#while their abilities get canceled by everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bamgyuuuri · 6 days ago

Text

⤷ this side of paradise ┈ cbg.

sypnosis. choi beomgyu had every quality you hated—loud, obnoxious, and endlessly infuriating. this school trip was supposed to be your chance to escape him, but your hopes were crushed when you found out you’d be sharing a room. however, the more you spent time with him alone, the more you began to see a side of him you never expected—one that made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

pairings and tags. classmate!choi beomgyu x reader (f/m) . enemies to lovers . slowburn . so much tension !!! teasing . mutual pining . fluff . forced proximity . fleeting glances . grumpy x sunshine if you squint . angry confession . incredibly cliche at times hehe

word count. 10.6k

short note … i rly liked how this one turned out too ngl,, an immediate favorite as well !!!! especially since personality wise, i relate to beomgyu a lot ^_^ ik it’s pretty lengthy but i hope u guys like it nonetheless !! do tell me ur thoughts <33

if there was one person in the entire school who could single-handedly ruin your day without even trying, it was choi beomgyu.

he wasn’t just a thorn in your side; he was the entire rose bush, complete with sharp thorns, swarming bugs, and pollen that made you sneeze. beomgyu was the human equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, an untimely alarm clock, or a fly buzzing around your head when you were trying to focus.

he had this uncanny ability to be everywhere all at once, like a human embodiment of murphy’s law. quietly reading in the library? he’d show up out of nowhere, leaning over your shoulder and reading the words out loud in a ridiculous voice, making sure to butcher every single one.

if you were trying to focus in class, he’d find some way to get your attention, tapping your shoulder incessantly, passing you notes with doodles of your face and exaggerated scowls, or “accidentally” kicking your chair leg just hard enough to jolt you.

and if you dared to ignore him? he’d double down, whispering your name repeatedly until you snapped and glared at him, only for him to flash that infuriating grin.

it wasn’t just his actions, either. it was his entire existence. the way his laughter was always a decibel too loud, drawing attention wherever he went. the way he seemed to have an endless supply of energy, bouncing between conversations and cracking jokes that were somehow always at your expense.

“say, do you ever smile? or is the grumpy face just part of your brand now?” he’d say with mock concern, tilting his head like some concerned friend while you resisted the urge to smack that smug expression off his face.

yet, somehow, for reasons you hated yourself for, he was annoyingly attractive. it wasn’t fair. how could someone so insufferable look like he’d just walked out of a magazine?

his hair always had that perfect, slightly tousled look, as if he’d spent hours on it when you knew he probably just rolled out of bed. his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that promised trouble, and his stupid, lopsided grin had a way of making your stomach flutter despite your better judgment.

but none of that mattered, because his personality was insufferable enough to cancel out any appeal he might have had. and oh, how you despised him for it. you despised the way he always seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, how he lived to tease you, and how he always left you simmering in frustration while he walked away, laughing like it was all just a game to him.

choi beomgyu was, without question, the absolute worst person you’d ever met, and you were determined to keep as much distance between you and him as possible during this school trip.

you walked into the room with a spring in your step, already fantasizing about two days of peaceful solitude. no obnoxious laughter, no teasing remarks, no beomgyu. for once, the universe had done something right.

that peace, however, lasted all of three seconds. your smile vanished the instant you spotted him. beomgyu. in your room. unpacking his duffle bag like he belonged there.

you froze in the doorway, disbelief hitting you like a slap to the face. this had to be a mistake, right?

“what the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at his hunched form.

beomgyu didn’t even look up. “unpacking,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“no, no, no.” you stepped into the room, pointing an accusing finger at him. “you’re in the wrong room. there’s no way we’re roommates. you must’ve walked into the wrong room. you’re stupid like that, after all.”

he turned his head to give you an amused look. “nice try, but i’m not wrong this time.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “prove it.”

with a sigh, beomgyu fished his keys out of his pocket, holding it up as if it were the holy grail. “room 313. same as the one on your key, right?”

your stomach dropped, and you reluctantly pulled your own keycard out to confirm. room 313. damn it. “this has to be some sick joke,” you muttered under your breath.

beomgyu smirked, leaning casually against the bedframe. “aw, don’t look so heartbroken. i’m flattered you care so much about where i sleep.”

you groaned, throwing your bag onto the bed with more force than necessary. “why you, of all people? this trip was supposed to be my escape, and now i’m stuck with you.”

“relax,” he drawled, stretching his arms behind his head. “i’m not that bad. i’ll even let you take the bed closer to the window. generous, right?”

you glared at him, too annoyed to appreciate the so-called ‘gesture.’ “oh, how kind of you, your highness. truly, i’m honored,” you retorted, voice laced with sarcasm.

beomgyu laughed, the sound grating on your already-frayed nerves. “you’re awfully cute when you’re sarcastic.”

“don’t call me cute,” you snapped, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“okay, grumpy,” he shot back with a wink.

you clenched your fists at the nickname, one he liked to use on you, muttering (loudly) as you stomped over to your bed. “this is my nightmare. why couldn’t i have been paired with literally anyone else? even that kid who collects bugs would’ve been better than this.”

but to your surprise, there was no snarky retort. no obnoxious laugh or teasing remark. not even a single snarky retort, or any witty one-liner.

beomgyu had simply gone … quiet.

you frowned, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. he was sitting on his bed, unpacking his things methodically, almost… calmly.

it was suspicious. he was suspicious.

for a moment, you were tempted to ask if something was wrong, but no, this was beomgyu—he was probably just lulling you into a false sense of security so he could spring some ridiculous prank later.

deciding not to risk it, you kept your mouth shut and started unpacking your own things. still, the silence between you two felt unnatural. it hung heavy in the room, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself sneaking another glance at him.

he looked… normal. no devilish smirk, no gleam of mischief in his eyes. just beomgyu, quietly organizing his stuff like any other person.

weird. really weird. and unsettlingly… not unpleasant.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as soon as the class regrouped in the common area later that day, you were reminded of exactly why choi beomgyu was public enemy number one in your book.

“i told you, taehyun, there’s no way you can out-eat me,” beomgyu crowed, arms flailing animatedly as he reenacted some ridiculous lunchtime escapade. his voice carried above the chatter of your classmates, loud enough that everyone turned their heads to either laugh along or roll their eyes.

you snickered under your breath, shaking your head. of course, the subdued version of beomgyu you’d seen in the room was just a temporary glitch in the system. he was back in full force now, throwing exaggerated gestures and laughing so hard he almost toppled over.

“i knew it,” you muttered to yourself, crossing your arms. “as if he’d ever stay quiet for long.”

“knew what?” one of your friends asked, nudging you.

“oh, nothing,” you replied, still eyeing beomgyu’s theatrics. “just that a tiger can’t change its stripes.”

but any smug satisfaction you felt was short-lived.

“you’ll be paired with the person whose name is written on the card you pull,” the teacher explained, holding out a basket of folded slips.

as luck would have it (or misfortune, rather), the name on your card was the one person you’d been hoping to avoid.

“choi beomgyu,” you read aloud, your voice flat with resignation.

“ah, lucky you!” beomgyu grinned, leaning toward you with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “guess you got the best partner, huh?”

“more like the worst,” you muttered, earning a mock gasp of offense from him.

to make matters worst, the two of you were sent off into a different section of the campground, far enough away that the sounds of your classmates faded into the background. it was a simple task—gather specific items from the forest for a scavenger hunt.

at first, you braced yourself for the usual barrage of beomgyu’s teasing remarks and incessant chatter, but as you walked along the winding trail, something strange happened.

he was quiet.

too quiet.

you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. his head was down, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as he kicked at the dirt path absentmindedly. the beomgyu who had been commanding the group’s attention just minutes ago now looked… thoughtful.

“what, did you finally run out of things to say?” you quipped, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

he glanced at you, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile. “nah, just… thinking.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you? thinking? must be serious.”

“ha-ha,” he deadpanned, but there was no bite to his tone. unusually so.

the silence that followed stretched on, long and unbroken, like a thread unraveling endlessly between the two of you. the gentle rustle of leaves underfoot filled the space where beomgyu’s usual chatter should’ve been. it was almost disorienting—this odd, fragile quiet.

you bent down to pick up a small, flat stone from the ground, turning it over in your hand. it was smooth and cool to the touch, one of the items on your scavenger list. “this should work,” you murmured, not expecting an answer.

“nice find,” came beomgyu’s voice, soft and low.

your head snapped up, eyes narrowing at him in surprise. there was no sarcasm in his tone, no teasing glint in his eye. just a genuine acknowledgment, plain and unadorned. it threw you off more than you cared to admit.

“oh, uh… thanks,” you said, fumbling over the word like it was foreign.

he offered a small smile—an actual smile, not the cocky, lopsided grin he usually wore—and it made your chest tighten for reasons you didn’t want to dwell on.

as the two of you continued down the path, the quiet didn’t dissipate. instead, it grew heavier, more tangible, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it wasn’t tense, either. it was something else entirely, something softer and… stranger.

you found yourself stealing glances at him, unable to help it. there was something almost… calming about the way he moved. his usual energy—the constant bouncing steps, the exaggerated gestures—was gone. instead, his pace was measured, his gaze sweeping the forest floor with a calm focus. it was unsettling. but more so confusing.

you crouched down again, this time picking up a pine cone half-buried in the dirt. brushing it off, you tucked it into your bag before standing again.

“so,” you began, trying to sound casual, “are you… okay…? did you hit your head before we went out or something?”

beomgyu glanced at you, and for a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “i’m fine. why?”

you gestured vaguely toward him. “you’re… quiet. really quiet. it’s weird.”

he raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “weird, huh?”

“yeah,” you said, crossing your arms as you started walking again. “what, did someone finally tell you to shut up and you actually listened?”

he chuckled under his breath—quietly, not the loud, boisterous laugh you were used to. it was a softer sound, almost… warm.

and then he didn’t say anything else. he didn’t rise to your bait, didn’t fire back with one of his usual snarky comebacks. instead, he just kept walking, the faint smile lingering on his face as his eyes swept the path ahead.

the longer the silence stretched, the more it started to unnerve you. this… wasn’t the beomgyu you knew. the beomgyu you knew would’ve already made three jokes at your expense and found some way to drive you to the brink of exasperation. this version of him—quiet, calm, almost thoughtful—was an entirely different person.

and the strangest part? you didn’t hate it.

in fact, you found yourself relaxing in his presence, your usual wariness slipping away without you realizing it. without the relentless teasing and constant chatter, it was almost… peaceful.

but the question lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind. why was he like this now? where was the loud, insufferable boy who had been the center of attention just an hour ago in the canteen? why did he only act like this when it was just the two of you?

the thought made your stomach twist, and you found yourself glancing at him again, searching for some kind of answer in his expression. but beomgyu’s face was unreadable, his focus entirely on the trail ahead.

when you reached a small clearing, he paused, crouching down to inspect a patch of moss. “think this counts as ‘soft greenery’?” he asked, holding it up for you to see.

you blinked, startled by the sudden question. “uh… yeah, probably.”

“cool,” he said simply, tucking the moss into his bag.

and just like that, the silence resumed, wrapping around you both like a thick, heavy blanket. but this time, you couldn’t shake the strange, nagging warmth blooming in your chest.

it wasn’t fair. choi beomgyu wasn’t supposed to make you feel anything except irritation. and yet, here he was—quiet, calm, and somehow disarming you without even trying.

not too long after, you both finally found every item required on the list. with your bag heavier and your mind filled with unanswered questions, you followed beomgyu back toward the meeting point where the rest of the class had gathered. there was an odd weight to your steps, a strange feeling tugging at you—a weird, quiet disappointment that you couldn’t quite shake.

you glanced over at beomgyu as the two of you walked in silence. he carried his bag slung casually over one shoulder, his expression as neutral and calm as it had been the entire time.

when you reached the clearing where everyone was waiting, the energy of the group hit you like a wave; loud voices, laughter, and the chaos of friends recounting their scavenger adventures. you barely had time to process it all when the instructor called everyone’s attention to announce the winners.

and much to you and everyone else’s surprise, the instructor called you and beomgyu out.

your head whipped around to look at beomgyu in disbelief. he was already smirking, the corners of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly familiar way.

“well, look at that,” he said, his voice now laced with amusement. “teamwork makes the dream work, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heated under his gaze. “don’t get used to it. this was pure luck.”

he laughed—loud and full, the sound cutting through the noise around you. and just like that, the calm, subdued version of him from earlier was gone, replaced by the beomgyu you knew all too well.

you groaned, stepping away as his friends swarmed him with congratulations and playful jabs. as much as you wanted to revel in the small victory, the shift in his demeanor made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t fully understand.

you lingered at the edge of the group, watching as beomgyu fell seamlessly back into his usual role—loud, boisterous, and always at the center of attention. the difference was jarring, like a switch had flipped the moment he rejoined the crowd.

and it felt… weird.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how different he’d been when it was just the two of you. the calm, quiet side of him wasn’t something you’d ever seen before. it was like a secret he’d accidentally let you glimpse, only to tuck it away the moment you weren’t alone anymore.

why was he only ever like that around you? did he hate being around you so much that he didn’t even want to bother teasing you anymore? the thought made your stomach twist unpleasantly.

but then, why did that calm side of him… comfort you? why did it unnerve you in equal measure?

you didn’t get it. none of it made sense.

as the group began to disperse for the next activity, you felt someone nudge your shoulder. you turned to find one of your friends grinning at you.

“so, what’s the deal with you and beomgyu? you guys actually worked together without killing each other?”

“barely,” you said with a huff, trying to mask the strange cocktail of emotions swirling in your chest. “he was… different.”

your friend raised an eyebrow. “different how?”

“nevermind,” you mumbled, brushing past them as you tried to shake the thoughts from your head.

but even as you joined your friends, laughing and chatting as though nothing was wrong, your gaze drifted back to beomgyu.

he caught your eye from across the clearing and smirked, giving you a two-fingered salute.

and somehow, that simple gesture sent a pang of frustration—and something else entirely—through you.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

the day had been long and exhausting. after hours of team-building activities—most of which involved more yelling and chaos than actual teamwork—the announcement of some “healing time” around the campfire felt like a blessing.

everyone seemed to share the same sentiment, slumping into the circle of logs and folding chairs surrounding the crackling fire, their faces illuminated by its flickering glow.

the atmosphere was light and easy, the warm flames licking upward as students laughed, shared terrible ghost stories, and sang impromptu songs. the campfire’s golden light softened the world, turning the boisterous group into a cozy bubble of warmth and laughter.

you were starting to relax, when someone brought out a guitar, the sleek instrument glinting faintly in the firelight.

“anyone know how to play?” the instructor asked, looking around.

immediately, a group of boys started whispering and nudging one another, and before you could fully process it, one of beomgyu’s friends grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand into the air.

“beomgyu does!” the boy announced loudly, grinning like he’d just won a prize.

your head snapped to the side. beomgyu?

“what—hey, not funny, cut it out…” beomgyu groaned, tugging his hand back down and glaring at his friend.

the group erupted into laughter, some clapping and others urging him to go for it. you leaned forward slightly, intrigued despite yourself.

“come on, beomgyu,” the instructor then encouraged, smiling. “let’s hear it.”

beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, his expression torn between exasperation and embarrassment. “i’m not—ugh, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair before finally standing up.

he stepped forward and took the guitar, visibly gulping as he adjusted it in his lap. the firelight cast shadows over his face, but you didn’t miss the way he glanced in your direction. it was quick, fleeting, and yet… intentional. like he wanted to see your reaction.

your heart gave an odd jolt. why did it feel like his eyes lingered just a second too long?

the circle grew quiet as beomgyu plucked at the strings, testing them. his fingers were steady, but you noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he took a deep breath. then, without preamble, he began to play.

the soft, melodic chords of “i will give you everything” by lee janghee floated into the night air, delicate and deliberate. beomgyu’s fingers moved fluidly over the strings, coaxing out a gentle rhythm that seemed to wrap around the campfire like a warm embrace.

and then, he started singing.

it began softly, his voice slipping into the quiet like a gentle breeze, carrying with it something raw and achingly beautiful. it was the kind of voice that could hush a crowded room, that could demand attention without ever raising its volume.

it was soothing, unassuming at first, and then it began to grow—layered with warmth, depth, and an unexpected vulnerability that felt almost tangible.

you blinked, your focus narrowing until it was as if there was only him, sitting there with the guitar balanced in his hands, his head tilted just slightly as he poured his soul into the music.

it wasn’t perfect, not in the technical sense. there were moments when his voice wavered, when the raw emotion seemed to outpace his control. but that only made it more captivating. it was authentic, so deeply, disarmingly honest that it felt like a secret he was sharing with everyone in the circle.

you sat frozen, the familiar ache of something unnameable stirring in your chest. the obnoxious boy who teased you relentlessly, who lived to push your buttons, was nowhere to be found once again.

and as the song reached its chorus, he glances up, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes found yours.

everything stopped.

it was as if the world itself held its breath. the fire crackled in the background, but its warmth faded in comparison to the intensity of his gaze. his eyes were tender, impossibly so, brimming with an emotion you couldn’t place.

there was no smirk, no teasing glint, no trace of the boy who drove you insane. just beomgyu, stripped of his bravado, looking at you as though you were the only person in the universe who mattered in that moment.

your breath caught, the air thick and heavy in your lungs. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, drowning out everything else. his gaze was so soft, so achingly gentle, it made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

you tore your gaze away, your cheeks burning, your heart pounding as if you’d been caught doing something forbidden. but even as you looked elsewhere—anywhere but at him—his voice pulled you back.

it was soothing in a way that made you feel too much, its warmth and depth settling into the spaces you didn’t know were empty. you felt vulnerable, exposed, as though he’d reached inside and found the parts of you you didn’t let anyone see.

when the final note rang out, the world rushed back in with a wave of cheers and applause. the spell broke, and beomgyu ducked his head, laughing shyly as he handed the guitar back to its owner.

“happy now?” he muttered to his friends as he sat back down, though his usual cocky tone was uncharacteristically absent.

as the circle erupted into noise and chatter once more, you stole a glance at him. beomgyu was laughing now, nudging his friends as they teased him about his unexpected talent. he was back to being himself—the loud, insufferable menace you’d grown used to.

you went back into conversation like everyone else, but your head felt disconnected from your body, your mind still stuck on that one glance.

those… eyes.

why did it feel like he was singing to you?

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as everyone filtered back to their rooms, you felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension settle in your chest. the day had been exhausting, but not in the way you’d expected. it wasn’t the team-building activities or the endless socializing that left you drained—it was beomgyu.

the memories of him during the scavenger hunt, the haunting softness of his voice as he sang, and, most of all, that fleeting, heart-stopping moment when your eyes met across the campfire… they swirled in your mind like an endless storm.

you walked towards the door your room, your steps growing heavier with each one. and as if sensing your inner thoughts, your heart oddly skips a beat when you turned the corner and spotted beomgyu approaching from the other end of the hall.

sensing your presence, beomgyu’s gaze flicked up, meeting yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, caught in a strange limbo. the tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

you quickly averted your eyes, willing yourself to focus on something, anything else. fumbling with your keys, you muttered a curse under your breath as they slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor.

“great,” you mumbled, squatting down to pick them up.

but before you could, beomgyu was already there, his hand reaching for the keys. your fingers brushed briefly, and you pulled back as if burned, the unexpected warmth of his skin lingering on yours.

“here,” he said quietly, holding the keys out to you. his voice was soft, almost tentative, your heart now pounding against your chest as if it was threatening to fall out.

“oh… thanks,” you murmured, your voice embarrassingly small as you took the keys from him.

before you could unlock the door yourself, he surprises you again. “let me,” he says just as softly, gently opening the door with his own keys. he slid the key into the lock and opened the door with an ease that felt far too intimate for such a mundane act.

you stepped inside first at his silent gesture, your mind racing.

the room was dimly lit, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls. you moved to your side of the room without a word, setting your bag down and busily pretending to organize your things. the silence stretched between you, heavy and awkward, broken only by the sound of beomgyu setting his own things aside.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been, how soft his voice sounded, how his hand had felt against yours. you shook your head, trying to banish the thoughts, but they clung to you stubbornly.

finally, you decided to break the silence, if only to distract yourself. “you, uh… you sounded good earlier. during the song, i mean.”

the words came out more awkwardly than you intended, and you cringed inwardly. you couldn’t even dare to look at him.

beomgyu paused, the air between you tightening. “oh… thanks,” he said after a moment, his tone measured. “i didn’t think anyone would actually pay attention.”

you turned your head slightly, catching the faintest glimpse of him rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. he looked… shy.

you tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. “are you kidding? why not? you’re… good. amazing, even.”

his lips quirked into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “maybe. but it’s not really my thing to show off like that.”

you raised an eyebrow, unable to resist a teasing jab. “that’s a first. i thought showing off was your whole personality.”

to your surprise, he chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “touché.”

you laughed softly, and for a moment, the tension eased, replaced by something gentler. something that made your chest feel a little too tight.

as silence crept back in, you found yourself stealing glances at him, the image of him at the campfire still vivid in your mind. his soft, tender gaze, the way his voice had drawn you in—it all felt too close, too raw.

and then there was this beomgyu, the quiet one sitting just across the room. the one who had gently handed you your keys, who opened the door for you, who seemed to peel back the layers of his loud, teasing persona when no one else was around.

why did he only act like this when it was just the two of you? and why did it make your heart ache in a way you didn’t understand?

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

the next day, everything seemed to buzz with activity. everyone was excited for the next round of team-building exercises, chatting and laughing as they gathered their things. but for you? the noise, the excitement, it all felt distant. your mind, it seemed, had other plans. it was stuck on one person—beomgyu.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him. and it wasn’t because of his usual loud antics, no, it was the strange shift in his behavior. the quiet side of him that had shown itself only around you, the one you couldn't quite understand. the one that had made your heart do this... odd thing you hated.

all day, your eyes kept drifting to him, following his movements closely, trying to figure out why he acted like an entirely different person when it was just the two of you. he wasn’t like this with anyone else—no, with everyone else, he was the cocky, annoying, loud mess that had driven you insane since the day you met him. but with you? he was soft, surprisingly calm, almost... shy? it made no sense.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the rest of the group moving on, the voices around you fading into the background. without realizing it, you had wandered off the trail, the trees around you growing denser as you turned in circles, trying to figure out where you were. you cursed under your breath, pulling out your phone—no signal, of course. and your battery was almost dead. fantastic.

you couldn’t stop pacing, frustration bubbling up in your chest as you tried to figure out which way to go. each step felt like you were sinking deeper into your own thoughts, but the world around you was becoming increasingly unfamiliar. everything felt... off. and that was when it happened.

you collided with something—someone—and before you could react, your feet slipped out from under you, sending you crashing into the ground.

as you stumbled and fell on your ass, a sharp wince escaped your lips. the grass was rough, and the fall left you a little more embarrassed than you'd care to admit. you groaned, sitting up and rubbing your backside, annoyed with yourself for losing focus like that.

but then, a soft voice broke through your frustration, pulling you from your misery.

"are you alright?"

you froze, and as your gaze lifted, you saw him—beomgyu. his bright and teasing demeanor you saw earlier replaced once more by something else entirely—something softer, almost concerned. he was standing there, looking down at you with an eyebrow slightly raised, as if waiting for an answer.

you blinked in surprise. "you? why are you... here?"

beomgyu took a few steps closer, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with you. his hands were still tucked in his jacket pockets, and there was a quiet warmth to his presence that you hadn’t expected. "i saw you wander off," he said casually, but his eyes didn’t match his laid-back tone. "thought i’d make sure you didn’t get too lost."

his words seemed so... genuine. and yet, you couldn’t shake the confusion that swirled in your mind. he saw you wander off? he was looking at you? following your every move just as you followed his? beomgyu was the last person you expected to show any sort of concern, let alone take the time to make sure you were okay.

"but how did you know?" you asked, still bewildered, glancing at him. "you’ve been with your friends the whole time, right? why would you leave them to—"

"i’m not glued to them," he interrupted quickly, his voice light but with a touch of something else—something uncharacteristically flustered yet calm both at the same time.

without explaining any further, beomgyu stood up first, taking out a hand from the pocket of his jacket before extending one towards you. his hand hovered in the air, palm up, an unspoken invitation that caught you off guard. his expression was soft, almost hesitant.

"come on," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. "we can’t look for the others with you on the ground like that, can we?"

you stared at his hand, your thoughts spinning. the way he looked at you, his eyes so steady and sincere, made your chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and unsettling.

your fingers hovered over his for a moment, unsure if you should take the offer. was this really the same beomgyu who thrived on driving you up the wall? because right now, like yesterday, he felt like someone entirely different.

after a beat, you placed your hand in his. his grip was firm but not overpowering, his hand warm against yours. the touch sent a jolt through your system, a strange mixture of comfort and something far more disconcerting.

as he gently helped you to your feet, neither of you said a word. the world around you seemed to pause—the rustling leaves, the distant chirping of birds, even the whisper of the wind—it all faded into the background. the only thing you could focus on was the way his fingers curled just slightly around yours, like he was holding on for a second longer than necessary.

when you were fully upright, he let go, but the absence of his touch left your hand tingling, like it still remembered the warmth of his.

"you good?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

you nodded, avoiding his gaze as you dusted off your pants. but you could feel his eyes on you, as if he were checking to make sure you were really okay. the air between you felt charged, heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

beomgyu took a step back, his hand now tucked back into his pocket, but the softness in his eyes hadn’t disappeared. "we’ll find the others soon. let’s just stick together, yeah?"

together. you swallowed hard, nodding again because words seemed impossible right now. something about the way he stood there, a mix of confidence and quiet sincerity, made your thoughts race.

as the two of you started walking, an odd silence stretched between you. it wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. it was charged with an unspoken tension, the kind that made you hyperaware of every step, every breath, every glance he threw your way.

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on finding your way back to the group, but your mind kept circling back to the moment that had happened only a few minutes ago—how his hand had felt around yours, how his voice had softened in a way that felt far too intimate for someone who was supposed to be your biggest annoyance.

and then there was the way he had looked at you. not with the playful mischief you were used to, but with something tender. gentle. like, for a moment, you weren’t just the person he liked to tease—you were something more.

it left you reeling, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you walked side by side. you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at him again, afraid of what you might see—or worse, what you might feel.

beomgyu, for his part, seemed calm, though you could swear he stole glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. his usual cockiness had been stripped away, replaced by a quiet vulnerability that made you feel things you didn’t want to name.

what was happening? why was beomgyu, of all people, making your heart race like this? and why did his words, his touch, linger in your mind like a song you couldn’t forget?

you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. this was beomgyu—irritating, obnoxious, infuriating beomgyu. and yet, as you walked through the forest together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than you’d ever allowed yourself to see.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as you continued to trudge through the forest path, the shadows of the trees stretching long in the fading sunlight, you couldn’t help but sigh. your earlier irritation with yourself for wandering off had transformed into full-blown worry.

what if you didn’t find the others? what if you got stuck out here, lost in the woods, forever? and worse—what if you had to spend your last moments with beomgyu of all people?

your thoughts spiraled, imagining every worst-case scenario, until a sudden pressure on your shoulder pulled you out of it.

"hey," beomgyu’s voice was calm, steady, as he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "we’ll find them. don’t worry."

the simple gesture, paired with his soft reassurance, made your heart do an annoyingly traitorous flip. gone was your panic—replaced by a wave of heat rushing to your face. of course, you weren’t worried anymore, you were now flustered.

you glanced at him, trying to gauge how he could be so calm in this situation. but instead of his usual teasing smirk or overconfident grin, he was looking at you with that same quiet sincerity he’d been using on you since the day before.

determined to shake off the growing tension between you, you cleared your throat and finally spoke. "so… why were you even around to see me wandering off in the first place? you’re not exactly known for being observant, you know."

beomgyu blinked, startled by your sudden question. then he narrowed his eyes playfully, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "well, excuse me for caring, i guess. i happened to notice you lagging behind, and since i’m such a kind, thoughtful person, i figured i’d check on you."

you snorted, crossing your arms. "oh, please. kind and thoughtful? you must’ve hit your head on a tree branch or something."

he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush creeping across his cheeks. "believe it or not, i’m capable of being nice."

"mhm, sure." you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. "so nice that you waited until i got lost before showing up. really great timing there, choi."

he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "wow, no gratitude whatsoever. next time, i’ll just let you wander into a bear’s den or something."

"oh, so now you’re a wildlife expert too?" you shot back, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

the banter came easily, easing the awkwardness that had been building between you. but beneath the light teasing, you couldn’t ignore the way your chest still felt tight, your heart still fluttering from his earlier gesture.

"seriously, though," you said after a pause, looking at him curiously. "why did you come after me? it’s not like you to… well, you know, care. for me.”

his steps faltered just slightly, but he recovered quickly, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "i don’t know," he said, his voice quieter now. "i guess i just… noticed."

you blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. his gaze stayed forward, avoiding yours, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn there was something unspoken lingering in the air between you.

but then he cleared his throat and grinned, his usual confidence slipping back into place. "besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get eaten by a bear."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the tiny smile that crept onto your face. "right, like you’d be so helpful in a bear attack."

"oh, i would be. they’ll just think i’m one of them," he says smugly, imitating a bear growling with hand gestures, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as the two of you continued down the path, the unease from earlier began to fade, replaced by a strange, tentative comfort. maybe being stuck in the woods with beomgyu wasn’t the worst thing after all.

as the conversation flowed between you two, it was almost startling how natural it felt. gone was the sharp banter or pointed glares—replaced instead by an ease you hadn’t realized you could have with beomgyu. and for a moment, as ridiculous as it sounded, it felt like you’d been walking this path together for ages.

but then a chilly breeze swept through the trees, interrupting the moment and sending a shiver racing up your spine. instinctively, you crossed your arms and tucked your hands under them, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could.

“cold?” beomgyu’s voice broke the silence, soft but tinged with concern.

“no, i’m fine,” you said quickly, but the involuntary shudder that followed betrayed you.

he didn’t say anything at first. you glanced at him and saw his brows furrowed slightly, as though he were debating something. before you could question it, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to you.

“here,” he said, his voice quieter now.

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what? no, i can’t—what about you? won’t you freeze?”

he hesitated for only a second before shaking his head. “it’s fine. i don’t really feel the cold anyway,” he said, his tone casual, but the way he avoided your gaze told you otherwise. “just… take it. it’s no big deal.”

now it was your turn to hesitate, your fingers hovering over the jacket, but the way he stood there, holding it out so patiently, made it impossible to refuse. finally, you took it, slipping it on and immediately basking in the warmth it provided. it was oversized on you, the sleeves covering your hands, and it smelled faintly of something sweet and familiar—like peach and vanilla.

“thanks,” you mumbled, the heat creeping up your cheeks doing little to combat the chill.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, but you noticed the faint flush dusting his own cheeks as he quickly looked away.

still, you couldn’t help but frown slightly. “seriously, though... aren’t you going to get cold?”

he shook his head, his hands now stuffed into his pockets. “as long as you’re not cold, it’s fine.”

his words were simple, but they hit you harder than they should have. your heart skipped, the warmth of his jacket suddenly feeling like it had seeped into your chest.

neither of you spoke for a moment, the quiet stretching between you. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something charged about it—like there was a question hanging in the air, waiting to be asked.

finally, unable to ignore the question that had been eating away at you, you blurted out, “why are you so quiet around me but not around anyone else?”

beomgyu froze mid-step, his gaze snapping to yours. his eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect the question, maybe throw out a teasing remark like he always did. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in that nervous way you were starting to recognize. when he finally looked at you, his expression wasn’t smug or playful, it was… vulnerable.

“do you really wanna know?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.

your throat felt tight, but you nodded. “yeah. i do.”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as though trying to steady himself. “it’s because you’re… different,” he said at last, his voice tentative, almost unsure.

you blinked, his words taking a moment to sink in. “different?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him.

he nodded, still not looking at you. “yeah. with everyone else, it’s easy to be… loud, annoying, whatever. because, honestly? i don’t really care what they think. it doesn’t matter if I’m too much for them.”

his words made your chest tighten. “but with me…?” you prompted, your voice softer now, almost afraid to break the fragile moment hanging between you.

beomgyu finally met your gaze, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the courage to say whatever it was he wanted to. “with you, i.. i care about what you think, and… actually, i feel like this is who i really am,” he said quietly, his tone raw and uncertain.

your breath caught, and you tilted your head slightly, frowning. “really?” you asked, disbelief lacing your voice. “i don’t buy it. you’re saying the real you is quiet and… shy? come on.”

he let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “okay, maybe not completely,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile before it faded again. “but…”

“but…?” you pressed once more, your voice barely above a whisper now.

beomgyu’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away again, his fingers tugging at his sleeve nervously. “when I’m alone with you…” he began, his voice faltering. “i feel like i can be myself, but… i also feel like i need to be careful. like i can’t mess up. can’t mess… us up.”

your breath hitched. “us?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you.

beomgyu rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered now. he looked at you, his eyes filled with something so vulnerable and tender that it made your heart ache. “sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

but you shook your head quickly, your voice steadying. “no, i’m… glad you did.”

he blinked, caught off guard by your response, but the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. and for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you no longer feeling heavy—but something closer to understanding.

before you could ask more about the “us” thing—what it meant, what he meant—the sound of your classmates’ voices suddenly echoed through the forest, distant but unmistakable.

the moment between you and beomgyu shattered in an instant, the bubble you’d unknowingly been wrapped in dissolving into nothing.

you both turned toward the noise, his expression shifting almost immediately. the soft vulnerability that had painted his features was replaced by something more guarded. it was like watching a door close, locking away everything you’d just seen.

“looks like we found them,” he murmured, his voice steady but quieter now.

you nodded, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “right… yay...” you say, trying to mask your true emotions, shrugging off the jacket as you gave it back to him.

as the two of you began walking toward the sound of your classmates, the tension from before had all but vanished, replaced by something unspoken yet undeniably heavy.

but deep down, you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name. disappointment? regret? whatever it was, it lingered like a weight in your chest, leaving you more unsettled than you cared to admit.

and as the laughter and chatter of your peers grew louder, you couldn’t help but wish, just for a moment, that you hadn’t found them at all.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

once back with your original peers, the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter surrounded you, bringing a sense of normalcy. the comforting hum of routine should’ve helped ground you, but it didn’t. instead, your thoughts spiraled back to the forest; to the tender and rather intimate moments you shared with beomgyu.

his soft, almost hesitant touch when he helped you up, the uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice, the banter that felt more like a connection than an annoyance… and then there was his small confession, lingering in your mind like an unsolved puzzle.

“us.”

the word echoed in your mind, heavy with unanswered questions. what did he mean by “us”? why couldn’t you shake the look in his eyes when he said it, like it was a truth he wasn’t ready to face?

the day carried on as usual, but your focus was elsewhere. even surrounded by your friends, your gaze would drift toward him.

and the strange thing was, you weren’t the only one.

more than once, you caught him looking at you. sometimes it was fleeting, his eyes darting away the second yours met his. other times, the moments stretched, and neither of you would look away fast enough.

each glance made your heart thud harder, the silence between those exchanges speaking louder than any words ever could.

as the sun dipped below the horizon and the camp settled down for the night, the realization hit you—you were going back to your room; the room you shared with beomgyu.

your heart rate flared at the thought, your nerves on edge. the memory of earlier replayed in your head—the quiet, the tension, the shared warmth of his jacket.

but this time, you decided you wouldn’t let it all end in ambiguity. no, you’d find out. find out what “us” meant.

as you trudged toward the room, the chill of the night air nipping at your skin, your thoughts raced. this was your last night here, your last night sharing the same cramped space with beomgyu. by tomorrow, this strange, unexpected closeness would most probably dissolve back into whatever it had been before this trip.

if you didn’t do something now—if you didn’t try to get the answers you needed—you might never see this side of him again.

the thought made your chest tighten. you couldn’t let this pass you by.

when you reached the door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the knob. inside, beomgyu was already there, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his phone in hand. he glanced up when you entered, his expression unreadable.

“hey,” he murmured, his voice low, almost tentative.

“hey,” you replied, your throat tightening as you moved to sit on your bed. the space between you felt heavier than usual, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a fragile thread waiting to snap.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to gather the right words. the room was quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves outside the window, the stillness amplifying the rapid thudding of your heart. your eyes flickered directly towards beomgyu, catching the subtle way his fingers fidgeted, the way his gaze occasionally darted toward you and then away again, as if he, too, was battling something unsaid.

finally, the weight of the silence became too much. “so…” your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. “earlier. in the forest.”

his head lifted slightly, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “yeah? what about it?”

you hesitated, your chest tightening as the memories of his words—the softness in his gaze, the tremble in his voice—played over in your mind. “you said something about… ‘us.’” you swallowed hard, the vulnerability in your tone almost too much for you to bear. “i want to understand. i want to know what that means.”

his entire body stilled, his fingers curling into his palms. the tension between you was almost suffocating now, the air thick with an unspoken weight that neither of you seemed ready to face.

he exhaled sharply, a nervous laugh slipping past his lips. “it’s not that big of a deal,” he muttered, his voice lacking conviction.

you couldn’t stand it anymore. the air between you both was thick, suffocating, and every time you tried to get close to the truth, beomgyu just pushed you away again, retreating into his shell. you felt like you were running in circles, chasing a truth that he wouldn’t give you. it was maddening, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“beomgyu,” you said, your voice firm and filled with frustration as you stood up from your bed, making your way in front of his. “don’t do this. don’t keep brushing me off. you know this is a big deal, and you’re not going to get away with ignoring it!”

he flinched, his gaze quickly darting to the side, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. he was so close to losing control, and you weren’t going to let him hide anymore. you took another step forward, your pulse racing with every second that passed. you weren’t backing down.

“this is a huge deal,” you pressed, your voice rising with each word. “it’s killing me that you won’t just say it. say what it is, what’s been going on in your head, why you’re so quiet and distant around me so suddenly.” your breath was coming quicker now, your patience running thin. “i don’t care what you’re trying to hide, beomgyu. tell me.”

beomgyu was looking anywhere but at you. you could see how frustrated he was, his chest rising and falling with every breath, his fingers twitching like he wanted to run away. but you weren’t going to let him. you stepped closer again, your voice almost a growl. “seriously, just tell me!”

beomgyu’s frustration was starting to boil over, and the mask of cool indifference that he always wore was slipping, revealing the raw emotions beneath as he finally stands too. “you don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. “i don’t know how to say it. i don’t know how to explain this. it’s so damn frustrating, and you make it even worse by pushing me!”

his words cut through you, and the intensity in his voice made your breath catch in your throat. for a moment, you thought he was going to explode, his emotions flooding out in a wave of pent-up frustration. but then, in the middle of all his tension, his eyes snapped to yours, and what you saw there shook you to your core.

“you think i don’t want to tell you?” he demanded, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and something much softer. “you think i don’t want to just come out and say it? i do, okay? but it’s not that simple. i can’t just… i can’t just tell you like it’s nothing! i… can’t do that. i can’t pretend it’s nothing, not when it’s you.”

his words were laced with a frustration that you didn’t fully understand, but it made your heart race even faster. “you’re so damn difficult, beomgyu,” you muttered, clenching your fists by your sides, “why can’t you just say it? what’s stopping you?”

his face flushed, and you could see his jaw tighten as he wrestled with his emotions. and then, finally, it all came crashing down.

he stepped forward so suddenly that you almost staggered back. his hands grabbed your arms, his grip tight and desperate, yet also gentle and tentative. his voice was a low growl, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion.

“because, damn it, i can’t just tell you like it’s no big deal. it’s not just some stupid crush—i like you. a lot! and every time i try to act normal around you, it–it feels like i’m going to explode! i can’t just act like it’s nothing because it’s everything; when it’s just you and me, i.. i just can’t handle it. y-you make me so nervous, like i’m walking on a damn tightrope...”

oh.

you were caught off guard, completely speechless. the words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could even fully process what he’d said, he kept going, his grip on you tightening.

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he spat, his eyes blazing with frustration. “when i’m around everyone else, it’s easy to hide; it’s easy to be loud and obnoxious because that’s the only way i don’t turn into a damn mess around you. but when it’s just us, i… can’t pretend. i can’t be that guy. i don’t know how to be. it’s why i followed you when you got lost in the forest—you make me care too much, so much, that it scares me.”

his voice cracked with the weight of the confession, and his words hung heavy in the air between you, charged with so much emotion that it was almost suffocating. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, just standing there, the tension between you so thick you could practically taste it.

finally, he let out a frustrated breath and pulled away from you, running a hand through his hair, his chest heaving with every breath. “i don’t know what to do with myself when i’m around you,” he muttered, more quietly this time, “i just… i want to be careful. i don’t want to mess things up. i don’t want to ruin whatever this is. teasing and annoying you was all i could do to get even an ounce of attention from you.”

you stared at him, your heart still racing as his words settled over you, and it was like everything that had been confusing and chaotic finally made sense. all of his teasing, all of the weird moments, the way he acted around you— it all came rushing together in one big, undeniable truth.

he likes you. beomgyu likes you.

and just like that, everything felt different. the tension that had been building between you finally snapped, and the weight that had been pressing on your chest seemed to ease, but the tension still lingered in the air.

“you’re… so frustrating, beomgyu,” you whispered, your voice trembling with exasperation and disbelief.

beomgyu stood frozen for a moment, his expression shifting from confusion to a mix of guilt and frustration. his fingers twitched at his sides, but he didn’t make a move to speak, unsure how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions between you two.

“you seriously just… couldn’t say it, could you?” you continued, your voice rising in both exasperation and something deeper, something that made your heart race. “you had to play all these stupid games, mess with my head, act all ridiculous just for me to finally understand what you were trying to say.”

you could see the way beomgyu’s jaw clenched, his eyes flitting away, as if trying to escape the weight of your words. he ran a hand through his hair again, his lips pulling into a tight line, but still, he remained silent. in the face of your frustration, all he could do was look at you.

“but, you know what, beomgyu? you’re lucky,” you muttered, barely above a whisper, but the words hit harder than anything you had said before. “because, if i didn’t know any better, i… i’m pretty sure i like you too.”

beomgyu’s eyes snapped to yours immediately, his breath catching. his whole body froze in disbelief, and for a moment, the world seemed to come to a halt around you. his lips parted, but no words came out. instead, his hands fidgeted nervously, betraying how overwhelmed he was. his eyes darted between you and the floor, unsure of what to do with himself.

the silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy, making your heart race louder than ever. you could barely breathe as you waited for him to react, but it was your turn now. it had to be.

"you’re so damn frustrating," you murmured, shaking your head. you let out a shaky breath, your words tumbling out with an intensity that surprised even you. "how did we even get here? why couldn’t you just tell me? why do you always have to make everything so difficult?"

beomgyu’s face flushed, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes were still wide, and his body remained tense, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. you could see the vulnerability in him, raw and exposed, and it only made you more certain of what you needed to say.

"i don’t know why, but you—" you stopped yourself, your chest tightening with every word. "i don’t know why, but no matter how annoying you are, you still make my heart race like this. it’s ridiculous. you frustrate the hell out of me, you know that?" you laughed weakly, trying to hide the shake in your voice. "but even when you do, i just... i still can’t stop thinking about you. i still look forward to our stupid banter, even when i can barely stand it."

beomgyu’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and he took a step closer, as if drawn in by the force of your words. but you weren't done yet.

"and now... after all of this, after seeing the real you, the person behind the jokes, behind the teasing... it’s like i fell for you even more. it’s ridiculous." you let out a frustrated sigh, but your voice softened, almost tender as you looked up at him. "i hate how much i like you, beomgyu. i hate how you make everything so complicated, but i can’t help it. you’re just... you. and i like you. more than i ever realized."

there was a beat of silence, and it felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest. you finally let out a long breath, not noticing that you’d taken another step closer to him until you could feel the warmth of his presence, the heat radiating off him.

beomgyu’s gaze was still fixed on you, wide-eyed, processing everything you had just said. his lips parted, but this time, there were no words—just a shaky breath escaping him as if he was holding back a flood of emotions.

he opened his mouth again, but you reached up, placing a hand gently on his chest, stopping him before he could speak.

"let me just say this," you whispered, your voice steady now, but full of emotions you could no longer hold back. "i get it now. i get why you act like you do, why you tease me, why you hide behind your jokes. but i’m not afraid of it anymore. i’m not afraid of you." you paused, your heart pounding in your chest. "i just want you. all of you."

and in that moment, you saw it—the relief in his eyes, the vulnerability that softened his entire expression. it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if everything was finally out in the open.

beomgyu took a shaky step forward, his hand reaching for yours, but this time, he didn’t pull back. he let his fingers brush against yours, just the smallest touch, but it spoke volumes. his gaze lingered on your face, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he found was the truth in your eyes.

"you really mean that?" he asked, his voice so quiet, yet full of wonder.

you smiled softly, your heart thumping louder in your chest. "yeah. i really do."

beomgyu’s lips parted once more, and for a moment, it seemed like he couldn’t find the words. but you didn’t need them. you both already understood. he stepped closer, closing the space between you two, and without a single word, he leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours.

the tension that had been building between you, from the teasing, the quiet moments, the stolen glances—all of it hung thick in the air. every single moment, every brush of skin, every unspoken thought, seemed to crash down in this instant. there was no more room for uncertainty, no more hesitation. only the rawness of everything you had felt up until now.

and then, without thinking, you both moved in simultaneously. his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss, but it quickly deepened, the weight of everything between you pouring into it. the kiss was slow, yet filled with an urgency, a need to express everything you hadn’t said. the teasing, the frustration, the distance—all of it disappeared with each passing second.

his hands moved to cradle your face, his touch tender, as if he was afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell. you responded in kind, your hands coming to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was as if all the moments you had shared—those fleeting touches, the playful banter, the shared silences—came together in this one kiss.

it was everything. everything you both had been holding back, everything you had been afraid to say, all flowing into this one moment. the kiss was filled with emotion, the kind of emotion that words could never fully capture. the laughter, the annoyance, the softness, the longing—everything.

you felt him deepen the kiss, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, and for the first time, you both gave in completely. there was no more acting, no more hiding behind jokes or walls. just beomgyu, just you. two hearts finally in sync, beating in time with each other.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, his forehead rested against yours, and you both stayed there for a moment, silently savoring the connection. the air was thick with emotion, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

and just like that, everything finally fell into place.

168 notes · View notes

currentfandomkick · 1 month ago

Text

Based on this post

Tim tried not to remember.

But when you die the first time from electrocution and get dosed with enough ecto-everything the first time you die, electricity becomes a memory trigger.

Static shocks from a sweater just reminds you of shock wars with someone warm, no specific images.

Somedays when you get hit with Nightwing’s escrima sticks, even low level, you get a flicker of fighting some Discount Dracula and brush it off as a hallucination.

A few rogues hit him with live wires in the rain. Those were always bad. Flickers of people in googles and the worst neon jumpsuits hovering over him, saying words he couldn’t hear. He always felt floaty after, and hid at Drake Manor in his parents’ closet.

His mom’s perfume and Dad’s rank colognes were grounding. those hallucinations were getting worse, sure, but you’re Robin, and as Robin you can’t let Batman down.

Nightwing needs a brother that he can trust to handle Bruce’s depression, suicidal-by-vigilantism, and escalating violence. Nightwing holds everyone else together. Tim can hold just himself and Bruce together and give Alfred a break.

Tim can do it, he swears. He can’t fill growing void Jason’s death left, but he can make supports for Bruce’s crumbling everything. He can be a safety net for Alfred, who is never given grieving space for his lost loved one. He can be the no-drama little brother Nightwing needs after Jason’s death.

But he will not touch being Bruce’s son. Especially after the JJ incident and the memory influx. Bruce is too much like Jack as Brucie, too much like Fruitloop as Batman.

Tim is not Alfred’s grandson or son. He’s a co-parent for Bruce in his time of need (and bullying the man back into someone Jason had loved once). Alfred can be his friend, bug not family.

Tim always honored the dead and mourns them, even when they don’t remember him. Even those that never knew him stretching centuries back. He learned from this life’s parents that bonds are sacred and their loss devastating. They showed him in archeology and actions.

And Tim, he. He’s doing okay.

After the Joker and Freakshow merging into one personas he was shocked over and over.

He heard Freakshow say to kill Sam in the memory.

Vlad strapping him down and zapping him over and over again. His parents vivisecting him despite his screams. Jazz killing them and helping him escape, only to die in Tucker and Sam’s arms in the car. Again.

He killed the Joker then and there. Gun shot.

After the Joker got him and he escaped, he was doing Fine, really! Spectra overlaid on Harley at times, cooing he’s a creepy boy with freaky little powers and his misery is her favorite food.

He has to be useful. Keep Bruce’s head above water. Keep Nightwing from worrying about him. Be the easy kid and he’s loved (conditionally).

His dad only showed up and spoke to him about sports he couldn’t get into, but his new step-mom softened him. He can admit to missing and mourning mom while relaxing so much with Dana.

Dana noticed him flinching at lightning, gave him a noise machine, and offered to get him noise cancelling headphones.

When he admitted his hearing got ‘a lot better lately’ as quietly as he could, she hugged him and told him she’d break the meta abilities to Jack for him.

It wasn’t like Tim hid the ‘tortured by Joker for a few weeks’ thing. Dad knew it was Tim that was nabbed. He also knew Tim was in a Robin costume for a cosplay contest, and found out afterwards how… well, Tim being Robin was.

There are a lot of open secrets in the family. In the extended Drake family, that includes the first Black Canary was Diana Drake, who had too-sticky fingers and was disowned when she kept failing to either improve in hiding it or stop. The meta abilities were low on Tim’s list of priorities as existing… breaking it to Bruce was a hard no-go. So mastering them quickly was key.

Dana asked if he’d tested his vocal range.

Tim had not.

They started with a piano to check. Tim… Tim went far above and below where Dana could hear as they switched to everything from dog whistles to playing with infrasound.

Jack walked in at some-point and they didn’t notice.

Tim was busy working out if hearing echolocation from the Caves’ bats is why he started getting annoyed when he was there that he finally saw Jack sitting there, watching Dana test him.

Tim braced for yelling.

He got a hug. And his Dad holding him too tight while whispering “please don’t leave like Diana”

Tim did break a bit. Not for long, but enough.

Jack finding the Robin suit was not on Tim’s bingo card during the time he was debating coming clean to his fellow Just Us members about his meta-awakening.

Nor was going to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know he was planning to take a break from Robin for personal reasons, only to find his Dad holding Bruce at gun point and demanding Bruce “stay the fuck away from my son”

Jack did hit Bruce with the butt of his gun after Bruce muttered something Tim didn’t hear.

Jack drove them back, the silence tight around his throat. Everything in him demanded he scream to get this growing thing out.

He slammed his hands over his mouth.

Dad pulled over and helped him to a warehouse, feigning needing to vomit.

Tim kept the pitch above human hearing as he screamed, screamed down and was shaking all over.

Jack rubbed his own ears for a moment before helping a collapsing Tim back to the car.

Jack called Tim out sick and the three had a Talk about him being Robin. Especially with his powers emerging.

“Look, B doesn’t know. None of his masks do.” He’d have heard it from Bruce by now if he had. “Nightwing doesn’t either.”

“Batgirl, and the purple one, if they know they’ll tell that prick—”

“Jack,” Dana warned. “Tim, does anyone have any reason to suspect anything?”

Tim took a deep breath and sighed. “No one but us. Diana did a good job severing traceable links back, and I’m not even sure if the current Black Canary knows her mom was from Gotham or believes the cover Diana gave out.”

Jack’s shoulders dropped as the tension drained out of him. “That’s, that’s good.”

“… you have to apologize for the gun at somepoint,” Tim grumbled.

“Not if you’re not Robin.”

“… i may have been debating dropping Robin and toying with making a new alias again.”

“… is this another Mr. Sarcastic thing,” Dana whispered to him.

“Dana!”

“What? I’m not detective but i did do my research young man,” she teased while jabbing a finger at him playfully.

“I—Tim what am I looking at, why is there no armor, and how are you bald?”

“Hahaha, how about we pretend that stint didn’t happen and go over conditions for me solving crimes—we all know i’ll find a way and my team is notorious for international incidents on low stakes, let alone what we’re willing to do for each other.”

Jack and Dana shared a look.

“No Batman.”

“No heroing in Gotham,” Dana added to Tim’s surprise. “Not until we have a better idea on scope, triggers and how you can control and manage your abilities as well as how out you want to be as a meta, in each identity. You can’t unring a bell.”

Tim sighed. “Got it, got it… so i can go on missions with Young Justice still?”

“I’m writing a note that Batman is not allowed near you,” Jack insisted. “He’s not willing to do what it takes to keep you alive.”

Tim took a deep breath before agreeing to that term, and asking to update Alfred and Dick on the matter.

Jack moved to stop him but Dana gave him the go ahead.

Alfred accepted the situation for what it was. Dick offered to sponsor him in the hero community in Bruce’s stead, and reminded him the Titans are always happy to have him, Robin or not.

Jack rolled his eyes but let it slide.

“So Young Justice Missions…”

“Is there an adult on the team?”

“Red tornado is our supervisor,” Tim answered quickly.

“…fine.”

“And Titan missions?”

“They’re adults, they can keep an eye on you,” Jack conceded easily. “Maybe one of them can help with the new,” Jack gestured to all of Tim.

Tim huffed at him. “Thanks dad, really means a lot.”

Jack waved him off. “Weapons check at the window, supervision on missions, and we keep working with your powers. You can tell who you choose, but if you want to be out as a hero, you will be making a new name and will not be patrolling Gotham under this roof, am i understood?”

Tim paused. “So in college I can or—“

“Tim,” Dana warned.

Tim sighed. “Got it… but i can still do casework that’s not in the field?”

“As long as they can’t trace you.”

“Great! And shit, I’ll have to let my rogues know.”

“ ‘your’ rogues?” Jack echoed in disbelief.

Tim smiled at Jack. “Yeah. Some are just mine, especially Anarchy. And Nygma is going to be so bored without me.”

Jack looked at the ceiling. “You just had to be Robin, didn’t you.”

Tim smiled. “Someone needed to, and its not hard to be light to Batman’s dark after the last one.”

The silence hung again. “No dying on me,” Jack warned Tim. “I’m serious.”

Details were ironed out on the days to come. Dana made him promise to call daily while he stayed with the Titans. To not run from her and Jack, please. He also had daily pitch practice, and was given noise dampening headphones as a disability aide for a general sensory disorder so Tim could better focus in classes.

Jack still didn’t trust Batman/Bruce for shit.

…And Tim can’t fault him. Not when he knows his dad wasnt joking about being willing to kill to give Tim a chance at being safe. And that the man who killed mom and put Dad into physical therapy died in jail a few weeks before they moved from a mansion to an apartment.

Tim isnt stupid. Drakes kill to keep their own safe. Bats don’t.

Tim…. Tim doesnt want to, and Dad respects it. Dana isnt the killing type, but won’t stop Jack or whoever he hires.

Joker’s persistent living status AFTER killing the second Robin didn’t endear Bruce to Jack in the slightest. Tim being tortured for weeks and awakening the family meta-gene only soured whatever mild distaste remained into visceral disgust.

Stephanie became Gotham’s Robin while Tim is now the YJ’s and Titan’s was the only compromise Jack would make.

Jack’s rules made more sense as Tim’s… memories(?) from his last life began to spill out. The mundanities of school and home were easily manageable. Making small memory shrines to his late friends in his last life soothed an ache in his chest. Tucker had a sand timer and random bits and bobs for tech, Sam got a few house plants and his old camera. Jazz had a teddy bear and a few psychology papers he thought she might enjoy. Dani got fudge and a few language books with a world map. He still felt guilty for not stopping her death. Technus got an old handheld he didn’t use anymore, Ember got incense and he played indi rock for her. Dora got a dragon figurine and a Disney princess folder with some dress designs he thought she’d like. Pandora has a few batarangs he scavenged and fixed. Frostbite’s was by the icemaker, and was gifted herbal tea blends in ice cube form.

Dana called it grieving and encouraged him to let it happen and let himself feel. He… tried not to think about Jack and Maddie.

Tim trippled down on cold cases to cope. Jack began to turn off the internet after 3 am, only to work again after 9.

He was managing. And working out pitches and how they relate to his emotional state.

The problem came with training at the Tower as Robin, the boy with no powers and working through joker trauma.

During a spar with Dick, Tim had a flashback to Dani’s End and Perfect Danny melting. His own fucking Death too!

It was vomit inducing.

He came to to Nightwing crowding him and murmuring, “breathe with me baby bird”

They didnt talk about it after.

Tim noticed Dick stopped using electricity during their spars altogether, and carefully stayed a certain distance from him in the field. Static picked up on it and Tim shook his head when he moved to talk about it. He just. Needed a bit more time.

He hated himself for it. For the concern causing and being so… useless.

He grabbed another stack of cold cases in Bludhaven and kept solving them, as Tim, Robin and left ghem for Dick to handle.

Dana and him would practice his range at home. Piano ready.

He forgot that plants snitch to Ivy.

Ivy tapping his window to state the dandelions found his singing ‘annoying’ and he’d be getting lessons in singing for plants “or else” was an experience he did not need, nor was he reporting to anyone until a few days later.

Dad took a deep breath and asked him if this is what he wanted.

Dana offered to move closer to her home town and job hunt there if it made Tim more comfortable.

Ultimately Tim ended up getting lessons in plant language from Ivy, as he could hear them anyways. It could be useful for when he works out a new vigilante identity in the future.

Stephanie catching him at Ivy’s while her big boy “Denny” was arguing with Tim about if Tim can shatter concrete with a scream yet given his voice is cracking every other word lately was not in his plans.

Stephanie was about to ask what was going on when Ivy chimed in with “now Timmy, Benny isn’t wrong about it if we go with a thin layer of concrete and you put some effort into it. You can go very low and it does freak out people when you follow the angry tree hum. Now, if you scream that it should be destructive—didn’t a cousin of yours have the same meta ability?”

Tim denied it as keeping cousin Diana’s secret was a family thing. Ivy finding it out with how hidden it had been was not in the cards. Stephanie overhearing was also far from ideal.

Ivy let it go eventually, and demanded Tim do more community service for the beaches. He had no objections, and just asked if she could not implicate him in her next murder spree.

Ivy agreed to ‘think about it’ before letting Tim go after he finished reorganizing some of her chemicals and cleaning her tools. Their agreed ‘payment’ for his lessons in plant language and her interest in his meta abilities being vocal based but having a major change in his hearing.

He wasn’t the first meta she’d taken an interest in helping, and Tim saw signs of others, bumping into a few before and none of them saying shit.

Stephanie met up with him a block away from Ivy’s lair.

She hit him like Sam used to. And agreed to say nothing until he gave the word.

Her reminding him of Sam ached in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Her agreeing to say nothing relaxed him more than he realized he needed to.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. But Ivy for help?”

“Plants outted me. Apparently my singing is disturbing.”

“It is, the plants have good taste.”

He let himself feel normal for a bit. Ivy doesn’t out metas or use them. She is going to kill though, and probably ask for a few warehouses as payment or bribery for her silence on his skills at a later date… which Tim could give her in a few years time as those were in the trust set up by his mother before her death.

Her offerings were given by everyone at home. Dana left her baked goods. Tim left his grades by her shrine when he wasn’t closing cases—the solved ones were left there for a day or so before he’d change them out. Dad spoke to her sometimes, getting her up-to-date on the gossip in their field and new achievements from colleagues they liked and failures from those she despised.

It was comforting.

Dad even knew Tim was planning to do landback with a chunk of ‘wasteland’ that the company kept dumping on, and was planning to rehab it beforehand. If he had slipped an army of sunflower seeds there a while back and gave Ivy a tip about it well… she was willing to trade info on a few cases that he fed back to Stephanie as Robin. Ivy may also catch him working a few cold cases now and then.

He’s aware she’s a dangerous rogue and will continue to kill. He also knows that when he focused on solving a string of women’s deaths and located the (still living) killer that the man was dead after their lesson, and before he submitted his findings to the GCPD cold cases department.

He’s not stupid. He knows she prefers to kill. But he doesn’t.

It makes working with the Titans on weekends awkward when Nightwing begins to notice Tim responding before the others and frowning into the air when the grass gives him tips on when events take place and for incoming company.

No one presses him on it. Static bumps his shoulder and passed a ‘talk when you’re ready’ note to him.

Then the fact Ivy did not hit him with cuddle pollen but did hit Stephanie as Robin and threw them in a room together was just plain embarrassing.

It also meant Ivy figured Tim or Robin had a crush on the other and just. Why?

He finally understood how Sam felt during Ember’s first appearance and he was made to lovestick… sort of. Stephanie koalaing him until they broke out and he managed to get them to one of the quieter Paramedics two blocks over wasnt the same. But close enough.

Dana did get the alert about him being near the attack, and she looked at him too much like Jazz had when she was concerned for his wellbeing.

He wondered what Tucker would say to all this. Two lives and two sets of parents later, and the one who checks him first is the step mom closer to Babs’ age than his father’s.

There’s a million jokes Tucker could make about that.

Dana and Dad had a talk about it, and Tim knew it was written just so he didnt hear it. He hears so much more lately its maddening some days.

He was given the upcoming three-day weekend to stay with the Titans, and Dana suggested asking Raven for tips on managing reincarnation memories.

Dad said he called for a “Jazz, Sam and Tucker” in his sleep a lot. A “Valerie ” on occasion too.

He wanted to melt into a puddle.

Dad muttering he’d find his first parents’ souls and get back at them his damn self didn’t help in the slightest… nor did seeing Dana hide Constantine’s business card in her tampon drawer.

He gave in a bit. His friends can’t know yet, not while he’s working it out. And Raven is Dick’s friend—it would get back to him too fast for Tim’s liking.

He knocked on the door.

“Tim?”

“Hey Virgil, is now an okay time for that talk?”

—

That’s what i got for now. May do another part if anyone is interested.

Also let me know if i missed any tags

#dpxdc #long post #reincarnated danny #danny reincarnated at Tim #tim drake #good dad jack #good mom dana #my writing

159 notes · View notes

baldbaby69 · 1 month ago

Text

𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

ᵇᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Summary: After being kidnapped bakugo finds comfort within your presence until he can’t anymore.

angst

ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᴵ

ᴸᵒˢᵗ ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ. He was scared, petrified even. He didn't know if it would be possible to recover. He was traumatised and it scared him how bad this was effecting him and his ability to reach number one. If he could get scared this easily was he really worthy of becoming a Pro hero?

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ. Everyone had their eyes on him and he hated it. He was suppose to be strong. He had a reputation but he felt himself shrink under each gaze he fell under because everyone noticed the fear that surrounded him except you.

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒˡᵈ. Its been over months and he felt like he couldn't face the world. To him everything was falling apart. He felt like everyone was against him except you.

ᴬˡˡ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. So he spent the majority of his time at in his dorm room and the weekend at home. Even his own mother began to worry about the boy and it was unusual for her to do so. She tried to talk to him but he never responded to the small talk she would start when she brought his laundry to him. He would just shrug and get back to reading but he felt different when it was you. ('ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿ' ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ)

ᴹᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵗ. Was he being dramatic? It wasn't his intention to so why did he feel the need to act like this. Like some sad little extra who lost a fight. He wasn't some extra, he was Katsuki Bakugo. The king explosion Murder. He didn't need the pity or have to time to be sad. He had a goal to reach and he would turn to you when he felt like it was getting further from his reach.ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵗ

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵀᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐʸ ᵉʸᵉˢ. Were things ever going to get back to normal? Or did he just have to blow up everyone till they lost their sight. Until he wasn’t the hot topic anymore. All they would do was whisper amongst each other while he walked down the halls. Or go easy on him while he sparred complaing about how they didn't want to hurt him. Suddenly he was a brittle piece of glass, even a push of wind would blow him away but he felt you would be there to catch him.

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. But not you. Never you. Even before he was kidnapped you would always ask him to teach you some moves and help you with studying and skills. Like he was a role model that you looked up to. That hasn't changed. Now whenever he walked into class his eyes would land on yours first and watched as your face turn from a bored expression to the biggest smile he had ever seen plastered on your face. Even bigger than before. Almost like, you were grateful he was here.

ᵂⁱˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷᵉʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵘᵉ. He didn't like the attention he got but when it was you. He hated it. He hated having you seeing him in this state. He wanted to hide somewhere you would never find him but you always did. But something about the way you looked at him was different. When he would make eye contact with your gaze, he wish he could drown in them. It was like it was a safe space for him. Just for him and he hated it just as much as he hated you.

ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᴵ. So he cancelled your Sunday study sessions and went home for the weekend. Did you care? nope. Your knuckles bruised against his family home door as you'd wait to be let in by his mom who would always welcome you with a warm hug. She would lead you to his room and close the door behind her as she left you two to stay in the silence Bakugo was already drowning in. Some days you would sit in his chair and do your study sessions without speaking at all and other days you would lay on his bed and talk about anything that came across your mind. You never realised because you were so deep into speaking your thoughts out loud that he was actually watching you with his back against his head board. He would pretend to be nose deep into the book he was reading but in reality he was knees deep into the flower filled garden your voice led him to. Made him feel like as long as you were there nothing could go wrong. (ᴵ'ᵈ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ)

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ. Until he felt like an addict. On the Sundays you wouldn't come and he felt worried. Did you get bored of him? Did your payment stop coming in to babysit him? Did you find someone else to manipulate with your stupid smile. On Sundays when you would come over the two of you would catch the last train back to U.A after having dinner with his family. But not for the past few weeks. He started from waiting in his room with the door slightly open for the little knocks you would throw and his mothers outbursts of excitement to have you over to waiting in the living room closer to the door to hear your little steps walk up to his house. To stop waiting at all. ('ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ)

ᴹᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ. He had half the mind to take you back to his home and keep you in his room forever. It made him feel very weird. He never understood why he felt like this. In school you acted fine. Ate lunch with him and his friends while laughing obnoxiously loud that would make every head turn towards your table. Maybe thats what made him tolerate you. Your need to not give a care in the world to what was happening around you. He never realised when the feeling of being around you made him feel safe started. Maybe it was when your face was the first one he saw after being trapped for hours. You busted through those doors without any trouble and knocked down whatever came between your mission to save him. He always knew about your ambition to become a pro hero. To you being a hero didn't come with ranks. A hero is a hero. No matter how many villains you defeat or civilians you save. It was about the intention you stride with. To make the world a better place and make people feel safe. Thats just what you did to him. You made his world a better place and you made him feel safer with every moment you spent by his side.

ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. He felt the distance that was coming between you with every second that passed. You sat beside him in class and every morning would bite his ear off with random words that came out your mouth to form sentences. He would never make sense of them though because he was busy watching you wave your hands around as you talked so passionately or watching your facial expressions as your judgement face would gossip about those around you. But everything stopped. He would walk into class and you would even look up from that stupid phone in your hand. Once he sat down beside you, you would whisper a sweet good morning without even making eye contact. He never replied but he needed to see your eyes. Have your eyes looking at him and making him feel safe. So one morning when you were busy, eyes glued to the device in your hand. He managed to grunt a quick hello before you. He watched your head flick up and whip around to watch him put his bag down and plop into his seat. Your smile made the apples on your cheek rise, head tilted you returned the phrase and went back onto your phone. He wanted to grab your chair and make you look at him directly and yell the top of his lungs about how you made him feel like an idiot but he chose not to. He chose to watch you scroll on your phone and occasionally aggressively type a few words. Your own hand came up and tucked a few strands behind your ear, something he always wanted to do. This gave him a clear view of your side profile. He noticed your bottom lips in between your teeth and how your brows would furrow when you got confused about something. This became a routine. Every morning he would come into class and greet you then lay his head on his hand and sit there staring at you until Aizawa came in. It was hard not to notice the hot head beside you boring into your soul but you chose to ignore it. Not wanting to cause anymore pain.

ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ, ᵇᵃᵇᵉ. To your surprise it was an emotion the two of you had in common. It was the first day that Bakugo had walked into class and noticed a huge circle of students around your desk. He stopped in his tracks. Only the worst coming to mind. He pushed past the crowd to see about a dozen of gift bags addressed to each student in the class. The students felt it was best to wait till a grown up came and explained what was going on. He sat in his own desk beside yours. His head turned to the bags and one caught his eye. It had his name written in that crazy font of your own handwriting. He would always get mad at you because he never could understand what you wrote. When Aizawa had entered the class with the principle he knew something had gone wrong. The class was told about you. How you just picked up and left without even looking at him properly for the last time. Apparently your parents thought it would be best to get you out of a dangerous place for your own safety. Bakugo scoffed. He could just imagine the fight you put up and the arguments you had to try and stay. He knew you.

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵉ ᶠˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ.

He went home that evening. With the stupid gift bag you left for everyone. Couldn't even make him feel special. Made him feel like everyone else. He sat in his room and looked at the sparkling red bag in front of him. He sighed before he took it in his lap and looked inside. A note, how convenient, along with a box, hand cream and a hoodie that you had taken from him a while back. As he pulled the items out a smell came along with it, your smell. He opened the box and took out a polaroid picture you put into it. It was a picture of him sitting at his desk in the classroom and you behind him with a smile he hadn't seen for weeks. Your arms were laced around his shoulders and your chin resting on his head. Which led him to look at himself. His usual normal scowl and eyebrows joined together in annoyance. He remembered Kirishima taking this picture a few days prior to the incident. He remembered the days he felt like a king, like a leader of the pack and now he felt like someone who needed to be protected. He turned the polaroid around to see your cursive writing spelling out '𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐸𝓍𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑀𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇' He looked back into the box and pulled out a black beaded bracelet, something that looked hand made. It had a gold charm of a crown in between two beads. Hence the king. He found himself huffing out laughs at how idiotic you are, or were. He put the bracelet on his wrist and looked at it. It felt like your tiny hand wrapped around his wrists. He remembered how that felt when you would grab him and drag him to your next class or to the library to study. Was he ever going to be able to have those moments again? His eyes fell upon the note.

“I’m sorry. for not letting you guys know before hand but I’m leaving or left when you have read this but I just wanted to tell you guys that i’m so grateful for every moment we have spent together and will forever remember you guys. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for not letting you know about this sooner but I wouldn’t be able to leave if i had. Thank you guys for being my friends and I wish you the best.”

He hated you even more now. You had typed this for everyone. He felt stupid for thinking you had somehow made his one special until he turned the note around. It was your handwriting. He never thought he would feel this happy to see your hand writing.

ℋℯ𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊ℊℴ, ℐ 𝒽ℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒹ℴ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁, 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒹ℴ𝓊𝒷𝓉𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ℐ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒽ℴℴ𝒹𝒾ℯ 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓇ℴ𝒷ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃ℊ. 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓈ℴ 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 yℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓇ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓉ℴ 𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂 ℐ 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓉ℴℴ. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 ℊ𝒾𝓇𝓁𝓈, ℐ 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒶ℊℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ ℊℯ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 ℴ𝓃ℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓁𝒾ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝓂ℯ𝓁𝓁. ℋℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒽ℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸ℯ𝓁ℯ𝓉. ℐ 𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝒸𝒽ℯℯ𝓈𝓎 ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ. ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓇𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 ℐ 𝓌ℴ𝓃'𝓉 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒻ℴ𝓇ℊℯ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℬℯ 𝓈𝒶𝒻ℯ 𝒦𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾.

ᴴᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ, ᶜᵒⁿˢᵒˡᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉ. You really wanted to believe you were doing this for him but really you were doing it for yourself. You were selfish. You thought over stepping on Bakugos boundaries was going to help you over come the constant nightmares you were having. About him being kidnapped and having him being taken away from you. You knew Bakugo was always like how he is. You heard stories from Midoriya and Kirishima would love to make you laugh with his embarrassing ones but nothing had seem to really bother you. You knew you liked him but when he got kidnapped it gave you a reality check. Having him being taken away made you realise You wouldn’t be able to live without him if it continued like this. He would eventually break your heart. Forgetting about everything you saved him anyway because you would do anything for love. When he returned you knew that he would need space and time to heal but each second that you would give him that space you would feel like he was being taken away again. You lost sleep over this silly thing and you needed to do something. So you went to his house and forced yourself to be around him. Whether it was at his home or in class and especially in training. You would go extra hard on him. You wanted him to physically hurt you as much as it emotionally hurt you to even think about being away from him. You wanted him to physically push you away. You wanted him to scream at you to leave him alone because if he didn't, you'd still be attaching yourself to him like a lost puppy. Thats why when your parents brought up the idea to move to some place safer you agreed straight away. You couldn't deal with this anymore. You need to stop being so selfish and giving bakugo such a hard time. You were well aware of how capable he is to take care of himself. You stopped going to his house because you didn't want his mother to get used to you. You slowly distanced from all your friends and spent more time into looking into the new city you were moving to. It was at least 4 hours away and apart of you was relieved because the longer you'd stay here the more of your heart would start to shatter.

ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ, ᵇᵃᵇᵉ.

Author's Note

inspiration by the song No one Noticed by the maria. i’ve been feeling the need to read more angst lately so here you go. should there be a part 2?

#bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader angst #angst #mha #bnha #no one noticed

119 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

Text

Bankruptcy is very, very good

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

There's a truly comforting sociopathy snuggled inside capitalism ideology: if markets are systems for identifying and rewarding virtue, ability and value, then anyone who's failing in the system is actually unworthy, not unlucky; and that means the winners are not just lucky (and certainly not merely selfish), but actually the best and they owe nothing to their social inferiors apart from what their own charitable impulses dictate.

It's an economic wrapper around the old theological doctrine of providence, whereby God shows you whom he favors by giving them wealth and station, and marks out the wicked by miring them in poverty. And like the religious belief in providence, the capitalist belief in meritocracy is essential to resolving cognitive dissonance: it lets the fed winners feel morally justified in stepping over the starving losers.

The debate over merit and luck has been with us for millennia, and even the hereditary absolute monarchs of the Bronze Age had to find a way to resolve it. For the rulers of antiquity, the way to square that circle was jubilee.

Bronze Age jubilees were periodic celebrations in which all debts were canceled. Different kingdoms had different schedules for jubilees, but imagine some mix of "every x years" and "every time a new ruler takes the throne" and "every time something really portentous happens." To modern sensibilities, the idea that we would simply wipe away all debts every now and again is almost inconceivable. Why would any society practice jubilee? More importantly, how could a ruler get the wealthy creditor class to countenance a jubilee, rather than seeking a revolutionary overthrow?

The best answers to this question can be found in the scholarship of historian Michael Hudson, who has written extensively on the subject. Hudson doesn't just write for a scholarly audience, he's also a fantastic communicator with a real commitment to bringing his research to lay audiences:

https://michael-hudson.com/

Hudson's most famous saying is "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid." It's in this dense little nugget that we can find the answer the the riddle of jubilee:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#debt

Let's start with a simple model of debt and credit in an agricultural society. In agricultural societies, everything exists downstream of farming, which is the core activity of the civilization. If the farmers succeed, everyone can eat, and that means they can do all the other things, all the not-farming work of your society.

To farm successfully, you need credit. Farmers enter the growing season in need of inputs: seed, fertilizer, labor; they need still more labor during the harvest. Without some way to acquire these inputs before the farmer has a crop that can pay for them, there can be no crop.

No wonder, then, that the earliest "money" we have a record of is ancient Babylonian credit ledgers that record the debts of farmers who borrow against the next crop to pay for the materials and labor they'll need to grow it. Debt, not barter, is the true origin of money. The fairy tale that coin money arose spontaneously to help bartering marketgoers facilitate trade has no historical evidence, while Babylonian ledgers can be seen in person in museums all over the world.

Farming requires an enormous amount of skill, but even the most skillful farmer is a prisoner of luck. No matter how good you are at farming, no matter how hard you work, no matter how carefully you plan, you can still lose a harvest to blight, drought, storms or vermin.

So over time, every farmer loses a crop. When that happens, the farmer can't pay off their debts and must roll them over and pay them off with future harvests. That means that over time, the share of each harvest the farmer has claim to goes down. Thanks to compounding interest, no bumper crop can erase the debts of the bad harvests.

That means that, over time, "farmer" becomes a synonym for "debtor." Farmers' productive output is increasingly claimed by the rich and powerful. No matter how badly everyone needs food, the whims of the hereditary creditor class come to dictate the country's agricultural priorities. More ornamental flowers for the tables of the wealthy, fewer staple crops for the masses. "Creditor" and "debtor" no longer describe economic relations – they become hereditary castes.

That's where jubilee comes in. Without some way to interrupt this cycle of spiraling debt, society becomes so destabilized that the system collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

In other words: debts that can't be paid, won't be paid. Either you wipe away the farmers' debts to the creditor class, or your society collapses, and with it, the political relations that made those debts payable.

Jubilee is long gone, but that doesn't mean that debts that can't be paid will get paid. Modern society has filled the jubilee gap with bankruptcy, a legal process for shriving a debtor of their debts.

Bankruptcy takes many forms. The most important split in bankruptcy types is between elite bankruptcy and the bankruptcy of the common person. The limited liability company was created to allow people with money to pool their funds to back corporations without being responsible for their debts. This "capital formation" is considered "efficient" by economists because it creates the backing for big, ambitious projects, from colonizing and extracting the wealth of distant lands (Hudson's Bay Company) to spinning up global manufacturing supply chains (Apple).

Limited liability means that companies can take on debt without exposing their investors to risks beyond their capital stake. If you buy $1,000 worth of Apple stock, that's all you stand to lose if Apple makes bad decisions. Apple may rack up billions in liabilities – say, by abusing its subcontractor workforce – but Apple's owners aren't on the hook for it.

Economists like this because it means that you can invest in Apple without having to be privy to its daily management decisions, which means that Apple can accumulate huge pools of capital, "lever them up" by borrowing even more, and then put all that money to work on R&D, product development, marketing, and, of course, "incentives" for key employees and managers.

But limited liability also does a lot of work in the political sphere. Once an individual crosses a certain wealth threshold, they become an LLC. Accountants and wealth managers and financial planners insist on this. For freelancers and other sole practitioners, the benefits of forming an LLC are modest – a few more tax write-offs and the ability to get a business credit-card with slightly superior perks.

But for the truly wealthy, transforming yourself into the "natural person" at the center of a vast pool of LLCs is essential because it allows you to accumulate and shed debts. You can secretly own rental properties and abuse your tenants, accumulate vast liabilities as local authorities pile fine upon fine, and then simply dispose of the LLC and its debts. Plan this gambit carefully enough and the debtor LLC will have no assets in its bankruptcy estate apart from the crumbling apartment building, and its most senior secured creditor will be another of your LLCs. This lets the slumlord move an apartment block from one pocket to another, leaving the debt behind.

For the corporate person, shedding debts through bankruptcy is an honorable practice. Far from being a source of shame, the well-timed, well-structured bankruptcy is just evidence of financial acumen. Think of the private equity looters who buy a company by borrowing against it, pay themselves a huge "special dividend," then wipe away the debt by taking the company bankrupt (which also lets them shed obligations to suppliers, workers, and especially, retirees and their pensions). As Trump (a serial bankrupt who has stiffed legions of contractors and creditors) would say, "That makes me smart."

The apotheosis of elite bankruptcy is found in massive corporate bankruptcies, in which a corporation kills and maims huge numbers of people, then maneuvers to get its case heard in one of three US federal courtrooms where specialist judges rubber-stamp "involuntary third-party releases" that wipe out the company's obligations to it victims for pennies on the dollar, while the company gets to keep billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#morally-bankrupt

This process was so flagrantly abused by companies like Johnson & Johnson (which spent years knowingly advising women to dust their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talc, creating an epidemic of grotesque and lethal genital cancers) that it is finally generating some scrutiny and pushback:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

But the precarious state of elite bankruptcies has more to do with the personal corruption of the small cabal of judges who run the system than public outrage over their rulings; like that one judge in Texas who was secretly fucking the lawyer whose clients he was also handing hundreds of millions of dollars to:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/16/texas-two-step/#david-jones

Certainly, we don't hear much about the "moral hazard" of allowing the Sackler opioid family to keep as much as ten billion dollars in the family's offshore accounts while walking away from the victims of their drug-pushing empire, no matter what bizarre tricks they deploy in pulling off the stunt:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

But when it comes to canceling the debts of normal people, the "moral hazard" is front and center. If you're a person who borrowed $79k in student loans, paid back $190k and still owe $236k, we can't cancel your debt, because of the message that would send to other people who want to (checks notes) get an education:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

The anti-jubilee side also wants us to think of the poor creditors: who would loan money to the next generation of students if student debt cancellation was a possibility? Of course, these are federally guaranteed loans, risk-free, free money for people who already have money, a kind of UBI for the people who need it least. The idea that this credit pool would dry up if you were limited to only collecting the debts that can be paid – rather than insisting that debts that can't be paid still be paid – elevates the hereditary creditor class to a kind of fragile, easily frightened, endangered species.

But the most powerful arguments against bankruptcy are rooted in the idea of providence. In an efficient market, anyone who goes bankrupt was necessarily reckless. They were entrusted with credit they weren't entitled to, because they lacked the intrinsic merit that would let them manage that credit wisely. Letting them walk away from their debts means that they will never learn from their mistakes, and that their fellow born-to-be-poors will learn the wrong thing from those debts: that there's an easy life in borrowing, spending, and discharging your debts in bankruptcy.

As it happens, this is an empirically testable proposition. If this view of personal bankruptcy as a personal failure is correct, then people who go bankrupt and live to borrow again should end up bankrupt again, too. On the other hand, if we accept the jubilee view – that debt is the result of accumulated misfortunes, often including the misfortune of birth into poor station – then bankruptcy represents a second chance with an opportunity to dodge misfortune.

In a new study from IZA Institute of Labor Economics's Gustaf Bruze, Alexander Kjær Hilsløv and Jonas Maibom, we get just such an empirical analysis. It's called "The Long-Run Effects of Individual Debt Relief," and it examines the lives of people for a full quarter-century after a bankruptcy:

https://docs.iza.org/dp17047.pdf

The study follows Danish bankruptcies following the introduction of continental Europe's first modern bankruptcy system, which Denmark instituted in 1984. Prior to that, the Danes – like most of Europe – did not allow for a discharge of personal debt through bankruptcy. Instead, a debtor who went bankrupt would be expected to have about 20% of their lifetime wages garnished to pay back their creditors, until the debts were repaid or they died (whichever came first).

After 1984, Denmark bankruptcy system imported features of US/UK/Commonwealth bankruptcy, including the ability to restructure and discharge your debts. Not everyone is eligible for this kind of bankruptcy: there's a bureaucratic system that verifies that people seeking bankruptcy discharge don't have a lot of assets that could go to their creditors.

But for the (un)lucky people who qualify for bankruptcy discharges, there's a fascinating natural experiment in which the fortunes of people who see debt relief can be compared to bankrupt people who couldn't get their debts wiped out.

It turns out that the Bronze Age has a thing or two to teach us. Here's the headline finding: people who discharge their debts in bankruptcy experience "a large increase in earned income, employment, assets, real estate, secured debt, home ownership, and wealth that persists for more than 25 years after a court ruling."

After people are given the benefits of bankruptcy, they are less likely to rely on public benefits. They get better jobs. Their families live better lives. Their creditors get some of their money back (which is all they can realistically expect, since "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid").

As Jason Kilborn writes for Credit Slips, "the benefits of debt relief are not only substantial but robust, as debtors learn their lesson (if there was one to learn) about managing their finances, and they capitalize (literally) on their fresh start."

Score one for the luck-based theory of wealth, and minus one for the providential meritocracy hypothesis.

Americans should take note of these findings. After all, Danes are insulated from the leading American cause of bankruptcy: medical debts. In America, breaking a bone or getting cancer or even kidney stone can wipe out a lifetime of hard work, careful planning and prudential spending. The US refuses to seriously grapple with this problem. The best we can come up with is the (welcome, but tiny) step of banning credit bureaux from trashing your credit score because of your medical debt:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2024/06/11/fact-sheet-vice-president-harris-announces-proposal-to-prohibit-medical-bills-from-being-included-on-credit-reports-and-calls-on-states-and-localities-to-take-further-actions-to-reduce-medical-debt/

Millennia ago, everyone understood that debts that can't be paid, won't be paid, and they created a system for discharging debts and freeing productive people from the tyranny of accumulated liabilities, to the benefit of all. Dismantling that system required us to invent an elaborate theological system and dress it up in economic language.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/17/lovilee-jubilee/#debts-that-cant-be-paid-wont-be-paid

#pluralistic #debt #debts that cant be paid wont be paid #jubilee #denmark #great danes #bankruptcy #second chances #scholarship #economics #iza #Gustaf Bruze #Alexander Kjær Hilsløv #Jonas Maibom #michael hudson

323 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 7 months ago

Text

[ID: A screengrab of an app, with the heading "2024"; beneath the heading is an image of a grid decorated to look like a grassy field, covered with little digital plants such as trees, cacti, and toadstools. In the corner is a count of the plants, 117, and also the number one to indicate one real tree has been planted.]

Duolingo, for all its faults, has been really helpful for learning Italian, because it gamifies it exactly at the level I want. But it's also stalled in terms of what it can teach me; I've completed all the modules and it has started to become simply repetitive drilling. I decided I'd go off the paid subscription when the year is up, because I can do flashcards and translation on my own, and I wanted to find new ways to gamify that so that I would keep at it.

Enter Forest! When you want to focus on something, you open the app, set the amount of time you want to focus, and "plant" the timer. It basically locks your phone to a handful of apps (you can select which ones) so that you either have to focus outside of your phone, or focus on the apps you've allowed. If you successfully spend the entire time without "cancelling" the plant, it gets added to the grid. It also awards you coins which you can use to buy new kinds of plants, but slowly enough that you have to work a little for them. There's also a "friends" function where you can friend and compete with others, although I haven't explored that yet.

For me it's useful because it locks me out of stuff I shouldn't deal with while I'm studying, preventing me from, for example, feeling guilty that I haven't responded to a text immediately. It also gives me a little dopamine hit when my plant grows successfully, and unlike some other apps I looked at, once your plant has grown, you don't have to do anything further -- there's no maintenance, per se, which keeps it from getting overwhelming. It's primarily useful to me as a way of rewarding myself for doing something daily, which I will need once I'm not getting night owl chests and streak rewards from Duolingo. I've been on Forest long enough now that I know it'll work for me so I thought I'd recommend it.

Forest has a free version, but a lot of the features I wanted (custom tags, the ability to create a library of favorite settings, etc) were only in the paid version. That was a bummer until I looked at the cost of the paid version which was literally a one-time payment of $3. So I paid the $3 and honestly, more than worth it.

I use it for everything from locking me down while I'm doing my ADHD video game to timing how long I spend on writing and crafts to rewarding myself for doing my Italian lessons and breathing meditation.

#sam has adhd #sam learns italian

210 notes · View notes

drea-ms · 2 years ago

Text

★﹐冬のはなし．﹗﹑ KUSUO SAIKI

ミ★ ; "I rejected her." he said, his voice remaining stoic, "Why?" was all you said, tears welling up in your eyes, "Because I like you"

warnings. angst. happy ending. second lead!teruhashi. implied unrequited love. grammar errors

"Saiki, I really really like you." the blue haired girl said, waiting for him to answer the two words she wanted to hear him say; "oh wow." but that never came, not from him but from someone outside the classroom door, it was a surprise they didn't hear her, she assumed they focused on each other. She left before the pink haired boy said anything, going to text him that their cafe hangout would be canceled.

'smth came up sai, i'm srry." — seen

Right. You were guessing that kusuo and kokomis were hanging out at this point, it was no surprise that they would end up together, he'll even some of kokomis crazy fans thought so. Those two were meant to be soulmates, together in every universe.

While you were stuck as the second choice, like always. You wondered if you were to confess before the blue haired angel would everything stay the same? That instead of teruhashi confessing to saiki in that classroom, it was you? That he said yes to you, and not her. You hated how selfish you were thinking, though you were glad you and saiki gotten those matching rings that would stop his psychic abilities, he wouldn't know what you were thinking of.

It was late, and here you were still crying over the pink haired boy, something you hated. You looked at the ceiling, and starting thinking of every universe there was where the two of them would end up together. That's when you heard a notification from your phone;

You checked your phone to ignore the feeling of heartbreak. That was the plan until you saw a message pop up;

"Meet me at the park in 5" — sent from 'ku⁉️'

It was 3 AM at the moment, what would he want this late at—

'I'm not taking a no as an answer" — sent at 3:02 AM

Okay then, you were heading to the park, great.

Once you got ready, you headed out your window, making sure it was quiet so no one could hear you, after that you started head to the park where the pink boy would wait for you. That same feeling of heartbreak not leaving you as you headed to the place.

By the time you get there he was by the swings, swinging back and forth, you went up to him and smiled, he looked up at you and stood up, "We need to talk," he said, that same stoic face not leaving him, "About...?" "Teruhashi confessed that she liked me," "oh. congratulations on getting with her! you two were practically made for each oth—" "I didn't say yes, I rejected her."

your didn't know wether to feel bad for her or not, "Why?" "Because I don't like her" "okay... why are you telling me this?" "Because I saw you outside the classroom door," that's why, maybe he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea about because you always joke about that to him, "Right, Is tha—" "I also wanted to let you know that..." "That..?" "I know you like me, I knew from the start" ah. you thought you were being discreet about it, guess not. "Look. give me time, I'm trying to get over you. Just please— give me more time to get over you" you look up at him and tears begin to show up in your eyes.

The link haired boy looked at you and grabbed you by the cheek, he got near your eyes and wiped the tears that began falling out, "That's not what I meant." "Then what do you mean then?" "I need time to understand what I'm feeling for you, to make sure I'm not lying to you." was all he said, he turned to look the other way, hiding the fact that he's flustered, "And that means..." "It means we could be something more"

And on that night, snow began to fall from the sky on a nice December night.

And Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a dream.

NAO SPEAKS? i lob my silly little pink haired guy :(

#📞 — nwjn-z #the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki k #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader

2K notes · View notes

aplaceinme · 29 days ago

Text

For @leashybebes

Thank you so much for requesting this! I really hope you like it!! 💜💜

Song number 73 is “Wildfire” by SYML

“Tommy?” Buck asks, letting himself inside Tommy’s place.

They had given each other’s keys about a month ago in case of emergencies. It is also a way for them to get inside, and get comfortable while waiting for the other to come home from a shift. After all, it’s quite common for one of them to be late due to a call taking too long.

They weren’t supposed to meet tonight, but Buck is worried about Tommy. They have hardly texted today, which is weird for them since they are always exchanging texts during their shifts. Even if one of them is not working while the other is –a strange circumstance since they made sure to try to have the same shifts– they are still texting each other about random stuff. Except for today. That, together with the fact that yesterday Tommy canceled on him saying he had a migraine, has made Buck start spiralling with worry.

Buck has been trying to control his insecurities, to stop thinking that everyone will walk away from him, and since dating Tommy he has gotten better at that. Tommy has an uncanny ability to reassure Buck in different ways. He does it in the way he looks at him, with fondness and adoration, and how he is always quick to compliment Buck about anything and everything. It’s in the way he always keeps in mind the things that Buck likes and dislikes. In the way he always tries to touch him, and not even in a sexual way –though there is plenty of that of course– but in a loving way: a hand on the small of his back, an arm wrapped around his waist when walking, holding his hand whenever possible, cuddling him when watching a movie and in bed, and hugging him any chance he gets. It’s also in the way he listens attentively to Buck’s rambling, asking questions, and later remembering all the details. His love is present in practically every single thing Tommy does and says around Buck.

That’s why Buck’s sure that Tommy is not trying to ghost him, thinking of breaking up with him, needing a break from him, or anything like that. But something has happened, and Buck needs to know what so that he can help Tommy with whatever he might need.

“Tommy?” He asks again after not receiving an answer.

The entire place is quiet and dark. It’s such a contrast to how it usually is that Buck feels weird and his worry grows tenfold.

Turning on his phone flashlight Buck looks in the living room, Tommy’s office, and then the garage. After not finding him in any of those places, Buck goes upstairs and calls his name again.

As he nears the bedroom, he starts to hear some soft sniffling. Feeling his heart pounding in his chest and getting goosebumps all over, he carefully opens the bedroom door.

Tommy is lying on his side, facing away from the door and he is crying softly.

With his heart breaking into tiny pieces but also alarmed at what could be the cause of this, Buck approaches the bed, climbs into it and hugs Tommy from behind.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, startled and with a hoarse voice.

Tommy sits up quickly, dislodging Buck’s arms from around him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you,” Buck explains, carefully grabbing Tommy’s hands, which are aggressively wiping his tears away.

“I’m fine,” Tommy says, even though tears keep slowly falling from his eyes.

Buck gently wipes the tears away, and then cups Tommy’s cheeks. “You’re not, love. What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Shaking his head, Tommy replies, “No, no, if I tell you I will start to ugly cry again and I can’t… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a mess, and I’m not supposed to- It’s too much… You shouldn’t see me like this!” Tommy gestures at his face and the state he is in.

After taking a deep breath, Buck grabs one of Tommy's hands and entwines their fingers, giving it a little squeeze. “Listen closely to me, ok?”

As his lips tremble and his breathing shudders, Tommy nods hesitantly.

“Do you remember when the 118 got the call about a trailer truck tipping over and falling over someone? How that accident made me have flashbacks of being trapped under the fire engine?” Buck asks in a soothing voice.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak but Buck doesn’t let him say anything.

“Do you remember how much of a mess I was? How that night I dreamt that I had lost my leg so I woke up screaming and sobbing?”

Buck waits for Tommy to nod again before continuing, “And do you remember what you did? You comforted me. You hugged me while I sobbed, not caring that I was getting snot all over your shoulder and chest. And when I apologized and made the self-deprecating comment that I bet I looked like hell, you told me… do you remember what you told me?”

“That you looked beautiful,” Tommy whispers.

“Yeah, that’s what you said. And it’s the truth for you, too. There’s nothing that would make me think you’re not the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Buck says softly. “You were my rock then, let me be your rock now.”

Tommy sucks in a shuddering breath and buries his face into Evan’s neck, hugging him tight. His body shakes as sobs begin to erupt from his throat.

Buck swallows the lump in his throat and strokes Tommy’s back in soothing circles.

Eventually, Tommy tells him that it’s the death anniversary of Alex, the only friend he made during his time in the Air Force. He confesses that he had almost forgotten about it, his mind not registering the date, and how guilty he feels about it.

Buck holds him and lets him talk about his friend, not interrupting once. Tommy tells him about how Alex was also a closeted soldier, and how they understood each other from the start, becoming thick as thieves. In many ways, Alex had been like the brother Tommy never had. On that fateful day, Alex had requested to go on a dangerous mission instead of Tommy and that was the last time Tommy saw him alive.

When Tommy falls asleep in his arms, exhausted, Buck keeps holding onto him, and silently thanks Alex for saving Tommy’s life.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinley

107 notes · View notes

trustmypoison · 28 days ago

Text

Orbit - Act One

Y/N has a little problem and it’s that she’s literally never alone. She hasn’t known what a little peace and quiet is for nearly a decade. When her therapist suggests a wellness retreat, she expects to be bored to death and just maybe learn to like meditation a little bit. She does not expect to meet someone that she has an insane connection with. Too bad it might be too good to be true.

You can find the masterlist here.

Genre: medium au, a hint of soulmate au, heavy on the angst

Pairing: Minghao x reader (featuring therapist!Jeonghan, best friend!Junhui, and ghost!Vernon, with a tiny bit of coworker!Seungkwan)

TW/CW: *deep breath* a lot of discussion of death and moving on (or not) afterwards, grief, trauma (specifically regarding a car accident), therapy, meditation, hypnosis, sleep disturbances, psychic abilities, discussion of mental illness and treatments, and explicit smut. MDNI.

There are some difficult topics in this story and they are handled as delicately as possible, but proceed with caution if anything here might be upsetting.

Word count: 13k

The headphones aren’t working today.

They’re charged. You made sure of it before you left your apartment today. They’re also connected. You can hear the music just fine. However, you can hear everything else. So much for noise canceling, you think, huffing as you crank the volume.

The subway is busy this morning. It was your mistake, really. You usually catch the earlier pickup on this line, but you’re running late and so is everyone else it seems. Some passengers sleepily doze off. The man across from you has his face hiding behind a newspaper but you can tell his head keeps dipping and then sharply snapping back up.

Next to you, there’s a chatty group of teenagers, seemingly on the way to school from the looks of their uniforms. You’re only in your late 20s, but you can’t fathom having the energy they have at 7:30 in the morning without a single drop of caffeine. They chat animatedly. One slides a skateboard back and forth under his feet while he’s seated, and it bumps into your boot on occasion, not that he notices. The one standing to face them is probably only doing that because he’s gesticulating wildly as he tells a story. The punchline must be good because it brings the others to riotous laughter that earns glares from sleepy passengers, including the old guy eyeing them disapprovingly over his newspaper. You aren’t even annoyed by them, honestly.

It’s actually the Joseon era soldier next to you that’s annoying you. You swallow another sigh when he pokes you for the dozenth time since sitting down. Noise cancelling headphones can’t do much about a ghost trying to speak directly into your mind. Apple, Bose, Sony, Raycon, Beats, as well as a ton of lesser known brands - not a single one of them could truly help you with that and you’d tried them all.

You do your best to not show any reaction to the next jab of his boney finger in your arm. You’ve found it’s better this way. Most of them eventually go away. If you give any indication that you can hear or see them, they may never leave. That’s how you’ve acquired a few stragglers over the years.

This guy is persistent, though. Some of them have a good sense that you can see them, no matter how good your poker face is. “I know you can hear me,” he prods again. You don’t so much as blink, years of practice having prepared you for this painfully long ride to work.

Blessedly, the tin can you’re zooming in squeaks to a stop and you’re the first one to stand and get to the door. You don’t know if the soldier follows you, and you don’t look back lest you give away that you could see him. Life is much easier when you don’t give such a secret away.

The walk to your office building is short, only a few blocks and you make it just in time. Seungkwan raises an eyebrow from his desk. “You were almost late,” he says, like you don’t know. You have a love-hate relationship with him. He’s been your teammate for years now and neither of you sugar coat your conversations anymore.

“Almost. Cut me some slack,” you huff, tossing off your coat and grabbing your laptop from your bag. Seungkwan stands to meet you, since you both are starting the day with a meeting.

“I don’t cut anyone slack,” Seungkwan snorts. Though you can tell he’s just giving you a hard time, you give a look that must be a little sobering. “Rough morning?” He asks with a tiny bit of sympathy.

“Something like that,” you mumble, stepping into the elevator. “Let’s get this over with so I can have some coffee.”

You weren’t always like this. Until the age of 19, you were perfectly normal. You weren’t super outgoing, but you had a number of friends despite your spells of shyness. You had hobbies and played sports and were a good student. ‘Well adjusted’, is what your therapist called it when you had described all of this.

Then, there was the accident. You can’t think about it much. When you told your therapist, Jeonghan, that, he had just raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s hard to think about?”

His question wasn’t unkind, but you’d not grown used to his somewhat blunt technique in therapy yet, so it made you feel defensive. “No, because I literally don’t remember it. There’s a blank space of time from when I was driving and everything was fine to when I woke up in the hospital. Everything was normal, and then suddenly it wasn’t.”

Jeonghan had pursed his lips thoughtfully, drumming his pen on his notebook every now and then. “Do you lose spaces of time like that often?”

You’d sucked in a breath, trying to stifle the panic crawling up your throat. You didn’t want to be here anyway, didn’t truly believe in the power of therapy at the time and felt like this was a waste of time and money. You didn’t want him to scribble down a bunch of notes like a death sentence, or tell you you’re crazy and prescribe mind-numbing medication for you, or, if you were really honest about the things you had been experiencing, send you to a psych ward for an involuntary hold. You know you’d sound crazy and you didn’t know how quickly and severely Jeonghan would react to it. He was relatively new to practicing as a therapist at the time, but he was sharp.

So you’d shrugged, swallowing the panic and said, “Occasionally, but nothing like the accident.”

Jeonghan had, thankfully, just nodded and not clicked his pen to write anything. He changed the subject and you’d been thankful to hang onto your secret for a while longer.

The accident itself was straightforward, though you can’t remember it. At least, that’s what everyone told you. Your parents, the police, the nurses and doctors. All of them said it was just a tragic accident. You were driving home from college for winter break, your sedan packed to the brim with luggage for the month you’d be home, as well as presents, already wrapped with bows neatly tied around them. It was late at night and the road was coated in a full sheet of snow and maybe even a little bit of ice. Ultimately, it was the other car that slid first, according to police, but it doesn’t matter because it could have just as easily been you. Both cars ended up in a ditch and there were injuries on both sides. You heard there was also a death associated with the accident, but no information was ever released about the specifics.

But, devastating as all of that was, it was really the least of your worries. One minute you were driving with music blasting and another minute you were waking up, blinking up at the speckled tile ceiling of your hospital room. Your parents were frantic, asking you how you felt and what you needed. You remember feeling dazed as you try to make your eyes focus because nothing makes sense. Not the light because it was dark the last time you remember, not your parents’ panicked eyes, not the multiple IVs in your arm and the ache in your body, and not the old woman in a hospital gown standing just inside your open door.

You remember she looked sad, which is perhaps not an unusual thing for a hospital, but you remember tilting your sore head while you looked at her, ignoring the prodding and soothing that your parents were doing. She wasn’t asking for help. She didn’t look lost, exactly. Your eyes widen when a nurse walks in and totally ignores her, even though it seemed to you that she practically bumped into her as she breezed in. The nurse approaches you with a sweet smile, asking you how you are.

You remember narrowing your eyes at the nurse, anger simmering because the woman obviously needed something and it was rude to ignore her. “You should help her first,” you say, pointing to the old woman. The old woman shakes her head at you, and you start to understand why when your parents and the nurse turn and glance around the room, before looking back at you, confused.

“Who, sweetie?” Your father asks gently.

“The woman, right there,” you say, pointing to the figure.

Your parents look between each other, concerned, but the nurse shakes her head gently with a smile. “It’s probably the morphine. This happens all the time.” The nurse starts peppering you with questions. How do you feel? What hurts and how much does it hurt on a scale of one to ten? You answer all of these questions with a dry mouth because the old woman is still standing in the edge of the room, watching. She’s still there when the nurse gives you another dose of morphine and you eventually doze off again.

And it wasn’t just that one old woman. There were no less than ten mysterious visitors in just a few days in the hospital. You tried to talk to some of them, and some talked back, but most moved through the hospital aimlessly. You saw them in your room, much like the old woman. You saw them when you went for a walk around the floor. You saw them when you were wheeled down to the basement for an X-ray. You saw them on your way out to the car after you were discharged. Your parents would regularly ask you what you were looking at, like they didn’t see them too. And of course they didn’t. You just hadn’t come to terms with that so soon, head still cloudy from all of it.

After that, you were never really alone. Not really, anyway. Not even in your dreams could you be by yourself. You had to take a couple semesters off of school just to get a grasp on this new reality - to be able to sort out who was alive around you and what wasn’t. Or what emotions were yours and what wasn’t. Or what physical pain was yours and what wasn’t. There was often no rhyme or reason to it and you coped by yourself for the most part. You stopped mentioning things to your parents out of fear of worrying them, because you knew somewhere deep down in your soul that no doctor they took you to could really help. You kind of thought that not even a psych ward could save you. When you went back to school, you were antisocial, if only because you could never quite be sure that the person that was talking to you was alive.

That antisocial behavior carried into every other part of your life too, which is why, last year, your parents encouraged you to try therapy. They said it was okay to have a tight knit group of friends, but that a single friend wasn’t quite what they had in mind when they said that. Not that they didn’t love Junhui, but even they were aware that Junhui was only around still because he had the patience of a saint, despite your apparent 180 in personality. They thought you’d been flirting with depression or perhaps some other disorder that was causing this antisocial behavior.

You couldn’t tell them that you had a couple other friends too throughout the years, mostly because they were dead. So you took their suggestion and made an appointment, if only to be able to say you’d given it a shot.

You drag into Jeonghan’s office, plopping down on his couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to your body. He calls this your defensive position, and maybe it is, but you tell him that he should decorate his office so it doesn’t feel so cold. Then maybe you wouldn’t be so defensive.

Jeonghan gives you a wry smile over his computer monitor. “One minute,” he says. Jeonghan is not your typical therapist by a long shot, which is the only reason you still keep your weekly appointment. He doesn’t do the stuffy button down shirts, or the glasses he can peer over at you, or the ‘how does that make you feel’ bullshit. He wears jeans and a baggy t-shirt or hoodie every day, only wears glasses as a fashion statement, and just straight up tells you how he thinks you feel, encouraging you to correct him. You never thought you’d threaten to throw hands at a therapist, but you also never thought that a therapist would laugh when you said such a thing.

Jeonghan grabs his notebook and pen, plopping down into the couch opposite you. “So, how’s it going?” He says casually.

You shrug. “Okay, business as usual really.”

He nods but you can tell by the way his eyes sharpen that he doesn’t believe you and wants to be convinced. You see that look regularly from him. “Tell me about it. How was work? What’d you do this weekend? All that stuff.”

You sigh, because this is the part of therapy that you especially hate - the chit chat. “Fine. Just meetings and working on some projects. Nothing exciting. And this weekend, I ended up hanging out with Junhui.”

Jeonghan nods. “Good,” he says, mostly because he’s probably glad you didn’t self-isolate the moment you got off work on Friday. “What did you and Junhui do?”

“Just ordered dinner, watched some movies.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “What happened to going out this weekend? I thought we agreed.”

You raise a hand in defense. “That was all Jun’s idea! Not mine!” You had agreed to make an attempt to go out somewhere this weekend, just to get out of the house. But Jun had just shown up and made himself comfortable on your couch, and the night seemed to be decided. Could you have mentioned that you should go out? Yes, and Jun would have done it in a heartbeat. But you didn’t because you just didn’t want to.

Jeonghan adopts a smirk. “You’re feisty today. Tell me why.” You groan because you hate when he says that, but he’s waving you off. “Have you been eating like normal?” You nod. “Have you had any stressors, more than normal?” You shake your head. “Have you been sleeping?” You stall out before you can think of a good lie and your silence is deafening. Jeonghan’s smirk deepens. “Gotcha!” His smirk clears though and he’s serious. “What’s been going on there?”

You shrug, defeated. “The usual? Can’t fall asleep, can’t stay asleep.”

“Thoughts are too loud,” he muses, because he’s heard the excuse before from you. “What were you toiling over?” You don’t know what to say, so you purse your lips, blinking at him. Jeonghan lets a few beats pass and then sighs, putting his pen down and looking at his watch. “This is an early shut down, even for you.” Jeonghan stares at you for a second and this might be the first time that you’ve ever seen him hesitate to say something. Finally he says, “You know, you get out of therapy what you put in. If you don’t give me anything to work with, I can’t help you untangle anything. So what makes you constantly bite your tongue here?”

You snort humorlessly, because you can’t help it really. “I don’t know. You calling me crazy. You giving me medication. You sending me to the psych ward.”

Jeonghan blinks a few times and then puts his notepad and pen aside - a sign that this part of the conversation is sort of ‘off the record’. “I would not call you crazy, ever. It’s an unprofessional term in my career path. I can’t prescribe medications since I’m not a psychiatrist, so all I can do is refer you. And the only thing that warrants a visit to the psych ward is if you might be a danger to yourself or others, in which case I’d encourage you to ask for help.”

You blink at him, looking for any signs of deception but there are none. He looks incredibly patient and serious. He doesn’t even have a snarky reminder that the clock (and your bill) is ticking.

You think about how your parents worry about you. How Jun tries to ease you into social situations every chance he gets. How you don’t spend as much time speaking to living people as you should because you’re too busy trying to ignore non-living people. How you can tell that you come off as rude all the time, and it stings when someone says something about it because you truly don’t know how else to be. You wet your lips even though it doesn’t really help because your mouth has gone dry. You want a fix and Jeonghan is offering to help.

You squeeze your eyes closed as your mouth moves before you really know what you’re going to say. “Not to quote a movie from the 90s, but I see dead people.”

There are a few long beats of silence. You open your eyes to see Jeonghan’s widen slightly as he nods. A slow smile comes across his face. “Now, that’s something I haven’t heard before here.”

You raise a finger at him, pointing angrily. “I swear to god, Yoon Jeonghan, if you have me committed, I’ll be so mad.”

He nods with a smile at your threat, settling deeper into his chair. “No need for any of that. I can’t ask for a seance in the psych ward.” You screech and pelt the pillow at him. He deflects it, letting it roll into the floor, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine, sorry! Start from the beginning.”

And you do, or you try to anyway. He lets the timer run over and cancels his next appointment, saying that a breakthrough like this is worth it.

You’ve barely been asleep for an hour and you hear a little ‘pssst’ in your ear. Your eyes squint tightly, willing yourself not to respond. A little poke on your shoulder accompanies the next ‘pssst’. You sigh and hear the person chuckle. “I know you’re awake.”

You roll so your face is buried into the pillow, grumbling. “You are the most annoying dead person I think I’ve ever met.”

“I prefer the term ‘lost soul’. ‘Dead person’ sounds so serious,” Vernon says, plopping down to lay across the foot of your bed.

“I just got to sleep, you asshole,” you huff, curling up tighter into the blanket.

“You weren’t sleeping,” Vernon said simply. “You were working again.”

You sigh into your pillow. You’re working all the time, it seems.

You met Vernon in the hospital - surgery gone wrong, he said. But he got curious after he’d seen you getting wheeled out of the hospital to the car and tested it out himself. He found that he could leave the hospital, unlike a lot of other souls apparently, and didn’t like the term ‘dead’ very much if only because in a lot of ways, he’d kept on living life. He rode the subway often. He poked around in record shops. He liked to hang out in cafes if only to smell the coffee, though he couldn’t exactly consume it anymore.

Oh, and he’d followed you home to your parents’ house after you were discharged. You’d hobbled into your room late at night to find him lounging on your bed. He’d looked up at you from the book he’d claimed from your bookshelf and said, “nice room.” And when you’d moved into your own place, he’d let himself in there too.

He wasn’t there all the time, naturally, what with the wandering he liked to do. But he’d drop in with regularity. Sometimes Junhui would be over, none the wiser that Vernon was sitting in the arm chair in the corner watching TV with them. If anyone was going to hang out forever like this, Vernon was a good one to have because he didn’t make your life hard. He didn’t confuse you in social settings. He didn’t knock things over to alarm others around you. And he did give you privacy to be by yourself - or for you to try to be by yourself, anyway.

One night, a couple months after your accident, you’d woken up with a start in the middle of the night and Vernon was looking at you from your desk, concerned, Netflix still playing quietly in the background. “I think you were moving people on in your sleep,” he explains. He said he was in some sort of limbo and couldn’t see it exactly, but he could feel it. He said it was like a line out of the door when you dozed off, waiting to ask your open, relaxed mind for help. “You need to lock that down or they’ll bleed you dry.”

But you were helpless to do that when you were asleep, so Vernon had taken to calling it ‘working’. Over the years, he’d started to wake you up when he felt that others were taking too much from you. You weren’t getting valuable rest either way, but when you were awake you could protect yourself.

Still, you grumbled some more into the pillow. ��My therapist told me to ignore you, you know?”

Vernon snorts. “You can ignore the others, but I’m special.” Vernon paused, quirking an eyebrow. “Since when did he know about your little gift?”

“Yesterday,” you sigh, rolling onto your back and propping up against the headboard. You’re resigned to not sleeping at this point, so you might as well look at Vernon while you talk.

“And he told you to ignore us?” Vernon asked curiously, looking at you from the foot of the bed.

You shrug. “For now. He’s going to do some research and see what techniques I can try. It’s not like I know anyone else that has this so-called gift that can give me advice. So, therapist it is.”

Vernon hums. “Gotta start somewhere, I guess. I’m glad you’re asking for help. I worry about you.”

You frown, because he’s said it before, and he’s not the only one. “I know. I just wish I could go back to what it was like before sometimes - when I was normal.”

Vernon seems to be thinking hard. “I don’t know. I’d like to think things happen for a reason.”

“But there’s no good reason.” Frustration bleeds into your words. “I got into an accident in the middle of a snow storm and now I’m some psychic freak that can’t determine what’s real and what’s not most of the time.”

Your foot gets tugged sharply. “Stop talking about yourself like that,” Vernon scolds. “Besides, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s not ‘real or not’. It’s ‘seen and unseen’. You just happen to see a lot more than the average person.”

Your eyes prick with tears and you throw the blanket over your head. Jeonghan calls you a professional bottler. You don’t like to react with emotion to much of anything because if you let something trickle out it will become a flood when the dam breaks. It feels like there would be no way to turn off the flow once you start to let it drip. Vernon has seen enough of your struggles so you don’t want to burden him with it tonight. Still, he pats your foot a few times in a ‘there, there’ motion, like he knows.

From underneath the blanket, you sniffle. “Are you sleeping down there tonight?”

Vernon takes the hint and you feel the bed dip next to you. He stays on his side like always, never encroaching on your space or making you uncomfortable. You wish you could be alone, but if you have to be with someone, Vernon is a good person to be with. He lets you doze off and only wakes you up one more time throughout the night when the line out of the door gets out of hand.

“This isn’t working,” you mumble sleepily.

“We’ve barely started,” Jeonghan says patiently from his chair. It’s been nearly two months since you’d finally told him your big secret, and he really had tried to hold up of his end of the bargain. He’d given you a laundry list of things to try, and urged to you to really put some effort in. His exact words for each instruction was, “Don’t half ass it, please.”

You have to admit, some of it you did half ass. The yoga and tai-chi bored you to death after only a couple sessions each. Jeonghan did refer you to a psychiatrist to discuss your sleep issues and this psychiatrist had provided some medication - which had been used a couple times and then stuffed into your medicine cabinet because you didn’t like how it made you feel. Journaling had been okay, at least in the beginning. You’d felt relieved to get the whole thing on the page at first, but the relief was short-lived and you hadn’t picked the notebook up in nearly a week.

Today’s experiment was meditation. Jeonghan had gone to a training for it and wanted to see if you’d respond at all to it. He turned the lights off, only a little sunshine peeking through the blinds, and had talked you into a ‘meditative state’. You’d snorted when he said that was the first step, but he pinned you with a look that said, ‘come on, work with me here’. So you’d laid down on the couch and closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing like he said. But, you were thinking that maybe you had only relaxed because it was dark and the couch was comfy and you were sleep deprived - aka nothing to do with his guided meditation.

“Tell me what you feel. Do a body scan.”

You feel your eyebrows pinch because his voice sounds soft and small and you don’t really know what he means by that. “What do you mean? Like physically, emotionally, mentally?”

“Any of it. What sticks out?” Jeonghan gently prompts.

You sigh. “I don’t know. It’s loud in here.” You’ve grown comfortable admitting things like that to Jeonghan because he’s really not treated you like you’re crazy a single time. When you make comments like that, he doesn’t look around or pause to see if he can hear it too.

“Sort through the noise, if you can. Get to you, not the others.” This frustrates you and you feel your body begin to tense up again. You haven’t been alone in your head since you were 19. You don’t know how to fucking sort through the noise. If you had, you would have already done it. “Y/N, breathe,” Jeonghan reminds. You follow the command, remembering that he’d asked you to trust the process. “Let’s focus on the physical for now. What do you feel? Pain, pressure, weakness, anything of the sort.”

Your eyebrows are pinched again because his voice is getting softer and you can’t figure out why. His office isn’t that big and you wonder why he’s whispering. Your mouth kind of moves before you realize it. “Neck hurts.”

“Is that you? Or is that someone else?” His voice is so quiet that you have to strain to hear it.

“Me, I think. It doesn’t feel like a… wound. Just an ache, like I slept on it wrong.”

“Okay,” he mumbles. “What about emotionally?”

“Confused,” you mumble. Jeonghan hums distantly, questioning your answer. “You sound really far away.”

There’s silence for a while and then finally, he says, “And mentally?”

Your breath catches, even in your relaxed state. It’s… quiet. Not silent because there’s still a low murmur, like there are people talking behind a closed door, but it’s so blissful that your eyes prick with tears behind your eyelids. Jeonghan calls your name again, asking for an answer. “Quiet.” You can hear your own voice for once and it sounds totally foreign to you. But you can hear it and it makes the tears pour.

You don’t realize that the light has clicked back on until Jeonghan shakes your shoulder lightly a few times. “Y/N, come back.”

It feels like you’re slamming back into your body and the rush of sound and sensation is overwhelming. You pop up and cover your ears with your hands. Jeonghan eases you to sit up, leaning your head between your knees. You’re a snotty, teary-eyed mess when you sit up. “What the fuck was that?” You don’t hear your own voice anymore, but you can tell it doesn’t come out right based on the scratch in your throat. Jeonghan silently hands you a wad of tissues from where he’s squatting next to you. “Jeonghan.” You press, wiping your nose.

Jeonghan looks pensive, maybe even a little bit anxious. It’s an unsettling sight to see on your therapist of all people. “This might be above my pay grade for now. But I have an idea and I need you to hear me out.”

You watch him stand, going to his desk and picking up a folded paper, handing it to you when he comes back. You sniffle, glancing up at him suspiciously when you take it. You open it and scoff, putting your head in your hand, crinkling the paper slightly in the other fist. “Why the fuck would I do that after what just happened?”

Jeonghan is sitting back down in his seat across from you, albeit on the edge of it, arms propped up on his knees. “I didn’t expect you to respond at all to meditation. A lot of people don’t, at least not the way you just did. If anything, most people get sleepy. But you… drifted.” He doesn’t seem to like that he doesn’t know how to describe it, like it doesn’t fit cleanly into any diagnostic criteria he’s familiar with. He nods to the paper. “Give it a shot. If you can’t get anything out of it, we go back to the drawing board.”

“Say you didn’t believe me until now,” you snap through the exhaustion, avoiding committing to the flyer in your hand.

“I didn’t. Not really, anyway,” he bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. He sighs like he’s hesitant to say anything more, but his exasperation is clear. “I was actually thinking about a schizophrenia diagnosis but wasn’t ready to mention it. You started presenting symptoms around the age that I’d expect - the voices, the visions, the breaks from time and reality. It was all checking out and I was starting to think the accident really didn’t have much to do with it. But that,” he points to where your head just was on the couch a few minutes ago, “was not schizophrenia. That was something they don’t teach in a psychology program. At least, not with any sort of seriousness. It’s all talk therapy for the most part.”

You hide your face in your hands - you did the moment he mentioned such a diagnosis. It’s not that you’d be ashamed per se because it would be nice to put a name to whatever this is, but you recognize the stigma around it if only because of how you responded to the suggestion. “I don’t want meds and I don’t want a psych ward,” you stress through gritted teeth. “And I’m not a danger to myself or others. But you probably think I’m crazy.”

“No, Y/N, I don’t think you’re crazy. You’re sound of mind in literally every other way,” Jeonghan insists sternly. “No meds if you don’t want them, and no psych ward unless something changes pretty dramatically. Just… humor me and let me research a few things while you’re gone, okay? I’m not giving up on you yet.”

You recognize that he’s teasing you, trying to get you to laugh, but you can’t find it in yourself to crack a smile when the timer goes off and you grab your things. “Don’t cancel on me,” he calls as you leave the office, but you think he might kind of mean it.

You land in Jeju at approximately 4pm a week and a half later. You can’t really believe you’ve agreed to do this, but the plane tickets had been purchased and the hotel had been booked, and you didn’t have a good reason not to hear Jeonghan out. You’d left his office a week and a half ago, totally shaken, tossing the wrinkled flyer onto the kitchen counter when you got home.

But Junhui had come over that night, somehow sensing that you might need some company when he called. He’d been throwing out the takeout boxes after dinner when he came across the flyer. “A wellness retreat?” He asked quizzically, peering out of the kitchen.

You’d grumbled from the couch. “Yeah, my therapist thinks I should give it a shot.”

Junhui had come back to the living room with the flyer, reading over it. Then he shrugged, tossing it onto your coffee table. “Maybe you should. Might end up being lame, but it’s worth a try, right?” You’d huffed when you talked to Vernon the next night and he’d said pretty much the same thing.

So, you’d taken off of work for the week, booked your travel and lodgings, and started packing. And you felt so stupid about it as you walked into the ocean side resort. You always felt like this kind of stuff was such woo-woo bullshit that you couldn’t take it seriously. But here you are, stuck here having paid for the retreat for the next week. It would cost an arm and a leg to change your flight back home if this turned out as badly as you thought it would. When you whined about this on the way to the airport, Jun had shrugged about that too, telling you to enjoy the beach while you were there then. It was a vacation either way.

So, you checked into your hotel and crashed for the night. There was great irony in the fact that such a spiritualist event would be hosted at a haunted hotel, because it certainly was that. You got very little sleep. Maybe it was because you were ‘working’, but Vernon wasn’t here to wake you up and tell you. He wasn’t sure how far he could ‘travel’ and you didn’t dare ask. He liked his daily habits too much anyway to follow you here.

Early the next morning, you drag out of bed, pulling on some comfortable clothes. The kickoff for this retreat was early, starting with a guided meditation on the beach at sunrise. You’d snorted at the thought back home, but the air was kind of nice when you stepped out on the beach in the dark. Others were already there, some congregating, while some claimed a spot for the meditation starting in a few minutes. You found space in the back, if only to ensure that you could sneak away if you felt like it.

The instructor was a frail woman, a total hippie with an airy, zen-like voice that made your eye twitch. She started the guided meditation with things like ‘settle in’ and ‘feel the waves wash over you’. You roll your eyes behind your eyelids, simply trying to sit still for the next twenty minutes. When the instructor releases everyone and tells them to take their time, you’re the first one up, brushing off the sand. You hear a soft laugh from beside you.

“Didn’t like this meditation?”

You blink. The man next to you is cast in low light since the sun has only started to rise and it’s entirely unfair how ethereal he looks when he smiles lightly up at you. You frown down at him where he’s still sitting. “Would it be offensive if I said no?”

He chuckles again, standing up. He’s taller than you now, and you crane your neck up rather than down to see him. He’s got a lean, muscular build, all angles that are crazy attractive. But the soft brown eyes are truly the killer. You want to laugh because how could you ever ‘clear your mind’ around a guy like this. Maybe that’s why the meditation didn’t work. “Maybe don’t say it in front of the instructor. She’s sort of an expert in the field. I’ve been to a few of her sessions before.”

“Oh,” you say lamely, glancing to the crowd that’s beginning to stand and congregate, hoping that no one overheard you.

He smiles warmly. “I’m Minghao.”

“Y/N. I take it you come to these often then?” It occurs to you how weird it is that you’re seeking out a conversation with this guy, because you haven’t done that in years. But he has this air about him that is sort of magnetic. You feel lame when that word crosses your mind, but you don’t have a better word for it and you’ll never utter any of that aloud anyway.

Minghao shrugs. “On occasion. Mostly, I practice by myself though.” He tilts his head when he gives you an amused look. “Am I wrong to guess you’re pretty new to this?”

You huffed out a laugh, crossing your arms. You aren’t sure if the defensive pose is because of how weird you feel about this conversation or that you’d left your sweater in your room. “What gave it away?”

“Well, you squirmed the whole time, and then jumped up as soon as she said she was done. It’s kind of a sign that it didn’t work for you.” The crowd is starting to move back to the hotel, and the sleepy vibe is gone, replaced by some excited chatter. You remember that very few people here are probably quite as skeptical as you are. Minghao watches you watch the crowd for a minute, before speaking up again. “Wanna have breakfast with me? It’s nice to have someone to chat with at these sort of things, since you spend so much time at things like this in your own head.”

You want to laugh, because you are never alone and could only dream of what that feels like now, but between that stupid magnetism that he has and the fact that it would be rude to turn his offer down, you nod. “Sure.” He gestures in an ‘after you’ sort of motion and you both trail behind the crowd into the hotel.

You both find a seat in the corner of the hotel restaurant and order. He doesn’t bat an eye when you don’t order the traditionally healthy stuff at a wellness retreat of all places. You’re even a little relieved when he simply asks for the same, ignoring the judging look from the fitness guru of a woman sitting at the table next to you two.

Once you both have some coffee in front of you, he gives you an entertained look. “So, can I ask why you came to a retreat like this if you don’t buy into any of it?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Who said I don’t believe in it?” He gives you a dry look that makes you scoff, even though you aren’t all that annoyed. “You’re right, I’m new to it. I’m just seeing if it’s something that will actually work for me.”

He hums, nodding between sips of coffee. “Any luck yet? Outside of this retreat, I mean.”

You resist squirming in your seat, thinking about Jeonghan’s little experiment last week. “Yes and no?”

Minghao nods, his smile turning wry. “You don’t like the small talk, huh?”

This makes you snort out a laugh, earning another glare from the woman at the table next to you both that you ignore. “No, I’m not great at it.”

“I can work with that,” he says simply. Behind him something catches your eye. A man trudges in, totally soaked. Your first thought is a mishap too close to the shore, because he’s dripping small puddles throughout the restaurant hall as he shuffles. But you quickly realize what you’re seeing and that no one else is seeing it. A waiter breezes right past the man and doesn’t so much as slip in the puddles he’s creating. You don’t feel anything from this guy exactly, but it’s not hard to figure it out. He’s dead, probably a drowning victim.

A hand waves in front of you and you snap to attention. Minghao’s face is some sort of mixture of confused and concerned. “Are you okay? What is it?”

You blink at him, trying to focus on him, rather than the man that’s still trudging through the hall and into the kitchen behind Minghao, leaving a trail of water behind him. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Minghao just looks at you curiously and the look is only broken when the waitress brings your food and offers more coffee.

Minghao becomes your guide for the day. Workshops start at 9am and when a staff member for the retreat hands out a flyer for today’s options at breakfast, you’re kind of surprised when Minghao asks what you want to do for the day. You must have looked confused because he just gives you a little entertained look and says, “unless you want to go on your own.” You didn’t. So you let him talk you through some of the options. Admittedly, you aren’t too impressed by the sound of any of them, but he correctly assumes you’re a beginner and picks some that he thinks will work for you.

9am is a lecture called ‘Getting out of your own way’. It’s another super zen instructor and you cross your arms and lean back in your seat when he starts. But by the end of it, you’re squirming because this feels like some kind of therapy shit that hits too close to home. You even feel a slice of anger sometimes because it’s not you that’s in your way - it’s everyone else, namely the dead. You can’t imagine how Jeonghan or anyone here would love to dissect such a blame-shifting, defensive response, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds. You regret coming by the time the session ends at 10:30.

The 11:15 session is called ‘Trust your intuition’. There’s a short lecture, but then there’s an experiment to do with the partner next to you at each table. Each pair is handed a deck of cards. Minghao shuffles them well and then slides the top card to you, face down. The rule is that you can’t peek, but you can touch the top of the card if you’d like. When Minghao slides the first one to you, you look at him incredulously and say “I’m not a mind reader.” You recognize that that’s not quite the truth, but you have no clue which card is sitting in front of you.

Minghao wears a sort of secretive smile, looking highly entertained. “It’s not meant to be a quiz to stress about. Just try it. Close your eyes and touch the top of the card.” When you don’t move, he nods again. “Humor me, Y/N. You don’t have to be good at it, just try it.”

You’d scoffed, closing your eyes and placing your finger tips on the card. Nothing comes to you so you sigh, throwing your other hand up in exasperation. “Jack of diamonds,” falls out of your mouth as a guess.

“Okay, turn it over,” Minghao says encouragingly. You expect to have picked quite literally any of the 51 other cards, but when you flip it over, a jack of diamonds greets you. You freeze, face pinched in confusion, because how in the fuck did you do that? Mingaho raises an eyebrow, a flash of excitement on his face. “How about another one?” Ten cards and ten correct guess later, you feel your eyes water from something akin to shock. Minghao must notice that you need a break and he slides you the deck. “My turn.”

After lunch, the 2pm session is ‘Facing your fears’. The hotel has allowed the retreat to take over the courtyard, setting up ropes and a climbing wall. You’d never been particularly afraid of heights and you’d once been quite athletic, so you breeze through this. So does Minghao, though you aren’t surprised based on his physique. You do your best not to focus on his arms or the way his shirtless back flexes when it’s his turn to climb. You aren’t one to be enamored by someone’s appearance like this often, so you squash the thought. He’s been nice, and patient more than most people ever try to be with you, but he does not need to know that you think anymore than that. You’ve known him for a whopping eight hours.

At 3:30, the session is actually a fair that has been set up in one of the event halls at the hotel. There are tons of booths for all kinds of metaphysical stuff. Crystals of all kinds, body products meant to relax and rejuvenate, incense, teas, tinctures, and ritual items. Minghao spends a long time looking at the teas, purchasing a number of them. You bite back the smile at how kid-like he is about it, eyes full of excitement when he has you smell one and tells you about it. You tease that he might as well be selling the tea himself.

You linger on a few items, all of which are labeled with the word ‘protection’. First, it was a set of crystals that are supposedly meant to clear negative energy. Then it was a box of incense labeled ‘spiritual protection’. Then there was an anointing oil labeled for protection magic.

Minghao watches you pick up each of these items, before putting them back and turn like you’re ready to go. You are ready to go because you’re truly so far out of your depth with any of this. You feel like you’re playing with fire, risking any of these things making your problems worse. On the third time, he doesn’t budge when you’re ready to leave the booth. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite decipher. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him that well, but you wonder if you could ever read a look like that because it’s so layered. “If you’re interested in protection, you should try out those things. At worst, they don’t do anything for you.”

The woman that runs this booth clears her throat behind him, like she’s offended at the implication that her wares don’t work. But Minghao still doesn’t budge and you look back down at the little bottle of anointing oil, picking it up and rolling it in your hand. This feels like another ‘trust the process’ moment and you can afford it, so after a few beats you decide to buy it. Minghao guides you back to the booths that had the crystal set and the incense so you can purchase those as well. You’re kind of relieved that he doesn’t ask why you’re interested in this sort of thing, though you wonder if that question might come before the retreat is over.

Dinner comes and goes, and then later that night, there is a campfire on the beach. You admittedly aren’t into the drumming circle that comes first, but you are very into the marshmallows that are handed out to make s’mores. You and Minghao make half a dozen together, one of you holding the graham crackers and chocolate and the other roasting the marshmallow. This earns a few more glares from some of the more hardcore attendees who sneer when the bag of marshmallows comes around to them. You’re discovering that Minghao isn’t fazed by much, and it’s an attitude that you can appreciate. You wish you could be like that.

You crawl into bed a little after 11pm and drift off.

Just after 2am, you slide open the door to your balcony. The view in front of you is dark, but you can hear and smell the waves, and the breeze is cool. You’ll need the sweater you brought out with you in a bit, but not right now while you’re dripping sweat.

Sometimes, when you’re ‘working’ in your sleep, you meet someone demanding. Most of the time, you don’t even remember or realize what you’re doing. There are no flashes of the supposed line out of the door to assist in moving on. No unfamiliar faces that you remember when you wake up.

But on occasion, someone is desperate to move on and you assume that their urgency wakes you up. Jeonghan says the clinical term is sleep paralysis. The mind wakes up before the body is released from its frozen state. Your eyes are open and you’re aware of what you’re seeing, but you can’t do anything about it. A lot of people experience it, apparently, but Jeonghan says that most of these things are hallucinations - a demon or an old hag hovering over you. Even Jeonghan admits now that your situation is a little different, because yours might not quite be a traditional hallucination. He was hesitant to call it something real, but doesn’t utter what you expect, which is the accusatory phrase, ‘you think it’s real’.

So naturally, seeing the drowned guy from earlier, hovering over you with panicked eyes made your heart beat out of your chest. You have no clue how long it really was, but it seemed like an eternity that you were frozen, watching him gasp for air and try to beg for help. But as it happens sometimes, the moment you’re released from your frozen state, the man is gone in a blink of an eye. You have no idea if you moved him on, or if he’s still lingering, desperate for help. These are the worst nights, and you know you won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. In fact, you can’t stay in bed for a second longer, least of all in the dark. Your first step after getting out of bed is to turn on all of the lights.

You settle in the wicker chair on the balcony, propping your feet up on the ottoman in front of you, breathing deeply. You’re frustrated. You’d hoped you’d show up to something like this and find all the answers to your questions. Maybe it was a high expectation, but a place like this should have had all of the solutions to your problems - after all, they’re the spiritual experts. You feel the frustrated tears flow, but you don’t bother wiping them away, just leaning your head back. Your eyes drift closed, though you aren’t the least bit tired right now, too wired from what happened a few minutes ago.

With your eyes closed, you miss the light in the neighboring room flicking on, but your head does snap up when a sliding door opens nearby. Footsteps echo on the balcony next to you and you rush to wipe your face. You’re not in the mood for conversation, least of all any questions, and you’re hoping that your neighbor just wants some peace and quiet like you.

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps again, this time to look to the neighboring balcony. Minghao is peering around, looking a little concerned. You didn’t know that he was your neighbor. He’d stayed back to talk to someone at the campfire hours ago, so you’d walked up to your room alone.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling your attention back.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Minghao stares at you for a few beats, like he’s trying to read your mind, before he finally says, “No, you didn’t. I was up reading.” He leans on the railing, looking you over. From this position, his arms have you sweating again and you feel stupid for it. You’ve never reacted to a man like this. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You laugh, and you wish it held even a little bit of humor. “No, it’s not very ‘wellness retreat’ of me to share what I’m thinking. It would most definitely kill the vibes. Don’t worry about it.”

Minghao shrugs, that flash of humor that he’d had all day on his face again. “I’d say a wellness retreat is kind of the perfect place for that. You know, healing and relaxation, all that jazz.” Still, he falls silent, sitting in his own wicker chair only six feet from you, separated by the railing of your balconies.

You have no idea how much time passes when you finally speak up. “How are you so good at all of this?”

You see him look at you through the railing. It’s a look that’s open and says a lot, but the problem is that you can’t really decipher any of it. “I’m not good at it,” he finally says. “I’m just open to it.” You look away from him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Please don’t take offense to this, but it seems like maybe you’re not open to it. You seem to resist a lot of it.”

“I have a lot of practice with that,” you muse, but your expression feels a little off when you look at him again. Like you don’t know how to just slap on a smile and let it go.

He nods understandingly. “It’s easy to deny. It’s much harder to just let it be. Painful, even.” He hesitates for a second then finally says, “what are you trying to ‘let it be’?”

You give him a rueful smile through the railing. “That’s a pretty soul-baring question.” He shrugs good-naturedly, looking at the dark view in front of you both, seemingly not expecting an answer. You follow his gaze. “It would make me sound crazy.”

“Try me.”

There’s something so painfully genuine and secure about his tone. When you look back at him through the railing, he’s already looking at you and his expression matches his tone. You feel ridiculous and maybe even a little naive when your eyes water because you can’t remember someone ever looking at you like that. You don’t let a lot of people in, especially total strangers. But there’s something about him that makes you want to start peeling back the layers that you hide behind. You may never see him again after this retreat, and that might be okay because being soul-baring is scary.

You start with the first layer, even though it’s a big one. “I see ghosts.”

The next morning starts at 7am. The recommended solo activity for this morning is reflection and journaling. You debate on skipping it because you’re running on just a few hours of sleep, but Minghao knocks on your door at 6:45am, urging you to get dressed and join him.

After you spilled your secret last night, Minghao had just nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. You’d blanched at his lack of reaction. “Why are being so casual about this?” You’d asked, anger flooding your voice.

But his easy tone had squashed any anger. “I kind of suspected something. There have been quite a few signs today.”

At around 4am, he’d sent you to bed to get a few hours of sleep, resolving that he’d help you get the most out of the rest of the retreat if you’d let him. You guess this was step one of letting him.

After a shower, Minghao lets you into his hotel room. He also appears to be freshly showered and you brush off any thoughts of how good he smells when you walk past him in the doorway. He gestures to the little table by the sliding glass door for you to have a seat. You do, watching him come back with mugs of hot water and tea bags. You recognize the smell when he hands it to you. It’s one of the kinds that he bought yesterday.

The rest of the hour passes in relative silence. You’ve filled pages by then, and when you come up for air you realize that your tea is cold and Minghao’s page is nearly blank, save for a couple things. “Not into journaling?”

He shrugged, smiling at you. “I do it every day. Some days there just isn’t much to write.” You finish the tea as not to waste it and go with him to breakfast.

Minghao doesn’t tell you what he has on tap for you today, simply telling you to trust him as he leads you out to the beach. You suppress a groan, following him to a couple mats that are placed in the back. He gives you an amused smile, like he knows you aren’t into this. He turns to you on his mat, and you begrudgingly do the same.

“You’re going to hear the typical ‘clear your mind’ mantras. Don’t bother.” You raise an eyebrow at him to continue. “You’re beyond being able to just clear your mind. Do the movements, sure. But focus on the breathing and finding your own voice. Learn to filter the noise. Once you can filter, you can try to tune them out.”

You’re frustrated by how simple he makes it sound and he must be able to tell. “Don’t try to be a perfectionist here. Just use the time to be by yourself.”

You feel the frustration fade, replaced by an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, but it has stupid tears pricking your eyes because not even Jeonghan or Vernon has matched this sort of understanding. If Minghao notices the emotion, he doesn’t say anything about it. When the yoga instructor shows up, you mindlessly follow along with what she says, more focused on trying to do what Minghao said. The filtering is… hard. You aren’t even sure what your voice sounds like.

You’re so focused on the task, that you must miss the end of the session. You’re in a child pose when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You snap up and the hand squeezes, curving around your shoulder maybe attempting to comfort you. Most of the crowd has dissipated, only a few people still lingering with the instructor. It’s not the time loss or the way that you’d ‘drifted’ as Jeonghan had described it that bothers you.

You look up at Minghao, totally aware at how vulnerable you probably look. It’s because everything is quiet. Not even a murmur, like there had been when you tried Jeonghan’s little experiment last week. It’s silent and it had only started when Minghao touched your shoulder. It’s like he pressed the mute button.

“Are you okay? Too much?” He asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“What?” You ask, feeling a little numb with shock.

Minghao reaches out to wipe your face, gentle fingers grazing your cheeks. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying. “Too much, got it.” He stands up, hands leaving you. The noise rushes back and you fold into yourself, forehead hitting the mat again. “Y/N?” His hand lands on your back and the mute button is hit again. It makes your breath catch. He’s rubbing your back lightly, crouched next to you when you come up again. You’re more prepared when his hand leaves you again and the rush of noise comes back. He stands, holding his hand out to help you up. He doesn’t drop it when you’re standing next to him. “Come on. We have a break until 11:15 and I think you need it.”

You needed more than the 45 minute break between sessions. He must sense that you need some privacy to deal with things so he guides you back up to his hotel room where he gives you cups of tea, one after another. He asks questions but they aren’t pressing. You’re relieved by that because you don’t know what to tell him. You just say something happened, but you aren’t sure what. With you being new to all this, it must be an acceptable answer.

You both skip the next session and take a long lunch, showing up for the 2pm session. This one is ‘Developing your own spiritual practices’. You look at the little flyer that the instructor hands out when you guys take a seat in the back row and then look up at Minghao helplessly, still feeling pretty raw from earlier. “I don’t think any of this will help me.”

“That’s fine,” he simply, voice like honey to you. “This is just to get some ideas. A lot of this is trial and error for everyone, not just you.”

You listen to this instructor with bated breath because you need solutions fast. The silence earlier was blissful in a way that makes you want to weep if you think about it for too long. You need to be able to shut it off like that anytime. Whatever Minghao has to do with it is a mystery, but he won’t be around forever - only for a few more days. You aren’t sure what to do with any of what the instructor says, but you make notes on the back of the flyer and pocket them for later to research.

The 4pm session is ‘emotional clearing’. You feel overwhelmed by the concept and it must show because Minghao places his hand on top of yours in your lap once you both are seated. The hush falls over your mind again. “Remember what I said. Just get some ideas.” You feel like you need this session more than anything else you’ve experienced at this retreat so far and you’re desperate to focus, so you impulsively grip Minghao’s hand when he starts to slip away into his own space again. He lets you, keeping his hand locked with yours for the whole session.

There’s a similar pattern to the next couple of days. He has you try swimming, which you aren’t a huge fan of and don’t find particularly relaxing, but he sticks with you. Reiki interests you more than you’d expect and you think about searching it out later when you’re back home. On the last full day of the retreat, you give Minghao an amused look when he walks you to a session for ‘Messages from above’. He just gives you an amused look back.

“Hear me out. I know yours aren’t exactly from above, but maybe you can get something out of this.”

And he’s right, you do get something out of it. Perhaps they aren’t tools to help you, but you do feel a little less crazy when you hear how many people in the room believe in their own abilities, and even appear confident in them. You come away not wanting to totally get rid of this little gift of yours, but maybe to one day control it.

After dinner, you both go on a walk along the beach. It’s borderline romantic in a way that makes you feel silly. Your nineteen year old self would have loved something like this. But the thing about Minghao is that he doesn’t let you feel silly for long. He’s just so… safe. You don’t feel like a freak with him. You feel human. You feel okay, even when he’s not touching you, which you’ve avoided for the most part since that morning yoga session and holding his hand during one of the lectures.

A lot of your time together passes in comfortable silence. You find that so few words are really necessary to understand each other. You’ve walked from one pier to the other now and are on your way back when you stop in your tracks. Minghao stops with you, looking in the direction that you are.

“What do you see?” Minghao asks. Your bottom lip trembles because he didn’t ask ‘what are you looking at’. The distinction is something that you can’t spend a lot of time on because what you’re seeing is… bad. It’s the man that you saw on your first morning here in the hotel restaurant. The same one that woke you up the other night. You must not have moved him on successfully because he’s there, struggling in the waves. He washes up and he’s still. You exhale hard at the sight. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a replay of death, but it makes your gut twist every time.

Minghao’s hand lands on your back and you can’t even blink when the man on the shore disappears like he might as well have gone up in a cloud of smoke. Your jaw drops a bit because that’s new. Usually, these horrible visions linger. “Y/N,” he says gently. You glance up to him, feeling a little devastated in a way that only this little ‘gift’ can do. The look he’s giving you is crushing in its own way too. It’s one full of sympathy without an ounce of patronization. He’s quiet for a long time. “Why don’t we go up for the night and settle in?”

You let him guide you by the hand up to your hotel room, where he lets you go in alone.

You’re up again, sitting out on the balcony at a little after 1am. Your bags are mostly packed to leave tomorrow - or today, rather. You aren’t totally surprised when the neighboring sliding door opens and Minghao steps out. He leans on the railing next to you, peering over. “I saw the light click on a while ago. Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you ever sleep?” You tease, looking up at him.

He raises an eyebrow. “I think I could ask you the same thing.” In the dim lighting, your mouth waters a bit looking at him. Given the location and weather, he’s abandoned a shirt a lot of the time, just like now. A pair of sweatpants hang low on his hips. You’re getting the full picture of the toned arms and chest, the abs and the tapered waist. It’s totally unfair because if he’s aware of how just looking at him drives you a little crazy, he doesn’t let on. His smile is fairly innocent. “Could I interest you in a cup of tea?”

Your time with someone like him is limited, what with a plane departure looming tomorrow afternoon. So you smile, standing up. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He lets you in, telling you to make yourself comfortable. But this time, he gestures to the bed instead of the table. The covers are rumpled like he’d attempted to sleep tonight. He makes the tea, handing you a mug and sitting on the other side of the bed. The TV is on some kind of late night cartoon that you watch blindly. The silence stretches but it’s not uncomfortable.

It’s almost 1:45 when you set the empty mug on the bedside table and curl your legs into your chest. “Y/N?” You look over and Minghao’s giving you that exposed look that you can’t decipher again. He takes a breath that is perhaps deeper than normal, like he’s steeling himself. “The other day, at the yoga session, what happened?”

You purse your lips, scanning his face. He’s so handsome, and has shown you more understanding than anyone else you’ve ever met, and… he’s really a total stranger. You just met him four days ago. This connection is scary, if only because it will be gone tomorrow afternoon. You lean your head back against the headboard and he tracks the movement carefully. No wonder he doesn’t really miss anything. “It’s hard to explain,” you find yourself whispering.

“Try me.”

You can’t tell him about the power he seems to have over you. You can’t depend on him. But you decide that you can tell him the rest. You bite your lip and see how his gaze dips down for a split second. It sends a little shock for your system to even consider that this attraction might be mutual. You realize he’s looking at your eyes again, waiting for an answer.

“It did something. It was hard and frustrating to start filtering. But… I think it started to work.”

He doesn’t respond right away but he doesn’t look surprised. He sort of looks like he’s battling with something. Finally, he must come to a decision. “That’s not quite what I meant, Y/N. I meant your reaction when I touched you.” You try to squash your reaction now, but his eyes drill into you and you’re sure he noticed how your eyes widened for a second. “I’m just… concerned that I did something wrong. The look on your face is something I’ll never forget, and I’m not sure if it was even a good or a bad thing. It’s been eating at me for days.”

Minghao lets you stare at him for a while and it feels kind of like falling of a cliff to answer him. But you can’t let him think he did anything wrong. Not when he’s given you moments of blissful silence. Your voice doesn’t sound quite right, even through the din in your head. “It was good. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looks a little relieved at your answer, shoulders relaxing a little bit. But then he’s battling with something again before speaking. “At the risk of sounding inappropriate, is it just that you liked when I touched you? Or was there something else?”

You feel your brows pinch together, frowning at him. “Does it matter?”

“I guess it does, so I know whether I should ask to kiss you.”

You feel your breath catch at his words. You scan him for any signs of bad intentions, but you find none. After all, you’ve already been in this room with him before. You’ve spent the last four days with him by your side from sun up to sun down, and a little bit after that too. And he’s asking for permission, giving you an opportunity to shut him down and go to your own room. You’ll both get on separate flights and go home and probably never see each other again.

“You can. Kiss me, I mean,” you blurt. A little smile creeps up on his face and he moves closer to you, hand meeting your cheek. Your eyes drift closed because of the silence his touch brings, and you feel his breath wash over your lips as he closes in.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, before his lips press to yours. They’re soft, light, lingering pecks at first, getting longer when you reach out to hold him close by his own cheek. A little swipe of his tongue at the seam of your lips makes you sigh, hand sliding into his hair. All of it is so soft that you barely feel it when he has you slide down to lay on your back in bed. You’re absolute putty in his hands as he hovers halfway over you, lips still advancing and retreating as his hand crawls up your shirt to lay flat against your stomach. Your hands are doing their own wandering over his bare chest and back, tight muscle underneath your finger tips.

He pulls away from your lips ever so slightly, hand tugging lightly on the hem of your shirt. “May I?” When you nod, he gently peels the fabric up over your head. You didn’t bother with a bra because you should have been sleeping, but you don’t have a split second to feel weird about that because his hand is grazing your breast lightly, then cupping it. You sigh at the feeling and it’s like you’re calling him back to you with the sound because his lips are back on yours again.

It feels like forever but also a blink of an eye when you’ve both lost all of your clothes and he’s gently spreading your legs to kneel between them. “Are you sure?” His tone is a sweet whisper and you think you can identify the look he’s been giving you all week. It’s soul-baring, like he has nothing to hide from you. So you nod, hoping your expression even comes close to his.

Minghao leans down, pressing soft kisses to your lips again as he runs the head of his cock into your folds. The feeling as you both hissing a bit. When he notches into your entrance and starts pushing in, you sigh, nails biting into his back. Once all the way in, he stays still, fully buried inside of you while he kisses you into oblivion. You kind of forget that the goal of this for most people would be sex because you think you’d let him stay like this forever. Between the warmth of his touch and the silence it brings, you feel like this rivals heaven.

When you both are breathless, he pulls back, propping up on his forearms over you. His hand grazes the top of your head softly. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You don’t know why you both are still whispering, but it just adds to the intimate air that you both have, like this is just for the both of you. You feel silly when you think that, because of course it is, but you can’t think long about it, because he’s just feeding this little bubble you both are in with kisses to your cheek.

“Want me to move?” You nod, his lips dancing along your cheek still. “Okay, baobei.” He pulls away, enough to reach for your legs that are spread wide. His fingers gently grip your ankles, pulling them to wrap around his lower back. Then he’s back down, hovering closely to kiss you as he slides out and slides back in with a gentle rock of his hips. The feeling has you whimpering against his lips and it seems to feed something for him. It’s not like you’re incredibly experienced, but something about being with him is so… softly passionate that it’s overwhelming. He’s barely moved or touched you and you feel like you’re already falling apart.

He backs away from your lips to look down at you as he picks up the pace and your eyes drift closed. His hand grazes the side of your face, long fingers combing into your hairline. “Look at me.” The command is still oddly sweet and you follow instructions. The look he’s giving you has your heart jumping out of your chest. You reach to grip his wrist and he simply intertwines your fingers together and rests your linked hands on the bed above your head.

The strokes get deeper and you feel something building. Tears prick your eyes because he’s still looking down at you like you’re the center of the universe. Like he didn’t just meet you four days ago. His other hand intertwines with your other hand and then both of your arms are above your head. You kind of feel like your surrendering to him in a way and you can’t imagine why you would ever say no to something like this because you haven’t even came yet and you know this will change your life in a way that sex shouldn’t.

Minghao’s hips move with just a little more force, and he hits a spot that has you seeing stars, jaw dropping. He groans softly above you, pressing a kiss to your cheek again. “You are heaven,” he sighs against your skin. You wonder if he said it wrong, that he meant that you felt like heaven, but you think he might have meant it the way he said it and it turns you to mush. The heat is building to something that makes you feel like you’ll burst into flames and your voice is weak when you say his name. His head pops up to look down at you again. “You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question and the fact that he just knows makes you keen. Like he knows all of your tells already, knows the ins and outs of your body already. “Look at me, baobei.”

You do and it only takes a few long seconds before the heat explodes, becoming unbearable. You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, fingers gripping his tightly, legs spasming around his waist. You hear a groan in your ear that makes the orgasm linger because you think you could hear him make that sound forever. It doesn’t take long before he’s jumping up, pulling out of you, and releasing across your stomach. You’re dazed, watching the whole thing, particularly the expression on his face, and the only thing anchoring you right now is his hand gripping your hip. Otherwise, you think you’d float away because you haven’t felt this light in nearly a decade.

When he comes down, his hand leaves your hip, grazing your thigh gently. The other hand is cleaned on the bed sheets before it lands on your cheek softly. He kisses you long and soft without a single care for the mess he’s laying across when he presses his body against you. “Okay?” He asks eventually when he pulls away. You nod and he pecks your lips one more time. “How about a shower?”

You feel clingy in that shower in a way that you’ve never been with anyone before. Not even as a naive teenager that was half in love with the first boy that gave you the tiniest bit of attention. He lets you cling under the warm water, rubbing your back gently and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You feel stupid for so many reasons.

You don’t know him. Not really, anyway. You don’t know his last name. You don’t know where he’s from or where he lives. You don’t know what he does for a living. And you feel stupid for knowing that you know none of that but that it doesn’t really matter. You can’t imagine ever feeling like this again. This connection is unparalleled, something that you’d only read about or seen on TV before. You’d laughed about those things, making fun of them, but now you dread the morning. You dread getting on a plane to go home somewhere that he won’t be.

You dread finding out that he doesn’t feel the connection that you do.

When the water starts to get chilly, Minghao urges you under the stream, washing your hair for you. You both wrap up the shower, drying off and pulling on clothes. It’s just past 4am when Minghao guides you back into bed, pulling you close. You lay across his chest, listening to his heartbeat under your ear. You feel the tears pour because you can actually hear it, paired with the sound of both of you breathing. Nothing else. He must feel the tears on his bare chest because he rubs your back until you fall into a dreamless sleep. You’re out cold when he kisses the top of your head and mumbles, “it’s okay, we’ll find each other again.”

#minghao #xu minghao #the8 #minghao x reader #xu Minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #smut

43 notes · View notes

moraxsthrone · 1 year ago

Text

⊹✧˚｡⋆ title — sir kaeya

⊹✧˚｡⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader

⊹✧˚｡⋆ wc — 5.7k

⊹✧˚｡⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜

surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.

so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture.

“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”

kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.

“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”

“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.

“me?”

you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.

“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.

“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”

as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.

“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.

you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.

“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.

he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,

“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”

the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.”

⊹✧˚｡⋆

the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar).

you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it.

the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips.

the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears.

kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.

you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh.

raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor.

a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one.

while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass.

when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back.

“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.”

“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.

his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.”

when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).

you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.

“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”

your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.

you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”

“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”

his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.”

he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.

he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again.

he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.

much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately.

his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.

“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.

“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.

“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.

his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”

in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.

you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.

he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.

“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”

“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”

with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring.

you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.

“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”

all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~”

you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore.

your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.

the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him.

he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down.

you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.

kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”

a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly.

gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”

“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth.

his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh.

he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.

he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.

“ohh~ kaeya~”

the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.

kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit.

grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.

“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.

there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”

“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.

he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.”

his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides.

the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock.

he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt.

kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.

“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”

“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”

you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.

your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.

one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum.

when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow.

“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask.

with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk.

“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”

“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”

“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.

“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.

you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.

you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already.

with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more.

sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”

you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening.

“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”

the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.

you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.

you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips.

“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail.

kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”

and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.

with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.

“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.

eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”

with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you.

you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder.

“love it when you call me that…” he pants.

“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile.

his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”

after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.

kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word.

⊹✧˚｡⋆

dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you.

oh. oh right. that happened.

you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him.

⊹✧˚｡⋆

kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:

“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”

you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.

a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius.

“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”

— sir kaeya

kaeya m.list | main m.list

⊹✧˚｡⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x f!reader #kaeya alberich x f!reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya alberich x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya alberich x y/n #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich smut #genshin x f!reader #genshin impact x f!reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

473 notes · View notes