips a single time so that you can feel every inch of him. Even the sound of the one movement is obscene; you’re so wet that it runs down your thighs and soaks his cock, but Hoseok’s not complaining.

Instead, you whine as you feel his nails on your shoulder, dislodging the fully hardened wax from the beginning. It’s a strange sensation, there’s a minute suction to breaking that seal, but it lifts off so smoothly when he’s careful like that. “And can you tell me the word, princess? I picked it out just for you.”

Sighing out, you nod shakily. “Painslut,” you gasp.

“That’s right,” Hoseok replies warmly, even as his nails curl and drag down rough enough to crumble the wax in his path, leaving stinging lines over your skin. “You’re my little painslut, aren’t you? Say it, and I’ll give you your reward.”

“I’m your little painslut,” you moan out, back arching under the relentless way he dislodges slivers of dried wax, exposing the sensitive skin beneath.

Without further preface, Hoseok bends over to quickly blow out the two candles, shift them further away, and then straightens up to grip your hips with hands slightly slippery from the soy.

When he begins fucking into you properly, with the full force of his powerful hips, you’re pushed forward onto the cardboard box, a cry punched from your throat. He doesn’t wait this time, just as steady and unforgiving as the circles his flogger made earlier.

You feel the weight of his balls slapping against you, his hip bones pressing into your sensitive ass, and his nails dig in sharply to give you that delicious pain that had become just as potent as pleasure. You feel him inside you, too; mercilessly parting your walls and stretching you around him until it feels like you can’t breathe.

Your mouth spills a constant stream of garbled moans and pleas, doing your best to fuck yourself back on him to feel him deeper. “Fuck, Master, I’m so close,” you manage to make out, “can I cum, sir?”

Hoseok growls deep in his throat, and you squeal helplessly as his pace picks up until you can’t even stop yourself from drooling onto the tile, jerked about within his grip. “Cum for me, princess,” he commands, “cum on my cock now.”

In your body’s final effort to please your Master, your orgasm follows only a few thrusts later, and you go limp and shivery against the support of the cardboard box, clinging to it as Hoseok chases his own high.

Having cum from g-spot stimulation alone, the orgasm seems to reach as deep as your bones, and you ride the wave longer. By the time you’re finally beginning to come down, pleasure slowly turning to oversensitivity, Hoseok’s thrusts are stuttering, and he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grunting as a different kind of heat spurts over your back.

You’re panting, hugging the box you’re curled over as you feel Hoseok’s cum run down the divot of your spine, slowly cooling. You can still feel the dry flakes of wax that cling to you, and even as Hoseok gently helps you off the solid tile floor, you see shavings and slivers of red and white falling to the ground.

Hoseok’s dropped the Master persona entirely by now, and you hum happily as he checks you over, fingertips running across the skin of your back and ass. “No pain still persisting?”

“Well, my ass still kinda stings,” you admit, “but nothing seriously painful, no.”

He furrows his brows in concern as he straightens up in front of you. “And the wax was okay?”

You smile shyly and a little dopily, still coasting on the endorphins the pain and temperature play had released. “I’m probably going to go to Sejin and get him to change it to a definite interest, actually. It was great, Hoseok. You were great. Thank you.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm as he fondly buffs you on the underside of your chin. “Well; I say we have a nice shower and clean you up, and then we can go into the kitchen for some ice cream. Get your sugar levels back up, how about that?”

You could laugh, but you feel too blissed out to even exert that much energy. “I’m not sure there’s any ice cream left, actually.”

FAN FAVOURITE

Please vote for your favourite member in the house according to Week Three only. Vote here. You need to sign in to prevent spamming, but I delete the survey after the 48 hours is up. All I take note of is the pie chart at the end. I’m very excited to see what the results will be !

And so we meet our fourth guest... Confused? Check bonus content four, five and six for the other three teasers ;)

#cypherwritersnet #bts smut #jin smut #hoseok smut #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ot7 x reader #ot7 smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut

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