pairing: slytherin chaser!siyeon x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff and comedy?
word count: 1k
warnings: quidditch related harm/injuries
summary: there was a reason you weren’t on the quidditch team. fortunately, for you and your life, siyeon was.
a/n: wrote another hogwarts fic for ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event and chose prompt number 33 – ‘you’re an idiot, you know.’ ‘yes, but i’m your idiot.’ haven’t given the reader a house but i imagine them to be from gryffindor. also this was kinda rushed so i’m not too proud of it :///
tagging: @its-a-me-mario-hihi @reluvy
Agreeing to play a mini-game of Quidditch with the group of goblins you call friends may not have been your wisest decision.
Not to say you couldn’t handle a broom, but amongst actual Quidditch players and friends who had no conscience when it came to competitions, it was not an understatement to say your life was in danger. Of course, these thoughts only occurred as you were plummeting from an unimaginable height and not when you’d made an outrageous bet under the high of completing your OWLs exams.
One second you were zipping past your friends, teeth bearing grin on your face and the Quaffle secure in your hand, and the next you were thrown off of your broom. No Quaffle, no broom, and no grin. Flailing about like a fish out of water, the wind thrashed at your uniform and swallowed your screams as you gained speed, the ground rising up at an alarming rate.
Before you could even think of grabbing your wand to cast a cushioning spell to save yourself from your impending doom, a strong hand wrapped around your waist and hoisted you uncomfortably onto their broom. However, with your saviour’s momentum and how close to the ground you had been, their broom went careening, throwing you off of a broom for the second time today.
Fortunately, you seemed to have somewhat conscientious friends as you felt a soft thump against your back before rolling onto the pitch, eating grass. Your saviour came to a stop next to you, panting, dishevelled, and no doubt furious at your attackers.
Huffing and puffing, Siyeon asked breathily to the sky, “are you okay, Y/N?”
“That was so stupid–“ Siyeon’s head snapped to you, her face contorted into confusion while she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, “I would’ve been fine!–“
Funnily enough, as you made your point, you began coughing as if your body were to say that no, you would not have been fine. Though you doubted your own reflexes, you were thankful for your friends who watched the stupid bets and hasty matches instead of taking part, if not for them…you would definitely not be fine.
Siyeon scooted closer to you, cautiously angling herself above you as her thumb caressed your cheek. “Eyelash,” was all she said as she avoided your gaze; a pitiful reason to hold your face. Leaning into her touch, you pressed your lips into a thin line to suppress the laughter emerging at her pathetic attempt at flirting.
“We lost the bet,” you sighed out, watching your friends on their brooms lowering themselves to the ground having scored the winning point. You turned back to Siyeon, it was difficult to not notice the worry etched in the creases of her forehead when she was only inches away. “We could’ve–”
Siyeon watched you swear under your breath as you vented about what could’ve happened. A soft smile appeared on her lips, seeing that you were good enough to be more concerned about a stupid bet even after your terrifying fall. Siyeon shook her head and said, “you’re an idiot, you know.”
You paused your rant and looked back at Siyeon, really looked at her; she must’ve been really worried. “Yes, but I’m your idiot,” you said offering an impish grin, before you took the hand that held your cheek and pushed forward to peck her lips. Even she couldn’t argue with that logic, so before you could properly thank her she leaned in for another. Siyeon seemed seemed a bit better after that; the two of you just there, in the middle of a the Quidditch field, chuckling and mildly delirious.
Of course, that moment disappeared just as quickly as you’d been flung off of your broom.
“Wrong, you’re both idiots.” A sharp voice from above you said, “and that was unbearable to watch, by the way.”
Above you, floating on his Nimbus broom sat the Slytherin chaser, Yoon Jeonghan; the Quaffle in one hand accompanied by a bright smile that can only be worn by a ruthless winner. Beside him, the Gryffindor Seungcheol, who on the other hand, wore an apologetic smile for tackling you. A mini-match of Quidditch with your friends was no simple task, especially with the bet you’d agreed upon…which was exactly why Siyeon said this next.
“You cheated!” Siyeon accused, fully sitting up now as Jeonghan landed, shaking his head.
“I did no such thing! That’s our move, it’s just basic Quidditch!” Jeonghan said, as Siyeon wagged her finger.
“We play Quidditch,” she said motioning to her and Jeonghan, then pointed at your, nearly poking an eye out. “Y/N doesn’t! You can’t pull stuff like that!”
Jeonghan shrugged, “Seungcheol doesn’t play Quidditch either so–”
“Jeonghan, how is that fair? Seungcheol is built like a Giant– I demand a rematch!” Your small group of friends that had gathered to watch the two Slytherins yell, grunted in disapproval at Siyeon’s words. It was understandable, with their OWLs completed and three somewhat decent mini-games of Quidditch behind them, all anyone wanted was a filling dinner and good night of sleep.
Raising an eyebrow, Jeonghan said, “try again. Loser.”
Siyeon’s mouth fell open as charged silence fell over the group, even you were holding your breath and when Siyeon spoke next, snorts and sniggers erupted amongst your friends. With her head hanging low, Siyeon grumbled, “please consider a rematch…Professor Yoon.”
Jeonghan brought a finger to his lips as he pretended to contemplate this suggestion while he jumped off of his broom. Then with a saccharine smile, he said, “permission denied, Ms Lee.”
Nayeon’s unique guffaw was heard above your friends' cackles while Jeonghan stared at Siyeon with a triumphant grin. Seungcheol, dropping down from his broom, walked over to you to help you up with an apology on his lips.
Being the honourable loser, you said, “thank you, Professor Choi.”
With his dimples in full display, he only cringed at your words as the rest of you watched Jeonghan drill out orders for Siyeon to carry out. Though you and Joshua were also supposed to be carrying out this punishment, you hung back with the rest of the group, laughing at the sight of Siyeon running behind her professor as the sun began to descend, signalling the last night of your fifth year at Hogwarts.
pairing: slytherin!jeongyeon x gender neutral reader
genre: comedy,,,an attempt was made
word count: 1k
warnings: mentions of cockroaches, death threats in a joking manner
summary: jeongyeon attempts a never-tried-before spell crafted by yours truly and horrifyingly, it goes much better than you had expected.
a/n: wrote this for ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event and chose prompt number 17 – ‘you can’t do that!’ ‘watch me.’ haven’t given the reader a house but i imagine them to be from ravenclaw bc we love some inter-house interactions. also thanks to @masterninjacow for reading this and showering me with compliments ;-;
tagging: @its-a-me-mario-hihi @reluvy
You were making your way to the Grand Hall when out of nowhere, a hand grabbed your wrist and dragged you around the corner of the corridor. Before you could get a word out, Jeongyeon’s face was an inch away from yours, she brought a finger to her lips while gripping her wand. Letting you go, her wide eyes peered from behind the wall where you were hiding. Studying the manic look and the wicked grin on her face alongside the small young group of students she’d gathered made you begin to worry. You had a vague idea of what this could be about.
“I think we should do it,” Jeongyeon said, biting her lower lip, observing the crowd of students walking up and down the courtyard. Then Jeongyeon’s face lit up darkly, you assumed she’d found her target. Clenching her fists, she turned to you with a smile akin to an excited puppy, “the spell. We should try it now-“
“Which spell?” You asked confused, worry escaping your mind at the mention of yours and Jeongyeon’s…experiments. Fishing out the little sketchbook hidden in your uniform, you skimmed the pages while trying to keep away the young students who tried to peer at jinxes and hexes they could cast on their oblivious friends.
“You know the one– hurry!“ Jeongyeon said, bouncing on her feet. She turned to the students she’d gathered and put on her practised grin. “Okay, children. If anyone wrongs you, this is the jinx you need–“
“Jeongyeon, it’s not ready!” You hissed as you scanned your messy notes then looked to the ecstatic Slytherin, “you’re not ready!“
Pausing from selling your handiwork, Jeongyeon shook her head and said, “it’s ready, I’m sure of it! Please, it will work–“
Shoving past her, you peered over the wall and had your concerns confirmed. Not far from you stood the Gryffindor prefect, Jihyo, also known as Jeongyeon’s favourite victim. In her hands, parchment overflowed as she rolled her eyes at a grovelling student in your year, probably asking for some consideration on changing their grade.
Jihyo shook her head and emotionlessly watched the student mope. Putting the pieces together, you asked, “wait a minute, is this about your Transfiguration assignment?”
“No, it’s not! This has absolutely nothing to do with my failed assignment, I’m a great Transfiguration student!” Jeongyeon shrieked, before pulling herself together. She readied her wand as she stood behind you, pointing at the unsuspecting Gryffindor, who sighed as the student walked away. You shook your head in disappointment as Jeongyeon said to the students, “watch the wand movement! Transfiguration requires precision, my children.”
Your mouth fell open as you looked from Jeongyeon’s unnecessary showmanship to the very easily awestruck juniors. Standing closer to your friend, you placed a hand on her elbow to lower her wand as you hissed, “I’m telling you the spell won’t work! You can’t do that–”
Taking your hand away from her she squeezed it as she gazed at you with her deep brown eyes, ablaze with mischief. With Jeongyeon’s winning smile and a wink, she said in a low tone, “watch me.”
You had modified the spell from your previous failed attempts, so you had to admit, you were a bit curious. Without wasting another second, Jeongyeon performed the jinx with deadly accuracy. This kind of dedication was rare in Jeongyeon until it came to pranks and the like. What before had resulted in sputtering sparks from the tips of your wands, little fires, and odd combinations of lifeless objects merged with disgusting creatures, which you had spent hours repairing...now occurred perfectly as you had theorised.
You watched in horror as the pieces of parchment Jihyo held fluttered upwards as if carried by the wind, before shrinking and gaining colour. Paper turned to wings, erupting into little black beads which duplicated into an intrusion of cockroaches of various sizes. Behind you the kids exclaimed and shrieked in awe while Jihyo’s shriek broke the sound barrier, almost bringing all of the courtyard to silence.
Jeongyeon, giddy with her handiwork, squealed and kissed her wand before ambushing you into an embrace. She jumped up and down, hugging your frigid body while you watched the disgusting sight ahead of you.
Then it struck you, Jeongyeon had mastered the spell you created. A terrifying jaw-breaking grin that could rival Jeongyeon’s spread across your face as you scrambled for your notebook. Shaking your head in disbelief as you corrected your notes.
Jeongyeon scoffed as she tilted her nose up to the sky, “Yoo Jeongyeon? Bad at Transfiguration? Yeah, right, that’ll teach her!”
“She’s going to kill you.” You smiled, as students resumed their hurried walks to class completely unaffected by pranks like this, most likely even aware of the perpetrators. Narrowing your eyes, you pocketed the notebook as you said, “you got lucky by the way, we still have to refine it–“
“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, my young one.” Jeongyeon mimicked Professor Binns while tapping your nose, you swatted her hand away. With one last grin, she yelled, “I am the God of Transfiguration!”
“Yoo Jeongyeon?” Your Slytherin friend froze with her hands thrown up, all the pride and excitement leaving her face as Jihyo’s thundering voice screeched, “Yoo Jeongyeon! You are dead, you are so dead!”
For just a second, you peered over the wall, Jeongyeon’s jinx was already returning back to its original state. This meant two things; first, your jinx had a time limit, and second, and perhaps more important, your death was imminent.
“Jeongyeon and Y/N, when I catch you–”
Ignoring Jihyo’s promise of destroying the two of you, you turned to the children in front of you and grabbed your wand, “scatter, kids, shoo!”
With your wand at the ready for any possible problems that may arise, you scanned for the best escape route. This time, it was your turn to take Jeongyeon’s wrist and drag her across the corridors of Hogwarts, or if you wanted to live to see another day, though the school’s secret passages the two of you had spent documenting. Paying no mind to the irritated grunts from students, you shoved and pushed your way past as the two of you sniggered, elated by the chase and your accomplishments.
genre: romance, some fluff(?), some angst, reader is a ~cool girl~ B) , tsundere!reader, soft boy!mingyu, ice cream, 2gyuniverse
word count: 4.9k
warnings: profanity (reader is a potty mouth), mentions of alcohol,
a/n: i'm gone for like 3 weeks and then post 2 fics within 24 hrs of each other oops. wrote this as part of the ficscafe dialogue prompt event! i ended up using so many prompts alkjadjslkl; but anyways, this one's for the bestie @gyukult : ] thank you to @minghaofilm and @hoshblr for beta reading <3 lava u both!! plz plz plz plz plz let me know what you thought, feedback is the only way i can get better as an author and know if my fics are okay :')
a/n pt 2: gyu's part is finally out! if you're curious abt what happens w cheol and mingyu's friend, check out strawberry cheesecake! enjoy <3
my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／
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prompts 1, 3, 11, 26, 40, 44, 47
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God, you hated him so much. You hated him more than Choi Seungcheol who was mostly to blame for the situation you were in now. If not for your lovestruck best friend, you wouldn’t be sitting here on a double date with him, his girlfriend, and this tall dumbass of a human, Mingyu.
You could remember that day very clearly, the day that set everything into motion.
“Choi Seungcheol, I swear to fucking—” You had burst through the ice cream shop doors to find your best friend standing blankly with a jar of maraschino cherries in his hand. Next to him, the cashier opened one eye to look at you, neon red juice dripping down her cheek. “Dear god, don’t tell me you popped the girl in the eye?”
He looked to her then back to you, not realizing what had just happened until you came in. “What? Wait. Shit. It’s not what it looks like—”
“What the hell?” Another voice entered the small shop, all eyes, including yours, turning to the ridiculously tall guy coming from the back room. He was wearing the same uniform as the girl, only instead of a red and white pinstripe dress, he was wearing a matching shirt and bright red pants. The stripes were already ugly as hell, and to make things worse, they had those god awful paper hats that looked straight out of a 50’s diner. But that was the vibe of the ice cream parlor, wasn’t it? “Is this guy bothering you?”
“What?” the girl asked, genuinely confused by the situation. When she realized her friend was getting defensive, she quickly shook her head. “No, he was just helping me.”
The tall boy looked at her briefly before attempting to shift his gaze to Seungcheol, though his eyes stopped at you instead.
“What?” you mouthed to him, jutting your chin out. You expected him to look away immediately—speaking from past experience, people tended to avoid looking at you. You couldn’t help it if your resting bitch face kept their eyes off you, but that’s exactly what you wanted. Yet, for some reason, his eyes lingered on you longer than they should have. And you hated every moment of it.
He returned his attention to his coworker who was now assuring the two guys that she was fine and it really wasn’t a big deal. You walked over to Seungcheol and punched his shoulder. Wrong move. Realizing that was the shoulder he just got a tattoo on, you look at him apologetically when he turns and glares at you, biting his lip to keep calm.
“Dude, let’s go.” This time, you hit his arm with the back of your hand. “I have shit to do today.”
Seungcheol raised his eyebrow at you with suspicion, but he didn’t argue. He slowly but surely turned around, the two of you leaving the ice cream parlor.
“The fuck was that about?” you asked him.
“Nothing,” he replied, but you knew him better than that. You and Seungcheol had known each other for lord knows how long. In another life, maybe you would have called him your best friend, but that’s not something you would say out loud while you were still breathing on this earth.
———
A few days later, you were riding around town with Seungcheol again when you found yourself outside a familiar building. The plaster was painted a yellow, once bright but now dull from years of harsh sunlight. The sign to the parlor was also chipping and run down, the letters of ‘A Scoop of Heaven’ fading to the point it was barely legible in the daylight.
You don’t say anything to him, but you have a guess that this might have something to do with the cashier from yesterday.
“Ice cream? Again?” you asked, the judgement in your voice far from subtle.
“Shut up,” he shot back.
“I’ll wait out here.” You leaned against your bike, pulling out your phone to keep you busy while your friend went inside.
Seungcheol approached the counter, clearly he was a man on a mission. “Where’s your friend?” he asked Mingyu.
“Where’s your friend?” he rebutted.
“Mine? Why are you asking about her? I’m just asking about yours because of her eye yesterday.”
“I don’t know. I just find her… intriguing.”
“You got some kind of horror kink, dude?”
“What? No. What the hell?”
“Look, buddy, if I were you, I’d save yourself the time and energy. She’s not worth it unless you like living in fear.”
“Oh, come on. She can’t be that bad.”
“She really is. Trust me.”
Mingyu shrugged. “What’s your name? I’ll let her know you stopped by.”
“Seungcheol,” he said, putting his hand out.
Mingyu grasped it firmly, shaking it as if they were businessmen closing a deal. “Mingyu. Nice to meet you. Are you gonna get some ice cream or are you just here for my friend?”
“Oh. Right. A strawberry cheesecake for me, and a mint chocolate for my friend. Single scoop each.”
So, you liked mint chocolate ice cream, huh? “Sounds good.” Mingyu pulled the metal scoop from small tub of water,
“Here,” Seungcheol said, shoving the cup of ice cream in front of you.
“Easy, buddy, this jacket is real leather,” you reminded him.
“A little ice cream isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
“Oh, yeah?” You raised your eyebrow at him. He looked back at you, confusion embedded in the wrinkles of his forehead, though soon they relaxed when he realized what you were doing. You started chasing him around the parking lot with your spoon, threatening to get it all over his jacket, something he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated.
Mingyu watched this go down from behind the counter, his eyes wandering every once in a while as he helped other customers. It was nice seeing you smile like that, though a part of him wished he could be the reason for it.
You could care less about anyone or anything else, but somehow, you were unsure of when these “group hangs” started happening. Maybe it was when Seungcheol started bringing his new girlfriend around that Mingyu started trailing along like a lost puppy. Regardless of the reason, you didn’t enjoy it one bit.
All of that bullshit led to you spending the day at the beach with these three. You didn’t mind Seungcheol’s girlfriend — she was your polar opposite. You wore denim and leather jackets, she wore flowy pants and sundresses. But maybe in another life, you two would have been friends. What you did mind, however, was the giant, bumbling idiot sitting next to you. It was still unclear how Seungcheol managed to rope you into these things, but one thing was for sure — you hated Mingyu. From the moment you met him, something about him just rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was how tall he was, or his caramel skin that you could just eat—
Shit.
“We’re gonna go on a walk,” Seungcheol announced to you and Mingyu. Shit, shit, shit. You watched your best friend take his girl’s hand as the two of them wandered off, acting like a cute couple. You were happy he was happy—again, not something you’d ever tell him, but damn it, they were gross. That left you with Mingyu…alone. Your worst nightmare come true.
“How’d you like the food?” Mingyu asked.
Ugh, small talk. Gross. “It was fine.” Well, actually, it was pretty delicious, but you? Showing any emotion other than indifference? Unheard of.
“Seungcheol told me you liked sandwiches, so I made them.”
“You made these?” There was a lot to unpack here: first, classic Seungcheol to make someone else do his dirty work. Second, Mingyu made those? For you?
“Yeah, took me a few hours.” The more he spoke, the more you wanted to punch him in those big biceps of his. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Mingyu was stupid and you hated him.
“Why would you do that?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“What do you mean what do I mean ‘why’?”
“Because… I like you?”
Holy shit. There was no way this was happening right now. “Well, stop.”
“I can’t just stop.”
“Whatever you’re thinking in your tiny little brain of yours, stop it. There’s nothing going on here.”
“Nothing? At all?” You could tell by the way his voice quivered that he took offense to your denial, but what did you care?
“Not a single, damn thing.”
“Not after all of those double dates?” Despite you two hanging out with Seungcheol and his girlfriend a lot, you assumed that it was mutually understood that you were both the third and fourth wheels, not on some double date thing.
“In your dreams,” you scoffed. Silence fell upon you two, the crashing of the waves on the shore and screeching seagulls the only noise to fill the air. This whole situation felt like a set up, and if there was one thing you hated more than Mingyu, it was being pushed to do something you didn’t want to do.
That was the last time you saw him. Or heard from him, for that matter. You stopped going with Seungcheol to the parlor, he stopped coming along with his friend to the bar to visit you and Seungcheol. What was supposed to happen was that you would go along with your life exactly as planned, free of nuisances like Mingyu, and everything would be just fucking dandy.
But it wasn’t.
The days felt shorter, life became more dull, something in your life was missing. You hated not knowing what you were feeling, and the only way to settle this was to go on a ride, so you hopped on your motorcycle and hit the road, no destination in sight.
Riding around the city was supposed to be your release, but the adrenaline still wasn’t enough to clear your head of whatever was going on. You rode some more until finally you found yourself on a familiar path.
No, you shouldn’t go there, you couldn’t.
But it was like your bike had a mind of its own, slowing down right in front of the stupid ice cream parlor. You checked the gas meter only to find the needle teetering on the 'E'.
Great. Fucking great. Pulling out your phone to text Seungcheol, your eyes immediately fell upon the 1% at the top right corner of your screen. Of course. A heavy sigh left your lips, you looked towards the shop that was bustling with families and teenagers looking to have a sweet treat to counter the sweltering heat of the summer. You could go in there and hope that it was Seungcheol’s girlfriend and not Mingyu. Yeah. That could work, right? You’d ask her to text him and tell him what was up, and he’d be over in no time. Okay, you thought to yourself. Let’s just hope for the best. You adjusted your leather jacket (how you and Seungcheol always managed to wear one despite the temperature was a mystery to anyone and everyone), taking quick strides to enter the shop.
You had hoped for the best, but apparently you didn’t prepare for the worst. Mingyu was helping a customer when he heard the shop door bell ding.
“Hi, welcome to —”
You froze in the doorway, staring at him as customers reluctantly tried to maneuver around you.
How long had it been since you heard Mingyu say your name like that? No. Now was not the time. “Where’s your friend?”
“Why are you looking for her?”
“I need her to text Cheol for me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you need her to text him?”
“Can you just leave me alone?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I never asked for your help.”
“Why do you always have to be like this?”
“What? It’s none of your business.”
Mingyu said your name with such desperation laced throughout his voice. It was exasperated, and honestly? You hated the way it sounded. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“Can you shut up? Everybody’s staring at us.” You had unintentionally stopped the flow of business when you got into this argument with the store’s only cashier. Seungcheol’s girlfriend had left just minutes before you arrived, and funnily enough, she was on the back of his motorbike. Frustration built within you, your muscles tensing at the unwanted attention. “Forget it.” You stormed out the door, but Mingyu came trailing behind you after apologizing to the customers about having to deal with this “emergency.”
“What do you need Seungcheol for? Just tell me, and I’ll help—” he stopped himself. “Just let me hear you out.”
“I don’t want to tell you shit.” Tears began to form at the corners of your eyes. What the hell? You rarely ever cried, so why was this happening now, in front of the last person you wanted to see? “I’m sick of you.”
Without looking back, you marched forward, your legs working to get you anywhere but here. The sun was beginning to set when you found yourself a couple blocks down at the bar you worked at. It was your day off, and your coworkers were surprised to see you (you weren't exactly the type to be there voluntarily), but they didn’t ask questions when you sat down and asked for a shot of Hennessy. The gold liquid burned your throat, a feeling preferential to your frustration of today’s events. What was Mingyu’s deal? Why was he always looking out for you when he clearly had other girls who liked him way more than you? And why did a part of you miss when he would follow you around like a lost puppy? As the night progressed, your demands for one shot after the other increased. Eventually, your manager had to come out to stop you, her eyes clearly concerned about your current state of being.
“Let me call you a cab,” she told you as she escorted you outside, her hands keeping you steady in your drunken state.
“It’s okay,” you replied, shaking her off. “I can walk. My friend...there...he works...and his friend…Cheol’s girlfriend...”
Mingyu was cleaning up shop, mopping when he heard the bell ding again. Strange, he thought. The OPEN sign was clearly off and any sensible person would read the store hours first.
“Sorry, we’re closed—”
“Shut up, stupid.” Your words were garbled, but intelligible.
“What are you doing here?”
“Where’s my bike?”
“It’s outside.”
“Bike...” You sauntered outside to the exact spot where you had left it earlier in the day. Mingyu watched on carefully until he realized you were trying to ride it, a brief moment of panic washing over him before he remembered that it didn’t have any more gas. After you had left, he inspected the motorcycle to // see what you might need help with, soon realizing that you had indeed run out of gas. From there, it didn’t take long for him to guess that your phone had run out of battery. It took all of his willpower to not run after you right then and there, but there were customers waiting for him, so he returned inside. He texted Seungcheol and his girlfriend to see if they had seen you, but they hadn’t. He grew anxious as the night went by, but he couldn’t just leave. He was determined to go find you after he closed up, little did he expect that you would come sauntering in yourself, piss drunk.
Currently, you were leaning over your bike, hugging it for dear life.
“Bikey,” you mumbled. “I miss you so much.”
Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh at this sight. For all he knew, you were cold, aloof, an I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anyone-else kind of person, the kind of person other people were afraid of. Your heart was surrounded by four walls, barbed wire to keep anyone and everyone out. But in this moment, you were just like anyone else, soft and silly, upset at the fact that your motorcycle didn’t “Vroom vroom,” like you wanted it to.
“Hey, we should get you home,” Mingyu chided you gently. His arms wrapped around your shoulder, but you shook him off in protest.
“I don’t want to go home,” you pouted.
“Well, where do you want to go?”
“I want to stay here,” you stomped, like a small child throwing a tantrum. With you. The words came out so fast that Mingyu barely had time to process any of it. When he had registered what came out of your mouth, his jaw went slack.
“What did you just say?”
“I said,” you drawled. “I want to stay here.”
“With me?”
“I want ice cream.” Honestly, it was silly of him to think you would ever repeat yourself, even if you were drunk. But hey, it was worth a shot (no pun intended).
“I can get you ice cream.”
Your face lit up, just like a child’s would. “Really?”
“Really,” he replied, the softest smile forming on his face.
“I want mint choco,” you told him, attempting to stand up from your bike, though failing and stumbling to the ground. Luckily, Mingyu’s reflexes were fast enough to catch you from hitting the ground, your body in his arms. “Nice arms…”
“You like my arms?”
“I want mint choco.”
“Okay, let’s get you some mint choco.”
He lifted you up and brought you inside, sitting you down in a booth in case you tipped over. He had already cleaned the scoops, though he didn’t mind pulling out another one, even if it meant staying a little longer just to clean everything all over again. He opened the glass case, the cool air coming out at him all at once. Scooping one small heap of mint chocolate ice cream into a paper cup, he closed the case and returned to you, placing the ice cream in front of you.
You could barely grab the spoon, much less scoop some into your mouth, so Mingyu took it upon himself to feed you. He rested his head on one hand while the other held the spoon to your mouth.
“You know,” you told him, your words long and slurred. “I could get used to this.”
“What? Me feeding you?”
“Just… spending time with you.”
Mingyu was thankful you were drunk, otherwise you would have heard the booming of his heart as it palpitated from your words. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s nice.”
“You’re so much nicer when you’re drunk.”
“Hey,” you pouted, eyebrows furrowing in response.
“You’re cute when you’re angry. You know that?”
“I’m not cute.”
“I think you’re cute.”
“I think you’re cute...hic!” Oh, the hiccups. Whenever you got shy or embarrassed, you would start hiccupping. Fortunately, being in your drunken state, you could care less.
“Are you saying you like me?”
You nodded fervently.
“Like, like like me?”
Your head would have rolled off if you nodded any harder, your hair falling in front of your face. Mingyu looked at you tenderly, his hand tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Your eyes softened, contrary to the usual glare you would give him. Without thinking, you leaned in, your face quickly closing the gap between the two of you. “Are we about to kiss right now?”
Mingyu chuckled. “Alright, no more drinks, time to get you home.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Well, you have to.” Mingyu took your cup and spoon and threw it in the trash. He helped you up and the two of you got into his car. It took him a while to get your address out of you, eventually resorting to Seungcheol for a response. The drive home was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. It was hard to believe what you had said to him earlier. Did you really like him? Or were you just saying nonsense because you were drunk?
As nice as it was to hear these words from you, he would only take them at face value. If you meant anything you said, he’d want to hear it from you when you weren’t five shots of Hennessy and two beers in.
“We’re here,” he spoke softly. When you didn’t respond, he turned to find you asleep, your head resting on the window. He got out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door as slowly as possible so you wouldn’t come flying out. Your body flopped into his arms, and he rearranged himself so you were on his back.
Seungcheol came downstairs to open the door for you two and show Mingyu where you kept your spare key.
“Thanks, man,” Mingyu told him.
“No problem. Text me if you need anything.” Seungcheol waved him off, returning to his own apartment where his girlfriend was waiting for him.
“Shit,” Mingyu huffed. “Maybe I should have asked him to open the door first.”
“Stupid,” you mumbled, half-asleep, but still slightly conscious.
A small chuckle left Mingyu’s lips. There was that same feisty energy you always had.
Finally, he was able to unlock the door to your apartment, the interior a stark contrast to the rest of your aesthetic. It was full of earthy tones, from the beige walls, to your tan comforter and matching pillows, it was very warm compared to your usual persona you showed the rest of the world. Mingyu set you down gently on your bed, a groan coming from the depths of your chest as you shoved your face into the pillow. Mingyu searched your apartment for a towel to wipe down your face with — it was the least he could do without overstepping his boundaries, you would just have to deal with waking up in a rough state in the morning.
Sunlight trickled through your blinds, hitting your eyes just perfectly (as in, it was blinding the shit out of you) when you woke up. Last night had been a bit of a blur, though you tried to put together bits and pieces. On your bedside table, your phone was plugged in and at 100% battery. You pulled the charger out to check your messages, just one from Seungcheol asking how you were.
Not one to enjoy texting, you called him.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” his hoarse voice teased from the other end. He had probably just woken up, too, judging by the raspiness in his voice.
“Shut up,” you told him.
“How’s the hangover?”
“I feel like shit, but it’s not the worst hangover I’ve ever had.”
“Drink some water,” he nagged. He was a couple years older than you which meant he felt the need to act like an older brother sometimes, and you couldn’t say you appreciated it much.
“Okay, mom. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”
“What?”
“What? Didn’t you bring me back last night?”
Seungcheol’s laughter was bad news. You could only imagine what was to come out of his mouth next. “All I did was let Mingyu into the building and show him where your key was.”
“You did what?”
“Why do you sound so surprised? Aren’t you two dating or is that just a fuck ton of repressed sexual tension?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
If you had the energy to storm up to his apartment, you absolutely would have, and you would have ended him right then and there.
“Look,” he continued. “All I’m saying is that y’all got something going on.”
“That’s none of your business.” You weren’t sure if you were angry, annoyed, or embarrassed because maybe, just maybe, he was right. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you hung up on your friend. “I hate him.”
You sat up in your bed, hunched over from the slight stomach ache and soreness in your muscles. Blurred memories of the previous started flooding back, including the ones of your confession to him, though you couldn’t quite make out what exactly was said or what the response was. On your bedside table, where your phone had previously been, was a cup of water and a small note.
Make sure you drink the whole glass and take some painkillers for the headache.
There was no name at the bottom, but you knew Mingyu had written it based off of Seungcheol’s words. You pulled yourself out of bed to take a cold shower. The goal was to clear your mind of Mingyu, but as the droplets of water hit your face, he was the only thing you could think about. For so long, you had denied any and all feelings for him because you were afraid. Afraid of letting your walls down, afraid of being vulnerable with someone and afraid of having your world completely shattered just as it had been in your last relationship.
But there was something comforting about Mingyu, something that made you feel safe while also courageous to let your guard down again for the first time in a long time. You stepped out of the shower with a new resolve, ready to love face him and your feelings.
Your hands shook as you put on a fresh band t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. You couldn’t be bothered to put on your usual white t-shirt, dark denim jeans, and leather jacket, not in this near 100 degree weather. Your bike was nowhere to be seen, which meant it was still at the shop. Great. Well, it didn’t matter because you were headed there anyway. The only option you had was to take the bus which you absolutely hated, because, well, you hated people. But between that and walking, it was your best choice.
As you neared the ice cream parlor, your breath grew shorter, the palpitations in your chest growing at an increasing speed. You paused, staring at your bike out in front, exactly where you had left it yesterday. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe this was a bad idea. Besides, you couldn’t exactly remember what you had said to Mingyu last night, nor what his response was. What if you confessed everything and he rejected you? But why would he take you home? He wasn’t an asshole though, you told yourself, so even if he did reject you, maybe he only took care of you out of pity.
“You know what? I’ll just grab my bike and walk it to the nearest gas station and leave,” you whispered under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Just go grab it real quick. He’s probably busy, so he’ll never see me.”
You took big strides to the motorcycle, being careful not to look inside the shop, though your curiosity nearly got the best of you.
Inside, Mingyu was talking to his friend/Seungcheol’s girlfriend when you entered his line of sight. He watched you curiously, your steps hurried and frantic, his face lighting up since he knew you would show up at some point.
“Did you text her?” his friend asked.
“No, but I figured she’d have to come get her motorcycle at some point,” he replied. She nodded, knowing full well how much you and her boyfriend depended on getting around the city on your beloved bikes.
“Where is she going?”
Mingyu looked out the window again, having been briefly distracted by an error on the cash register. “I… don’t know.”
“You should go check—” she told him, but he was already out the door, calling out your name.
You froze, chills running down your spine. Shit. Nothing ever went as planned whenever it had anything to do with Mingyu, though secretly, maybe that’s exactly what you wanted.
“How are you feeling?” he asked you.
“Um, fine,” you replied sheepishly.
He wasn’t sure what to say or what to do, so he stood there, the two of you basking in a familiar, yet still uncomfortable, silence.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “So, do you have anything to say to me?”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“No?”
He raised his eyebrow in curiosity. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
“No.” Yes. Kind of.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, a smug grin forming on his face. God, he was so hot, but so annoying.
You absolutely despised how he could make your blood boil yet also make your heart beat faster than you’ve ever experienced. Time slowed as the two of you stood there awkwardly, just staring at each other like cowboys in a bad Hollywood Western showdown.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” Why wouldn’t he just answer you? You didn’t come here to play games. In fact, it took a lot of courage to even come here in the first place, and you weren’t exactly sure what it was, but something inside you snapped.
“You know what, Mingyu? I’m so tired of you. I'm so tired of walking around on eggshells with you that I finally found the courage to come here and tell you how I feel. But then you decide it’s funny to mess with me? Haven’t you had enough?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that I came here because I like you, Mingyu,” you blurted. You were huffing and puffing when the realization that you just confessed your feelings to him washed over you. Mingyu did nothing but smile, his body coming closer with every step he took.
“You said it, not me,” he said.
“Stop right there.”
“So, you’ll go out with me, right? Officially?”
“I’ll go on....dates,” you said, suddenly shy. “With you.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this whole time?”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Just,” you sighed. “Kiss me, you idiot.”
You didn’t have to say it twice because Mingyu was already grabbing you by the waist, pulling you in until your noses were smushed together.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered to you.
Just this once, you were willing to say it out loud. “I have, too.”
prompt. #24 — “you’re a monster” from @ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event
description. in which what was dead may never die.
pairings. kim hongjoong x female reader
genre. pirates of the caribbean!au, fantasy
warnings. minor character deaths, semi-graphic descriptions of murder, mentions of violence, blood, guns, a lot of historical inaccuracies, EXPERIMENTAL and the writing is just ?? also didn’t bother to proofread bc i might delete everything
word count. 4.1k
notes. inspired by this cover that’s used a lot on tiktok. loosely based on dead men tell no tales/salazar’s revenge.
Both the inky black sky and sea stretched into the horizon whichever direction you looked. Land had long disappeared off your field of vision as you sailed further into the ominous sea. Waves rocked against the side of the ship, occasionally spilling water into the cellar you were held in through the small gap on the wall. The gap was a pathetic attempt at a window, all jagged with uneven edges that could barely fit a hand through, but you were thankful for any link to the world outside. It kept you hopeful.
The light from the kerosene lamp hanging outside your cell would swing every now and then, enough to illuminate the marks you’ve left on the wall. Picking up a piece of charcoal, the medium you’ve become accustomed to using, you added another streak to your tally. It was yet another night wasted locked below deck.
It made you wish that you should’ve kept your mouth shut instead. But you knew that your conscience would haunt you if you let the crew of measly bold men make another attempt at crossing the Great Beyond without giving them a heads up on what awaited them.
You recalled the sound of your booths clicking against the wooden dock as you weaved through the crew trying to load in the last of the ship’s supplies. Their words flew past your ear as you climbed on to the main deck, neck strained in search of the ship’s captain. The famous Lovecraft, mastermind of the outrageous plan and said Captain of the Cursed Raider, spared you an unenthusiastic look before tapping the nearest crewmate. Thinking he was considering your warning, you waited. Little did you know that he was uttering an order that would put your life on standstill until the ship docked at the other side of the sea. He figured it was yet another attempt at catching a free ride on the impossible journey, so he threw you in with the others who attempted to do so.
And you ended up exactly where you didn’t want to be; on the ship, sailing to certain death.
But the voyage, so far, had remained uneventful—far from what you kept on insisting back on the docks. Maybe the stories you heard about one-man crews returning from failed expeditions weren’t true after all. If you said it out loud, it would be the greatest mockery to your great grandfather who experienced it first hand.
The townsfolk flocked to the docks as the lighthouse keeper announced that he spotted the Soul Cairn at the edge of the horizon. But their cheers slowly died down as the ship drew, realizing that there was only one passenger aboard. The lone sailor had been your great grandfather and the rest of his crewmates were littered across the deck with the spare sail draped over their rotting bodies. Rumor had it that the stench of the bodies was what made your ancestor go mad.
For days after he docked alone, all he could manage to say were 6 words: pirates, hourglass, stripes, ghosts, revenge, and death. He was hanged within a week of his arrival after being accused of murdering his entire crew. But he was only the first of many other voyagers who returned mad and alone. Those who came back told the same story. An unlucky few were never heard from again. The Great Beyond was said to be home to pirates who left only one man in the entire crew alive to tell the tale of their existence; seemingly to pass the message that they were still out there ready to strike revenge upon those who wronged them.
The frequency of the disasters were enough to scare anyone who dared to venture by sea. Ultimately, all travels across the Great Beyond were halted or rerouted for decades. Until about a month ago when a foolish group of middle-aged men decided to set course for the deadly route in hopes of finding land on the other side.
Though everyday spent out at sea never guaranteed any safety, you were starting to think that maybe the stories were nothing but hearsays afterall. An attempt to scare the citizens of the seaside city to stay put and never explore. Every day, the crew picked a single person from the cellar to allow on the main deck. You’ve been out a few times, getting your single dose of sunlight before they locked you below deck again for next week or so. At least, sleep came easy to you during the night.
The boat swayed whenever a sizeable wave rolled beneath, reminding you of the cradle from your childhood. Being homesick out at sea was tolerable, so long as you still had a bit of home with you. For you, home was the rocking of the boat. Subtle rocking, anyway.
Your eyes shot open when a keg rolled off the pile it was stacked on with a loud thump. Liquid spilled through and flooded the floor below deck. Sleeping folks groaned in their cells, disturbed by the accident. You sat up and backed away from the spillage, thanking your lucky stars that it didn’t cover the whole floor. But when you spared it a second look, you realized that it simply didn’t have the chance to.
A chill raced down your spine at the sudden temperature drop, watching curiously as the liquor froze right before your eyes. Every puff of air you let out clouded the space in front of you which made you wonder if the ship’s route encompassed sailing into subzero territory.
Rising to your feet, you peeked out the window and saw nothing. Outside, the world was grey. There were no glaciers, no sky, no sea. The thick fog seeped in through the openings, cooling the lower deck down than normal. A lot of the others remained unbothered by it, even thankful for the cold gust. You couldn’t sit still at all.
Your eyes scanned for the fog’s end but you couldn’t make out anything beyond a few feet. The sea water still sloshed against the ship’s hull, occasionally against your outstretched hand, but you couldn’t see its surface anymore.
A loud thump on the deck above you made you draw your hand back. A shout echoed across the deck, a signal for when the ship was under attack. The same voice attempted another call to arms but he ended up gurgling in his own words, falling to the floor with a loud thud. You shrunk to the floor, hand pressed tightly against your lips to hold back your shrieks. You didn’t have to see anything to know what was happening up there.
The fog had begun to clear and from the thick clouds emerged the silhouette of a ship’s bowsprit. Your jaw dropped at how massive the ship was when the rest of it came to view. It was easily twice as large as the ship you were on. The tip of its masts were so high up, it disappeared back into the fog beyond your vision. Of the whole ship, only the main deck appeared clearly along with its sail and the flag of black and bloody red stripes.
The upper deck had burst into chaos. Orders were shouted left and right, waking everyone up. Some of the crew have already marched below deck, loading the ship’s cannons with grapeshots before lighting the barrels up. “Fire!” they said, and the entire ship would shake as the heavy balls of lead shot out, directly on to the enemy ship but seemingly doing little to no damage.
Men from the enemy ship swung on braided ropes, landing on the deck one after the other. Their footfalls thundered across the wooden floor as the crew tried to fend them off. Shouts echoed across the deck along with the clashing of metal against metal. The floor groaned beneath them, carrying the weight of more bodies than it had been built for.
You could hear muffled cries and strained screams, followed by dull thuds on the wooden floorboards. The uncertainty of not knowing whose blood dripped through the crack on the ceiling made you quiver. You didn’t know which side was winning.
Outside your cellar, the crew fired the last of the cannonballs still to no avail. The side of the enemy ship was littered with holes but it still managed to remain afloat. The crewmates searched the lower deck for more projectiles to load but all the kegs and craters have been emptied out.
“There’s more on the deck!” One of the crewmates shouted, pausing when he realized it before darting for the upper deck. But he froze at the foot of the stairs, staring up with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. He took stiff steps aside to make way for someone coming down the stairs.
“What are you doing?!” the other crewmate yelled.
Before his comrade could reply, a gun fired—echoing down the hall of cellars. The man’s body collapsed at the foot of the steps as blood began to pool around him. The others in the cellars let out muffled gasps. The staircase creaked as a pair of tall men descended down the staircase together, nudging the boy’s dead body aside to clear their path. One reached up to grab the kerosene lamp from its hook to illuminate their way down the hall, panning the light as they passed each cell to glimpse at the occupants with blank gazes.
The other crewmate stood frozen, backed against the cannon’s tail. His attempt to conceal his presence fails as he trips on an empty pail. The pair of pirates turned their heads in his direction almost immediately, slowly walking towards the spot where the crewmate was. They stood over him before they ended his anxious misery with a gunshot to the head. Like his companion, he crumpled to the floor.
With the lamp illuminating their faces, you noticed that the pair’s faces were deathly pale—the lightest shade of grey. Their hair flowed as they paced the hallway, as if it were submerged in water that you couldn’t see. Their clothes and bodies were littered with bullet holes but there wasn’t a single drop of blood on their trial. Their insides, where muscles and organs should’ve been, were hollow. They were walking skin and bone.
Finally, they reached the end of the hall, pausing right outside your cell. The pair turned to the cell across you first before they turned to yours.
For moments, they observed you in silence. Their stoic expressions made you unsure if they stared out of pity or in calm rage. Finally, the man with an eyepatch draped over one eye pointed at you with a bony finger, “Her.”
An amalgamate union of voices booms loudly in your ear. The man had barely opened his mouth but you were certain that the voice had belonged to him. His voice was deep and rich and haunting, like the voices of the sirens that lured sailors to their deaths in the deep sea.
His companion nodded, stretching his arm through the gap between the metal bars of your cell. He had a hook where his hand should have been and the iron glinted with the rich orange light of the flame from the kerosene lamp. With one strong tug, not only does the cell door open but the whole metal gate was wrenched out of its place. Unhooking his hand, he let the iron rattle and fall on the ground in front of you.
“If you could come with us,” the same deep voice said.
You knew better than to go against them. Wordlessly, you walked out of your cell, thankful for the moment of freedom but not for the circumstance it came with. Pairs of terrified eyes watched as the pair marched you down the hallway, one leading the way and the other behind you. The air between them was frigid and every breath you exhaled clouded in front of you. You willed yourself to continue to walk forth, even when your knees trembled with every step.
They led you up the stairs and on to the main deck. The air was much colder outside even when the fog had already cleared into a light mist. You could see as far as the ship’s end but the area beyond it still remained hidden behind the cloud of grey. Across the Cursed Raider was the ship you only saw through the gap back in your cell. The whole thing was painted black, blending in with the sky and the sea. Its flag bore the whole ship’s only accent, the vibrant red stripes.
Around you the aftermath of the invasion showed a clear winner. Men who wore the familiar white sailor’s uniform lay lifeless on the floor, soaked in their own blood. Your blood ran cold at the sight of the massacre, breath hitching as you stumbled backward and away from the sight. Your back collided with the man’s chest and he stared down at you with the single eye left uncovered. You mumbled a quick apology immediately.
“Song,” a voice said and you realized that it came from the man in front of you. His voice was the same as the other’s, a cold string of multiple voices all combined into one. “Take care of the rest,” he ordered.
The man behind you nodded before he disappeared back below deck.
When you turned back around, you found a pair of lifeless eyes gazing down at you. In the moonlight you realized that his eyes were familiar, ones that you stared into on the posters in your father’s study. The resemblance was uncanny; he had the same pair of round eyes and the same tall nose. Once puffy cheeks were now sunken and his hair wasn’t patted down the way it had been in the wanted poster’s drawing. Though you could list down all their similarities, the single difference that made both profiles distinct was the date between today and the poster’s publication. If his posters were around from the time of your ancestor, he should’ve been long dead by now.
He turned his head, gesturing for you to come forth. All of the men who remained standing on the deck possessed the same ghastly features; pale thin flesh and pearl white bones beneath the uncovered parts of their body and the hollowness within. You recognized the others’ faces too, all of which belonged to the same pile of wanted posters from decades ago. Their faces were grim and stoic, moving with quick calculated steps as if they were controlled by string—awaiting their master’s next command. All of their eyes were trained at the quarterdeck and you followed.
On the elevated platform stood Lovecraft and a few other pirates. The once fierce-looking lad stood at the mercy of unfamiliar invaders who’ve overpowered him on his own ship, leaving him as the last man standing.
“You can kill everyone on this boat and spare me,” he began to negotiate.
Across him, a silver-haired bandit raised an eyebrow in amusement, “Why should I spare you? What do you have to offer?”
“My skills in navigating the sea,” Lovecraft blurted out, lying through gritted teeth before spitting out bitterly, “Captain.”
“Skills?”
“As you can see, I aim to cross the Great Beyond,” he announced proudly, but his statement sent the entire crew of pirates howling in laughter. All save for their captain who only continued to stare amusedly.
The one they called Captain continued only when the laughter had finally died down. “Any skilled sailor would know that it’s foolish to even attempt to cross the Great Beyond.”
Lovecraft’s smile disappeared as his expression darkened. “You call me foolish and yet here you are as well,” he answered, tone shifting as he reached for something behind him. “Perhaps, you are the foolish one.”
With one swift move, he drew his pistol out, aimed at the man across him and fired. You let out a gasp as the gunshot’s echo reverberated in the silence, but you had been the only one who was surprised. The bullet’s force knocked the man’s head back and you waited for the familiar thud of a fallen body but it doesn’t come. The captain of the Cursed Raider smiled before bursting into fits of hysterical laughter at what he’d done. He kissed the barrel of his gun in high praise, bragging to the remaining crew members for outsmarting their captain. You didn’t get the point of his celebration, not while the said captain still remained upright even after a clean gunshot to the head.
The captain’s laugh began with a low grumble, quiet but enough to silence the other. He jerked his head back up, letting everyone witness the way his flesh patched up the hole the bullet left behind.
Lovecraft’s jaw dropped in horror and disbelief. He staggered backwards, accidentally dropping his gun when he could no longer control the way his hands quivered. His back rammed straight into two other pirate men, shrieking when he saw one’s skull through a missing patch of skin.
His attention is drawn back to the captain when he hears a gun click. Before he could turn his head, he already felt the cold metal barrel of the gun pressed against his temple. His eyes scanned the deck frantically, panic and fear rushing through him when he laid eyes on all the lifeless bodies scattered across. But alas, his eyes find yours.
“You there! Do something!” He called from across the deck. Eyes turned in your direction and the ghosts waited for you to make a move.
But you could only do so much when you were surrounded too.
The silver haired man chuckled at the lad’s horror-stricken expression, clicking his tongue before he opened his mouth to say, “Estupido.” Then he pulled the trigger.
You looked elsewhere at the last second, hearing only the ringing sound of the gunshot and the dull thud of Lovecraft’s falling body. The men on the quarterdeck shuffled and soon enough you heard their footfalls as they descended on to the main deck, slowly making their way to where you stood. It took you a few more moments before you looked back up again. The captain’s face had the same ghostly features his crew had, and it was just as familiar as everyone else’s, except his face didn’t belong to one of the wanted posters compiled back in the study.
His face was the one etched on your great grandfather’s sketches—the ones he sketched repeatedly on the days leading up to his execution. He had a pair of hooded eyes rimmed with dark shadows that stood in stark contrast against his pale skin. A crack ran down his eyebrow up to his cheek, exactly the way your forefather drew him. There was no trace of the bullethole anywhere.
He stopped a mere foot away from you. You shivered.
“You look just like your father.” His voice was quiet, almost calm. You barely heard it with the pulsing in your ear. “Did he send you?”
You parted your lips to reply but your answer doesn’t come easily. You choke back a stutter, willing yourself to get your crap together and show now fear. “No. No, he didn’t.”
“What brought you aboard this pathetic ship then?”
You averted your gaze, staring at his maroon coat instead of his piercing dark eyes. Raking your mind, you desperately tried to recall how you ended up on the ship. “I,” you stammered, “I was just trying to warn them of the dangers that came with crossing the Great Beyond.”
He let out a low, earthy chuckle. “Oh, the wise one that you are. You really are your father’s daughter. How’s he doing?”
His words flicked off a switch in your mind and it filled you with rage. You recall the day you first asked your dad about the study, about the faces on the wanted posters, about what happened to his grandfather. Another memory of your father’s struggles to gain even your neighbor’s trust resurfaces and a flurry of other unpleasant memories comes back in a blink of an eye. Not a single person in your village looked at you normally; it was either out of pity, fear or disgust. All of them assuming that the deranged gene had been passed on to you.
“He’s dead, thanks to you,” you snapped, eyes meeting the Captain’s when you took a bold step forward—as if you weren’t trembling in his presence a moment ago. “You and your stupid pirate crew drove the poor man mad. You’re a monster!”
Heads turned in your direction as the words left your lips. The crew began to mutter around you and from your periphery you could see them zeroing on you. All of which the man in red dismissed with nothing but a wave of his hand. Everyone fell silent, everyone fell back into place.
“So I’ve been told,” he answered in the same amused tone, “Tell me, how am I a monster?”
“You mercilessly kill all but one passenger on every ship you come across.”
He cut you off with a laugh before you could continue. “My, did they do a splendid job in turning the story around!”
The captain turned away from you and you followed his gaze. You found yourself looking at the enormous ship docked next to the one where you both stood. He reached for something buried deep in his pocket, a miniature hourglass just about the size of his hand. He watched as the last of its contents emptied out to the bottom of the glass.
“I was from your town too, lass. That godforsaken town ruled by the filthiest of bastards. They hunted us down when we robbed them of the things they robbed from the people,” he said as he kicked one of the bodies lying around. A few gold coins poured out of the dead man’s pocket. “They chased us out into the open sea, sank our ship and left us drowning or shot us dead.”
Your eyes landed on the crewmate with an exposed skull.
“All we ever wanted was to know what it felt to live life not worrying about our next meals. And now we’re doomed to an eternity at sea, never to set foot on land again while these fuckers sail the seas to other isles to rob even more people.” He continued before he paced back to where you were. “Now tell me, who’s the monster?”
“Why not kill us all?” you asked.
“Not every ship is filled to the brim with these scoundrels. We spare those who’ve been unjustly treated like we have been, people just like you.” he answered, walking up to you until you were a mere hairsbreadth away. He leaned forward until his mouth was right by your ear. “I’m sure you’ll pass the message to the Captain of Hangman’s Hollow. Tell the General that I await his return to the Great Beyond.”
And just like that he vanished, just as quick as he came.
When you opened your eyes again, the fog had disappeared and you were met with the same inky black sky and the sea that stretched out wherever you looked. The moon hung overhead and its light bounced off the ripples of the waters beneath. The ship that loomed beside yours was nowhere to be seen and the main deck was devoid of the ghostly figures that had been there a second ago. Only the aftermath of the battle remained.
What they did in their sick pursuit for revenge was inexcusable still, but a part of you understood the feeling of always being at the bottom of the wheel. You thought about the crew; their thirst for vengeance and the captain’s parting words. They were souls lost in time, trapped at the place they met their demise until the day they’d achieve vengeance. Completely unaware that they’ll never be able to do so as the man they searched for was long gone and had been for nearly a century now.
You pitied them, knowing that their final quest to achieve the peace they sought for would end in vain. You wished you’d come across them in the waters of the Great Beyond just so you could tell them. Though you were unsure if their ears were open to anything, and maybe they wouldn’t be kind to spare your life the second time around.
But you had other things to worry about. You were standing in the middle of a floating casket, undecided on which direction to sail. Going forth meant a new clean slate but with the guilt of an entire crew’s death, sailing back meant certain death at the hands of the bereaved families.
No wonder your great grandfather went mad.
You were the only living soul for miles. And in the whole voyage back to your hometown, you could wish that you weren’t.
genre → fluff!! non-idol au, roommate au
↳ tags: friends to lovers kind of hehe, slice of life (I Will Not Stop.), slow dancing, that lyric from that lany song like “our disco balls my kitchen light” basically, midnight talks, midnight snacks (vern included), the omg im in love moment, no one here can sleep
↳ prompt: 13. “dance with me.” “but... there’s no music.” “i don’t mind. do you?”
song inspo → walking away by chelsea cutler but the title is from i Think everything by the black skirts !!
warnings → none i think!
a/n → yall its so tough i have to wack myself over the head every goddamn day just so i can get a thought that isnt screaming and crying over various types of vernons. today i had to knock silver vernon out my brain. it did not work. anyways another entry for ficscafe dpe because i wanted to
“Oh,” you mumble when you step into the already-lit kitchen, blinking at the brightness to adjust. “You’re up?”
Vernon’s blurry for a second but waves a hand at you, offering a quiet “yo” when he finishes chewing a spoonful of cereal. It’s too late for either of you to be up, really, but there’s not a lot you can do to help it.
“Can’t sleep?” You ask him, rummaging through your small pantry for the granola bars you know are in there. Vernon hums, and you hear his phone tap gently on the counter as he sets it down.
“Rarely can,” he responds.
“Me either, this time,” you tell him. The box of granola bars finds its way into your hand and you pull it out of the pantry victoriously, picking a chocolate chip one out and tearing away the wrapper. Vernon asks what’s keeping you up this late, and you tell him about studying for your upcoming exams and having to balance work and school and always feeling a little too tired to do anything.
The conversation drips into something mellow and sweet, the taste of honey on your lips. Honestly, you and Vernon are a lot closer than you thought you’d be; when he’d first moved in and he was more of a friend-of-a-friend, you didn’t see yourself getting along with him. He was hard to read and too quiet for you to feel like you were making any progress… but it just took some time, really. You learned to make a few of his favorite foods and he sent you music recommendations, and before long the two of you were taking trips to the pet store together to fawn over the cats.
It’s easy and comfortable when your late-night talk melts into nothing, the two of you finishing your respective “meals” in the quiet of your apartment, save for the hum of the air conditioning. As you’re throwing away the wrapper to your snack you realize that you don’t really feel much better about sleeping, and you try to rack your brain for another option that might magically make you pass out.
And then Vernon says, through the quiet, “hey. Dance with me.”
He’s around your side of the kitchen island to put his empty bowl in the sink, and even in the unflattering light he looks serious. A little embarrassed, maybe, but he doesn’t seem like the type of person to do these types of things, so you respond, “but… there’s no music.”
He shrugs, a small smile on his face. “I don’t mind. Do you?”
You don’t know. A part of you has always wanted the cliche dancing-in-the-kitchen-in-our-pajamas experience, the midnight talks and gentle giggles shared under low light. You just didn’t really expect it to be with your best friend.
Either way, you think, it’ll be fun.
So you take his hand and it’s lacking a groove, Vernon steps on your feet and you step on his, but you manage to lead the both of you into a rhythm, laughing a little once you finally steady yourselves in a side-step-spin routine.
The feeling is a slow creep up your veins and you feel it before it even reaches the tips of your toes.
All you can find in yourself to focus on is Vernon’s bedhead and bright eyes, the feeling of his hand over yours and the sudden reminder of his heart-shaped birthmark. You are fond just at the thought of him, so sure that you are giving him nothing but heart eyes.
If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, keeps his hands in yours and on your waist. You decide you’ll figure everything out later.
You rest your head on Vernon’s shoulder, face almost in the crook of his neck, as close to him as you can be. He smells like the fabric softener he always insists on buying and a cologne you remember him wearing on multiple occasions.
Vernon squeezes your hand a little tighter and you feel like you’d be able to fall asleep easily.
» Summary: You and your best friend eric were trusted with babysitting your sister's children while they were on a trip. But even tho you had fun with them, at the end of the day both of you were worn out.
» Ficscafe Event/ Prompt #27:“Hey, uhm, I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news, you won’t have to buy any more applesauce. Bad news, I lost the baby.”
» A/n: This is a platonic fic, no romance, just wholesome babysitting and crack sksjjdkdk. a lot of typos and incorrect grammer tho cause it’s unedited.
Here you are arriving at your sister's place with eric beside you. Knocking on the door and immediately you see her standing there with your niece in her arms and your nephew beside her.
"Auntie y/n!" He says, hugging your waist. You gave him a quick smile, rubbing his hair.
"Wonderful, you are here, take them before i loose my mind" she says as she places her in your arms. She hands eric their stuff as she pushes them aside to lock the door.
"We'll be back tonight, don't do anything stupid," you waved them off as her husband pulled away from the drive-way. "Well they were in a hurry," eric says beside you. Your poor sister hadn't gotten a break ever since she gave birth to her beautiful daughter. She needed a well deserved break from the nightmare, as she says.
And as a loving sister you are, you were happy to take her children while they go on a short trip, and of course, you couldn't forget dragging your best friend eric.
"The strollers and car seats are in the garage, I'll go get them," you said, giving eric the babu in his arms. He froze, not knowing what to do. Anxiety rushes through his body with the fear of dropping her.
"Are you and auntie y/n together?" The boy asks making eric's widen.
"What, no, we are just good friends," eric smiles at the curiosity of the boy at such a young age.
A sigh of relief left him as you came back with the twin stroller and two car seats. You adjusted them in the car and went back to help eric with the twins and their stuff. Not forget the eldest in the middle to watch his little sister.
"ok where do you wanna go," eric says, buckling up in the driver's seat.
"Well, my sister said they ran out of Applesauces and diapers, let's go to the grocery store to get some."
Eric nods and starts the car to head to the store.
Eric pushed the stroller with your niece in it and your nephew in the cart.
"Ok, she just gave us enough money and some extra to buy ourselves something."
"Can we please get ice cream?" Your nephew pleaded, giving you the puppy eyes.
What's with these kids using the puppy dog eyes, you thought. Sighing, knowing your sister will not buy the sugar.
"Fine," but then again, you are not your sister.
Checking the dairy isle for some milk, you spotted a lady, maybe in her 40s, coming up to you with your nephew. "Excuse me, is this your kid?"
"Omg i told you to stay in the cart, who let you out?" He pointed to eric who was watching your niece. "What? He told me he had cramps," you groaned, carrying your nephew and placing him on the cart.
"I'm sorry to ask but perhaps are you together? You two look young to be having children" The same lady again asked.
"Oh no, we are just friends, these kids are my sister's," the lady nods before leaving. You let out a breath, quickly leaving the embarrassing situation.
After getting the things you needed you headed to check out.
"Can we go to the park?" The boy asks eric as he straps him in the seats. "Y/n?" He looks at you.
"Sure bud" the boy smiles widely as you two get in and start the car.
Arriving at the park with your nephew beside you, unwrapping the ice cream as you take a stroll near the river.
"Are you sure you and uncle eric aren't together?" The boy pushes the topic again. This wasn't the first he had met eric and you couldn't blame the curiousity when he always saw you two together.
"I am very sure," you two were so close since kindergarten when you almost stabbed his hand with a pencil. Nothing more than two close best friends.
And your current boyfriend juyeon wouldn't like the sound of this.
A few minutes later, you sat down on one of the benches and played pocket cards. In the middle of your "intense" game, eric came panting.
"Hey, uhm, I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news, you won’t have to buy any more applesauce. Bad news, I lost the baby."
You dropped the cards in your hand, processing the words that just came out of his mouth.
"You what?!" You stood up, "Don't kill me! But i might have misplaced the stroller, The good thing is, it's somewhere in the parking lot near the mall, someone must've mistook her for a lost baby."
"Eric sohn if you do not find her right now I will fucking kill you,"
"Ok first off, language and second, i said i will ok now get in the car, it's almost sun down."
Running in the mall, hurriedly making your way to the police station inside you see the familiar stroller near the entrance.
You thanked the guards there for looking after her and left as soon as possible.
With a few minutes to spare, you and eric made it home before your sister came in to pick them up.
"Did you all have fun?" She asked her son. "Yeah! I had a really fun time with auntie y/n and uncle eric! I wanna hang out with them again!" You smiled at the enthusiasm.
After they left, the two of you crashed into the sofas, worn out. "Wanna order some take out," eric chirped in, "Yeah."
You were just relieved no one got hurt, you hoped this was the last time you are trusted with a child.
pairing: surfer! jongho x gn! reader
genre: fluff !!
word count: 2.4k
warnings // notes: mentions of ocean, and starting pistols, profanities, no more that i know of ;; #3 of @ficscafe's fourth dpe !! "can you shut up? everybody's staring at us."
"y/n! get your ass in here!" you groaned, dragging your feet through the warm sand.
"this was such a wrong decision," you mumbled, regretting to have accepted your friend's favor of taking over her part-time job for a day as one of the organizers in some kind of event for surfers. "coming!" you reply, bowing to the contestant in front of you that you were managing.
"i'll handle it here, go to the other tent and help them. there are a lot more contestants there," the supervisor, who was shockingly one of your despised seniors at university, ordered.
you just gave her a nod and dragged yourself once again to the next tent a few feet away, quickly sending a text to your friend when you have finally realized the reason she wanted out today.
yn: if you have said the bitch at univ was supervising today, i could've at least prepared myself mf
frenny: i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of her face lol i'll buy you lunch for a week!
tucking your phone back to your pocket, you have asked the organizers around what they need help for, and that was to aid some of the severely sunburnt surfers and to complete the attendance by asking around.
"we.. have surfers to aid.. because they're sunburnt?" you dumbly ask, staring at the girl before you weirdly. "..surfers? like.. professional ones because they wouldn't have joined this event because.. okay what the hell," you sighed. you didn't get it. if they were professional surfers, they would've at least known how to take care of their own skin.
she just chuckles at you and nods, pointing to where a few of surfers waited for their ointments. after giving you a few instructions of where it was, you walked to them.
little by little, the tent got crowded more and more because of the stinging heat- everybody wanted to shade their skin before starting the event.
"hi, excuse me, you're next," you smile at the woman waiting, letting her take the seat in front of you.
your sour mood worsened when people kept on pushing you around in hopes of getting more shade, and you swear you could've just shouted out in frustration.
then this man just.. was your last straw.
patting the ointment on the woman's neck, you gasped in pain when a surf board hits you in the head, and you tremble in annoyance.
"oh shit!" he turns around, the other side of the board now hitting your leg. "fuck!"
taking a sharp breath to suppress your anger, annoyance and pain, you turn your back slowly to the man, glaring at him.
he gives a low chuckle, "sorry.." and he mumbles.
his gummy smile beams at you, and if it weren't for his clumsiness you would've found a reason to stay.
trailing your eyes to his temporary id that was hung on his neck, you give him a tight smile.
"choi jongho," you spat under your breath, "it would be really nice if you could keep your board away from the tent. as you can see," you motioned your hands around the tent, "it's packed already. it may hurt somebody else too," gritting your teeth, you smile and return your attention back to the woman who had a worried smile on, asking if you were okay.
"sorry.." he mumbles before throwing the board behind the tent. "i was just about to do that," he gives another wary chuckle, leaving with his lips pressed together.
"oh, you were the last one," you mumbled, looking around for other surfers who needed aiding.
"yeah, thank you," she smiles, handing you the pack of ice gel to put in your head. "you were hit quite hard," uttering a sound of disapproval, her eyes found the board. "that board.. has one of the best materials too so it's a really good board because it's strong," she pats your shoulders and leaves, and you mutter a small thank you.
"choi jongho," you scoff, the name leaving bitterness in your mouth. you take the free seat occupied by the woman earlier, holding the ice pack to your head. you feel it tingle, making your eye twitch as you stare in the distance.
"i told you to help," your senior comes stomping right in front of you, "not to bum out," she tugs at the ice pack on your hands, throwing it on the sand as she glared at you.
clicking your tongue, you almost wanted to poke her eye out and leave the scene. almost. if it wasn't for another hand stopping your senior's hand that was just about to push you.
"i accidentally hit her head and leg with my board. if there's anyone you're angry with, i believe it should be me," your senior embarrassingly retracts her hand, and leaves to her tent but not before giving you another glare.
"mr. choi, i totally would've gotten that. at least would've given me a reason to leave this event," you sigh, turning your back at him to clean the kits you have used and picking the ice pack up and putting it back to the cooler.
"feisty now, are we?" jongho chuckles, hopping in front of you and craning his neck to catch your attention. "just awhile ago you were winking at me,"
"i- winking?" you stop on your tracks, furrowing your eyebrows at him while he raised his. "when did i even-," your brain, as if it flashed something, making you let out a light scoff.
"you remember now? it just happened a few minutes ago though," he chuckles once again, grabbing ahold of his board that was splayed on the sand behind the tent.
"mr. choi, for your information, i wasn't winking. but you do you," you shrug, giving him one of your cheeky smiles to throw him off.
he finally lets out a sincere laugh, just like music to your ears. you have now taken this chance to glance at him, his gray rash guard tightly wrapped around his body and his surfing shorts that stopped just below the knee.
hot.
"now you're checking me out," jongho nods cockily, turning to the side to show off more of his muscles under the clothing.
"whatever makes you happy, mr. choi," you snicker, trying to leave but he just needed to tail you.
"come on, you can call me jongho!" he beams, a little bit of sway evident in his steps while dragging his board with him.
"mr. choi, if i may, i still have some work to do," you turn to him, shutting all his questions down.
"then at least tell me your name first," he smiles and stands straight, as if offering you a good deal.
"y/n. are we good now?" your question was rhetorical. but he didn't just get the memo.
"nice meeting you! i'll see you later, y/n!" even when you started walking, he shouts at the top of his lungs and louder than every chattering happening in the beach. tucking your chin lightly to your chest, you acted as if you didn't know him as you did your final errands.
you should be heading home before the competition even started.
but then you see yourself getting comfortable on one of the seats, waiting for it to start while your eyes searched for a certain design of surf board, slapping yourself after realizing.
"looking for me?" jongho whispers from behind you, the sudden proximity making you jump out of shock.
"you wish," you mumble once again, looking back to the vast ocean where a lot of surfers were already warming up.
"oh i do wish," he chuckles for the nth time, looking at you who ignored his presence.
after a few minutes of peace, you finally whipped your head to him. he was silently leaning on his board, looking at a distance with a small smile on his face.
"shouldn't you be like- i don't know, warming up with the others or something?" you raise your brow, finding this annoying man's presence weirdly comfortable.
"oh?! you're worried about me now?" he smirks, and you could only roll your eyes and trail your eyes back to the swarming contestants in front of you. "i should be," he mumbles, sighing in relief as he stands right in front of you, his board dangling in his arm.
"so go?" your face crumpled in confusion, his sly smile in his face giving it away he was thinking of saying something more.
"can you give me your number?" he confidently asks, craning his head sideward while he waits for your response.
feeling your heart skip a beat, his doe eyes stare at you with such anticipation, but the fingers that anxiously tap on his board say otherwise that made you chuckle.
"isn't it enough that you know my name, mr. choi?" you smirk, craning your head sideward to mock him.
he sighs, feeling challenged at the sudden turn of tables.
"fine," he nods and points to the ocean, the sound of clashing wave making you feel calmer than your mood just awhile ago or maybe it was because you had company you somewhat enjoyed too. "if i win this, you owe me your number and a date,"
"i do not owe you any-,"you scoff, but jongho cuts you off.
"your number, and a date. just one. you can dump me afterwards," he raises his hands, trying to defend his point.
you sigh, squinting your eyes at him.
"and if you lose?"
"that wouldn't happen so i won't have anything to hold for that," he cockily shrugs, smirking at you. you were unfazed, raising your eyebrow at him. "fine. if i lose, i'll let you walk off this beach unbothered," he gives you a smile, one that showed his charming gummy smile and his eyes turning crescent, waiting for you to reply.
"deal then," you watch him jog to his place, his confidence rising up to the roof- which, there was none, so you could only imagine his amount of confidence.
you didn't know how great this man is, no. all you knew was his name, and age- and that was because of the papers you held for the attendance awhile ago. yet no part of you, even a fiber, regretted accepting his stupid deal.
hell, you didn't even know if he was that good to be that confident.
before swimming to the starting line somewhere in the ocean, jongho turns to look at you and give you a wink, making you chuckle.
"this is for you!" he shouts at the top of his lungs for the second time around, pointing at you then started swimming. clicking your tongue in embarrassment, you looked the other side to avoid the stares you were getting because of the man.
ou didn't know anything about surfing. but you do know some about swimming. you just knew that even just by swimming, jongho is indeed a good one. he had a good stance, a good pace. compared to the other participants, jongho stood out with his simple moves, yet he was the first one to arrive in the line.
everyone seemed nervous, but jongho wasn't. a smile was still plastered in his face, glancing at you from time to time.
as everyone got ready, you anxiously tapped your foot on the hot sand, unconsciously nervous for the man.
cutting off your thoughts, you finally heard the starting pistol go off, signaling the start of the competition.
waiting for a big wave to come, jongho effortlessly stood in his board, a determined look in his face as he rode the incoming wave that threw a lot of participants in.
you didn't know anything or surfing nor liked it. yet you were so immersed.
"choi jongho is still participating in small events like this?" you hear one of the viewers from behind you gossip, and you can't help but listen too.
"yeah, even though everyone literally hates him, he loves to see the faces of his opponents when they fail bringing him down," another voice answers, making you scrunch your face. "but a lot still respect him. still say that it'll be a good experiencing battling with an all-time winning surfer,"
"true, his winning streak still hasn't been defeated since he started surfing,"
you gasped in your seat, scoffing. he played you good. and you admit it, he planned it well.
before you know it, everyone was cheering and clapping- the competition was nearing its end as jongho and another participant rode the last wave, and the other one was thrown off.
jongho raises his fist in success, jumping off his board to dive in the deep ocean- helping the last participant to hop on his own board and swim to land.
jongho catches you squinting and he only shrugs, feigning ignorance as he shook his head to shake the water away. he gets his board to hold in his arm, and you take this opportunity to try and sneak away.
"hey, y/n! you're not fair!" you sense the playfulness in his tone, making you more embarrassed than you should. jongho runs up to you, still full of energy even after the literally- breathtaking competition. "where do you think you're going?" he catches up to you and walks backward in front of you, while you tried to avoid him.
you sigh, trying your best to walk away while the background chatter and cheers fade second by second, jongho just lovingly staring at you.
"come on! you're not fair!" he continued to throw a fit, his dolphin noises still heard by the people around.
"look who's talking- you didn't even say that you're an all-time winning surfer! an all-time!" you defend, pushing him lightly- but you can't help your heart beating abnormally.
"you didn't ask! come on.. you agreed!" your feet found itself going back to the crowded place, going in circles. "y/n... y/n... y/n.." he whined, every mention of your name getting louder and louder. "y/n! y/n.. y/n!" he continued, tugging at your arm.
every person that you walked by gave you a dirty look, jongho destroying their time of peace on the beach.
"y/n-"
"fine! now can you shut up?! everybody's staring at us." say under your breath, your hand unconsciously gripping on his wrist lightly to stop him.
jongho gives you a rather shy smile, and the crescents in his eyes appear again. he drags you to the tent, grabbing his things, more than excited to take you to a date- but not before getting your number and getting changed.
warnings ⋆ insecurities and thoughts of unreciprocated love, implied hate comments
prompts ⋆ 8 : did you miss me? — huh? i didn't even know you were gone // 48 : tell me you love me. it doesn't have to be the truth. i just... i need to hear you say it — prompts are from ficscafe's dialogue prompt event.
tagging @nilesig because it's kevin :]
TBZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION
Kevin’s scrolling through his phone while curled up under the blankets, his heart aching with every article that appeared under your shared hashtag with him. It was three am, and yet here he was, slowly letting himself deteriorate with every tweet he came across.
He knew the internet was a dark place and that everything said shouldn’t be believed, but he couldn’t help himself from checking the tweets from your fans, letting all their opinions about your relationship get into his head.
As per usual, he didn’t text you whenever he read these things. He never called nor told you in person, keeping all of this knowledge bottled up within himself. He didn’t need to ask for reassurance or confirmation. He thought he’d be just fine without it, convincing himself that he knew you truly loved him to the moon and back.
But even those who were made of steel could easily be broken down with the comments he was receiving, making him doubt his own reality and strengths.
“Kevin, are you in there?”
At the sound of your soft voice from the other side of the door, Kevin immediately placed his phone face down on his nightstand, watching the way you slowly opened the door.
“Oh, you’re awake,” you whispered, stepping into his room. He sat up in his spot with a nod when you made your way over to him, seating yourself on the edge of his bed. “Did you miss me?”
His features scrunched up at the obvious question. “Huh? I didn’t even know you were gone,” he snorted sarcastically, quick to pull you into his arms.
Your laugh tugged the corners of his lips upward, choosing to gently press his lips against your temple.
Though, when he noticed the genuine smile that adorned his lips, it quickly disappeared, his thoughts from earlier resurfacing.
He grew quiet, having you both sit in silence in the dark. You figured he was sleepy, letting him rest his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed while your arms snaked around his torso, holding him close.
“...Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
More minutes of silence passed, Kevin trying his absolute best to organize his thoughts only for them to end up even worse than they were before. He knew it wasn’t you, but the tweets itself that made your touch feel so foreign against him, becoming more and more insecure about your love towards him.
“Y/N?” he repeated, his voice almost going unnoticed if it wasn’t for the pure silence shared between you two.
Before you could answer him for the second time, his heart spoke over his mind. “Tell me you love me,” he muttered, refusing to open his eyes to look at you. “It doesn’t have to be the truth, it’s just—I just…I need to hear you say it.”
“...Kevin?”
“Please Y/N,” he croaked, his heartache returning.
“Kevin.”
It felt like the entire world had stopped when he heard the sternness in your tone, wishing that you could just say those three words so he could be put at ease.
But all thoughts left when you brought his face into the palm of your hands, letting his eyes meet yours. He watched the way they sparkled in the dark, completely falling apart inside when noticing the amount of sincerity that they held as your thumbs grazed against his cheeks.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” His eyes fell shut once again, leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder.
“It hurts me to hear you say that, you know?” you mumbled, stroking your fingers through his hair as you kept him close against you.
“Saying I love you too?”
“No, you dummy. I meant you telling me to say I love you whether I mean it or not. Is everything alright? Did something happen while I was away?”
When you received no answer, you let out a small sigh, knowing that you’ll get Kevin to speak another time.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you so much.”
“I know.”
“Kevin!”
He laughed, letting you push him down against the bed. He fought back by rolling you over, choosing to lie down on top of you with his chin resting on your chest. His smile returned, looking at you with all the love he could muster up within.
There may be a day when he does tell you everything; a day where he’s able to break down and cry in your arms, spilling about all that he’s read and the rumors that have been spread.
But right here, right now, he was here with you.
A/N ⋆ not much thought was put into this, but i'm somewhat slightly proud of it? hopefully others are able to feel what i wanted to portray
