Tumgik
#GOD now that I know it's airing tomorrow idk if I can wait that long. Ghghghgh
shima-draws · 2 years
Text
OH SHIT DIODE REUNION AIRS TOMORROW??
64 notes · View notes
neonovember · 10 months
Note
hiiii
could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!
pretty pleaseee and thank u
so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;
“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 
And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?
Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.
Golden Boy
part one of 2
warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety
a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈
p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later
Tumblr media
You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.
The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.
The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 
Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 
You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.
And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 
You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.
You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.
“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students
Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 
“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.
“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.
“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”
“I couldn't possible-”
“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.
You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.
You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.
Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.
But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.
He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.
You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 
You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.
He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers
“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.
His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands
“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.
“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.
“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips
“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.
“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.
“Bear..” You breathe out.
“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers
“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.
“Don’t say goodbye”
“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?
“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.
You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.
Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it
You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 
Time would age him into a memory forever.
Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 
*
“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.
You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.
You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.
Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.
*
It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.
“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.
“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.
“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 
She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.
She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.
“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.
“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.
You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?
“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone
“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.
“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.
“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.
“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.
“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.
You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.
“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.
“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.
“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”
“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.
Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.
The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 
What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?
You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.
There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.
Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.
Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 
You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 
And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.
“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.
“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 
“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.
“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”
“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration
“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.
“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently
“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.
“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.
“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.
And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.
“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”
You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.
It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.
You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 
But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 
Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 
You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness
“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”
“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.
“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.
“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile
“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.
“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.
“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.
Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.
You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.
“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.
Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?
Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.
“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.
You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently
“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie
No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 
You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.
“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.
Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.
And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 
Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.
You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.
The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.
You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 
You had to see your golden boy.
1K notes · View notes
wisteriagoesvroom · 17 days
Note
oh aso same anon that just word vomited in your asks. card shark max YES dealer georgie YES yes yes YES everything about that is so immensely good max just smirking and flirting with billionaires and god he really should be wearing a tie but he’s not and george can’t bring himself to complain
GAX ANONS GET A ROOM (AND BRING ME W U) OK
max should be wearing a tie… stop headcanoning things that are so delicious…. like don’t stop…. but really now….
what if. their shirts rumpled and max smells like cigars and velvet, them crashing against expensive furniture while they make out… george saying “screw the fucking potted plant i’ll have that replaced by tomorrow” and max just laughs in his mouth… max on his knees on the carpet talking smack about how “i can’t believe you it took you so long to catch on, i was trying to get your attention you know”… george going red and angry because he’s like “obviously i knew but i was waiting for you to slip up first”. max unbuckling george’s belt and shaking his head because “that’s your problem george. i never slip up”.
the city lights up beneath them, winking and teasing and full of promise. a whole city of torrid secrets outside to match the whisper that’s been building between them all this time. they could be anyone really, just two avatars with false identities and fake names. but they’ve chosen to share real ones.
they know nothing about each other. except george understands all of max’s tells by now, the way he shifts his shoulders before a feint, max’s drink orders - always a martini with something unexpected in it. and max understands that finding errant data in known patterns and fixing it is something george lives off of, breathes like air… so max takes his twisted game a little far because it’s been so long since someone truly challenged him that way and understood him at that level.
and this is a game too, the one between them, the cat and a mouse. maybe george could finally be winning at this one. he can bring information about max back to toto, limping with it between his teeth. he has him here.
except the city’s twinkling outside. it’s probably beautiful but george doesn’t really absorb any of it. maybe he’s been in the game too long now. because all he sees is max’s blue eyes, all supplicating, peering up in the half dark. terror strikes at the core of him, because this could be awful, and even worse, it could even close to real…
ANYWAY IDK WHERE ALL THAT CAME FROM BUT HERE’S WONDERWALL!!!!!! Y’ALL ARE CRAZY BUT SIKE IM CRAZY TOO!
14 notes · View notes
yunhsuanhuang · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
LOVE SONGS IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE | YH HUANG
With apologies to A.L.
When I'm seventeen, I put a picture of Loretta Lynn in the back of my clear phone case. With the same care my best friends take in decorating trading cards of Jungkook and Jisoo, I get a pair of tweezers and my most expensive stickers, and make an afternoon out of sticking little daisies all over a glossy black-and-white printout of Loretta in the 70's. In the picture she's leaning against a tree, her dark hair long and thick, smiling at the viewer with the same unshakable confidence she's always had.
The next day, I slap my phone face-down on the cafeteria table. My friends go oh-my-god and you-actually-did-it and wait-that's-kinda-cute. We propose swapping some of our cards–I get Minho, she gets Randy– until the conversation derails to exams and teachers and the presentation that's due on Wednesday but none of us have started.
Then it's two weeks later, and when I wake up, thirteen hours after Kentucky does, I read that Loretta Lynn has passed away. A clickbait news site uses the same picture for her obituary.
Sometimes I feel like everything I love is already gone and I just don't know it yet.
-
so why do you like country music, my friend Alex asks me once.
Alex is American, but the South is as alien a place to him as it is to me– he grew up in suburban New Hampshire, after all, in an impossibly huge house bursting with beach-themed paraphernalia. America, to him, is Dunkin' Donuts and perfectly manicured lawns and the pale foam of the Atlantic cutting itself open over and over again against the sharpness of the rocks.
I squint at my phone. It's late, and I'm probably supposed to be asleep by now, but I'm fifteen and the year is 2020 and time stopped mattering somewhere in the middle of March. It's not like I have school tomorrow, anyway.
I type and retype my message for a while. Then, because it sounds about as good a reason as any, I say, idk i just like the fiddles
It's true. I do like the fiddles, and the steel guitar and the autoharp and the banjos too– the joyful clatter of it, the melody so much like flight. During quarantine, I spend a lot of time lying on the bedroom floor with my headphones on, blaring bluegrass at ear-destroying volumes. Maybe if I play it loud enough, if I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I can transport myself into the real thing: a honky-tonk with wood-panelled walls, heat and whiskey in the air, some familiar rhythm reverberating through the floorboards. Sometimes I even imagine myself there in the crowd, singing along.
In 1957, a song called Geisha Girl by Hank Locklin topped the country and western charts. It's about this American guy who arrives in Japan, falls in love with the titular Japanese geisha, and leaves his American wife for her. Well-trodden ground, both in art and in reality– after World War 2 ended, tens of thousands of Japanese women married American men for love, for money or for everything in between. Locklin's Geisha Girl became so popular that a song was released in reply to it–Skeeter Davis' Lost to a Geisha Girl, in which Davis takes on the persona of the man’s lover back home, scorning her fickle-hearted husband. As is common in reply songs, lyrics from the original are changed to fit the new perspective:
Locklin sings, Have you ever heard a love song that you didn't understand / when you met her in a teahouse on the island of Japan?
Davis sings: Why a love song with no meaning makes you happy, I don't know / I've lost you to a geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow.
A song you don't understand.  A song with no meaning. A song in a language you don't speak. What's the difference, anyway?
In post-war Japan, a whole plethora of country music bands sprung up around the country, playing American hits for homesick soldiers: Tennessee Waltz, Lovesick Blues, Your Cheatin’ Heart.. The closer they were to the originals, the better. They'd bill themselves as the Japanese Hank Williams or John Denver or Patsy Cline. The catch? Some of these singers barely spoke English. painstakingly memorising each lyric until their L's and R's sounded just right. Yet, every Friday night they'd get up on that stage and sing songs they didn't understand about a country they'd never been to. 
Just a few years ago, America had been Japan's worst enemy. But here their sons and daughters were, singing American songs, working in American jobs, marrying American men. In the present day, you could almost argue that the tables’ve turned: middle-schoolers debate anime at the cafeteria table; red-blooded blue-collar workers drive Toyotas and ride Kawasakis.
One thing that's stayed the same, though– American boys, Japanese girls. Love songs in a foreign language. Kind of a funny thing.
For hundreds of years, the West has been fascinated by the geisha. In Puccini’s 1904 opera Madama Butterfly, fifteen-year-old Butterfly is making her living as one when she’s bought by an American soldier named Pinkerton. He marries her, knocks her up, then ditches her in Japan while he marries an American woman. The whole time, Butterfly’s left to pine for him, and when Pinkerton returns to Japan with his wife, Butterfly stabs herself so that her son will be able to live in America with his father. 
(Pinkerton, as you can probably tell, is kind of an ass.)
I keep thinking about Butterfly in that lonely, empty house in Japan, waiting for someone who didn’t love her back. I keep thinking about Alex: Alex and his horrible stupid round glasses and his old embarrassing love of Panic! at the Disco and his stupid cringe emojis, Alex who’s still the smartest person I know, Alex who was the first guy to ever pay attention to me. When I’m sixteen, I think about him almost constantly, a constant hum of obsession in the back of my head. I know I’m in love with him because that’s how all the songs go: Randy Travis declares that it’s deeper than the holler / stronger than the river; Deana Carter says it’s bittersweet / green on the vine; Keith Whitley confesses that it’s what I hear when you don’t say a thing.
Alex asks me, so what do you like about country music? And I don't know what to say to him, so I say nothing at all.
They read it in the tea leaves and it's written in the sand
I found love by the heart-full in a foreign distant land
Alex likes Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, the outlaws and the jailhouses and the pistols at the hip.  My classmates like the feminist murder ballads, where they think she did it but they just can't prove it, where afterwards the girls sell Tennessee ham and strawberry jam / and they don't lose any sleep at night. I personally have a fondness for the silly and unserious: Alan Jackson extolling the virtues of grape snow cones, George Strait selling me the Golden Gate.
In the end, though, what I end up listening to most are the old songs– the really old ones, all the way back to the dawn of recording, the Golden Age of the radio.  These songs, collected in the 1920s and 30s, are impressively varied in lyrical content: you’ve got the ones that are basically a soap opera stuffed into three minutes flat (Lorena, My Heart’s Tonight In Texas); the religious ones (Anchored in Love, Will the Circle Be Unbroken); the relatable ones (Give Me Your Love); the unrelatable ones (The Dying Soldier, No Depression In Heaven). What I like about them, I guess, is the familiar hiss of the vinyl, the way the lyrics are both specific and universal at once, their ability to make a time and a place that you’ve never been to before feel, inexplicably, like home.
Alex and I aren't anywhere near poor– his parents are both surgeons, and I spend my evenings trying not to fall asleep in increasingly expensive private lessons. But then again, neither were the Japanese country singers of the fifties and sixties, mainly college kids from elite families who could afford custom-made cowboy hats and genuine guitars. Hell, even the prince of Japan was said to be a country music fan in his youth. None of us have worked in the fields or in the mines, none of our parents have had to tell us here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down. We're the people Garth was referring to when he sang about that black-tie affair, those social graces, the ivory tower.
What does it mean to understand a song? How do you sing something and really, truly mean it?
When I'm sixteen, my fun fact on the first day of school is that I listen to country music. When I go out with my friends, I wear ankle-length denim skirts and lacy blouses and tie my hair in twin ponytails. I beg and beg them to listen to Loretta, to Dolly, to Patsy. In response, they buy me a Cowboy of the Month calendar and save me in their phones as "the horse girl".  In one inexplicable picture that we've since lost, I've got my face in my hands, trying to hide my laughter, as my friends gleefully blast a Fox News clip about Randy Travis' drunken escapades.
So maybe my taste in music is the most interesting thing about me. What else is there? I'm not very pretty, only sometimes funny, and, to my eternal embarrassment, not good at all at being Asian. If I was smarter– fine, if I was Alex, Alex with his books and essays and critical theory– I might say that I do everything I do because I don't want to be the whitest girl in a room full of Asians (lame, boring, suck-up) but the most interesting thing in a room full of white people (exotic, rare, unique). A geisha girl, dressed in Oriental style. 
Even so, I don't like to think that that's all there is to it. You can shrink the world down to words on a page, map out the complicated intersections of nations and culture and war that make up the popular imagination of America, call it pentatonic scales, the mixolydian mode. Of course there's value in that, I know– but all that stuff's a foreign language to me. You can try to explain why music sounds the way it does, but in the end you just have to hear it for yourself.
For a genre obsessed with authenticity, modern country music's chock-full of performers: Toby Keith singing We'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way, Hardy singing My small town is smaller than yours, Jason Aldean singing, I sit back and think about them good ol' days / The way we were raised and our southern ways.
A geisha's a performer, too, in a way. She trains her whole life to sing, to dance, to entertain. In yet another adaptation of Madama Butterfly, David Henry Hwang's play M. Butterfly, a Communist actor seduces a French man by pretending to be a woman for years. When the actor's finally caught, he's asked how he got away with it. He responds: Because when he finally met his fantasy woman, he wanted more than anything to believe that she was, in fact, a woman.
Don't tell this to anyone else, but when I curl my hair and put on lip-gloss and toddle around in heels, wondering if Alex would like what he sees, I feel like I'm a walking caricature in the shape of a girl. When I’m online with him I simper, I preen, I ask stupid questions just to keep him talking to me– and he likes it, or at least I really hope he does. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wonder what'll happen if I stop performing. I wonder if there’s anything left of me below the performance.
I used to worry that I fell in love with something that doesn't exist: the myth of America, the barbeques and the cornfields and the porches, the honky-tonk and the church social and the choir all singing, the cowboys on their vast, empty ranches. A place that's already gone, or else never existed at all– but what does that matter? An unreal place for an unreal girl. If everyone's performing, then no one is.
How much of this is true, then?
It's true as backroads and cold beer and pickup trucks. True as private jets and cowboy hats and exaggerated drawls. True as Nashville and Wallen and the CMAs. Which is to say, it's as true a story as you want it to be.
Tell the home folks that I'm happy, with someone that's true I know
I love a pretty geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow
In the months around my eighteenth birthday, my parents start screaming at each other. Suffice to say, they never really stop. I take up temporary residence in the school library instead, and spend my afternoons staring at maths textbooks while regretting every decision I’ve ever made. My exams are drawing closer. I’m sure I’ll fail them. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing does. I can’t bring myself to look at my future, I can’t, and yet like the long black train / coming down the line I know what’s going to happen when it hits me, and I know, I know– it’s not gonna be good. I start learning how to fall asleep to the background noise of things getting thrown. When my friends come over to study, they call the house beautiful. I guess it is.
On the way back from school, pressed into a corner of a sardine-packed bus, I put one earphone in and watch the sunset fall over the expressway, the heat turning the sky a gorgeous, deadly pink. Loretta Lynn sings: Well, I look out the window and what do I see? / The breeze is a-blowing the leaves from the trees / Everything is free, everything but me. The Chicks sing: She needs wide open spaces / Room to make her big mistakes. John Prine sings: Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery / make me a poster of an old rodeo / Just give me one thing that I can hold on to / To believe in this livin' is just a hard way to go.
Meanwhile, in my headphones, a thousand different stories unfold, familiar missives from some far-off place:  a son buries his parents. A wife kills her husband. Two childhood friends fall in love. A girl convinces her father to let her marry her boyfriend. A woman pins a runaway to a motel wall. Somebody calls his ex, even though he shouldn’t. A mother sells her daughter to an older man. A traveller gets on a train. The unfamiliar place names rush past. Amarillo, Charleston, Jackson, Cheyenne, Chattahoochee: evidence of an existence outside of calculus and grammar and pushing my desk against my door to block it. In my head I picture as if through a window some wide, sprawling prairie, some open starry sky, and think of Mary Oliver – so this is the world. I’m not in it. It’s beautiful.
(Meanwhile, online: it’s a different story.)
If it was a breakup, would it have been better? There's no shortage of breakup songs in country music, after all. Like, What right does she have to take you away / when for so long, you were mine? Like, I'm crazy for loving you / Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you Like, Nothing much for us to say / One last goodbye and you drove away.
Instead, it’s the stupidest, most mundane of reasons: we just stop talking. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. For me, I’m wrapped up in exams, family stuff, a clown car full of childhood friends crashing their way back into my life without warning; for him, he’s busy at Harvard, busy with his new friends and new projects and new– 
Okay. Fine. His new girlfriend.
I can’t blame him. I don’t have any right to. I still don’t know whether I actually loved him or I was just sixteen, lonely and looking to write myself into a song. Still, after I learn that he’s dating her, I fall into a haze of social-media stalking: I scroll through their Instagrams, their Twitters, anything that’ll tell me more about who he was, who they are. She’s cute, I’ll give her that, and they’re cute together, the kind of forever and ever, amen couple whose profiles are full of heart-shaped chocolates, of candid kisses and in-jokes I’ll never get to hear.
(A love song with no meaning. A language you don't speak.)
For weeks and weeks on end I dream of him, but the really funny thing is that even in these dreams he’s nothing but a spectre: texting me, calling me, writing long-winded letters in the mail.  The closest I ever get is this dream where I’m walking through his hometown, the one I looked up in Google Earth in a fit of desperation. It’s just like I thought it would be, every house gorgeous and stately and ancient, the trees barren but still grand. My hometown’s always been warm. It’s the one thing I have in common with the people in the songs, that overwhelmingly oppressive heat, the kind that sucks all the energy out of your bones. Even though Alex lives at the edge of America, Stephen King and sweaters country, in the dream it’s not cold at all– Georgia hot, hometown hot. As I run from house to house, ringing every doorbell, the roads seem to stretch out beneath my feet until the next door seems oceans and continents away. Nobody’s home. Nobody’s there. In the dream, I’m not surprised.
Sometimes I worry that everything I love is already gone, but I guess I knew that already. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love it. 
When I'm eighteen, my parents spend a small fortune on a family holiday to America, some last-ditch effort at holding the household together. I miss most of it, however, because the moment I step off the plane I come down with the worst cold I've ever had in my life. Thankfully, during the last couple of days I begin to feel a little bit more like a human being and not just a collection of symptoms, so I manage to go down with my family to the shore.
Maybe it's the ghost of the fever coming back to haunt me, or maybe it's just December, but the beach is bitingly cold, the evening light only just poking through the clouds. Standing there, I find myself thinking– predictably– of Alex. We haven't talked in months, at this point: the last thing I texted him was im in the us lol to which he responded Haha enjoy, and that's about it.
On some other shore, so far away we might still be in different countries, Alex is at Harvard writing essays about America– learning how to understand it, how to shape it, how to make it somewhere he can love without reservation. But I'm not him. I know, now, that I know nothing at all about America: not the blue and far-off one in my songs. but the real place, full of contradictions, land of guns and welfare and Walmart and the Free.
I keep going back to what Alex asked me when I was fifteen, when we barely knew each other: so why do you like country music? And it's only here, now, freezing in a down jacket on the California coast, that I finally have an answer for him.
I think: because every good country song is a love song in its own way.
I think: because country music is the only thing I've ever known how to love.
I think: I have stood and watched the sun rise from the waters of the sea / and I've wondered how much beauty in this cruel world can there be / My dreams are all worth dreaming and it makes my life worthwhile / to see my pretty geisha girl dressed in oriental style.
I think: does there really need to be a reason, A?
From somewhere behind me, I hear someone call my name. I turn. It's my mother yelling: “Come back to the car! It's getting cold!”
“Coming!” I yell back, and run to her.
Before I have to go back home, I manage to get my hands on a Shania Twain t-shirt, which honestly makes the entire trip worth it.
6 notes · View notes
Text
ok guys im back to being sane. b and i had such a good chat and of course i brought the madness upon myself like i always do. so, not dwelling, but i'm good now.
we've been talking on the phone every single day since we chatted about us and it has been pure bliss. i dont care about you texting me or snapchatting me (like, i do) but the actual phone conversations and facetimes are what i need. i know that now. so glad we figured that one out LOL.
but its like im back in the honeymoon phase again. not worrying about the future. just looking forward to our next phone call. it's so lovely.
and i booked my flights to london for xmas today!
and it's (basically) fall. my favourite time of year. i can feel the air has already changed. it's not so fucking hot.
and god i have been so fucking hot for you these past couple days since we had that nice talk. like i said, i'm right back to bliss. this is the new normal and i am so here for it. i can do this. we can do this. honestly, maybe i would move to london next year. idk. but either way, i really hope next year or beginning of 2025 we are in the same city. even if that means waiting until my lease is up in 2025. which honestly would be awful another year of seeing each other every 2-3 months. but we can do it. i fully, without doubt, believe we are in this for the long haul. i know i am.
i just can't fucking wait to see you. be in your presence. that's all i want. i want to be near you. smell you. touch you. kiss you so so so so so much. all the kisses. all the hugs. all the hand holding and PDA. idc. i want to be all over you constantly. i hope i dont get so fucked up i say i love you lol. i wanna save that for xmas. but who knows maybe you'll say it. and i do think you'd be the one to say it first. but honestly who knows, i'm growing. it took me 6 months with jake when i knew 4 months in. and i'm definitely not ready to say it yet. i need to spend more time with you. even though i like you so much, and i know i want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you, i'm not ready for i love you. i don't feel it yet. you know when you literally cannot not say it? when you're lying in bed with that person and all you can think about is telling them how much they rule your heart. that you can't breathe without them. it almost hurts not to say it. that's when i know. and i'm not there yet.
but maybe i'll feel that way in amsterdam, who knows. i'll see you on thursday being a little hungover and probably quite tired. but i'm gonna run to you like there's no tomorrow and wrap my arms around your neck and kiss you like i haven't seen you in years. and i won't want to let go. the world will stop. and it'll just be us. me and you. nothing and no one else.
it already feels that way to be honest. in a good way. not that you're my everything and life stands still without you. but that it's US and no one else.. idk if that makes sense. but like we're constantly connected. our lives are separate but together, even 7000km away from each other. idk, it's hard to explain. but i feel like you're always here in a way, always with me.
i really hope one of these days you surprise me and just come see me without telling me. even if it's for a few days. you show up at work or my doorstep. i would fucking die. i think i would start bawling LOL. literally would fucking die. fuck that would be so insane.
0 notes
nishisun · 3 years
Text
tomorrow can wait.
(dorm buddies special chapter) (reposted)
summary: it’s the last day of your honeymoon so you and tsukishima took advantage of it.
warnings: thigh riding, edging, unprotected sex, riding, fingering, oral (female receiving), dacryphilia (?), clit spanking (like once), idk if i’m missing anything
dorm buddies masterlist
Tumblr media
It had been a tedious day for you and tsukishima, you both tried to visit as many places in the foreign city before going back home tomorrow. it was your idea of course, tsukishima would rather stay at home and cuddle, but he couldn’t say no to you.
you’re finally back from the the touring, now inside your luxurious (and very well air-conditioned) hotel room. you both had just finished showering since it was pretty humid outside, now laying down comfortably on the king-sized bed with tsukishima scrolling through his phone and you laying on top of him.
let’s just say one thing lead to another.
now straddled on one of tsukishima’s thighs, rubbing yourself back and forth on him, all clothing discarded somewhere in the room. both of tsukishima’s hands were placed on each hip, controlling your movement, causing you to whine.
“look at you,” he breathed gently, “desperate to get off my thigh. you that needy?” he mutters, you barely registered anything he’d just said, you can’t even bother to ask because you were too focused on gaining your release. your face is heating up a lot, though. the way his voice rasp in your ear makes you even needier.
“c’mon y/n,” he whispers tenderly, mouth pressed against your ear, “i know you can give me a better answer. be a good girl and use your words.”
“hmm, yes, kei.” you gasp when he spanks your ass quickly and speeds up the movement of your hips. “hah! i’m close!”
he removed his hands from your hips, now leaning back with the support of his arms.
“why?” you nearly yell, you were so close to achieving your orgasm. why did he suddenly stop? “why’d you stop?”
he tilts his head to the side before getting up, causing you to stumble onto the floor. “lay down on your back.”
doing as he asks, or rather, demands, you lay on your back, legs spread perfectly where tsukishima can see your glistening pussy.
he wastes no time moving down your body, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. he carefully wraps his arms around your thighs, placing a kiss on each one. he looks at you for a brief moment, kissing every place except for the place that needs to be kissed the most, causing your hips to buck every now and then.
he finally stops teasing a licks a long stripe along your pussy forcing your head to throw back.
“hah!”
tsukishima’s fingers make their way up to one of your breasts, gently grazing his fingertips on your nipple as his tongue massages your clit, gently sucking the tiny bud.
“kei, please.” you sob. tsukishima looks up at you with a smirk on his face as he observes you writhing against him.
“please what, baby? what do you want? hm?” he unlatches his tongue from your clit, replacing them with his fingers that gently ghost over your slit.
“fingers, please.”
“aw,” he coos, resting his head on one of your thighs “you’re so polite”
“only for you,” you whine.
“where do you want them? want my fingers inside you?” he’s obviously taking advantage of how submissive you’ve gotten. he only knows you get like this when you’re extremely fucked out.
“Hah! Yes please!” your legs are visibly shaking, there’s tears falling from your face and it solely makes tsukishima harder. seeing the way you squirm under his hold makes him want to fuck you until you beg him to stop. he continues rubbing his pointer finger against your slit, causing your hips to buck against his hand.
“no.” his hand lands harshly on your clit, making you loudly sob in response. “if you do that again, i’m leaving you like this.”
“i’m so sorry!”
“it’s okay, baby. i know it was on accident. here, let me kiss it better, okay?”
you nod, as he immediately sucks your clit, he can feel your legs tensing under him, trying your absolute hardest not to buck your hips into him. you just don’t want to upset him.
“you’re doing so good. taking it like a champ, right baby? such a good girl.”
“y-yeah.”
he places one hand in your hip as he slowly plunges one finger inside your hole. he doesn’t move it, admiring the way your pussy flutters around it. you whimper when he finally moves his finger, curling it up just the way you like it.
“you needed this, didn’t you? it’s been a while since i’ve gotten to play with your pretty pussy. i’ve missed it.”
“mmm,” you let out a moan, “‘s missed you too.”
tsukishima chuckles, he loves the way your words slur when you’re like this, you probably don’t even notice how fucked out you sound.
it doesn’t take long before he adds another finger, stretching you out while his tongue laps your clit.
“God, ’m so close.” your hands grip his hair as you grind against his tongue. his fingers pump into you at the same speed, more forcibly making you gasp for air.
“i’m c-cumming!” one hand flies to your face quickly to cover your mouth, preventing yourself from loudly squealing as you violently cum on his fingers.
he slowly withdraws his fingers from your cunt, unlatching his mouth from your clit.
he leans toward to kiss you, tasting yourself, when he slides his tongue into your mouth. you pull away shyly, facing the opposite direction.
“please, don’t tell me you're shy.”
“do you ever shut up?”
“you’re one to talk. i’m pretty sure the people walking by our room could hear you.”
he chuckles when you instantly cover your face.
“i’m not done with you.”
tsukishima pulls his boxers off, placing one hand on each side of your head, moaning when you feel his tip come in contact with your clit.
you’re overwhelmed by his senses, his flushed skin on yours, the way his hair is now rough due to all the tugging you were doing earlier, and the way he softly nibbles on your neck.
you begin grinding your hips absentmindedly with the slight friction you’re receiving, causing tsukishima’s hands to instantly fly on one of your hips to stop you.
“needy, huh? and so disobedient.” he scoffs, squinting at you before sitting up. “c’mon. come ride me.” he leans on the head of the bed, patting his leg gently. you quickly nod, crawling over to him. he places both hands on your sides smirking.
“what? can’t do it?” he challenges.
“fuck you.”
you slowly sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning in unison at the contact. you firmly place both of your hands on the side of his shoulders as he gives an experimental thrust, causing you to yelp.
“don’t do that!”
“sorry, baby. i can’t help myself when it comes to you.”
once you’ve gotten used to his size, you slowly move up and down his shaft causing him to groan in pleasure.
“fuck.”
hearing tsukishima moan gave you the confidence to pick up the pace, grinding your hips and moving up and down as tsukishima’s hand moved to toy with your clit. he’s grunting with every move you make and your head falls back while you continue to ride him.
“you’re doing great, baby.”
“shut up. i’m trying to concentrate.”
he moves his other hand off your ass and brings it back down harshly, cause your whole body to jerk foward.
“Haah!”
he smirks when you don’t attempt to pick yourself up, laying on his chest as both his hands land on your hips thrusting into you at a brutal pace.
“shit,” he drags, “look at that, baby.” you don’t look, your mind is entirely too hazy, your head continues to rest on his shoulder. at this point you’ve gone limp.
he looks down to where the both of you are connected, slowing down his movements so he can watch the ring of your milky white cum on his cock get bigger in size every time he takes a thrust. after one thrust, he’s seemed to discover your special spot that makes you clench around him dangerously tight.
“shit, relax baby.” he groans, you let out a pathetic moan in response. “you really are a pillow princess, huh? making me carry out all the work. all bark, but no bite.” his lips ghost along your ear, you’re too fucked out to even form a sentence, the sole thing coming from your lips is a whimper.
“kei, i’m gonna cum.”
“yeah? you’ve been a good girl. cum for me.”
so you do.
your orgasm triggers his, he cums hard and deep inside you, his dick pulsing inside you. you fall on top of him, unable to move any of your muscles. tsukishima is quick to wrap his arms around you, both of you panting messes.
“you did so good. i love you.”
“hmmm,” you hum, “love you more.”
Tumblr media
— i put this on queue for 6:00pm and it posted at 2 something........... so i reposted
— if you get tagged again PLS FORGIVE ME🙏🙏 tumblr is acting up
— i was reading the last chapter of dorm buddies and then i realized i forgot abt yams😢
taglist: @m01k @sunasro @cvlliesstuff @appleciderslut @lilacnoodles @sinistersith @d0llpie @kac-chowsballs @resetrestartandreplay @satomiis @xo-lovelyreign-xo @idiot-juice-enthusiast @definitelynotbianca @my-weeb-ass @yourlocalbabybird @bokutosuwus @tadashisprout @daninaninani @r4twh0r3 @tazinva @neokawa @mirikusashes @helloshoutohere @goldenchaos7 @wingsofmydemons @fearlesskz @moonieho @denkis-slut @nikanikabitch @peteunderoos @itsjustsavs @lalisbitch @micheleinumaki @tsukkisbbyg @kuroosluv @immxnty @rory-cakes @thechaosoflonging @ish-scribbles @randomesk-yuku @emazzello @fivxss @morosis-haze @setterswife @rarr-com1452z @excujeemi @flamingosis
465 notes · View notes
tendous-socks · 3 years
Text
do you know, the muffin man?
platonic baji and chifuyu x reader 
title has nothing to do with the actual plot lol
not proof read
saber is my dog who passed when i was little and i missed him.
idk what's going on with the capitalization, 
a warm up of sorts ;)
“That's what a mommy’s boy would say” “Hey”
It was summer nights like these you'd never forget.
The crisp air that danced in your lungs when you took a deep, filling breath. Or the gathering of stars overhead that watched you as you made your way home. like your own personal guardian angels.
Lights flickered off one by one as the night grew older and the street lamps stood proudly in their stead. It was nights like these that made you feel at ease. So much so that you felt that saber, your fat, lovable mush of a dog would just love to go on a midnight walk.
Although midnight was… less than ideal, you didn't plan to stay so late at cram school, the janitor nearly kicked you out himself when he saw you so absorbed in your homework. the furrowed look etched upon his face when he asked why you were doing all that on a friday evening, when you should be home with your family, or out doing illegal things with your friends.
You gripped the straps on your backpack just tighter just thinking about it.
you'll just have to stay up and finish it later then, after talking your beloved golden out for his much deserved walk.
Rounding the corner, you spotted your apartment complex as it stood tall amongst the houses surrounding it. Almost out of place.
The lights illuminating the road almost like a pathway home as you continued on. Your silent footsteps duetting the chirping of cicadas.
Pesky little things liked to choir all night singing melodies of long before as they woke up from their decades of slumber.
my god you couldn't get home fast enough.
which wouldn't be a problem if you didn't hear an excruciatingly loud cackle from your complex.
and due to the light of the street lamps, if you could squint hard  enough you could see the silhouettes of two people sitting on the stairs that allowed you to go up…
damn it
this was gonna be weird 
as silent as a church mouse, you trudged your way over to them. Thoughts a second as you scratched your brain for something to say
something that you wont wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat regretting saying.
“uhm excuse me… i need to get up there so, yeah” you said, knuckles white as you felt your body heat up. 
You didn't bother to catch a full glance at them, only noting their black uniforms and that one had long, black hair and another had a yellow undercut.
“Oh yeah sure! Sorry about that..” You chuckled nervously as the yellow one scooched over a bit allowing you to squeeze your way up 
“Yeah no problem”
Taking the first few steps up, making sure not the disturb the two, you debated neither sprinting up or just quietly walking. Of course all plans were thrown out the window when another, raspier voice asked “why’re you out so late? “
Your foot stopped almost immediately.
What?
You gulped thickly. “ oh, no reason, i just had cram school and lost track of the time ya’ know?” No of course they don't know because they obviously don't go to your cram school !
Almost as if he had an epiphany, the longer haired boy shot up like a rocket as he turned to fully face you.
“ wait a minute- that means you're smart right?”
“Baji no-” “ hey you mind helping us with our midterms? I don't wanna fail them and make my mom cry again, wouldn't be right”
“Oi baji! Who said I needed help? I'm the one who's tutoring you!” the blondie argued back, voices echoing up around and through the staircase as you finally looked at the two of them.
chifuyu , who you now recognize as a delinquent and baji… who you've never seen in your life both apparently went to your school as you faintly recalled a morning announcement of both their names being called and summoned to the principal's office.
As well as the rumors that surrounded them both as you remembered the whispers upon whispers of gossip dripping from your friends mouth like sugar coated honey, too tempting not to take a bite out of.
All in all, they were trouble.
“Uh haha yeah, I'm sorry. I don't think I'll be of any use to you since I'm not the brightest of people, I'm sorry I have to go, have a good night though.”
And like cinderella you dashed off up stairs. Not even bothering to look back or hide your footsteps as you heard baji call and complain for you to come back and how chifuyu ruined his chances of passing his terms.
but of course, you were back downstairs… not exactly downstairs as you were on one of the landings that separated the floors, the soft fluff of sabers tail wagging excitedly as you held onto his blue, rope leash as you stared down the stairs wondering why exactly the two of them were  still. here.
You groaned internally as you took a step back, pulling lightly on his leash as you went to go back down the hall and into the safety of your apartment. Already thinking of excuses to tell your mom why you didn't take your baby for his daily walk.
Plop
…. 
You tugged on the leash a little harder, only to no avail as your lab stared up at you with a little smile..
This son of a bitch.
“C'mon saber lets go, I promise I'll take you on two walks tomorrow, so please let's just go” you whined, crouching down next to him as you went to softly push at his side. 
But like the anchor he is, he didn't budge.
“Please saber c’mon i wanna go home now lets go you fat little man” you moaned as you stole a glance towards the stairs, hoping to god you didn't alert the two.
But alas, you were met with a pair of blue and golden eyes staring at you curiously. Though the curiosity in their eyes didn’t overshadow the way they loomed over you and you little man, both of them blocking any whisper of light that tried to escape through as it haloed blindingly around them.
‘ oh it’s you- i didn't know you had a dog” baji said as a smile grew on his face as he slowly knelt down as your dog’s tail quickly went to whipping your side as you just gawked at him.
“Oi baji, you have to ask to pet him, er her. ``Chifuyu went to look at you, eyebrows raised as his friend simply ignored him and continued caressing your dog.
“do they bite?” was the only response you got from the black haired boy, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his smile stood pride on his beaming face.
“I do well, I guess it's fine. Don't worry about it, Saber, he’s really friendly and loves people, so he won't bite '' you spoke as chifuyu hesitantly went to start touching his golden fur, the dim midnight lighting doing him zero justice.
Though when you were nestled in your bed with your big ol’ security guard crushing your feet to the point where they'd both turn shades of blue and purples, you could really see how vibrant and golden his fur really was.
Smiling softly as the saber excitedly sniffed baji’s hand as the latter held a smile as big as the sun and eyes creased like a young boy who just got his favorite candy.
you noted how his other hand was scratching exactly where you knew your dog was ticklish, his leg going to scratch the same spot as he let out a low chuckle.
Quietly looking at chifuyu, you saw him quite engrossed in what baji was doing as he stared at where your dog was battling baji’s hand for scratching rights.
“ You really love him, yeah?”
“Hm? Pardon?”
“You’re dog…” “Saber”
“Yep. i can see it all over your face and his body that you spoil him like a little rich kid”
You laughed at his little comment as you went to play with his floppy ears “yep/ he’s my little spoiled brat who loves food and cuddles and will absolutely die if you don't take him on a walk or two during that day”
“ sorry about earlier, baji is just very… passionate about his grades” “ oh is that so?”
“ yeah, that and he doesn't want his mom to be upset about him being held back… again” With a light squeeze to the saber's ear, you took a risk as you opened your mouth.
“Oh, so he's a mama’s boy then?” “Exactly” “Hey I'm not! “
You and Chifuyu looked at each other and hummed in agreement.
64 notes · View notes
thefloorisbalaclava · 3 years
Note
Can you write something where you and Frankie are really good friends. You both like each other more then that but both scared to make the first move. It’s summer time and the two of you go to a baseball game and end up Kiss Cam and that’s where he makes his move. And idk just fluffy and cute
Pairing: Francisco 'Catfish' Morales x F!Reader
Warnings: An unexpected but welcome smooch
A/N: I know nothing about baseball so forgive me if I only briefly talk about the game itself. My main focus is on you and Frankie 💜
Also I love how much y’all love the friends to lovers trope with Frankie. The different types of scenarios y’all think up are amazing! Thank you for sending them in!
[Frankie masterlist]
---
"God, it's so hot," you complained, fanning yourself with a flyer someone handed you as you walked into the stadium.
"Here." Frankie took his cap off and put it on your head somewhat shielding your face from the glaring sun.
"But what about you?" you asked, lifting your chin so you could see him from under the bill of the cap.
"I'm fine. Promise." He smiled then turned back to the game and immediately jumped up, cheering and pumping his fists in the air. You jumped up too even though you had no idea what just happened. "You have no idea what just happened do you?" he asked before taking a sip of beer.
"Base hit?" You shrugged.
"Very good. See? You're learning," he said proudly. "Bases are loaded too so we'll probably get a home run next play." He looked at you. "That means-"
"There's someone from our team on each base," you finished before taking his cup of beer from him and drinking from it.
"Well, well, well." He grinned as you handed the cup back to him. "And did you just say our team?"
"Well, yeah, I cheer for whatever team you cheer for, remember?" you said and his heart swelled.
After a short time later during a gap in plays of the game, the jumbotron switched from the field to people in the crowd. You hadn't really been paying attention until everyone began cheering.
"Oh look..." Frankie said. "It's time for the kiss cam."
"I've heard of that. Wonder who they'll get." You watched the screen with a smile when suddenly you saw yourself up there. You and Frankie.
"Uh...Frankie..." You tapped his thigh hard repeatedly. "What do we do?" Everyone around you was cheering.
"Let's give 'em what they're waiting for," he suggested.
"What? I-"
Frankie kissed you and the crowd went wild. You knew that the camera didn't stay on the couple for too long but Frankie was still kissing you. And you were kissing him back. When he pulled away, his hand was still grabbing the back of your neck gently as if he didn’t want to let go. You looked at each other then smiled awkwardly.
"You two are so cute!" A lady sitting behind you said. "Usually I think those couples on the kiss cam are fake but I can tell you two are the real deal."
"You hear that, babe? The real deal." Frankie turned to the woman. "Thank you, ma'am." He kissed your hand and you felt even hotter than you had already with the sun beating down on you.
---
"We won," you said happily as you both walked back to his truck after the game. "We're gonna be stuck here in this parking lot forever, aren't we?"
"All part of the baseball game experience." He stopped before walking to your door to open it. "I got an idea."
"What's that?"
"Since we're gonna be stuck here we might as well do something with the time right?" He tapped the bed of the truck. "Hop on up." He held you by the waist and helped you up before he hopped up and sat beside you then laid down.
You laid down too. "What're we doing?"
"Just...chilling," he said. His fingers brushed against yours ever so softly. "Can I tell you something?"
"Anything."
"I liked kissing you," he confessed then turned his head to look at you. "I've always wanted to do that. I kinda wish our first kiss wasn't televised that way but...yeah..."
"I liked kissing you too..." Your hand was in his and your fingers were laced together.
"Question..."
"What's up?" You looked into his eyes.
"Can I kiss-"
"Yes!" You answered a little too quickly before kissing him before he could make his move. A group of guys walking by began whooping and cheering and you pulled away from Frankie to laugh and hide your face against his shirt. God, he smelled good.
"Yup. Thanks fellas." He gave them a thumbs up and you laughed even more. He sat up to look at the line of cars trying to get out of the stadium parking lot. "We're gonna be here a while."
"Well, at least we're stuck with each other."
"You're right." He looked at you and chuckled. "I can't believe you're still wearing my hat."
"Oh my god, I forgot you put it on me." You reached up to take it off and give it back but he stopped you.
"I...uh...I like how it looks on you. Keep it til I drop you off at home." He pulled on the bill.
"Okay. Hey, where's your phone?" He felt around his pockets to find it then handed it to you. You opened the camera and took a picture of yourself.
"What's that for?" he asked.
"Now you can always see me in your hat."
He took the phone from you and put it back in his pocket. "Smart." He held your hand again.
"Thanks for today."
"Would you wanna do this again?" he asked.
"I would do this with you every day if I could."
"The baseball games or...?"
"Spending time with you, Frankie. Just spending time with you." You snuggled closer and looked up at the night sky.
"I can come by tomorrow and teach you some more about baseball," he offered.
"Let's make a day out of it, hm?" you suggested.
"It's a date."
---
frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @limenlimon @66wookies @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow--3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @panda-angela @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @damerondjarin @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @triggerhappyflygirl @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @ladybeediva @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18
permanent taglist: @gallowsjoker @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascalz @blancatobarxoxo @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @cryptkeepersoul @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @babybelou @mandilflorian @aeryntheofficial @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @giselatropicana @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @ladytrashbird @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @clydes-hole @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @lovelyasfcuk @pedropasscals @talesfromtheguild @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @justanotherblonde23 @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @andriecastana @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @max--phillips @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @cyarikashakira @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya
i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here
268 notes · View notes
talas-starlight · 3 years
Text
Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader
SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.
(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe​ ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried
PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)
WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?
MASTERLIST: here!
Tumblr media
An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.
“Bless you.”
“Did you just bless yourself?”
You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”
“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.
You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.
“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.
“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.
“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.
Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.
“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.
He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”
With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.
You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”
At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.
“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”
Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”
Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?
Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”
As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.
Tumblr media
It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.
“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”
Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”
Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”
Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.
For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.
Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”
Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”
Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!
An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.
Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”
Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!
“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”
“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.
Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.
“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”
HOLY FUCK.
He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”
His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”
Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”
Tumblr media
Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.
If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.
Okay… lets do this.
Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.
“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.
“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?
Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”
“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”
“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?
A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.
You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”
Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”
Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”
And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.  
Tumblr media
“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.  
You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.
“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”
“Y/n.”
Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?
Romance at its finest.  
“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”
Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.
Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.
And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?
You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.
After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.
Clearly not your proudest moments.
Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”
Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.
Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“
Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.
You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.
Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.
Please don’t let this be a dream.
Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.  
Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.
It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.
Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.
Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.
“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”
Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”
A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.
Tumblr media
A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well? 
also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines​   🙈 🙈
Divider credit: @biskit-rising​
Tumblr media
496 notes · View notes
novelconcepts · 3 years
Note
Looking forward to whatever you`ve been writing on! I always wondered what Judy`s reaction would have been in `on the hunt (for who I’ve not yet become)` when they eventually told her. Like how did that go down. Or something to do with their story after the fic finished idk I just really loved that story.
“I can’t do this.”
Dani glances over her shoulder, frowning. They had been, until this moment, walking in more or less perfect tandem--Dani trying to whittle down her usual stride, Jamie moving at twice her natural clip--a steady flow of forward until just now. Now, with Jamie pulling up fast, her hand in Dani’s performing a sort of rubber-band-snap trick to keep them both on the pavement.
“What do you mean, you can’t do this?”
“This.” Jamie, grim-faced, gestures down the block. The house is still just out of sight, the car parked a truly ridiculous distance away. Jamie’s idea; If she sees us, she’d muttered, we won’t get a moment’s peace to figure it all out. 
“We have to tell her sometime,” Dani points out. “I mean--we do, don’t we?”
“Yes. No. Doesn’t have to be now, does it? Why don’t we just--just wait until we’re sending out wedding invitations. Or invitations to my funeral. Or never.”
Dani, despite herself, grins. It’s not that Jamie doesn’t get nervous--it’s just that Jamie doesn’t tend to show it. Not like she does, all sharp intake of breath and tight-clenched fists. Jamie’s nerves are quiet, smoothed over, tucked into the motion of hands which are never left idle. Jamie’s nerves are an unexpected kiss, a fumble of motion, the constant urge to put those feelings somewhere productive.
Now, she’s standing stock-still on this too-familiar street, one hand loose in Dani’s. Stock-still, looking for the first time in years like the child who had gazed balefully around a foreign living room. 
“Christ, she’s gonna fuckin’ disown me.”
She looks like she believes it, the only thing that keeps Dani from laughing outright at the idea. She believes it, and there’s a small, simple hurt on her face at the idea--her jaw held tight, her shoulders hunched. Dani presses a hand to her cheek, leaning in until their foreheads meet. 
“She won’t. You know she won’t. You’re her kid.”
“He’s her kid,” Jamie corrects, breath skidding across Dani’s lips in a way that--even at this inopportune moment--makes her pulse race. They’ve been building this beautiful thing together for a few months, and the heat of it never quite seems to fade. “I’m just the baggage.”
“Stop.” Dani kisses her once, softly. “Stop doing that. No falling back on bad habits, Jamie. She’ll be happy for us.”
She says it, and she means it, as if there isn’t a tiny spark of absolute terror kindled in her own heart at the idea of telling Judy O’Mara the truth. That Dani has not moved all the way to Vermont to share Jamie’s little apartment out of friendly camaraderie. That Dani has spent the last few months shaping a life around not only school and new friends, as she’s told Judy over the phone, but around learning just how well she and Jamie fit together. 
They do. They fit so well. Jamie’s bed--their bed--has become the kind of safe haven she hadn’t known she could find anywhere. Jamie’s fingers toying with the braid of a worn old bracelet is like coming home. 
“Come on.” She squeezes Jamie’s hand, kisses her again, lets the warmth of Jamie’s body steer her toward courage. “Like a band-aid, Jamie. Just rip it off.”
“Better idea,” Jamie says, though her legs are moving reluctantly forward again. “We go back to the hotel, I rip other things off instead, we forget this whole stupid idea.”
Tempting. “After. Come on, you haven’t seen her in how long?”
Jamie doesn’t answer. Hand in hand, they walk, and with every house they pass, a few more years seem to cycle back. They are twenty-three, newly bound, and they are seventeen, unaware of one another, and they are twelve, camped out under too-few stars. 
They are on the front step, Jamie’s hand falling away, tucking restlessly into the pocket of her jacket like she’s terrified to be seen gripping Dani’s. Dani presses the tips of her fingers lightly to Jamie’s back for a moment. 
“Deep breath. She loves you.”
“Gonna fuckin’ find out,” Jamie mutters. 
The door swinging open feels like a portal to the past, Judy O’Mara’s small frame somehow seeming as expansive as it had when Dani had been eight years old. Her face wears a few more lines these days, but wears them well--the pride of a woman who has loved hard, raised good kids, made a place for herself in the world that feels warm and right. Her eyes are wide, her mouth falling open in a delighted grin, even as Dani raises a hand in a small wave.
“Surprise?”
“You didn’t tell me you were coming to town!” She pushes through the storm door, hugging them both in a single sweeping motion that nearly knocks Jamie off the porch. “Oh my god, you should have called, I’d have made a feast!”
“It’s eleven in the morning,” Jamie mumbles, but Dani can see her smiling. The Judy O’Mara of her anxious mind can’t withstand, even for a second, the truth of the woman. 
“A feast for lunch, then,” Judy says without missing a beat. She leans back, takes Jamie by the chin, turns her head gently from side to side as though looking for new scars. “You look good. Healthy. You finally learn to cook?”
“She did,” Jamie replies, tilting her head toward Dani. “Sort of.”
“I make an excellent roasted salmon,” Dani proclaims, “and...very little else.”
“Well, come in! Come in, tell me--I mean, you have to tell me everything, right? Oh, I wish I’d known, I would have moved some things around, told Mike the game could wait.”
“Game?” Jamie seems frozen on the porch, her face unreadable. Judy is moving deeper into the living room, her back to them, and Dani takes the opportunity to slip an arm around Jamie’s waist to guide her over the threshold. 
“Baseball. You know how the boys are.”
Never interested in baseball, Dani thinks wryly, remembering all the times Eddie had complained that nothing ever happened in a sport that slow. 
“They won’t be back until tomorrow, they drove all the way to Indiana for the thing. Silly,” Judy is saying. “Come on, into the kitchen, I can at least get you girls something to drink.”
“That’s, uh. That’s all right, actually,” Dani says, following the familiar path back to the big kitchen table. It feels a little less expansive now, a little more worn; the wood is pocked in places, scuffed and weathered by decades of plate and fork and cups laid down without coaster. “We really just came to see you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet to say.” Judy makes a flapping gesture without looking, busy at the kettle. Jamie, grimacing, sinks slowly down in her old seat as if pulled by magnetic force. “But I know how much you must miss Edmund. Even after it all...you know. He still loves you so much, Danielle.”
"I’ll bet,” Jamie says in a low voice. Dani kicks her very gently under the table, amused when Jamie arches a brow that says oh, there will be consequences for that later. 
Can’t wait, she thinks with a dizzy, rather inappropriate burst of desire, her hand creeping over to rest on Jamie’s knee. There’s a stabilizing sensation to the act, reminding her in no uncertain terms: this is who she is now. This, not Eddie’s long-lost girl, but someone lucky enough to be so in love with Jamie, it sometimes puts an ache into her chest. 
“Not to say you should be getting back together,” Judy says, running steel straight up Dani’s spine. 
“You--you aren’t?”
“Oh, Danielle, it’s been such a long time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, you know, when it happened--but I always thought, in the back of my mind, how many childhood sweethearts really work out? You grow up. You grow apart. It’s natural.”
Jamie is grinning, biting the inside of her cheek, her knee beginning to shudder under Dani’s palm as her boot rocks against the tile floor. Dani squeezes harder.
“Well, that’s--that’s sort of the thing,” she says. “The reason we wanted to visit. We, um. We’ve--well--”
Judy is doing that mom thing she’s always admired, carrying three steaming mugs to the table without spilling a drop. She takes a seat across from them, beaming with every inch of her face, and Dani thinks, Love. This is what love looks like. This will be okay. 
“Judy, I--I wanted you to be the first to--I mean...”
There are words here, she knows with frustration. Words, not even so big or so complicated, if only she can pluck them from the air. Just say it, Dani. Just say--
“I never thanked you properly,” Jamie says. Her voice is impossibly steady, her face passive. Beneath the table, her leg has stopped its jittering dance at last. Judy looks surprised, Dani’s teeth clacking shut on her own stammering. 
“Why do you say that, dear?”
“’Cause it’s true,” Jamie says simply. “Never did. All those years of feedin’ me, keeping clothes on my back, never once making me feel...unwanted. Didn’t have to do that, Judy. No one was making you.”
Judy’s surprise is inching toward some emotion Dani can’t quite pinpoint--pleasure, that Jamie is saying this now, or pain, that Jamie thinks for a second she wasn’t worth it. “Sweetheart, of course I--I mean, you’re my kid. You know that.”
“Wasn’t, though,” Jamie says, almost earnestly. She’s leaning across the table, her hand moving to press Judy’s. “Was just some wee mess stumbling into your life, wasn’t I? And not always grateful, besides. I was--I don’t know what I was, half the time, but I was always lucky. So fucking--sorry, sorry, so utterly lucky. Was smart enough, at least, to figure that out.”
Judy’s cheeks are bright, her eyes brimming. She seems quite unable to speak, which Jamie seems to take as a relief. Her voice is rolling with surprising emotion, pushing a little faster than is normal, save for her most vulnerable moments. 
“I was lucky you took me in, and lucky your family was willing to open up for one more. And I was...really lucky for this one.” Her eyes cut to Dani, her foot curling beneath the table around Dani’s ankle. “You brought me to her. Don’t think I can ever be grateful enough for that.”
Judy looks almost puzzled, though she’s smiling. “I’m glad to hear it. I always had a feeling, you know. That...you were a good match, somehow. You balance out. It’s important, having a friend like that.”
Friend, thinks Dani with a mouth gone dry. Best friend, sure. Best friend I can’t imagine ever being without again. 
“You brought me to her,” Jamie repeats, almost stubborn, though she’s smiling. “I’ve never loved anyone more. Don’t think I could, given all the time in the world.”
The air seems to go still, the kitchen suddenly rife with small noises Dani’s never noticed before. The hum of the refrigerator. The trickle of water down the drain through a leaky faucet. The tap of Judy’s slipper against the floor. 
“Please say something,” Jamie says. “I don’t honestly know how to--”
“Eddie had an idea,” Judy says quietly. “When you were all still, gosh, back in high school. Long time ago, it seems now.”
Dani is nodding reflexively. Jamie isn’t moving at all.
“There was...a party? I think. Almost didn’t let you all go, it was against my best judgement, but--I figured, if you were together, what harm could come of it? And then Eddie came home early. Tried to pretend he wasn’t drunk, like he’s ever been good at lying, and wasn’t angry.”
Her voice is almost dreamy with memory, her back leaning against the chair as she raises the mug to her lips. She isn’t quite looking at either of them.
“I asked him where you two were. I remember being furious that he’d leave you alone. And I remember, very clearly, him saying something strange. Danielle doesn’t need me when she’s got her. I remember that so well. Danielle doesn’t need me when she’s got her.”
Jamie swallows audibly. Her hand is still resting on the table, inches from where Judy’s was not so long ago. She looks as though she’d very much like to give in to the oldest Jamie-urge in the book, to push up and bolt from the house without looking back. Dani traces her kneecap through her jeans, fingers pressing firmly until Jamie draws a deep breath. 
“I thought it was so odd,” Judy goes on. “That he’d say something like that. But he wasn’t in his right mind, and by the time I heard you sneak in--yes, Jamie, you were never as subtle as you thought, dear--he was fast asleep. No one said anything else about it, and I thought maybe you’d just gotten into a fight. Young love is like that. It can be so jealous.”
Not always, Dani thinks. If Jamie was jealous--and she’s sure she was, to a point; there are some feelings too big and too natural to ward off completely--she tried not to let it show. Jamie’s love has always been sunlight, reassuring and steady and there even when clouds roll in. 
“This is why,” Judy says, looking Dani in the eye. “Isn’t it?”
“Why he was mad?”
“Why you broke it off.” Her eyes never blink, never stray, her gaze as solid as the table. “You said it was because you didn’t love him the right way. I didn’t understand what that meant, but I knew you knew. Always knew your own mind, Danielle. It’s one of the things I’m most proud of.”
Dani breathes, trying hard to quell the dizzy rush in her head. “Judy, I--”
“She doesn’t think she needs anyone taking care of her,” Judy goes on, like she hasn’t spoken. “Never did, even when she barely came up to my hip. Always thought she had it handled.” Her gaze slides to Jamie’s face, her lips curving. “Isn’t that right?”
“Right,” Jamie says, sounding breathless. 
“But you took care of her anyway. Every step of the way. Wouldn’t listen to me or anyone else, but she always listened to you, didn’t she?”
“Right,” Dani says, a helpless grin working onto her face. This feels like a dream. This feels like a story not quite within her own control. Judy sighs, sips her tea. 
“Well. There’s nothing more to it, then, is there?”
“There isn’t?” Dani asks. Judy pushes up from the table, shaking her head. 
“I only have one question.”
The silence is too loud, punctuated by hum and drip and tap. The silence is going to drive her crazy, Dani believes, and drive Jamie to run, and this is all going to fall apart because she so desperately needed for Judy O’Mara to know them--
“Will you be staying the night?”
“What?” Jamie says, in the same moment Dani blurts, “Sorry?”
“Staying the night,” Judy repeats. “Jamie, we’ve converted your room into a sort of hodgepodge storage-guest combination, but you can just throw all those boxes into the hall. I don’t suppose you’ll be needing the sleeping bag.”
“I--” Jamie is shaking her head very slowly, as though trying to clear water from her ears. “I--no, we’ve got...a hotel...”
“Oh, that’s just silly.” Judy waves a dismissive hand. “You’ll take the room. No sense spending money, you already came home.”
Home, Dani thinks, her heart pounding. Home, here, in the O’Mara house--an address she’d never quite claimed, but the place where all her fondest memories live all the same. The place she grew up. The place that brought her to Jamie. 
“Have you stopped in to see your mother yet?” Judy asks. “I can invite her to dinner, if you like, I haven’t caught up with her in...months, now, probably--”
“You’re not,” Jamie begins, the words drying up before they can truly escape. Judy pauses at the sink, her hand tipping the remnants of her tea toward the drain. 
“Not what, sweetheart?”
That word, more than anything, seems to unbind Jamie’s calm. That word, a simple endearment spread back through their lives like so much love in two syllables, belonging to Judy and Judy alone. Jamie swallows again, presses a hand to her jaw, closes her eyes.
“Upset,” she croaks at last. Judy raises an eyebrow. 
“My kids are happy. What on earth would I be upset about?”
It’s not a good time, Dani thinks as Jamie slumps against the table in mingled relief and exhaustion, to say I told you so. Later, she thinks--when they’re nestled in a bed just a little too small for their adult frames, when Jamie is looking up at her with glazed delight, when they’re trying their best to make a kiss sound like silence. Maybe she’ll do it then. I told you she loved you. I told you. 
Now, watching Jamie slide from the table, move across the kitchen in a daze, slip her arms around Judy in a firm hug, Dani thinks--not for the first time--that family is as much a choice as it is a gift. That Judy has always chosen well. That Jamie has learned from the best. 
Told you, she thinks, feeling perfectly at peace. 
119 notes · View notes
kitkatd7 · 3 years
Text
Sinful Thoughts
Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader
Summary: you think Loki can read minds... What will it take to find out?
Warnings: fluff, lack If editing, cursing, mind-reading (is that a warning?) Implied smut, dirty thoughts, smut (shower smut)
Word Count: ? Idk it's short though.
A/N: idk I wrote this at midnight, bare with me please I haven't written in a few months.
Marvel Masterlist
Everything Masterlist
-------------------------
You had always imagined the God of mischief could read minds... But you could never prove it.
You had tried everything. You would wait until Loki had that "I am above you mortals, your words are as dull as Thor" look on his face and then you would think up the most ridiculous things. You thought of Thor at an amusement park trying to win the games and failing miserably - Loki hadn't even begun to smirk. You had imagined Tony streaking across the Stark grounds- nothing.
You had tried everything, until Loki left you with one choice.
You were in the kitchen making tea and talking to Thor about your dreaded training with Bucky the next day (you loved Bucky but keeping up with a super soldier was exhausting) when Loki came strolling in, his typical "I despise everyone" look perfectly in place, his eyes glinting with more interest than his other features portrayed.
As Loki slid onto a stool next to Thor and produced a book out of thin air you thought of the most ridiculous- and perhaps most desired- thing you could. You watched Loki's features closely, drowning out Thor's voice until it was no more than a rumble in the background, looking for the slightest hint that Loki was reading your thoughts. You imagined yourself riding him in his bed, his hands resting on your hips and yours on his chest, both of your breathing ragged from exertion and pleasure. Nothing.
Giving up you turned back to Thor, trying to remember what you had been talking about, and missing the slight smirk that played on Loki's lips.
----the next day----
Stepping into the shower you relax as the hot water soothes your overused muscles- Bucky wasn't messing around during training- No doubt you would have several bruises tomorrow.
You close your eyes, letting the water run over you as you let out a sigh.
"Hello, darling."
Whirling around you attempt to cover yourself from the owner of the silver tongue.
"Loki! Get out!!! I'm naked!" You screech, forcing your gaze to his face from where it had begun to wander.
"What a coincidence, so am I." He smirked, eyeing you unabashedly, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, caging you against the shower wall as the water ran over his lean shoulders and his arms rested about your head on the wall.
You sucked in a breath as you awaited what might happen. You couldn't deny you found Loki more than attractive. His wiry, muscular build had drawn your gaze on occasion; his sharp jawline adding a strong, sexy appeal to his other perfect features, his raven locks making you wonder how they would feel between your fingertips...
You were snapped from your rushing thoughts when Loki chuckled before you. "Now pet, that mind of yours is rather sinful... Quite inappropriate," he tutted softly.
"Says the God in my shower." Your surprised to hear yourself sass him, and apparently so is Loki. One of his eyebrows arches and a smirk touches his lips. "Well, I wouldn't be here if you hadn't had the ridiculous idea that I could read minds," he reminds you, his thigh finding it's way between your legs gently as his lips lowered to your pulse-point, his teeth delicately brushing the skin there.
You gasped lightly as you registered both his words and his touch.
"I knew it," you breath, your hands grasping his shoulders of their own accord, your back arching at the long desired touch.
Loki let out a sound between a chuckle and a growl, his teeth nipping their way down your throat and chest before attaching to your nipple, his slender digits pinching the other bud lightly, his opposite arm remaining against the wall.
You whined as his hands and lips attacked the delicate skin, your fingers pulling at his hair as he moaned against your skin.
"Loki... Please." You didn't know exactly what you were asking for- but he did.
You looked down in surprise as Loki dropped to his knees, his hair dampening as the water rolled over him. "I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of pet, and no man will ever fulfill your craving as I," he growled, his hands spreading your legs apart as a predatory glint filled his eyes.
---------------
Please let me know what you think!! It's been a while since I wrote anything ://
Permanent tag list: (OPEN)
@lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie @kind-sober-fullydressed @remibarnes22-deactivated2020110 @romainniesweetheart ​ @angelinathebook @malloryharris @itsunclebucky @teenagereadersciencenerd @chaotic-fae-queen @bugsbucky @cap-n-stuff @imma-new-soul @wonderlandfandomkingdom @fablesrose @coffeebooksandfandom
219 notes · View notes
pepprs · 2 years
Text
ok so…. i know all i have been doing is posting about moving for the last few days but i have another moving post. i don’t think im moving tomorrow or Thursday or friday or Saturday or even Sunday. i think I am moving Monday and i would like to formally request advice from my beloved mutuals on tumblr dot com (no pressure though) about whether or not i should set that into stone because the situation is complicated and still up in the air. it is literally FIVE DAYS it doesn’t even matter but it feels so big to me. lots of stuff under the cut
so basially the reason i would be moving on monday instead of just waiting another day is bc on thursday my dad is driving 8 hours to clean out his childhood home w his siblings bc my grandma died in sept and they’re selling the house 🤪✌️ and he will be gone until sunday (though im worried something will h*ppen either like. S*mething B*d or just that it’ll take them too long for him to make it home by Sunday). so my mom and sister are freaking out abt him being exposed to covid and being away from home where they can’t take care of him and stuff and if i go before he goes they will be even more worried bc they’ll have to worry abt me on top of him. plus my mom is very skittish abt covid so if i were to move back on like friday or something she wouldn’t be able to help me bring all my bags and stuff from the car to the door of the building. so yeah it’s kinda dumb but even still i personally am hesitating bc when my dad went to the memorial service in oct we were all basket cases and it’s gonna be worse this time bc he’ll be there for longer and rates are higher and stuff. and i remmeber how scared we all were and how much we cried and i don’t wanna put my family thru that and honestly? if something were to h*ppen to him god forbid? i wouldn’t be able to come home to be with my family bc my mom would freak out abt covid stuff. so there’s all that.
now for moving to campus… i am scared of covid and im scared of my roommates. those two things are always gonna be things im up against regardless of when i go back so beating myself up over delaying encountering them an extra 5 days is kinda ridiculous but i am scared to go back and im worried that deciding to stay is just feeding into my fears. also those of u who were here before august 2021 May Remember that i wanted to get out of this house with a vengeance and well… i think this time during the month and a half almost ive been here.. things have been better. my mom actually told me yesterday she has been making an effort to be better and ive noticed it and while things are still… pretty not great in some areas i do think things between us are better than they were last year. so things have not been that bad and honestly.. it’s not gonna sound like me but. i actually am not really in a hurry to go back to my life there. like all of a sudden i am perfectly content with being in a bubble where im safe and can be loud and wild and cozy and all of that. idk. but am i just saying that bc im scared of going back to growing my wings??????
anyways epic and sexy pros and cons list time
————————
IF I MOVED TOMORROW:
PROS: not missing anything at work, getting extra time with my colleague-besties who i adore very much especially on friday when everyone is in the office, having a decent and consistent space to do class and work from sooner, having more freedom with my habits sooner
CONS: being away from my family during a hard time, being in pain and causing them pain on top of pain that we know is going to happen this week, making them feel like my chosen family > my blood family for the 8364397448th time (it actually kinda is > though lawl), getting up early to finish packing bc today has been insane and im like 30% done but i still have to write 2 discussion posts by noon and im supposed to be moved in by 11 💔
IF I MOVED ON MONDAY:
PROS: being with my family during a hard time, not adding extra pain onto pain that will already be happening this week, proving that i do actually love / care abt them when i feel like they don’t think so, having more time to pack. also important to note is that i have a 10am on Friday that is in person and while it ends at 12 my brother is in class until 2:30. so i would get to go to my room and/or hang out in the office or do whatever.. i just can’t take off my mask to eat when im inside buildings / around other ppl. (if i was not coming home i would go back to doing what i was doing in the fall even though i will be more scared now bc of omicron: eating in private rooms (e.g. my bedroom, the 1-person private satellite office) and occasionally in the office with no more than 2 other ppl there at a time who are masked while im doing it. and eating in the office = pulling down my mask just long enough to get the food in my mouth not taking it off entirely the entire time i eat btw). also.. not to say this but not having to be quiet on my calls / meetings in order to respect my roommates who don’t like loud noises LOL
CONS: missing out on independent time i want and am paying for, bothering my roommates / RA by giving them a heads up that i am moving in later than expected for a THIRD time in the last 48 hours, missing banter / interesting moments in the office with my colleague-besties, having to go outside in the freezing cold to eat if im hungry, having to leave in the middle of a conversation when i really don’t want to go, feeding into my anxiety about going back to living independently, possibly disappointing friends who know im giving in to my family’s needs over my own when that is dangerous for me lawl 🤪
————
so yeah idk. pros and cons lists are hard bc there’s not an easy way to assign a weight to stuff but…… avoiding causing my family pain is a heavy one. so i am leaning towards that which means it’s basically a guarantee that that is what im doing bc if i wasn’t doing that i would be packing instead of writing this post since i was supposed to be there by 11 tmrrw! but idk i need advice i am overthinking this 🤕
6 notes · View notes
plaidbooks · 3 years
Text
Liquid Courage
A/N: Okay, so, this Sonny Carisi x reader fic was literally just an excuse to write drunk!Sonny. Idk how it got so long, but here we are. My headcanon is that Sonny is...touch starved is the wrong adjective. Affectionate? Touchy? Something. Hope y'all enjoy!
Tags: SVU talk, alcohol mention
Words: 3270
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @storiesofsvu @lv7867 @cycat4077 @barbasimp @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31
You were standing in the vast hallways of the courthouse, waiting to hear if your testimony helped at all. You were a Medical Examiner for the Manhattan NYPD, meaning you couldn’t tailor your statements like the detectives or victims could; you only spoke about the facts. And the facts were simple; with the injuries the deceased sustained, they died from asphyxiation. Could it have been caused by their husband wrapping a soft material around their throat? Of course. Could it also have been caused by the victim hanging herself in her room? Yes, it could. The same could be said for a thousand other scenarios. The difference was the husband was found to be abusive, and it was highly suspected that he killed her. But that was the detective’s job. Yours was to give them the facts. Did you want the sick fuck behind bars? Of course, but that wasn’t what you were called for—no opinions, just facts.
The SVU squad caught up with you quickly; Olivia, Amanda, Fin, and Sonny. You adverted your eyes when you saw Sonny; you had a crush on him, though you were only friends. At first, you were just the ME, hardly talking to him…or any of the squad, really, outside of work-related things. But he was charming and made it a point to talk to you every time he visited about, well, everything. Soon enough, you knew all about his family, and he knew about yours. He even invited you over for game night with the squad a few times.
“Jury back yet?” you asked as they got closer. You asked Olivia, but your eyes darted to Sonny a few times, your cheeks burning. He, of course, decided to stand right next to you, close enough to touch.
“Not yet; it’s only been a few hours—” Olivia was cut off as her phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen. “Never mind; jury’s back now.” You followed them to the courtroom, and congratulated them all, including Barba, when the jury came back with a guilty conviction.
“Celebratory drinks?” Amanda asked, grinning. Everyone agreed with that…except for you.
Sonny looked to you expectantly, but you shook your head. “I’d love to, but I’d rather decompress at home,” you replied, smiling sheepishly.
The detectives all nodded in understanding. Sonny patted your arm lightly, muttering a, “you’ll be missed. See ya on Monday,” before following his coworkers. You trailed behind before splitting from the group, heading home while they headed in the direction of Forlini’s.
*****************
You were at home, reading a book while soft piano music played softly on your speakers. You jumped as your phone rang. Looking at the id, you cocked an eyebrow. Sonny was calling you?
“Hey, Sonny; everything okay?” you asked as you answered.
There was loud music playing and voices before Sonny’s voice overpowered them all. “Heyyyy doll! I hope you’re doing okaaaay.”
Oh god, he was drunk. You let out a little huff of laughter, shaking your head. “I’m doing just fine, Son. How’re you?”
“I-I miss you,” he hiccupped, and your cheeks burned. “I wanted to l-let you know….” He pulled away from the phone for a moment, talking to someone before he was back. “I app-appreciate all you do, and I-I looooove youuuu~.” He dragged out the last two words, saying them in a sing-song voice.
Your heart leapt into your throat. He was obviously drunk; he didn’t mean it like that…or did he? “Do you need me to come pick you up?” you asked, concerned.
Sonny’s words all melded together and you couldn’t understand what he was saying anymore.
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Stay. There,” you ordered, pulling your shoes on. At least he was with his squad. He slurred something else unintelligible before hanging up, and you rolled your eyes, a small grin on your lips.
********************
You made it to Forlini’s in record time, glancing around at the patrons, looking for the lanky detective. He wasn’t too hard to find; in the corner of the bar was the whole SVU squad, and Sonny was loud. He was laughing at something, pounding his hand on the table, his head thrown back as he guffawed. Picking out a path towards him, you weaved through the crowded bar feeling completely out-of-place in your sweats and loose shirt.
Once close enough, you reached a hand out, laying your hand on Sonny’s elbow. He jumped, whipping around to look at you and almost falling off his seat in the process. His cheeks were rosy, and he had the widest grin on his face as his watery eyes focused on you.
“You came! Can I b-buy you a drink?” Sonny asked loudly, his voice carrying over the rest of the cacophony in the bar.
You gave him a soft smile. “Actually, I think it’s time to take you home, Son,” you replied. The rest of the squad seemed to be in various states of sober or tipsy, but Sonny was obviously the one that was gone. He didn’t object as you helped him stand, waving a goodbye to the rest of the squad, and pulling him through the bar.
“Guys! The hot ME is taking me home!” Sonny yelled, and you ducked your head, your face on fire. Other drunks in the bar congratulated him, and you as well, as you made your way through the throng. You just wrapped an arm tighter around Sonny’s waist, pulling him towards the exit.
Once outside, Sonny wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you close to him. “Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked, resting his head on top of yours.
“You may have mentioned it on the phone,” you commented, trying to drag him towards your car.
Sonny was having trouble walking straight, mostly because he was trying to wrap himself around you. “I mean it, d-doll. You’re so fuckin’ smm-art and pretty and funny and cute and beautiful…” he trailed off, leaning almost completely on you now, his weight crushing you.
“Uh huh,” you replied, smiling despite yourself. You knew he was only saying this because he was drunk; sober-Sonny would never be like this. It left a pang of sadness in your heart, because you really did like him. But come tomorrow, he’d remember none of it, and life would go back to normal.
You made it to your car and deposited him in the passenger seat, buckling him in. Sonny attempted to get out, but the seatbelt held him down. He seemed confused, pulling at the material across his chest as you slid into the driver’s seat. You cracked his window so that he’d get some fresh air and pulled away from the curb. You knew where he lived, so you headed in that direction.
“Love you,” Sonny muttered, his eyes glued to your face. You smiled, ignoring the fluttering those words made burst forth. Only in your wildest dreams did Sonny say those words to you, but he’s said it so much tonight...at least it would fuel some late night fantasies. You jumped as his hand connected gently with your head. You were about to ask what he was doing until you realized; he was petting your hair.
“So soft…” he breathed, his fingers twining through the strands of hair. Your breathing hitched slightly, and you tried to focus on the road.
“Is there a reason you’re petting me?” you asked, chuckling lightly.
“Cause your hair is so soft, so pretty…feels so nice,” Sonny replied. You were thankfully getting close to his place when you noticed him moving; it seemed like he was trying to fight the seatbelt, but couldn’t quite figure it out.
“What are you doing?” you asked, alarmed.
Sonny grunted against the impossible belt holding him down. “Wanna cuddle. Wanna hold you.” He said it almost angrily, but that was directed more at the damned seatbelt holding him from you.
“Sonny, stop struggling; wait until we’re not in the car,” you instructed. He let out a huff of defeat, sinking into the seat grumpily before dissolving into giggles.
You pulled up in front of his apartment complex shortly after. As you got out and came around to his side, you let out a chuckle, watching Sonny fight and lose against the seatbelt. You hurried to open his door, leaning across him, and clicking his seatbelt off.
“Freedom!” Sonny cheered as you helped him out of the car. Though, now free of the car, nothing stopped him from draping his body over yours, leaning over your back.
“Sonny, this isn’t helpful—” you started before he cut you off.
“Mmm cuddles,” he murmured, his voice directly in your ear, slurring even worse than before.
You struggled under his weight as he forced more of himself on you, wrapping his arms completely around your torso and arms, leaning almost completely on top of you, forcing you to bend forwards under his weight. “S-Sonny…I need you to walk with me, man,” you huffed, trying to take the few steps into his building.
“Can we cuddle, though?” Sonny asked, wrapping a leg around your waist.
You had to stop walking, spreading your legs so that he didn’t completely throw you off balance. “Oh my god; yes, we can cuddle. But let’s get inside first.”
Reluctantly, he peeled himself off you…mostly. He kept his arms around you as you tried to hurry to his door, before he changed his mind and rewrapped around you.
“Keys?” you asked as you made it to his apartment.
Sonny seemed barely conscious at this point, leaning fully on you again, but from the side this time. You had to lean partly against the wall to keep from falling. “You’rrrrre prettyyy,” he hummed in your ear.
“Yes, thank you. Where’s your keys?” you repeated. Sonny swayed on his feet, blinking slowly, showing no signs of hearing you. You sighed, reaching into his pockets, searching for any kind of jingling. You found his phone and wallet easily enough before your fingers closed around his keyring.
As you pulled your hand out of his pants pocket, he said in a low voice, “I like when you touch me.”
Heat rushed to your face, and you ignored him, as well as the rush of arousal you felt, and unlocked the door. “Come on,” you grunted, dragging him over the threshold. You half led, half carried Sonny back to his bedroom. Once his bed was in sight, Sonny extracted himself from you, moving to collapse onto the mattress, face-first and laying diagonally across it, legs dangling off the side. Bending down, you were able to get his shoes off quickly before he rolled onto his back.
He reached out for you, muttering, “cuddles” over and over again as you shook your head at him.
“Hold on, Son. Let me go to the bathroom really quick,” you lied. You had no intentions of cuddling with him, nervous about what he may do. Sonny was a good guy, but alcohol was a hell of a drug.
He nodded to you, letting his arms fall to his sides. You quickly leaned over him, loosening his tie and pulling it off. “Be right back,” you said, leaving his room and closing the door behind you.
Searching in his kitchen, you quickly found glasses. You filled one with water before heading back towards his room. You debated finding food for him, but water seemed more important right now. That is, until you opened his bedroom door and found him passed out. Sighing once more, you deposited the glass on his nightstand, then reached into his pockets, pulling out his wallet and phone. His charger was laying on the floor by the nightstand, and you plugged in his phone while he snored loudly. Then, as gently as you could, you lifted his legs and pulled them to the bed, angling him so that his head was on the pillows…more or less.
Shaking your head slightly and fighting a smile, you crept out of his room, letting him sleep it off. You wondered if you should just go home, but you were worried about him; he had gotten pretty drunk. Making your way back to the kitchen, you glanced in his fridge. He kept it well-stocked, and you vaguely remembered him telling you he liked to cook. Nodding to yourself, you went to the couch in the living room, making yourself comfortable, and falling asleep quickly.
********************
You awoke early in the morning. The apartment was silent, and you stretched before getting up. After splashing some water in your face while in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen. You took out the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, cheese, and salsa you had found the previous night. You weren’t a whiz in the kitchen, but you could make an omelet easily enough. Searching through cabinets for pans, you also found a cheese grater. You glanced at the potatoes in a basket on the counter, deciding to add some hash browns to the mix. Greasy food was the best for hangovers. Finding the pans, you started grating the potatoes, letting them cook a bit before starting on the meat.
There was a beep behind you, and you jumped before you realized it was the automatic coffeemaker. You searched until you found mugs, then made yourself a cup as you cooked. Once the meat and potatoes were done, you turned everything to low, waiting for Sonny to wake up. Eggs don’t take much to cook, and you could make them as he showered or drank coffee.
As if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear Sonny shuffling about in his room. The door slowly opened, and a very disgruntled-looking Sonny stumbled out of his room. Since waking, he had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, making your cheeks burn. His eyes were barely open, and his hair hung limply on his face as he rubbed his head.
When he caught you in his kitchen, he froze, eyes going wide. “Wh-what are you doing here?” he muttered. His eyes traveled over the various pans on the stove before coming back to your face. “Wait…please tell me we didn’t….”
“N-no! I just gave you a ride home last night, then slept on your couch to make sure you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning,” you explained. Though, you were slightly disappointed with how upset he seemed about potentially sleeping with you.
Sonny nodded, moving to make himself a cup of coffee. “And the breakfast is just a bonus?”
“I figured you’d need the help. You were pretty…fucked up last night,” you smiled, and he groaned.
“Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing,” he mumbled as you cracked the eggs into the pan.
You salted and peppered the eggs, then moved to poke at the hash browns, making sure they weren’t sticking to the pan. “I wasn’t there at the bar, so you’d have to ask your squad for that story. But, uh, I did watch you lose a fight to a seatbelt.”
“Fucking fantastic,” he replied, letting out a soft chuckle. He came over to you as you flipped the eggs, watching you work. “That it? Nothing else? Because I did wake up fully clothed, minus shoes and a tie.”
Your cheeks burned and you kept your eyes on the eggs as you put the mushrooms on top. “I’ve learned you really want cuddles when drunk…and that you think my hair is soft.” You didn’t dare look at him as you sprinkled some cheese on the mushrooms, then folded half the eggs on top of it. You plated the omelet, pouring some salsa on top and adding more cheese. “The tie just seemed like a safety precaution.”
You kept your eyes on the food, even as you felt Sonny staring at you. Once you had scooped hash browns, sausage, and bacon onto the plate, you chanced a glance at him, offering him the plate. Sonny’s eyes bored into yours, holding you there for what seemed like forever before he took the plate from you.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
You gave him a small smile. “Anytime,” you breathed back. Sonny moved to a free spot on the counter, taking small bites of food. But his eyes went wide as he tasted it, and he started shoveling food into his mouth. Grinning, you scooped the rest of the food onto another plate before moving to soak the pans.
You ate in silence, pausing only to drink coffee. Having less food, you finished first, then moved to start doing the dishes.
“No, no. You made this amazing food; I’ll do dishes,” Sonny said, swallowing hard.
You shook your head. “It’s fine, Son; I made a mess of your kitchen. I’ll clean it—”
“Like hell you will. First, you made sure I made it home safe. Second, you stayed the night to make sure I didn’t die. And third, you made me the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time—I swear my hangover is gone. You are not doing dishes.”
You smirked. “Okay fine, you win.” Instead, you finished your coffee, rinsing the mug out in the sink. Sonny continued eating, and you felt awkward standing in his kitchen. “So…I guess I’ll see you at work?” you said as a way of goodbye. You grabbed your phone off the counter, slowly making your way to his door.
“Wait!” Sonny called out, following you out of the kitchen. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he shifted on his feet. “I-I feel like I should give you a better thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
“It’s fine, Sonny, really. That’s what friends are for, right?” you shrugged.
Sonny seemed to fight with himself for a moment before he muttered, barely audible for you to hear, “what if…I don’t want to be just friends?”
“What?” you asked, your heart racing. He wasn’t drunk anymore, and if what he was saying was true….
He came closer to you. “What if I don’t want to be just friends?” he repeated. “It seems like…drunk me was at least trying to flirt with you…. Something sober me is too damn nervous to even attempt.” When you still didn’t respond, he let out a huff. “What I mean is, I-I like you…a lot. And I’d, uh, I’d like to get to know you better?”
“You’re not still drunk, are you?” you asked, half-joking. Sonny shook his head, eyes wide. “Okay, good. Because you kinda did profess your love to me last night…but I was afraid that it was only because you were drunk.”
Sonny ran a hand over his face. “Did I really? I’m…so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”
“No, it’s fine, really. I, uh…I’ve liked you for a while now. I was just worried that it was your drunk self that liked me, and not, uh, you,” you explained.
Sonny smiled sarcastically. “Drunk me says what sober me is thinking…most of the time.” He rubbed his neck anxiously. “So, uh, can we go on a date? No alcohol, I promise.”
You chuckled. “I’d like that. You obviously have my number—call me?”
“Of course. Let me clean up here—myself as well as the sink—and then I’ll give you a call,” Sonny grinned genuinely this time, and you melted.
“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.” You made your way out of his apartment, giving him a small wave. As he closed the door behind you, you broke out in a wide grin, excited for a date with Detective Carisi.
105 notes · View notes
liv-laugh-die · 3 years
Text
||Admiring|| 💖Miya Osamu x Gn!reader
trope: strangers meeting in the park (ik its random bear with me😭)
warnings: its not proofread all the way through (im sorry im tired), so theres probably grammatical errors or typos but other than that none
genre: fluff pretty much just sappy stuff
pairing/s: osamu x gn!reader
wc: about 2.5k
a/n: oh my god idk where i came up with this but i think its cute so :p i hope you enjoy!!
You stared at your blank computer screen, hope of finishing your assignment before its due date at midnight slowly vanishing. 
     The clock on your desk read 11:27pm, the green lines wavering in your vision as your eyes slowly drooped, trying to drag you into the depths of slumber. You wanted to sleep, you really did, but you knew there was no way you could give up writing your essay, even now, knowing you weren’t going to submit it on time, because you would stress too much about it if you didn’t at least try to complete it before the due date. 
     Pushing yourself away from your desk, your chair squeaking against the floor ever so slightly in your dead silent dorm room, you tried to think of some excuse that your professor might believe. You doubted there was anything you could think of, but hey, your professor was better than what your roommates’ had mentioned theirs being, and you were grateful for that. Maybe you could tell him that you were exhausted from working extra hours at your job since you had had to cover your coworker’s shift and that’s why you couldn’t complete your essay on time? Or, maybe you could get away with a simple “I was lacking interest in the material, and couldn’t understand anything, and I didn’t ask for help because I knew that you are such a busy man trying to do so many things at once. Another hopeless near college drop-out wasn’t something I thought you needed on your hands.”
     ....Maybe not the latter.
    You sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair, practically feeling it screaming at you to wash it. You barely had time in the mornings to take showers anymore, and when you took them at night, you never had the strength to wash your hair, always knowing that putting a hat on overtop or throwing on your hoodie would make it seem fine on the outside, and that was good enough for you. As long as you looked at least decent and somewhat presentable.
    Your dorm room was fairly small, like every other one, but the lack of furniture made it seem larger than the rest. Nothing more than you and your roommate’s joint desk, the mini fridge in the corner, and the beds filled the space. You almost tripped over your backpack lying next to the bunk bed pushed up against the wall, falling to what would’ve been inches away from your roommate’s sleeping body.
    In an attempt not to disturb them, you tiptoed through the room, stepping over the occasional heap of clothes or homework, until you reached the bathroom. You fumbled over the door knob before almost tumbling into the small space. Glancing in the mirror, you didn’t fail to notice your messy hair, the dark circles tracing beneath your eyes, or the way you looked like you were seconds away from passing out. The sound of running water rang in your ears as you turned on the sink faucet, cupping your hands together and bringing your face down to meet them, rubbing the cold water all over you in an attempt to keep you awake for just a few moments longer.
     Your eyes returned back to the mirror as you sighed at your dripping wet face. There was no way possible you were going to finish your assignment on time. You knew it, your roommate knew it before they passed out, and you had noticed your professor’s wary glance this morning in class as a sign that he knew it too.
     An idea sprang into your head, part of you dreading the optimism that seemed to seep through your brain slowly. You didn’t feel like being energetic right now.
---an hour later---
You weren’t exactly sure how, when, or why you decided it would be a good idea to take a shower (you did end up washing your hair, thank god), get your things together in your bag, and head to the off-campus coffee shop (since the one on-campus had already closed), but you found yourself with a warm cup of coffee in hand as you exited the shop, the cold midnight air enveloping you in an unwelcome embrace.
     You shivered. The only thing your spontaneous brain had forgotten had to have been your jacket, the one thing your normal brain would’ve remembered if it weren’t already past midnight and if you weren’t majorly sleep-deprived.
     You most certainly weren’t done with your essay yet, nor was there any possible way for you to finish it on time since it was now approximately thirteen minutes past the due time, but you let yourself breathe for now.
     There weren’t many people out at this hour, and it made the usual busy city streets seemed like a ghost town. There were a few restaurants still open as you strolled along the sidewalk, their lights responsible for illuminating more than half the area in front of you. You passed by an onigiri shop your friend had recommended to you, but you just weren’t that hungry. Most nights, you’d kill for a midnight snack, but your single shot of espresso coffee was satisfying your needs for now.
     You decided to head to the park after seeing a rabbit hop its way across the vacant street and into the bushes in that direction. The fresh air was nice and cool against your dry and croaky lungs, and your ears needed a different sound than that of you miserably attempting to touch type quickly, your fingers rapping against the keyboard with vigor.
     A stream nearby flowed softly, the dripping of the water against the rocks complimenting the noise of the crickets chirping in sync just downstream. Your footsteps cut through the grass slowly, not bothering to follow the stone path. The park was a nice change of scenery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here by yourself in peace, it was always you and your rambunctious friends who ran through every now and then just to see the dogs running through the sprinklers, or the occasional poor cat whose owner dragged them out into the daylight for exercise. This was peaceful, though, and you appreciated that.
     A few more rabbits crossed your path, giving you that wide-eyed, side glance before darting off into the darkness, outside the reach of the lampposts emitting light. The sound of the stream soon faded out as you continued to walk through the park, sipping your coffee every so often. The warmth from your cup was soon dying out, and you figured you’d have to start walking back to your university sooner or later. Maybe you could crash at your friend’s house who lived just off campus, though you had forgotten your phone back at your dorm and had no alarm, no laptop to complete your work, and no contact with anyone else who might worry where you’d be. You had really no choice but to trek back to your dorm in the darkness, cutting your peaceful visit to the park short.
     You let yourself have a few more minutes of stress free relaxing as you sat down on a bench just before the ground let out into a downhill slope overlooking the rest of the city below. The trees around you swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, you thought it was the wind talking, and not an actual human being who had somehow made his way beside you without gathering your attention.
     “Didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour,” the stranger mumbled. You glanced up, almost startled that, indeed, someone else was actually awake and strolling through the park.
     The boy couldn’t have been much older than you were, maybe the same age. He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, the wind tousled his dark hair ever so slightly, and the moonlight played along, illuminating his face just so you could actually see how gorgeous he was.
     You cleared your throat, averting your eyes back to the ground as you shifted over, creating more space on the bench in case he wanted to sit down beside you. “I decided to actually take care of myself for once and give myself some time to breathe before facing the wrath of my professor tomorrow when he finds out I didn’t turn in my essay on time.” You let out a low, breathy chuckle, not exactly sure of what would happen next.
     The guy sat down on the bench next to you, though he made sure to give you some personal space, which you were grateful for. He laughed along with you a bit, and you could tell just from his tone just how tired he really was.
     You gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “So, what the stressful thing that brought you here in the middle of the night?”
     He smiled half-heartedly, eyes trained on the moon. “Work stuff. Jus’ been busy, I guess.” He shrugged. 
     You waited for him to continue on, but he stayed silent. You didn’t complain, though. Wasn’t your whole reason for coming out here in the dead of the night for some quiet? Plus, it wasn’t awkward either. You were comfortable sitting next to this stranger.
     “What do you do for work?” You waited a little longer than necessary to ask, but he didn’t seem to mind the long pause.
     “I own a restaurant a few blocks away. I love the job, it’s just tiring havin’ to deal with rude customers like my brother who won’t get the hint and get out sometimes. I got into an argument with him earlier today and he just wouldn’t shut it.” He rolled his eyes and took his hands out of his pockets, making eye contact with you as he went on about his day, and you couldn’t help but smile at his passion. “The guy thinks he can just walk in when I’m working with a new employee and just act like he runs the place! Quite stupid if you ask me. Such a jerk, he is. Thinkin’ about just banning him from the place, really.” 
     You snorted. “He really bugs you that much, huh?”
     The guy smirked at your laugh, admiring it, though you would never had guess that was what flashed across his face in a million years. He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I love ‘im ‘cause he’s my twin and my best friend, but he really knows how to annoy the hell outta me.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just get a sign in the window that says “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and cross it out and write my brother’s name instead,” he reasoned, and the pondering look in his eyes made you wonder if he was actually considering the idea.
     You smiled. “You’re funny.”
     “You say that like ya weren’t expectin’ it.”
     A laugh made its way out your lips. “Well, when you’re approached by a stranger in the middle of the night you sort of expect the worst.”
     The guy glanced off in the distance, away from you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry, didn’t think of that comin’ off that way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m funny then, and not some creep, eh?”
     You nodded, the smile on your face not fading as he changed topics.
     “So, what’s your essay on? Any way I can help ya finish it?”
     You shook your head dismissively. “Oh, no. It was due thirty minutes ago.” You quickly explained the topic you were writing about in class before getting side tracked. “My professor had said he would allow it to be turned in the next morning, but I doubt he actually meant it.”
     He smiled a wide grin, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “You go to the university nearby, right?” 
     You nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “If I’ve got any luck, there’s a chance you go there too?”
     He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t, sorry. I’ve visited campus a few times because some of my friends go there, but I just usually focus on work.”
     His gaze was tilted upwards towards the sky, and you couldn’t help but admire how the exhaustion still shone in his eyes, but somehow that same passion gleamed there too just mentioning what he did for a living. You wished you were that passionate about something that would actually support you financially in the future and make you happy.
     When he glanced back at you, you were still taking his essence in, and he made a look of confusion. “What?”
    You shook your head, chuckling. “Nothing. I just admire that you can dedicate yourself to something and make it seem so easy.” He looked at you, interested to hear what you had to say, even though you were sure you couldn’t be the first person to tell him this. “I haven’t even known you for more than ten minutes and I can already tell you’re passionate about what you do and if you’re stressed about it, it must mean you’re dedicated to seeing your work through, and that’s more than enough to admire and appreciate, especially when that can be so difficult sometimes.” You finished your short tangent, looking back up at him to see him staring intently at you, seemingly in awe of what you’d just said. You felt a blush creep onto your face as you quickly blurted out, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be so straightforward and weird like that- I sound like some crazy secret admirer or something...”
     The crickets chirped in the silence between the two of you, and it felt like it would never end.
     “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret admirer. I mean, wouldn’t be so secret, but...” You saw the smile creep up onto his face. “It’s nice being appreciated. Nobody really tells me that kind o’ stuff, so... thanks, I guess.” 
     The heat on your cheeks didn’t go away by any means, but you grew more comfortable with it as you mumbled, “Maybe I wouldn’t mind admiring you.”
     Now, it was the boy’s turn to blush, and you smiled at how his cheeks grew redder with every passing second, and how his subtle grin spoke a thousand words he didn’t need to say.
     “Miya Osamu.” The boy’s hand came into your view as he extended it for you to shake. “I own Onigiri Miya across from the grocery outlet.”
     You smirked, grasping his hand in yours as you said, “L/N Y/N. I own an official license for being a horrible driver and an ID that proves I’m a sleep-deprived college student and that’s about it.”
     He laughed, shaking your hand and standing up, letting go too soon for your liking.
     Because for some weird reason, his hand felt right in yours.
     Osamu said a quick goodbye, mentioning something about how he should get going and how you should get some sleep before he disappeared down the stone path back into the darkness.
     You stood up not too long after he’d left, your coffee now entirely cold as you plopped the half full cup into the trash can on your walk back to your dorm, not needing the pathetic warmth anymore. Your heart was beating fast and the feeling of Osamu’s hand resting in yours lingered on your palm, and that kept you warm enough.
     Maybe you’d be visiting that onigiri place your friend recommended to you a little sooner than you’d originally planned, and maybe more often than you would’ve expected.
44 notes · View notes
kurohoely · 3 years
Text
always (daichi x y/n)
part 3
genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip
cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k
a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))
part one , part two, part three
Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.
“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”
Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.
“You too. I’m free tomorrow”
“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”
Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.
7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…
You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.
“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”
You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?
“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”
Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?
You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.
You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?
“Y/N!”
Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.
“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.
“Come on, let's get you back home”
He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.
“How come you were there?”
“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”
You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.
“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”
How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.
“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”
A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.
“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”
“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”
“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”
You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.
“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”
He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.
“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”
“I would love to”
Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.
“Good night Daichi”
You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.
“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”
30 notes · View notes
tbtssstuff · 4 years
Text
Back In Time || myg 3
Tumblr media
Summary: While helping your boyfriend research his ancestry you find a very old looking book. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open it, a flash of light sucks you into a world you’d never seen before. Now with a man who looks exactly like your boyfriend you have to find a way home.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Time Traveler!au, Angst, Fluff
Word count: 4.3K
Warning: Smut implied, ANGST
Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
AN: 🥺🥺🥺 I am so happy you guys are enjoying this so far. Tbh I think this is the best thing I’ve ever written. We may have maybe two or three chapters left and I’m not ready for it. I’ve got other stories to work on after, but idk which one to start. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. ANYWAY! Here is chapter 3.
-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮
Tumblr media
“Hey stupid get up.You were gone for a long time so I came to find you. What were you doing falling asleep in a strange room? Come on, Y/n, let’s go home.”
Your eyes snapped open and you shot straight up, expecting to see Yoongi and the rows of books in the library, but all you saw was a tiny room with a dresser.
You groaned, rubbing your face. “Just a dream.”
Why couldn’t have this been the dream? Why was being back in the library the dream?
Yoongi’s soft voice lulling you out of sleep, even though he was being rude by calling you stupid, he did it out of love. A love that you were starting to fear you would never be able to return to.
Tears stung your eyes at that fact. The fact that you may never see your Yoongi again. His sharp tongue, his passion for music, his gummy smile, the way he makes you laugh, his kisses, the night time cuddles, and so much more just gone.
Poof. Vanished. Up in the wind just like your hopes of going home.
“You’re awake. Good. Now we can... Wait are you crying?”
Yoongi moved from the door to the bed, sitting beside you. You could see the slight worry in his eyes and that just made you cry harder.
“I I’m so sorry.” You choke. “I just... I just...”
You didn’t know what you were trying to say. You wanted to tell Yoongi everything. About the library and the book. About how you were thrust into a world where the love of your life was with another woman. Everything, but nothing was coming out.
Your head was spinning and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if someone had put a 50 pound slab of concrete right on your chest and decided to stand on top of it, slowly pushing it further onto you.
Yoongi watched wide eyed. He wasn’t equipped to help you nor did he know how to calm you down. Whenever this happened to him, and thankfully it hasn’t happened in a while, Yoongi just kept to himself.
So he just let his body take over and pulled you into his arms, feeling you shake as you cried against his chest.
Yoongi held you, gently and warmly, it was a complete 180 from this morning when he pushed you for hugging him.
But he still did it anyway.
Yoongi was all you could focus on. The heat from his body, his natural smell, even the weight of his hands on you back.
Everything was just Yoongi.
After what felt like an eternity, which was probably only five minutes, your tears stopped, but neither of you moved. Yoongi held you tightly in his arms, chin resting on top of your head, not saying a word. What was he thinking?
You pull back a little to look up at him, but his arms still didn’t move. Even with dried tears on your cheeks, red eyes, and a flushed face Yoongi thought you were still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He’s thought that since he saw you in the marketplace.
Which made this all the more harder for him.
Especially when you reached up to cup his cheek in your hand and he instinctively leaned into your touch, scaring him to his core that you had this effect on him, but in the moment it felt good. Like he was being loved.
You smiled. “Thank you, Yoongi.”
Yoongi’s eyes snapped open and he quickly released you, jumping to his feet. He moved so quickly you’d think he was on fire.
He needed to find out who you were and if you were a spy, not holding you. So why did he miss the feel of you in his arms?
Yoongi cleared his throat. “Now that you’re calm, let’s talk. Who are you?”
Sighing, you let your hand drop back down to your lap, since it was still lingering in the air where you held Yoongi’s face, and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Well I can tell you my name is Y/n.” Yoongi nods. “But no matter what I say after that you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“You really won’t, but okay.” Taking a deep breath, you prepared to lay it all on the table.
“I’m not from this world or time. I’m from the year 2020, which you never wanna see by the way, the world is basically on fire, and I was in this library helping my boyfriend Yoongi, not you Yoongi, my Yoongi, ah that doesn't make sense. Anyway! I was helping him do some research for his history paper. Well we were getting bupkis and he obviously hadn't slept for a good few days, which I tell him all the time isn’t good for him, but he never listens to me, so I told him to get some sleep while I went to get coffee and food. I ended up getting lost in the library and then found this spooky old back room, so like the dumb ass I am, I went to investigate it because it said ‘Ancient Korean Dynasties’. Might as well right? So when I get in there it’s super dark and I end up slipping on a flashlight, which was weird. Like why was it there in the first place? I turned it on and saw a red book with The Tyrant King; Agust D written on the spine. Even though I got an eerie feeling from the book, I opened it anyway. Suddenly there was this big white light and next thing I know I’m getting felt up by creeps and you save me.”
You placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch what little breath you had, before you even dared to glance up at Yoongi and you weren’t surprised with what you saw.
Yoongi stared back at you, eyes wide and full of disbelief. It looked like he was attempting to process what you, very quickly, said, but eventually you heard Yoongi scoff.
“Yeah you’re right,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t believe you. What do you mean ‘your Yoongi that isn’t me’? And a book that sucks people into some kind of alternate universe? That’s bullshit.”
You sigh. “Told you, but I promise it’s the truth. Things like that aren't something I could ever make up on my own. I’m not that kind of creative.”
Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you, searching your entire face for the slightest hint of a lie, but he couldn’t find anything. Either you were an amazing liar or it was the honest to god truth. While he wanted to continue to be skeptical of you, Yoongi hadn’t seen any other reason not to trust you.
So he did.
“Okay.” Yoongi made his way closer to you again, but didn’t sit on the bed. He couldn’t risk being that close to you. Who was telling what he would do if he was once again under your spell.
“If what you are saying is true, which yeah seems way too crazy for anyone to make up, it sounds like a high level of magic that none of us here can help you with.”
Magic? Like the kind in fairy tales and movies? If that was the case where were you going to find someone that could perform that level of magic? What if you couldn’t? Would you be stuck here forever? You didn’t want to stay here. You wanted to go home to Yoongi and Min Holly.
“But there is someone I know of that could,” Yoongi stated, almost as if he could read your mind and was trying to comfort you somehow, “but the only problem is that he works for the king. Kim Namjoon is kept under lock and key because he is the most powerful warlock there is. So you would just have to stay here until we take that tyrant down and then we can find a way to send you home, okay?”
His small smile and soft eyes was enough to make you feel ten times better. Yoongi was going to help you go home and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. To thank him. To kiss him.
You held yourself back though as that was just the reflex you normally had whenever you saw Yoongi. You had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t your Yoongi.
“Well now that that is settled why don’t you get some sleep? You had an eventful day.”
You nodded, a yawn slipping past your lips. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until he had said something.
Picking up the thin blanket, you laid back down on the bed, snuggling up to the pillow, which smelled like Yoongi, and closed your eyes. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Yoongi gave you one last glance before blowing out the candle by the bed and leaving the room. He looked around the main room noting that everyone had gone to bed by now, which made sense considering how late it was. Yoongi should probably turn in as well. Tomorrow was going to be filled with nothing but planning. Their time was drawing near.
Yoongi sighed and made his way across the room, pushing back the curtain that covered Yoona’s door, only to be surprised to find she was still awake. 
Yoona was sitting on her bed, long dark hair freed from its usual ponytail, and in nothing but a pair of cotton panties and his shirt.
It was moments like this that Yoongi ever really let himself admire her beauty.
Her skin was pale and soft, only a few scars littered across her otherwise flawless body. The darkness of her hair contrasted with the soft glow of the candle, her eyes pierced him. Yoona smiled warmly up at him.
“I was worried that I would have to go in there again.”
Yoongi scoffed and moved to remove his boots and pants. He shucked off his jacket before placing it on the dresser and taking his shirt off as well. “Nothing to worry about, Yoona. Just an interrogation.”
Yoona didn’t believe it was ‘just an interrogation’ for a second. She had never seen Yoongi act this way before, so of course she felt threatened. He was her man and she wasn’t going to let some mystery girl waltz in and take him from her.
Yoona loved Yoongi more than anything in the entire world.
And she intended to make him remember that.
The moment Yoongi slipped under the covers, Yoona was on him. She kissed his lips slowly, running her nails down his chest, feeling his abs twitch, before kissing her way down his neck where she bit into his skin, surely leaving a mark.
Yoongi groaned and ran his fingers through her hair. “Really Yoona? Now?”
Yoona chuckled at his dry response though she could feel him start to harden against her leg. Yoongi never seemed enthusiastic about sex. She didn’t mind though. His body was always more honest than his words.
“Just sit back Yoongi,” Yoona purred as she straddled his lap, happy to feel him wrap his arms around her waist, “let me take care of my leader.”
Yoongi only hummed in response as Yoona did just that.
Tumblr media
Over the next three days, you watched Yoongi and his team prepare for their attack. From looking at the layout of the palace to gathering the weapons they needed.
Everyone was super nice to you and even Taehyung had toned down on the flirting. Especially after Yoongi threatened to break his hand if he attempted to touch you again.
You had almost forgotten that you didn’t originally belong here.
Almost.
Yoona liked to remind you. Not by saying something, oh no, but by hanging on Yoongi every chance she got.
You had noticed her little love bites the first night. Yoona really liked to liter his neck with them. Which made you livid. Seeing marks on Yoongi that weren't yours just made your blood boil and she seemed to know it.
Every morning he would come out of their shared room with either new marks or the old ones were refreshed. You bit your tongue each time, trying not to say anything, but also trying not to cry.
Since the first night Yoongi has been nothing but kind to you. Once he figured out you weren’t some kind of spy and wasn't going to hinder his plans in any way, he figured he might as well get along with you until they could get you home.
Yoongi sighed, getting up from the operation table, before grabbing his jacket and putting it on. “Okay I have to go into the marketplace. There are a few things we need and then we are ready for our attack.”
“I’ll go with you.” Yoona instantly jumped up from her seat, reaching for her white leather jacket as well.
Yoongi stopped her with the wave of his hand. He really couldn’t stand how clingy she was being, which was saying something because she’s always been that way, so to have at least a couple hours without her sounded heavenly.
“No you stay here. I need you to make sure we have all the ammo we need. Y/n why don’t you come with me?”
“Me?”
“Her?!”
“Yes her.” Yoongi rolled his eyes before looking at you, smiling softly. “I’m sure you are tired of wearing the same clothes. We can see what the vendors are selling and get you something else to wear.”
Also if he had to see you walk around in his clothes any longer he may not be able to contain himself.
Yoongi had barely been holding off from touching you again. He could still feel the presence of you in his arms and he craved to feel it again.
The things you were doing to him.
You nod and grab your jacket as well, slipping it on before walking up to him. “Well let’s go.”
You could see Yoona huff out of the corner of your eye as Yoongi led you outside. The sun and heat hit you almost instantly. It was so intense that you wondered why Yoongi always insisted on putting on a jacket before leaving.
Once you were back on the main strip of the marketplace, you could really see how crowded it was.
When you first saw it you were so shaken up that you couldn't appreciate any of the shops. Which was a shame considering how much you loved to go window shopping with Yoongi back in your world.
“There are so many people.”
Yoongi just nods and starts in one direction, motioning you to follow him. “There are. So stay close, okay? 
How did he expect you to stay close if he moved through the crowd fluently while you keep bumping into people. Finally having enough, you reach out and grasp the back of his jacket, clutching it tightly.
Yoongi paid you no mind as he continued to weave through the crowd, passing a butcher shop, and finally stopping at a clothing vendor.
There were different variations of shirts, pants, and a few traditional looking hanboks. The fabrics ranged from cotton to what looked almost like a denim material. No matter the material it all looked homemade, which was amazing to think that they sewed it all by themselves. You could never do that.
While you were admiring the clothes that sat on the table in front of you, you didn’t notice Yoongi watching you. 
She looks so cute. Yoongi thought, smiling when you picked up one of the shirts and looked at it like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.
Why couldn’t he have met you sooner? Were you really from another world? Well with the feelings you evoked out of Yoongi, feelings he’s never felt before, you might as well be.
But what if Yoongi could get you to stay? Would you? Would you stay here with him?
“Yoongi look!” Your voice brought Yoongi out of his thoughts, your smile almost blinding him.
That was something to worry about in the future, but for now he was just going to enjoy his time with you.
After almost an hour of being out and about you were starting to get comfortable going through the crowd. So comfortable that you had eventually let go of Yoongi’s jacket and wandered ahead of him, but with multiple items of clothes in his arms, Yoongi lost sight of you pretty quickly.
Yoongi looked around to see if he could see you, but nothing.
And then he heard you scream.
Immediately Yoongi threw the clothes to the side, not really caring where they landed, and rushed through the crowd. Pushing person after person trying to catch up to you. Who ever decided to touch you was going to get such an ass kicking.
“Yoongi!”
Yoongi skidded to a stop in front of an alleyway where two huge palace guards were holding you.
One had your left arm while the other had your right, a hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes were wide and filled with tears, the look of absolute terror. Yoongi’s blood boiled and all he saw was red.
“Let. Her. Go.” Yoongi growled, taking a step forward.
“She is under arrest. King’s orders.”
“I don’t give a FUCK!”
Yoongi was on the guards before they could even respond. His fist collides with one of their faces, the guard dropping his hold on you. With the distraction Yoongi tugged you out of the grip of the other guard and behind him.
Now that he was sure you were safe Yoongi held nothing back, beating the absolute shit out of the two guards.
You had only seen Yoongi this kind of mad once in your life and it honestly terrified you. The rage and pure hatred in his eyes was enough to scare you to the core.
Yoongi huffed over the bodies of the two guards, you could see their chests moving so you knew they were alive, and he wiped some blood off his face. Well tried to because all it did was smear on his cheek and the back of his hand.
You jumped a little as he started towards you. “I I’m fine Yoongi. T thank yo-“
Yoongi cut you off, pulling you tightly into his arms.
The smell of blood and his sweat filled your nose as he pressed you into his chest. You could hear how fast his heartbeat was and feel the slight tremble of his hands.
“Yoongi?”
“Stupid!” He shouted. “I thought I told you to stay close!”
You didn’t know what to say. All you did was wrap your arms around him and clutch your fingers into his jacket.
Yoongi stepped back a little and cupped your face in his hands, inspecting you for any injuries. Once he was satisfied that you were okay, Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, placing his forehead on yours.
“You can’t scare me like that, Y/n.”
“I’m sorry, Yoongi.”
You stared into each other's eyes. The amount of raw emotions in his eyes made you weak, like you were being drawn in by him. As if Yoongi could read your mind, he leaned down and kissed you.
Yoongi smiled against your lips when he felt you kiss him back. Your lips were soft and molded against his perfectly. Nothing could have ruined this moment.
Suddenly Yoona’s hurt face flashed through his mind and he quickly pulled away.
“I’m sorry I shouldn't have done that.”
“Then why did you?”
Yoongi thought about it for a moment. Why did he kiss you? There was just something about you that seemed to memorize him and make him lose all sense of rationality. You were unlike anybody he had ever met.
Yoongi sighed, taking your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “I don’t know, but you do things to me, Y/n. Things that no one else has ever done to me. You make me crazy and I want to protect you.”
Your heart swelled thinking about his words. They were so sincere that of course you believed him.
“You mean it?”
“I would never lie to you.”
Tumblr media
It was almost night time when you and Yoongi returned. It took a little while to calm down after the almost “kidnapping” and then a while longer to find the clothes Yoongi bought.
The moment you walked in Yoona was having a fit.
“What took you guys so long!!” She shrieked from her seat in the front room. She reminded you of those parents that wait for their kids to come home.
You could tell she wanted to say more, but was instantly distracted by the dried blood on Yoongi’s cheek and clothes and his bruised knuckles.
Yoona shot out of her seat, pushing you to the side, and inspected Yoongi. “Oh my god what happened to you?!”
Yoongi just shrugged and went to put the clothes in his room.
“This is all YOUR fault isn’t it?!” Yoona turned her glare to you, the flame in her eyes growing by the second. She grabbed your arm and yanked you so hard it felt like your arm was about to come off.
“Answer me!”
“You’re hurting me! Let go!” You tried to wiggle your arm out of her grasp, but that only caused her to sink her nails into your skin, leaving marks.
“I knew you were going to get Yoongi in trouble the moment you showed up,” Yoona seethes, “now look at him! Bloody and bruised!”
You finally snatched your arm from her grasp. “You think I don’t know that?! I know it was my fault what happened in the marketplace today.” You rubbed the marks on your arm that Yoona’s nails had left. “If only I had listened and stayed close to him.”
Yoona scoffed. “Or you could have just been taken away and none of us would have had to deal with you anymore. Yoongi was right about you, you are just a nuisance.”
“Yoona!”
Both of you turned to see Yoongi standing in the doorway, both bruised fists clutched at his side.
“That is enough.”
“But you said so yourself!” Yoona cried. She could see the anger in his eyes and while it did hurt, she wasn’t going to back down without a fight.
“Is this true Yoongi?”
“Y/n let me explain.”
“Oh my god it is.”
You turned on your heels and tried to leave, but Yoongi quickly caught your wrist.
“Y/n! Please hear me o-”
You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “You said you would never lie to me! You’ve been lying this entire time!”
Not being able to stand being there a moment longer, you turn and run out the front door, ignoring Yoongi when he calls out your name.
You ran and ran. Your lungs burn and your eyes stung from the tears that were falling freely from your eyes.
“Yoongi said you’re a nuisance” 
Yoona’s words just kept replaying in your mind. Over and over again. You couldn’t seem to escape them, but what made it worse was Yoongi’s voice was starting to over power hers.
“You’re a nuisance. I can’t believe I ever saved you. You should have died.”
Even though he had never said those words to you, just imagining him saying it was more than enough to tear your heart in two.
After running for a while you were completely lost. You slowed down to look around, but it was so dark that you couldn’t make anything out.
Now that you were only walking and not running, the cold wind was catching up to you, goosebumps running up both of your arms.
It was cold, but where could you go? Certainly not back to Yoongi. Not after that.
Yoongi. You thought about him again. Everything seemed to be going so well with him. The hugs, the kind words, and that kiss.
But of course you were stupid enough to believe his words. He said he would never lie to you, but you were convinced that was a lie too. You knew that he wasn’t yours in this world and there was no way anything was going to happen between you… or was it?
You shook your head, oblivious to the palace guard that saw you walk by.
The guard came out of hiding and grabbed your shoulder. You turned and elbowed him in the face. There was no way you were going to be manhandled again today, but the guard was quick to rebuttal. He grabbed onto your jacket, ripping it off of you as he yanked you back.
You attempted to kick him in the leg, but before you could the guard raised his sword and hit you with the blunt end, knocking you out.
“The king is going to have my head for that.” The guard mumbles as he lifts your limp body off the ground and throws you over his shoulder. “But he did say by any means necessary.”
Shaking his head, the guard started in the direction of the royal palace.
Tumblr media
“What the hell is wrong with you, Yoona!” Yoongi shouted at her. Yoona shrank back from the power of his voice.
“S she was getting in the way and besides what does it matter? You belong to me, Yoongi!” She shouted back suddenly getting a burst of bravery.
“I don't belong to anybody.” Yoongi hissed before running out to find you.
He searched the entire village, twice, but couldn’t find you anywhere. Yoongi was starting to fear something had happened to you.
“Y/n!” Yoongi called out, but soon spotted your jacket on the ground. He picked it up and noticed the amount of blood on the fabric.
Yoongi’s heart dropped as he came to realize that you were hurt and missing.
You were gone.
Tumblr media
Tag List @mizz-kraziii​ @queen-of--roses​ @ugly-wall-flower​ @flowersgirl02​ @sunshine-procrastinate​ @dulcaet​ @scorpiomoon​ @yoongiwillforgiveme​ @multifandomfantasychild​ @midaribaby​ @missingin4ction​ @gabbien @angiexyoung​ @thefangirlsoul​ @galaticmochi​
244 notes · View notes