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peaches-of-1 · 6 years

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Before we get started, I just want to thank all of you who have been reading this from beginning to end. This will be a memorable set because of the OTP becoming canon and then mistreated but that’s another story. So thanks and I hope to write more Pentagon soon.

Competition day was finally here and everyone was busy warming up and doing their makeup even though you didn’t have to perform until later. As the lead, you were nervous. You weren’t the only one, so everyone had done a full run through before breaking for lunch.

Even though you Hyojong different meals, you both ended up sharing most of it, and everyone rolled their eyes when you fed each other. It was two hours until show time for the co-ed groups since the males and females performed tomorrow. You had so much built up entergy, so you wanted to get it all out in order not to overdo it on stage.

E’Dawn gave you a back hug and asked how you were feeling. You weren’t completely sure to be honest.

[3 Days ago]

After checking into the Lotte City Hotel in Jeju, everyone got ready to explore the city until curfew. You and most of your friends went to a nearby park to do some k-pop in public where a decent crowd formed. In the crowd was a guy who was like hella gorgeous who came to talk to you afterwards.

He bowed and greeted you, “I’m Woosung, but you can call me Sammy. You guys were all amazing! I wish I could dance like that.”

What was it with fucking blonde ass Koreans? He was platinum as fuck, and you were digging it.

“(Y/N).” You introduced yourself as Hyojong and the others looked on. “We’re just in town for competition.”

“Oh, really? Me too. Well, my younger bro’s competing, but I’m here to support him.” He removed a leaf from your shoulder. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Nah, U.S.A.”

He switched to English, “Same here. Where from?”

You told him and you guys spoke a bit. E’Dawn said that you’d all better head to the mall if you wanted time to shop before tomorrow and get some practice in before it got too late. You rolled your eyes since you were still upset with him, but he was right.

“Wanna come with?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting my brother and his friends there anyways.”

Sammy was wearing a shirt covered in white roses that you really liked a lot, and he said that he’d give it to you if you won 1st place. You laughed. He was a really sweet dude and you liked hanging out with him even though you had just met. He got along well with Matthew as well.

Once at the mall, there was a lot of window shopping. You wanted to save your money for food. Hyojong told you to come with him because he wanted to show you something. Not wanting to go alone, you told the others that E’Dawn wanted to go somewhere specific.

“I know we’re not on the best of terms right now, but I still wanted to give you this. I ordered it ahead of time, so that it’d be ready when we got here.”

Half of the group and Sammy went with you to see what Hyojong wanted and you ended up at a Build-a-Bear. He went to the counter and showed a code or something from his phone, and the man smiled. He went to the back, and you were not believing this.

“Dawnie, did you really...make a bear for me?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I wanted something as cute as you but that I sorta made for you to have. It’s silly, I know, but still.”

The man came back out with a light blue bag. You took the plushy out yourself and couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. It was a Pikachu dressed up as Peter Pan.

“It’s Pika Pan.” He said.

“OMG, I love it!” You hugged it and then caught yourself. You still hugged it but loosened your grip, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Thanks, oppa.” You didn’t look at him as you put a receipt on the counter.

“I was pretty sure they were ordered for a couple, but coincidences exist.” The employee laughed and nodded, returning to the back.

Everyone was confused, and your cheeks were on fire. He came back with a green gift bag. Inside of this one was a Buneary in a blue dress with a blue ribbon tied around it’s ear.

“Wendeary.” You said.

“Just fuck each other already, my god!” Kino said, just loud enough for the group to hear.

Everyone laughed and Sammy asked why you guys chose those specific costumes, and you said it was your concept. It’s not like he was competing against you guys.

“Hyung!” A cute smaller boy with brown hair called out to the group. “We gotta get back to the main group now!”

“Ok, I’m coming!”

Sammy said farewell to the group and said the he couldn’t wait to see you guys on stage. You all then went to go eat, and the others were going to make you two air your grievances and finally talk to one another.

You went first. “How come you didn’t say I was your girlfriend when everyone was drooling over you? It had to be obvious what I was feeling especially with all the questions I was asking you.”

He shook his head, “Not really. Well, sort of because I know you, but I was nervous you’d loose interest. I wasn’t sure that you actually wanted to date me since you’re so amazing and--”

Everyone stared at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jiwoo said. “You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to--” She was fuming.

“Dawnie, I swear to god, you’re adorable but stupid af.” Lisa added.

Matthew nodded, “Dude. Really? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“But then when everything was done, instead of talking to me, you went to go party with Mr. LA and crew.”

You shrugged, “Well, yeah! You weren’t giving me anything, so I decided to go chill with friends. You didn’t even call me if you were so curious or concerned or whatever about me.”

“Cuz my phone fell onto concrete and the screen shattered!” He didn’t yell, but he was very expressive. “I couldn’t text if I wanted to, which I did by the way.” Hyojong pouted.

You pouted in return and played with your salad, “If your phone was broken, how were you able to call me the next day? Also, why not just get one of your friends to text me or in the group chat that it was broken?”

“I got it fixed the next day and called as soon as I could. I went to go watch your story, and it showed you having a good time. I called you to ask how it went and BM picked up. He said you were sleeping in his bed.”

“You saw my story! It showed all the other ones drunk as fuck! Matthew was the only one sober enough to care for a person. The others just went home and he was worried about me.”

Matthew added, “She doesn’t know Korea as well as the rest of us. It was safest for her to come home with me instead of trying to take a bus home by herself. Her friends were probably already asleep. I was only trying to help.”

“Well, I didn’t know all of that . The last snap didn’t load.”

Hui sighed, “So, is everything out now? Did everyone say what they needed to say?”

“Almost.” E’Dawn said. “I really am sorry that I didn’t try to talk to you properly. My anger and jealousy got the better of me.”

“And I was just being petty cuz you hurt my feelings, so I’m sorry too.” You replied.

Somin nearly jumped out of her seat, “Finally, omg.”

Amber agreed, “Like seriously, holy fuck.”

“So, titles?” You asked as soon as he had put food into his mouth.

“Soon.” He replied. “I want to make it special when we make it official.”

You rolled your eyes and the nine of you finished up eating before returning to your hotel rooms. There was about an hour left before it was time for curfew, so a couple of them decided to head to the pool that had a glass wall that was part of the gym nearby. Matthew went to the gym and pulled BamBam with him.

Hyojong, Amber, Hyuna, Somin, Hui, and you all went to the pool. Somin wore a tank top with her bathing suit as did Amber who was also in orange swim trunks and red flip flops. Hyuna went into the hot tub since she had slept wrong the night before and needed to loosen up some more since it still sort of hurt.

E’dawn jumped into the deep end while doing a cannonball. You had put your hair into a swim cap because you didn’t want it getting wet and taking forever to dry even after you washed it tonight. This way, you didn’t get any sort of water in your hair. You screamed as you were grabbed by the sides by an unknown source. Hyojong came up smiling and laughing.

You splashed him, “Oppa!” You called out, annoyed.

He started splashing you back and everyone got out of the way of the to playful lovebirds. Then everyone piled into the hot tub with Jiwoo. Even the boys came to the tub after washing off their sweat. Other teammates came out and the jacuzzi was able to fit 14 people into it total with nearly everyone sitting comfortably and two people in the middle. Then everyone dried off and went to their rooms before they got into trouble.

[Two Days Ago]

It was competition day. Everyone was doing warm ups and getting their makeup done. You were nervous as the lead, but you knew this was coming for months now. Luckily, even after the holiday season, everything still fit like it was supposed to. Before lunch, everyone performed the whole show real quickly and then the crew went out to eat on a ferry.

Hyojong and you ordered two different meals, but you two ended up sharing most of it. The others rolled their eyes every time you fed each other. Still, they were happy you two were still somewhat officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Well, to clarify, this was competition day for co-ed groups. The boy and girl teams would perform at different times tomorrow. It was two hours until show time, and you were rocking on the balls of your feet to get out your built up energy. You didn’t want to overdo it on stage.

Hands slid around you waist and you almost jumped. You checked to see that it was E’dawn. He smiled at you and asked how you were feeling.

“Nervous. We’re the first group to go on since the team won last year, but being first is...I feel like my hands are shaking.”

He grabbed them, “I’ll hold your hands still for you then. We’re gonna do great, so don’t worry about it.”

You smiled as he came around and put his forehead to yours. He was such a huge comfort. Then he was called to go behind the small window set that was made for the show. You then got into the bed with Hui and J. Seph before being rolled out onto the stage.

Grown up Wendy and her children were waiting off stage opposite the bed. When the music started, they came on with Wendy holding a book. She was reading and began dancing with her oldest, a girl in a blue onesie. Then they kissed her cheeks and went “off to bed” passing the actual bed. Adult Wendy then looked at her Peter Pan book and slowdanced with it before looking at her bed and then going off stage.

Next song begins and there’s a knock on the window. the main part begins. You’re nervous, but you emote as you open up the window and get surprised by Peter Pan. You really are happy to see him. Hui and J. Seph are woken up by Tinkerbell Jiwoo who laughs at their surprise. The five of them dance together as the setting changes and the bed and window are taken away.

The story plays out with the Lost Boys being rowdy and lifting up the new guests and performing tricks for them to Skrillex. It was a great show that got a lot of gasps from the audience. They ain’t seen nothing yet. The scene soon changed to Hyuna Lily and girls in orange and turquoise hanboks doing their sword dance which allowed a break for the leads.

Lisa and the other girls looked so fierce with smiles on their faces and blades resting in the crook of their arms and somewhat on their forearms.They always had different practices until they got the hang of it. Then they had to perform in front of the others where proper spacing was learned. No once got sliced.

Then it was back on your feet for the battle with Matthew Hook and Somee. It was so much fun, but getting to do stylized capoeira was the best. After winning, more just wild partying and then it was time to go back home. Hyojong Pan helped your Wendy down and the two of you kissed even though it wasn’t part of the choreo.

You blushed and then waved at him as he jumped out the window and then you and your siblings ran off stage and past the bed. You were able to watch E’Dawn knock on the window and Adult Wendy wake up. Blackout. Everyone did a quick bow before running off stage and changing as quickly as possible to watch the other competitors.

It was over before you knew it. Ten groups were in this category, but only five stood on stage. The other ones didn’t make it to the top 3. Third place was given to a group that had done Hansel and Gretal.

A famous actor was calling out the prizes all night. It was finally time for him to announce first place.

“And coming in first, all the way from Seoul is Urban Shine! Applause!”

Everyone clapped and you turned to hug the person nearest you. Thinking it was E’Dawn, you were surprised when it was Vernon. In all the commotion, you had turned the opposite direction you had meant to for a hug. You both sort of shrugged since he had hugged you back. He motioned to Hyojong who you hugged tighter, and he grabbed the mic from the actor.

“I said I was gonna do this if we got first place here, so (Y/N), will you officially be my girlfriend? Titles and all?”

You nodded since this is what you wanted. You were his girlfriend. He was your boyfriend. The two of you were an official couple, and you weren’t going to miss this chance.

Amber leaned over into the microphone, “Fucking finally.”

Everyone laughed and he kissed you deeply. It was the greatest moment of your life other than getting accepted into college. First place and a boyfriend. That night, the whole crew went to go eat. Afterwards, it was straight to bed. You and your oppa were both very tired, and fell asleep texting each other.

[Today/Now]

After getting a tie for second place with the all girls team and the boys placing second alone, you all headed back to the hotel for the last night to get ready for the Dancer’s Banquet for all of the top five placing groups from every category. It was formal wear this year, but you said that you hadn’t brought anything particularly fancy.

It was more like you were nervous that the two outfits you had worn weren’t good enough despite what your roommies thought. Amber said she had you covered. From her suitcase, she pulled out several pink dresses and rompers since pink was the color picked this year. Everyone and their mother was confused as to why she had those with her.

“I like to be prepared, ok? Pick one.” A small blush was seen in her cheeks.

Her legs were badly chafed, so she wasn’t wearing going to be wearing the black suit she had brought. After you chose the frilly pink romper, she grabbed the longest dress and then realized she had a back up suit that was a lot looser. Then hair and makeup, jewelry and shoes. You undid your twists since you had kept them in so long for performances.

E’Dawn nearly died when he saw you and Amber as Jiwoo and Somin where whisked away by other boys who recognized them from earlier and had formed quick crushes. Hyojong was standing between Hyuna and Hui in the conference room where the banquet was being held. She nudged him and pointed to you. His heart wouldn’t start again but still heard the thumping in his ears.

A cutie by the name of Jimin got to you first in a pink pinstriped suit. He was in the boy group that got first place. He complimented you and said that he saw your performance yesterday, being a bit nervous.

You smiled and thanked him, smiling even bigger when you recognized E’dawn coming up beside you. He kissed your lips and you introduced Jimin to him. The two boys then started gushing about how talented the other was in the competition earlier.

“I literally do not know how we got first place.” Jimin said.

“Because you’re amazing, that’s how!” Hyojong replied.

“But we messed up so much! I messed up a bunch and you guys were so fucking clean!”

He shook his head, “I won’t have you saying you messed up. You talking about clean, and you guys were spotless.”

Jimin was then grabbed by the wrist from one of the other guys in his group and told about the chocolate fountain on the other side of the room. The two quickly scampered off to go see it.

Even as you two went to meet up with your closest friends in your groups, other people came up to praise your performances as Wendy and Peter. You also complimented them when you remembered who they were. If not, their outfit was the thing given praise.

Once you all got to the others, Hui smiled.

“Looks like everyone wants to be your friends.”

Hyuna smiled, “Or they hate your guts.” She pointed to a group of guys who were seething.

E’dawn had his hand around your waist, “It’s probably because I’m a drama queen. Asking you to be my girlfriend like that was really over the top. I’m sorry if it stressed you out.”

“It’s fine! I promise!” You said. “It was really sweet. A bit extra, but it made me happy.”

You kissed his cheek and he gave your lips a peck, holding you closer. Throughout the night, there were dance contests and fun things to do after eating the main meal. At some point, Hyojong asked if you wanted to go outside on the balcony.

It was getting hot inside, so you said yes. It was a nice view as the sea was right there and the waves were rolling beautifully. They crashed against the sand with a gentle roar. This side of the building didn’t have many lights other than a few lamps here and there.

You laughed.

He looked at you, “What?”

“I remember the first time I truly fell in love with you. It was when we were looking at the stars that night when I found Vernon making out with another girl. You didn’t tell me to just get over it but you comforted me.”

“Of course. We were friends first. Yeah, I had a crush on you ever since the first day I saw you walk into the library, but I still think your feelings should be cherished because they’re real no matter how fleeting.” He smiled softly. “Also, I was hella worried about you, so there’s that.”

You giggled, “I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I was actually thinking about leaving Korea because of that. I was just an emotional wreck but I--”

Hyojong kissed you and held your hand, “I’m really glad you stayed.”

Squeezing his hand, you replied, “Me too.”

Amber groaned behind you, exasperated, “Stop making out and come back inside!”

“Yeah,” Hyuna added. “You have some fans that wanna talk to you.”

She nodded towards the busy room. You and your boyfriend smiled and joined the party. You were glad you stayed, so very glad. It wasn’t the easiest life to have since it was just being made. Still, as you looked around at all the friends you had made you only had one thought.

So far, so good.

#Pentagon #Triple H #E'Dawn #Kim Hyojong #Reader x E'Dawn #E'Dawn x Reader #Black!Reader #Female!Reader #fluff #Pentagon fic #Pentagon fan fic #Pentagon fan fiction #Pentagon fanfic

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ptg-neecorrect · 5 years

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Jinho: hey can you do quick maths, what’s 67 + 39?

Wooseok: 180

Jinho: bruh that’s not even close

Wooseok: well i fucking did it quick okay.

#incorrect quotes pentagon #pentagon fake texts #pentagon fanfics #pentagon scenarios #ptg #wooseok #jinho #wooseok fan fic #wooseok scenarios #jinho pentagon #pentagon jinho #jinho scenarios #jinho reaction #jinho fan fic

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ouroborus-momento-mori · 2 years

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Authors note - wow! I’m so blown away by the interest in my fic. This is my first attempt at fan fiction and a reader insert so please be gentle. It’s starting off a little slow but I really had to build where the reader is at in her life before we can really dive in. It’ll pick up in the next chapter which should be out before Sunday. Feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

Corresponding Spotify: Destination Unknown

Link to AO3: Destination Unknown

Word count: 3,865

Find Chapter two - here.

Destination Unknown

Chapter One - The Long Drive

***

In your defence, you never meant to stay on the East Coast for this long. It started with you wanting to make a name for yourself, to get out from underneath your father’s shadow.

Almost a decade ago you moved out to Washington D.C. to start your university education at Georgetown University. One Bachelor of Arts degree and a Masters of Museum Studies later, you had earned your current position as Assistant Curator for Contemporary Military Aviation History at the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum.

You had a little help along the way with your father being an Admiral, but most people in this city had at least a little nepotism to help get them where they are.

You had certainly worked for it too, sacrificing countless nights out on the town, friendships, hell even your last relationship or two. All because you were addicted to the drive to do better. Be better. To work with the best. To be the best. To have people know you because of what you’ve accomplished on your own.

Not because of the last name that was gifted to you in your very first hours of existing.

Kazansky.

Your whole life you’ve had to bear the heavy weight of your name, and all the expectations and assumptions that came with it. It was both a blessing and a grievance. You loved your family dearly, but with the weight of your fathers rank and reputation you had grown up feeling smothered by it.

Your whole adolescent life you had felt pressure to enlist and rise through the ranks like your father. Your whole life you had dozens of people reminding you of how alike the two of you were. But that wasn’t what you wanted. It had nearly torn you apart in your senior year, having applied to civilian universities and the Naval Academy with your childhood best friend Bradley.

Ultimately you chose to move across the country to study as a civilian. Washington D.C. was safe enough as it allowed for plenty of visits with your parents when your father was sent for meetings at the nearby Pentagon or the White House. It also allowed for your father to keep close tabs on you, having plenty of connections in the city.

It hurt beyond belief at first to be so far away. But it got better with time. Over the past decade you have successfully built yourself a life of your own. Now at 29 you had an outstanding career, several publications and accreditations to your name, a well loved (albeit small and very expensive) apartment, and a fluffy black cat by the name of Merlin.

A loud sound interrupted your train of thought.

It was like your heart was ripped out of your chest when you heard your phone ringing, the blaring of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” signalling that it was your mother calling. You had been pacing your apartment all morning waiting for this. With a deep soothing breath, you picked up the phone.

“Mom?”

You heard a watery sob. “Oh honey. It’s even worse than we thought.”

You struggled to hold back tears. “How long do they think we have left with him?”

“Dr. Thompson says six months at best.” She inhaled another breath, you could hear her trying to hold back her cries. “Your father and I had a talk last night. We really want you home sometime soon. Now preferably. We just want to hold you again, have a few months with the family all together again. You think you’ll be able to make it?”

You had known this was coming for a while now. This past Christmas your father had started to show some signs of his failing health. Coughing up blood. Trying to hide it. Blaming his hoarse throat on all the talking he does. Or that it was a simple head cold. After urging him to get tests done, you had to pack up and leave sunny California for the East Coast once again.

When you had returned in January you submitted an exhibition proposal to your Director, centering around wanting to tell the unheard stories of contemporary elite naval aviators and their amazing accomplishments. You mainly wanted something that would allow you to move back to the west coast for several months, so you could be close to your family without having to give up your career.

With a couple months worth of check ups and tests on your fathers end, and a series of tweaking and resubmitting proposals and outlines on your end - you finally got the stamp of approval. Not only were they letting you curate your first solo exhibition, but they were also giving you a grant so you could publish a book to correspond with it.

The project would allow you to spend several months with your family. Splitting your time between the nearby naval aviators school for research in their archives and the command bases surrounding town where your family still resides.

“Yes. I’ll be home soon. I just need to get things situated. One of my colleagues will sublease my apartment while I’m gone. I’m taking Merlin with me.” You sighed into the phone, gazing across the apartment.

Merlin was lounging outstretched in the sun, absentmindedly pushing your papers around on your desk. He mewled at you when he noticed your attention. He plopped down and subsequently started pawing at the cupboard where you kept his treats.

“Oh goody… I can’t wait to meet my only grand-fur baby. He looks so soft in all those photos you send of him. I think he would really help your father too. Might soothe him, you know? I think it would do him some good. Petting Merlin and all.” She was rambling. She did this when her anxiety was flaring up.

“Mom. Will you be okay until next week? I’m going to drive home, it would be easier to pack everything into the car.”

“Yes, just get here as soon as you can, okay? I- We need you… Your father needs you here. Just come home soon. We all miss you.”

“I love you, mom. Tell dad and the boys I love them too. I’ll text you when I leave here on Friday.” You took a shuddering breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too, honey. Your dad and your brothers do as well. You know that. We’ll see you soon.”

Immediately after your mother hung up you fired off a text to your two brothers, making sure they knew they could call or text you should they need any help. And to make sure they would take all the housework and cooking off your mom’s to do list. She had enough on her plate right now looking after your father.

You fired off a text to your father too, trying to express to him how much you loved him and how you were looking forward to seeing him and spending time with him.

***

You spent the next day packing everything into your old ‘69 baby blue Ford Bronco, a car you had fixed up in high school with your father, his friend (your would-be uncle, really) Pete, and your childhood friend Bradley.

You went into your office too, picking up some last minute essentials and saying farewells to your colleagues. You would be seeing a few of them in a few months when they flew out to collect the objects you’re going to be gathering for your exhibition.

Amelia, one of your best friends and colleagues, had agreed to sublease your apartment while you’re gone. She had recently broken off her engagement to her unfaithful fiancé. You gave her a more than fair price, and offered her the entire place to try to mend her broken heart.

You left a bouquet of flowers, several bottles of wine, a nice bottle of whiskey, an assortment of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer, and your infamous collection of cheesy RomComs for her to revel with while you were away.

Looking around you tried to spot the little (large) fluff ball that lived (thought he owned) in your apartment with you.

“Pstpstpst… Merlin! Come here, you absolute rascal.” You scooped Merlin up, his black fur flying into the air. He was a massive cat, you were pretty certain he had Maine Coone genetics somewhere in him. You had named him after one of your father’s friends callsign.

Placing Merlin in his carrier and heading to your door, you took one last look around your apartment. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but this pit that resided in your stomach made you feel like this was the closing of a chapter for you. You shoved that thought away. No time to think of that now. Your family needed you.

***

You sent off a quick text to your mom, and just like that you were off on a cross country journey.

You silently thanked god your pay was decent, the sheer amount of gas you would need for this trip was stupidly astronomical.

With a few stops across the country to rest at pet friendly motels, you had finally made it to California in just under a week.

You decided to stop first at the US Navy’s Fighter Weapons School, Top Gun (as literally every naval aviator referred to it as in your youth), to drop off your research materials and hordes of guide and reference books.

Laughing gently, you couldn’t stop yourself from gazing at the school instead of the road ahead.

Holy shit, you thought. Where did the time go?

You had spent an absurd amount of time here as a kid growing up. You definitely didn’t have a normal childhood.

Pulling in, you started off loading everything you needed. Merlin started mewling from his carrier.

“You need the litter box, sweetheart? Just a moment, let mommy do this first.” You grumbled trying to haul everything you needed out. Getting frustrated with the weight of it all, you just dropped your boxes on the ground. Poor sweet little Merlin needed your attention. You hooked up his harness and his leash. Carrying him over to the surprisingly green grass next to the parking lot.

“Holy mother of god! Is that you, Kazansky?! The boss man told me you’d be making your way here again. Thought he was fibbing.”

Swirling around you had to lift your hand up to shield your eyes against the blinding sun.

“I really don’t think this is the best place to be letting your scruff-ball of a cat take a shit.” The blurry figure said.

Straining your eyes, you could just barely make out the face that was coming toward you. You could never forget that voice though, considering he was one of the pilots who practically raised you here on base.

“Solomon Bates. How’ve you been?” You couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across your face. This was the first of many reunions you had to look forward to. Or in some (one) case, dread.

You rushed over, dragging Merlin behind you, to hug the man.

“I’ve been good, kid. Better now that you’re here. Your father has us all worried, not that you should ever tell him that. He’d whoop all our asses if he ever heard such a thing.” You both let out barking laughs. You were thankful for Warlock’s sense of humour.

“I know. Dad won’t let any of us worry over him. His pride is still just as strong as it was when he first started at this Academy, I’m sure of it.”

“Ahh you gotta give the man some credit. He didn’t get to where he is today without having a strong will and sense of who he is. His sense of pride has been well earned. You and your mother will have to use some of that charm you have, get him to rest and take it easy.”

You gave the man a small smile, “We’ll do our best, don't you worry about that.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Now,” He glared down at your cat, then swung his gaze over towards your Bronco. “I’m going to take a guess. You’re gonna need help with those boxes?”

“That would actually be amazing, Bates.” He laughed as he saw you let out a sigh, you let out a small chuckle too. It was a huge relief knowing you wouldn’t have to carry them all on your own.

You placed Merlin back in his carrier, rolling down the windows to let the wind run through the vehicle.

Bates helped you carry in the boxes leading you down the familiar halls you used to haunt as a kid.

You arrived at an all too familiar door. Your father’s old office, the one away from home and his previous office before his time at fleet command.

“You guys never gave this space to some other poor paper-pushing Admiral?” You had to admit, you were quite surprised. You used to spend time here as a kid reading or doodling. Your father would take you into work to hang out with the other naval aviators children.

The kids were almost always taken here when their fathers wanted to give their mothers a well earned break and they simultaneously needed to catch up on some paperwork or reading.

“Nah. Your dad’s always been welcome here, we never wanted him to leave in the first place. This complex has got so many rooms we figured we could leave this one be. Now it's yours for the next, what? Several months or so?”

“Give or take. Hopefully give. I don’t want to wish any time away.” You grimaced. That came out awkward. You still weren’t used to the impending, well… whatever would be coming down the line for you and your family.

“I know, kid. I know.” He nodded. “Now… time to let the old memories come alive, hey?” He flung open the door to your fathers old office and sauntered in.

You took a deep breath before following him in, your eyes scanning the room. Just like you remembered it. There was a grand oak desk to the far left with a leather executive chair at its helm. The rest of the room was occupied by dozens of photos from years long gone, grand bookshelves holding trophies, awards and books. There was also a long oval oak conference table, with several leather chairs seated. Everything was painted in dark moody tones, common to old officers clubs built during the Second World War.

When you were younger and first started getting into history and myths, you would often refer to your father as King (Admiral) Arthur and at his table would be the fabled knights (officers) of the round table.

You and Bates both dropped your boxes onto the large oval table. You would set up your work space at a later date.

You glanced at Bates as he meandered around the office to stop in front of your fathers old desk, picking up a photo that had a layer of dust. He wiped it off with his hand.

“You know… I can still remember this day like it was yesterday.” He hummed a smile, eyes twinkling at you.

You narrowed your eyes, having a sneaking suspicion at what photo he has taken up. You walked over and playfully snatched it out of his hands, glancing down at it for yourself.

Sure enough, you had guessed correctly. The photo was of a young freshman year pair, you and your old friend Bradley. You were both covered in silly string, laughing your asses off at the mess the two of you had caused.

Bates had been the man behind the camera that fateful day, and had taken glee in also capturing your frantic mother in the back of the photo. She had been desperate to clean you both up in time for the family photo, a yearly tradition the entire staff had at the weapons school here.

You smiled and took the photo over to the wall with dozens more, holding it up to the photo with dozens of figures all smiling and dressed in their Sunday best. If you looked closely enough, you could spot both you and Bradley in the front.

Both your white sundress and his white shirt had been stained from the silly string. Just above you was your father, your mother, Bradley’s mother, and your all but blood related uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.

They were all holding in a laugh at how the two of you looked, dishevelled and stained, even after both your mom’s had tried desperately to clean you up for the photo. Still to this day no one had any idea where the two of you had gotten the silly string. That was a secret you and Bradley had pinky sworn to never tell. You always kept your promises.

“You two used to have so much fun together.” Bates mused, smiling to himself, his eyes glazed over in memories.

“Whatever happened to your friendship? You two ever stay in touch after you, uh, picked up and left?” You snapped out of your smile, turning your eyes to look at him.

“That, uh, came out wrong. Sorry” Bates grimaced. No shit, Warlock you thought to yourself.

“We, um, lost touch with each other.” You tried to find a way to phrase it for him. “After he found out he had been rejected from the Naval Academy, I decided to forge my own path. The civilian route. So… I moved to Washington.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts.

“Bradley… I think he took it hard. The Academy was the only thing he wanted to do after graduation. He didn’t have any other plans. He’s a smart guy, he had all the right grades. He had all the right extra curriculars. Hell, he even had the legacy with Goose being a graduate. It’s always been a mystery to everyone why he got rejected.”

You took a breath, glancing at Bates. He nodded with a soft smile, urging you to continue.

“We saw each other a few times after I left, but it was never, uh, really the same. I guess we just grew apart.” Your mouth twisted around the words awkwardly. You knew why it was never the same, not that you would ever tell Bates this.

How would you ever go about telling, well, anyone that you had hooked up with and lost your virginity to your childhood best friend the night before leaving for the other side of the country for four years? Four years that had now turned into ten.

“I tried to reach out to him after his mother had passed away. It was right when I was finishing my end of term exams… I wasn’t able to make it to the funeral. He never replied to any of my messages or the package and letter I sent him.” Bates was openly looking at you now, he had a neutral expression on his face. You could tell though, he was trying to get a read on what you were feeling.

“I, um. I took it to mean he probably didn’t want to hear from me. After a couple months of trying to reach out to him then, I haven’t spoken to him since. It’s been years now since I’ve seen or heard from him.” You glanced down at your hands, the photo still in them, picking at your nails to avoid his gaze.

“Do you miss him?” Your eyes immediately swung back up to meet his gaze. What?

“What?” You blurt out, having to take a moment to actually speak the phrase.

“Do you miss him? The two of you grew up together. All of us older folk thought your bond was unbreakable. Hell I mean…” He trailed off, glancing back to the photo now forgotten in your hand. He gently took the frame in his putting it on the table, facing the two of you. “To be honest most of us thought the two of you would be married by now, having popped out half a dozen kids.”

Your face was bright red. You felt like you might actually melt into the ground now at this very moment.

Thankfully, Bates let out a barking laugh and slapped the table. “Holy shit, Kazansky. I wish I had a mirror to show you your face right now.”

You laughed along with him, clearly embarrassed.

He took one last look at the old photo, grinning.

“I gotta get back to work now, it’s soon time to head off for the day. Louise is making some kind of stir fry for dinner. She’s on some kind of health kick or another. You’ll have to drop by sometime. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to see you again, and to hear all your sure-to-be swanky tales from the Capitol.” He smiled and nodded to you.

“Here’s the keys to the office. I hope you get at least a fraction of use out of this old office as your old Iceman did. I’m sure with the looks of those books you got there it won’t be an issue for you.” He turned as he was heading out the door, a devious smirk on his face.

“Oh, and don’t ever let me catch you allowing your cat take a shit on my perfect green grass again. Or else I’ll be calling over my favourite drill sergeant to get you to do an asinine amount of pushups, just like any other recruit here would.” He gave you a cheeky wink and then he was off on his way.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his back, your smile returning as you looked down.

You picked up the photo frame one more time, looking to the base of it. On the bottom in your father’s handwriting there was a small written inscription “The fox and her rooster.” You returned the photo to its proper home on your father’s old desk.

You took one last glance around the rooms before leaving and locking the door, heading for the outside once more.

Once arriving at your well loved Ford Bronco, you made sure to check up on Merlin once more. He was happily taking a nap in the warm sun, it was the end of February so the heat hadn’t really started yet.

You sighed as you got into the driver's seat, flipping on the AC and flipping through your CD collection to find what you were looking for. The downside of your vintage beauty was that there was no bluetooth or plug in for your phone. You didn’t mind it though. It added to its charm.

Windows rolled all the way down and your hair thrown up in a claw clip, you put your aviators back on shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun on the road. Popping in your Journeys Frontiers CD, belting your heart out to the music as you started down the drive to the place you once called home. A place where if you’re being honest, your heart still longed for.

I’ll be there soon.

Tag list: @n3ssm0nique @linkedwiththemusic @wonderlandlovelove @serrendiipty @hockeyboysarehot @blossomreed @in-themountains @levylovegood

#bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun #the fox and the rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #reader insert #miles teller #iceman #tom kazansky #Bradley ‘rooster’ Bradshaw X reader

588 notes · View notes

yeongwonhi-nuna · 7 years

Text

Music Soulmate

I saw a writing prompt for being able to hear your soulmate singing when you turn 18 and I just couldn’t help myself. I haven’t included any names in this so it’s optional bias, but for some reason I kept on thinking about Jimin?

Enjoy~

At first, I hated the fact that my soulmate sang every night.

It started on my 18th birthday, the same way it happens to everyone. On the day that you turn eighteen, you are able to hear whatever music your soulmate is listening to, and you could hear their voice if they were singing. I hadn’t given it a thought as I celebrated during the day with my friends and then with my family at night. It wasn’t until I was just about to go to bed that I heard it… the soft, beautiful, unfamiliar voice singing a sad ballad. I had looked around my room, thinking my brother was playing a prank on me, until I realised what was happening. I was hearing my soulmate’s voice for the first time.

My soulmate almost always went to sleep much later than me, so that meant many nights where I was lying in bed wishing they would stop so that I could sleep. I suppose that I should have been thanking my lucky stars that my soulmate was actually talented. Eventually, I started to look forward to hearing his gentle voice singing every night before I slept. I found it comforting, and after adapting to the change, I found it difficult to sleep if he stopped singing before I was ready to sleep. I wish there was a way to record his voice, but it’s not possible to record the voice in your head.

For two years, I heard his voice every day and night, but I had never met him in person. I wondered if I would ever meet him until one day… his voice disappeared.

I was confused at first, I was lying in bed when I realised that I hadn’t heard his voice all day. I lay awake for half the night, hoping to hear him… nothing. When I woke up the next morning, I was grumpy. I hadn’t slept well because I hadn’t had his soothing voice to lull me to sleep. I wondered if he was ill and decided to play some upbeat music to try and cheer him up.

After a week, I was terrified. The boy that sang every single day in my head for the past two years had suddenly vanished and I had no way to find out if he was okay or not. When I told my best friend about it, she gave me a sympathetic look before hugging me tightly, whispering a ‘I’m sorry’ into my ear. I know what she thought. That something had happened to my soulmate and I would never get the chance to meet him or hear his beautiful voice ever again.

Another week passed and I was at the hospital visiting my grandma who had fallen in the bad weather. It was good to see her so cheerful after her operation. She gladly informed me that she would be getting released by the end of the week. I left her room after promising to visit her again tomorrow. I wandered through the white, sterile corridors until suddenly I heard it.

The voice of my soulmate, but only this time, it wasn’t just in my head. It was real. I ran forward, following the sound of the familiar voice. I burst through a set of doors, startling the occupants of the room. I had stumbled into the children’s ward, a group of children were sitting in a circle with a guy around my age sitting with them. They all turned to face me as the doors banged open. The kids gave me dirty looks before turning back to the guy and begging him to continue.

He gave them a warm smile before he started singing again. I felt the air whoosh out of me as I grabbed the chair next to me to keep me upright. The feeling of being able to hear his voice both in my head and for real was more than I could ever have imagined. Before I realised what I was doing, I started singing along quietly. I barely had a line of the song out before the guy turned to face me, his jaw dropping as he stopped singing. I sang another line of the popular kids song before embarrassment won me over and I stopped.

He apologised to the kids and stiffly got to his feet, grabbing a pair of crutches to support himself. The kids all grumbled but were quickly distracted by other things as the handsome man made his way towards me. “It’s you.” He said, his voice more beautiful that I could have ever imagined, even when he was just speaking. I nodded, a smile on my face. “It’s you.” I said back. He gave me a grin. “I was worried about you.” I blurted out suddenly. “You stopped singing.” I said, holding his gaze.

He gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He said. I looked over the bandages that covered his body. “Are you okay?” I asked. He gave me a warm smile. “I am now.”

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds smut #smut

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hils79 · 3 years

Text

I was tagged by my darling @killerandhealerqueen

Nickname: Pretty much everyone calls me Hils, including everyone I work with. Dad sometimes calls me H or Hillington, occasionally I get called Hilsy.

Star Sign: Virgo

Height: 5'2

Time: 4:27pm

Birthday: Sept 19

Favourite Bands: ONEUS, WayV, NCT 127, NCT Dream, ATEEZ, Golden Child, Pentagon, Monsta X, Stray Kids, SHINee, Everglow, Imagine Dragons, Bon Jovi, Oasis, The Cure, Suede, Duran Duran

Favourite Solo Artists: Taemin, Kai, Max Changmin, Lay, Wang Yibo, Jackson Wang, Alanis Morissette, Missy Higgins, Dessa, Taylor Swift,

Favourite Foods: The two food groups pasta and cake

Favourite Colors: Purple, green, burgundy, blue

Last Thing I Googled: LMAO it was how thick a concrete floor is on average for a fic I just finished writing

Last Show I Watched: Winter Begonia

Last Movie I Watched: Mystic Nine: Qing Shan Hai Tang

Lucky Number: 5

When Did I Create This Blog?: 2010

Do I Have Any Other Blogs?: I have 4 sideblogs but I only really use one of them these days. Pretty much everything is here.

Do I Get Asks?: Sometimes, and I’m always delighted to hear from people

Why Did I Choose My URL?: I’m boring. I wanted to just be Hils since that’s where I am most other places but that url was taken so I just stuck my year of birth on the end

Blogs You Follow: 1625

Dream Trip: Honestly I’d love to feel safe travelling anywhere right now but, you know, pandemic. I used to travel a lot in the before times and I miss it. I don’t really mind where but I’d love to meet up with some of my DMBJ friends outside of the UK (or even within the UK tbh there’s a few of y’all I’d love to hang out with some day)

Instruments: Nothing that’d I’d describe as being able to play well. I used to tinker on a keyboard when I was a kid but I haven’t touched on in about 20 years. I got a dizi for my birthday a couple of years ago and a book to teach yourself how to play and I haven’t even tried yet. I just don’t have enough time.

Average Hours Of Sleep: 6-7 during the week and a bit more at the weekend when I don’t have to get up at 6am for work.

How Many Blankets Do You Sleep With?: No blankets, just a thin duvet.

Tagging: @fan-man-huaisang @bimingjue @feveredcharm @strandedchesspiece @s1utspeare @jockvillagersonly @foxofninetales @psychic-waffles @kholran @rose-nebulijia @merinnan @jaecomments @nope4ever @humanlighthouse and anyone else who wants to play

#tagged #killerandhealerqueen #about me

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nsk96 · 3 years

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Art & Writing

Another list of posts I want to save for later because the search feature ain’t workin how I’d like ~_~

Stretch your fingers and hands

Art is for fun, not competition

Never too late to start

Color scheme, color theory help

POSE REFERENCES

Drawing snouts: cats, dogs, wolf, fox

Drawing Shoulders

Drawing Hands: awkward pentagon

Horse -> Dragon

Using a tablet

Comic Pacing

Sewing

Editing software/ pictures & video

Wizard Battle references

Watercolor

Tips for practicing anatomy

Skeletons

Hair directions

Long skirts

Afro, 4C hair tutorial

Dark Skin undertones

Blush colors, poc

Eye colors

Traditional Chinese hanfu

Inspiration: father recreates son’s art

Inspiration: drawing light

MOOD BOARD Resources!

CLOTHING

Writing resources

WRITERS BEWARE OF WATTPAD!

More writing resources

Resources for describing things

HOW TO STAY MOTIVATED

Fan fiction is legitimate

Each fan fic genre has value

Fan fic problems

Important for fan fic writers!

Publishing

Angst and Horror: if you can’t handle it

Character sheets

Human body limits

Analyze the stories you like

Leaving feedback/comments on fan fic

Paragraph Breaks

Using adverbs

Naming Characters in other cultures

Character development, agency, plot

Romance character development

Romance: Acts of Love

Good vs Evil: making threats

Writing Bartenders

Writing Alcoholic drinks and cocktails

Writing Children

Writing Kids

Writing Asian characters

Writing Muslim characters

Writing Slavic characters

Writing Russian names

Writing Mixed characters

Writing Coming-outs

Writing deadly/ dangerous female characters

Writing Starters: late-night wandering

Writing Starters: compliments

Writing Starters: touch-starved

Writing Starters: reputation

Writing one-liners: smut

Writing Prompt: mob boss

Writing Prompt: past-life enemies-to-lovers

Writing Prompt: superpower of truth

Writing Prompt: prophecy of lost child

Prompt masterlist

Writing: redemption arc

Writing: villains & epic romances

Writing: good liars

Writing: flirting

Writing: Enemies to Lovers

Reasons to hate

Getting together

Prompts & one-liners

Fake dating

Writing: fan fic makes reading fun for all

Writing rule we didn’t know we know

Reminder: different stories for different people

Reminder: dark but hopeful

Reminder: quality over quantity/ representation

Reminder: Redemption Arc

Bad superhero trope

Esk*mo kisses

Fan fic drive-thru (just for fun)

Types of fan fic authors

Serial killer & a writer

Bechdel Test

Ao3 Dark Fic warning: Dead dove

Mr. Darcy

Sacrifices

Context clue world building

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peaches-of-1 · 6 years

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Chapter 4: Holiday Season

Black!Reader x E’Dawn

< Previous | Next >

Everyone was excitedly going around the garden and taking pictures with one another in their new hanboks. It was a bit hard for you earlier with everyone being with their families when you had just left yours, but your friends assured you that you weren’t alone. It was fun getting to meet everyone’s parents and siblings, hear stories about their childhood.

You were glad that Rosé’s and Hui’s parents were so welcoming and kind when they showed up. They were the only ones here so far and they were so kind. Most of the parents showed up in the next hour for a visit. The adults greeted each other and their children and grand children in some cases.

Everyone was smiling and eating, playing games...except Hyojong. You looked around for him and he was sitting outside looking at a few roses on the outer hedge. He looked sad. Hui nodded his head towards his friend when you two made eye contact. You nodded and excused yourself for a bit.

[Two months earlier, December 20th.]

Because it was your first time needing a hanbok for anything, the girls were adamant about you getting one custom made. The girls being Jennie, Jisoo, Rosé, and Lisa along with Amber who helped to calm everyone down when they got too excited. You were excited too, it was a big first. Just, not nearly as much squealing. There was a shop where you could get pre-made ones that would also make them for you.

They decided to go for a more modern look with pastels while Amber was looking for pants. The sales clerk kept giving her a side eye, but then another one came who spoke with a deeper voice and was wearing a more feminine style hanbok.

“Mom, she says she doesn’t want a skirt. Stop it, please. I’ll take over, and you help the 4 bunny-like women.”

They were hopping everywhere looking at the new styles while holding them up to one another while you were getting your measurements taken by an older women who had no doubt in what she was doing. She didn’t talk much which made you kind of nervous.

E’dawn and Hui came in and started talking with the girls. They had already gotten theirs made and were just waiting on you. The older woman wanted to be called Missus Min and didn’t apologize when she pricked you.

“Missus Min?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever made a hanbok for anyone like me before?”

She gave a small smile, “More now than ever. Yes. We don’t treat them any differently if that’s what you’re worried about. No matter what their skin color is, we want our clients to leave here feeling beautiful.”

You smiled and let out a breath, “Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous and I keep wondering if I should even be doing this.”

“You’re not playing dress up. You’re getting ready to celebrate a holiday with your Korean friends. I promise that by the time I’m done with you, you’ll feel like a Korean girl yourself, now stand up straight.”

E’dawn was talking to Amber and helping her find something.

“Should I also go for the pastel thing? I wanna match with the other girls to some extent, but just pants.”

The deep voiced femme piped up, “We’ve got pastels for the more masculine folk too. Mostly blue and greens, but also pink has been popular too in the recent years.” She picked up a pink floral vest. “These would go great with some light blue pants.”

A squeal was heard, “Oh my gosh! This is so cute!” Jennie twirled in a pastel pink hanbok. A light flower pattern on the skirt.

The other three came out in their own traditional dresses. Rosé in blue, Jisoo in purple, and Lisa in green. They all smiled at the super happy and excited girls who spun like princesses and let their hair fan out behind them.

The mother asked, “So, is this a yes from anyone?”

All the girls nodded and agreed. Lisa approached E’Dawn and teased him.

“How do I look?” She flipped her hair dramatically and struck a pose.

“You look--” His eyes caught movement and stopped talking.

Curious at what he was gaping at, she turned around and gasped. Soon enough, everyone in the store was looking at you. Jisoo and Jennie held hands and let out another squeal.

“Oh wow, (Y/N). You look amazing!” Hui said.

Amber agreed, “Like a princess! Holy pineapple!”

You blushed and awkwardly played with your hair, “What do you think, Hyojong-oppa?”

He couldn’t stop staring at you. The way the lacy and floral white top contrasted your skin was beautiful. The large red flowers and leaves on the skirt just made it seem like it was actually pure gold when it was on you. He didn’t know what to say, and so he just had his mouth hanging open and his heart beating so hard in his chest.

It wasn’t until Amber threw an arm around him and answered for him, that he woke up.

“He loves it too.”

“Y-yeah. You just. Wow. You look. I just. Wow.” He looked around and then pointed at you again. “Wowwwww.”

Your face started to get hot again as the others laughed and smiled at how starstruck Hyojong was.

“It matters what you think, though, (Y/N). Do you like it?” He asked.

You looked down at your custom hanbok and nodded, “Yes. I like it. I really like it a lot.”

The mother, father, child, and grandmother all clapped and then you were ushered to the back to get everything off. You heard Hyojong say you were so pretty before you were completely out of ear shot, but you couldn’t see that he touched his cheeks to hide his blush.

After getting everything off and changing back into your casual clothes, the girls had bought theirs and had them in protective bags and boxes. The hanbok would be done in the next two weeks. You told them to take their time and not to rush it since you were going to be out of the country until next month.

They said they had a pick up limit of a week.

“I’ll pick it up for you.” E’dawn said. “Mine is just around the corner, so it won’t put me too out of the way or anything. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be unable to wear such a beautiful custom made hanbok because you’re visiting family.”

You smiled at him and agreed that would be ok. Then the father remarked that he was such a good boyfriend. You two replied you were just friends. The grandmother laughed. Showing more emotion that she had the whole entire time you guys had been there. She even started crying from laughing so hard and went into the back.

“Well then.” The father said and gave a receipt and pick up date.

So your Sexy Mrs. Claus dress had come in the other day, and it fit perfectly which was great for you. Hui said it was a tradition, and you were more than happy to participate in it. Korean Christmas was more focused around friends than family like in the West. You saw lots of girls in the dress, but there was no one really making sure you were wearing it.

It was just some fun at the hot springs that Hui’s aunt owned part of with her wife of a few years. It was strange, though. Other bells went off in your head telling you and helping you realize that you had been bamboozled. Yeah, you looked fucking fantastic in the Santa dress and hooded Christmas capelet, but everyone was staring at you. You didn’t like the way they did it.

“Of course the Western girl is trying to stand out.”

“Black girls are always so extra.”

Looking at them in the eyes, you said, “Maybe so.” and went to go yell at a boy with periwinkle hair.

You weren’t exactly upset by the harmless trick that had been played on you, but there were few things that you wanted to say to Hui. Not enough people were dressed as Sexy Santas for it to be a tradition. You felt like you had were being seen as a novelty, and you didn’t like it. He was standing next to E’dawn and you punched him in the green plaid covered arm.

“What the hell, dude? This outfit is not a fucking tradition! I feel like I’m Elle Woods but on a different holiday!”

“I don’t know who that is.” He said and you folded your arms. “Look, I’m sorryyyy, but you wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t said so.”

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe. If you wanted to see me in this you coulda just--”

He smiled, “It wasn’t for me.”

Confused, you were going to ask who it was, then you turned your head to the other oppa standing there who was basically drooling as he had a pretty solid grip on his red solo cup. Was he going to say something? Even as you stared at him in his wrapping paper patterned suit, he just stood there.

“Oppa?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” He crushed the red solo cup at the sound of his voice and a fizzy drink spilled all over his hand and the floor. Everyone around him backed up.

The blonde boy looked at the mess then back at you. “I’m gonna go get something to clean this up. Stay here. I want to tell you how great you look.” He went off to dispose of the cracked, no obliterated cup and get a towel or something.

You smiled but still scolded Hui, “Everyone’s talking about me, saying I’m being extra flashy and stuff just because I’m me, but they don’t even know me!”

“Of course everyone is talking. You look amazing.”

Lisa said as she and your other female friends were dressed in similar red dresses, except Amber, of course. She couldn’t help but find the perfect wrapping paper suit that she fell in love with. It was basically a classy ugly sweater.

Momo pinched his ear, “If you ever lie to us again, I’ll have your head.” Then she stepped back and spun around in her white heels. “Don’t I look pretty?” She had her hair in ponytails and had fuzzy Christmas themed bobbles on the band.

“Watch out for Hyojong’s liquid on the floor, ladies.”

They all jumped back and looked down.

You explained, “He crushed his cup by accident.”

“Because you’re he saw how beautiful (Y/N) was.” Hui teased.

“Here he comes now.” You said.

He had a towel in his hand and squatted down to clean up the pile. Then it was back to a normal party. You felt good with your group of super supportive gal pals and bros, and E’dawn. There was no doubt in your mind that you thought he was the cutest most special guy in your life right now, but it’s not like you could just tell him that.

It was too sappy and cheesy. Especially on Christmas. Nope, no you weren’t going to tell him. It wasn’t the time for this even though you maybe sort of, ok you really wanted to kiss him under the mistletoe.

A cute guy with an oval shaped face and cute dimples asked you for a dance, and you said sure. His name was Jooheon, and he was super sweet.

Hyojong was hyping himself up to go dance with you when he saw the other guy in a green and white suit ask you. He was all gentlemanly about it, too. What was he supposed to do now? You seemed like you were having a good time with him.

Jennie poked his arm, “Hey. You like (Y/N), right?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I was just about to dance with her, but now I’m all nervous again because that guy got her before me.”

“Then wait a bit and ask her then. You should really tell her how you feel. When we opened presents this morning, you got her jewelry. No normal guy friend does that. And her face? I’m sure she feels the same way about you.”

Hyojong wasn’t sure, “I just...I’m not--”

“Go ask Wendy for a dance, Peter Pan. I’m sure she’ll say yes.” She pulled him towards you and Jooheon.

He had just told you about how long it had taken him to get the suit in particular because he was invited last minute, and it was the only one in his size. So you two were laughing, and you were glad that it worked out for him.

“Oh, hey, Jennie.” You said.

“Hey, (Y/N). Mind if I cut in? You can dance with E’dawn.”

You were bit too eager as you said, “Sure. That’s fine with me.” and cut off whatever Jooheon was saying. “Jennie, this is Jooheon.”

They joined hands and E’dawn held yours. It didn’t take long for the fourth wheel to realize he didn’t stand a chance with you. He went off with Jennie, and you were happy and comfortable swaying in Hyojong’s arms. The two of you talked about how his roots were starting to grow out. He wasn’t sure if he was going to bleach them again.

He asked about your flight tomorrow. You said you wanted to just enjoy the moment with him right now, and then BamBam shouted across the room to look up. Mistletoe. It was tied in a bright red bow, and it was impossible to miss. Amber turned on her camera and started recording.

“Oh, uh, well, it’s a tradition. I think we should.”

“I think we should too. It’s a tradition afterall.”

You closed your eyes and puckered up and ignored the nerves that told you to run. Hyojong kissed you. It was just a peck on the lips, but at least it wasn’t on the cheek. He kissed you, and it was on camera. Then you hid in his shoulder as everyone went “Aaaawwww~”

Later that night, the party had ended. It was just dancers and Hui’s and Hyojong’s group of friends. Most had crashed, but you were staring outside and watching the trees sway in the cold wind in a window seat. Even though you were in a sweater and comfy socks, you were still cold. Your hand absentmindedly played with the cherry necklace he had gotten you for Christmas.

“Need some warming up?” His voice asked and handed you a red mug with the word NICE on it.

“Oh, thanks, oppa.” You said and took it.

He sat across from you and your feet touched as he gave you a smile, an earring twinkling in the Christmas tree lights. You had noticed it before, but it was the pair of small silver hoops you gave him with a small chain dangle coming from it.

“Did you have a good Korean Christmas?”

“It was the best. What about you?”

He nodded, “Did you mind the kiss?”

You bit back a smile, “It might’ve been my favorite part of the night.”

Hyojong smiled and you two sat in a comfortable silence and finished your hot cocoa together. He hadn’t been sure if you wanted marshmallows, so he just brought the pack with him so that you could put as much as you wanted, along with candy canes.

He was a thoughtful guy, and in the morning, you woke up leaning on his chest as you two were on the floor. You kissed his cheek and got your stuff to take a taxi to your home for luggage and then to the airport before you got home. Your oppa had been only half awake when you kissed his face, but he knew it was real. It was the first time he realized that maybe she did actually like him back.

[Lunar New Year]

You were so glad to have visited your family back home, and you were sad to say goodbye to them once again. Still, you still had college classes and a new life to get back to. You waited for your phone and were still surprised to see that message from E’dawn that came at midnight your time zone.

It was a kiss emoji followed by the words “Happy New Year!” in English.

You asked him what is was for, and he said that he had seen your post earlier about not having anyone to kiss at midnight. He was now your first midnight kiss, and had made sure of it. That’s why he had asked what your time zone was.

He was just so sweet. Maybe he did like you like the others said. Either way, after catching up on sleep, you went to his place to pick up your hanbok. E’dawn gave you the longest hug and said that you were hanging out with him and his guy friends for the rest of the day.

Also, he wanted you to get used to him now that he had let his hair go fully back to brown instead of the blonde he had before you left back home.

“You’re not too tired or busy, are you?” Hyojong asked to make sure he wasn’t impeding on any plans.

You shook your head. Most of your work had been finished already, and you were hoping to spend some time with him. It was mostly watching his friends play video games and him showing you ones you had never seen before. Then you two went outside to practice your Peter Pan set at the park in front of his apartments.

The music plan was for it to go something like this, mostly pop but with the influence of other genres too:

Peter Pan- Hip hop

Wendy- Pop/Girl Groups

Lost Boys- EDM

Tinkerbell & Mermaids- Classical + Classical influenced

Hook- Rock music

Tiger Lily- Instrumental

One of the Taller African girls would be Adult Wendy talking to her children and telling them the story of her visit from Peter Pan. This happens during the song “Neverland” sung by Zendaya and as things wind down, it transitioned to you in bed with your brothers asleep during the sort of trap/hiphop instrumental that plays. It flows seamlessly into a trap instrumental when peter pan entered. A HA:TFELT song called “Peter Pan” with a hiphop beat would play on the travel way to Neverland.

When the Lost Boys were being introduced, they would dance to “Bangarang” by Skrillex with lots of tumbling and B-boy tricks which would lead into meeting Tiger Lily with Traditional Korean instrumentals. The piece was called “Continue to Be” by David Arkenstone and would be used as the background to a sword dance that Wendy would watch with Peter and her siblings.

Then it would return to the Lost Boys with “Crayon” by G-Dragon then Hook’s entrance interrupts it all with a mix of “Goodnight” by Dreamcatcher and “Blood, Sweat, and Tears” by BTS only lasting for about a minute and thirty seconds since the whole thing had to be between 10-15 minutes. Part of “Goodnight” Would then mix with “Peter Pan” from the beginning when the ‘kiss’ saves Peter.

Then the ticking scares Captain Hook and he goes away. Then it’s slow EDM with “Castle in the Clouds” by Brandon Fiechter until Tinkerbell is saved and then it’s time to go home. “Lost Boy” by Ruth B plays and then it’s back in the bedroom.

There are a few lines that are said, that end with “Faith, trust, and pixie dust.” and off Peter Pan and Tinkerbell go. The kids go off to tell their parents and Adult Wendy comes back in and dances to the rest of “Neverland”. At the end, she’s in bed and there’s a knock at the window.

A few people watched as you two practiced and commented on your chemistry since you were in public. There were a few things that you really wanted to work on, but you couldn’t without the others. During one of the times he caught you as you were “returning home” he kissed you and “jumped out the window”

It got snears from the older veiwers, and even some of the youngers. You knew they weren’t huge in PDA, but you also worried that it wasn’t all it was.

“You should marry a nice Korean girl.” One of the men remarked.

“I might do just that.” You replied, making him go away.

He wanted to say that if it wasn’t you that he wouldn’t get married at all. Instead, he asked if you were ok. You lied. It wasn’t as bad as it would have been back home, but it still hurt.

“Let’s pick up where we left off, ok?” You said, going to your phone to start the music over.

Hyojong squeezed your hand and you two continued.

Then it became February and the streets seemed busier than usual because the Lunar New Year was coming up quickly.

“Are your parents coming?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah. It’s probably the traffic.”

You touched his arm, “Are you ok?”

“Mom’s gonna baby me.” Hyojong finally said. “I was sick a lot as a kid, and I was just sort of preparing myself for her.”

“I’m sure it’s--”

“It’s going to be most embarrassing since you’ll see it too.” He refused to meet your eyes.

You reached out and grabbed his hand, “I won’t think any differently of you. We can’t help what our parents think. This will be your chance to show them you’ve become a healthy young man.”

“Sure. I hope you’re right.” He reached out to one of the roses, and you tried to pull his hand away.

Instead, you ended up making the cut bigger, “Oh, fuck! I’m so sorry! Let’s go get a bandage.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, not caring if blood got onto the white of your hanbok.

You were kneeling at the kitchen table while cleaning and wrapping his finger in a bandage when his parents came in. They saw you mumbling and scolding him as he looked at you with love in his eyes. But wait, he was bleeding?!?!??!

His mother rushed over and hugged her baby to her chest while calling out his name and surprising the both of you.

“Oh my darling boy, what happened to you? Are you ok? I brought your medicine just in case you forgot because I know you tend to forget things when you’re excited and especially during the holidays when you do your visiting a lot.”

“Mom. Mom. I’m fine. I hurt myself on the rose bush outside and (Y/N) helped clean me up.”

You bowed deeply to his parents and greeted them respectfully as you introduced yourself. They bowed back, and you said that you’d leave to let them talk for a bit. One of the younger kids were calling for you anyways. They wanted to make sure you experienced all their traditions.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Hyojong called out.

“Who’s she?” The dad asked, setting the food they brought on the counter.

“Friend from college. She’s American, and we’re on the dance team together. Both spotlight dancers. We’re friends.”

He smiled, “You like her?”

Hyojong nodded.

“You’ve always been a nervous baby. Just tell her! She would probably love to hear it!” his mom put in. “I can become that mom in two seconds if you don’t do something, son.”

He quickly stood up, “Fine. I’ll do something, but I wanna talk to you guys first. Let’s go to the living room, huh?”

Throughout the day, you got to know the other’s families, and they asked about yours. You told as much as you were comfortable with and hoped no one would try to dig in too much. It was comfortable and warm, and even E’dawn seemed a bit more flirty than usual. He held your hand and gave you so many back hugs while playing games.

It made your chest tighten and there were times you’d looked at him and focus on his lips, wanting to kiss them. This wasn’t the time for that though. It was a day for families, so you did your best not to actually kiss Hyojong. When it was time for everyone to leave, you felt kind of lonely and decided you were gonna head home as well.

Mrs. Kim gave her son a look and he offered to walk you to your car. You were surprised and curious, but you said of course. Any time that you could spend with him would be fantastic.

He asked what you thought of his parents.

You replied, “Opposites attract in their case. They seem nice. You were right about your mom, though. Sort of a helicopter, no offense.”

“None taken.” He laughed. “They really like you. Mom likes how you took care of me, and dad likes how good you were with the younger kids. Also, how respecting you were of our culture.”

“Of course! I love culture and I do my best not to do something stupid. So I did good?”

E’dawn nodded, “Yep. They think we make a great couple.”

You stopped mid step, “You told them we were a couple?”

“No! No..I didn’t, but...would it be so bad if we were?”

“No...” You bit your lip. “Not at all.” You swallowed. “I should go home. Practice my solo steps. Do some work.”

He pouted, “Don’t work today. Just relax. You deserve a break.”

You smiled at his cuteness and leaned on the side of your car, lightly pinching his cheek, “Ok, I won’t. I’ll see you soon.”

“One more thing before you go.”

“I was going to say the same.”

Hyojong kissed your lips, holding your face to his. “I really like you, (Y/N). I won’t be afraid to be seen with you. I love you.”

The children of the adults who were leaving all thought and shared the same sentiment that BamBam and Amber called at them.

“About time!”

“Finally, dude!”

They even clapped as the two of you laughed and kissed again.

One more chapter!

#Pentagon #E'Dawn #Kim Hyojong #E'Dawn x Reader #Reader x E'Dawn #Hyojong x Reader #Reader x Hyojong #Black!Reader #American!Reader #Female!Reader #Story: The College Crush #Story: College Crush #Pentagon fic #Pentagon fanfic #Pentagon fan fic #Pentagon fan fiction #College!AU

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ptg-neecorrect · 6 years

Text

Wooseok: What the shit?

Hongseok, outside of his window: hey no swearing

Wooseok: Damn it !

Hongseok, from his closet: watch your language mister

Wooseok: heck

Hongseok, barging in: I saID NO SWEARING

#ptg #pentagon scenarios #pentagon fake texts #pentagon fanfics #incorrect quotes pentagon #hongseok scenarios #hongseok #wooseok fan fic #wooseok scenarios #wooseok

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smileysuh · 3 years

Note

god i loved your pentagon triplet line fic *-* i hope you write more about the members bcs there seems to be so little smut fics for them (or maybe just not enough eheh)

THANK YOU!! you're so right! more pentagon!!!!

askjaskjask it's unfortunate their fandom is kinda small on tumblr eh?

i'm considering making a post sometime with all my fav youtube crack videos, to help people find quality content for all my groups without sifting through youtube videos that might not be as good as others- hopefully when i put that out, i can tempt at least a few more people to join the fandom ;)

low key tho- Pentagon is kind of a fun group just because of how chaotic they are? Like:

These two froggy boys are on men's health issue covers (1) (2)

I don't even know where to begin on my feelings about Triple H or Dawn x Hyuna x Hui (OOOOF)

But a good selling point to nct fans could be that Pentagon's Maknae, Wooseok, is their tallest member at 6'2, and he looks a LITTLE like Haechan, while also sharing the same enfp personality- so.... yall should check out Pentagon AKSJAJASK

#pentagon

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yuthoe · 3 years

Text

Day 4: Oops (PENTAGON: Jung Wooseok)

DID Y'ALL EXCEPT ME TO POST AFTER TWELVE HOURS, CUZ NEITHER DID I HAHAHAHA

once again filling out prompts for this list. this turned out shorter than last night's with xion cuz i had a hard time with the prompt, which is:

Day 4: Mistaken Identity

assigned a prompt for each kpop boy i write for earlier today, so i'll make a master list shortly after posting this so you guys can look forward to it if y'all want ehehe

PAIRING: Jung Wooseok x reader (but not really; they said 2 sentences to each other lol). GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 593.

---

The tall man in front of you turns, startled by your hand suddenly pulling at his bright red hoodie. “Hey, Shinji, I’ve been yelling at you for like, five minutes, man!” you tell him, almost yelling in the crowded lobby. The concert hall is more packed than you thought, and you regret ever suggesting to just arrive separately.

Shinji is a bit hard of hearing, so you’re used to him not responding to your call, but he usually replies after you repeat your question a few times. It’s even more difficult for him at such a crowded and loud venue, full of people excited and impatient to file into the hall and enjoy the performance.

You’re about to ask him to go with you to the merch booth when the man pulls down his mask, face scrunched up in confusion.

It’s not Shinji.

You immediately let go of his sweater. “OMG, I’m sorry, I thought you were my friend!”

***

The moment he felt someone pulling at his sleeve, Wooseok started freaking out. He’d accidentally uploaded a picture of his concert ticket on one of the many confusing apps the group has yesterday, and although he took it down right away, he’s sure some of his fans had seen it.

He knows the fans are nice and sweet, but he still can’t help but freak out. Wooseok ultimately decided to still attend the concert though, because the ticket is quite expensive and the artist almost never comes to Korea, and he doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance to watch them live.

But when he looks at you and sees your blank face—no trace of shock or excitement whatsoever—he calms down a bit, lowers his shoulders an inch. “You don’t know who I am?” he can’t help but ask.

Wooseok sees your eyes shift. “Um,” you say. “Sorry… should I?” He barely hears you over the chatter of concert-goers around you, but breathes a sigh of relief when he processes your words.

“Yeah, no—forget what I said,” he stammers, pulling his mask up again to cover his face and fixing the yellow beanie atop his head. “I’ll uh… get going! Hope you find your friend soon.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say, already looking around for the elusive friend. “I think I see him.” He follows your gaze and sees a fellow tall guy, skinny like him, and also wearing a red hoodie; no wonder you got him confused for someone else. “Sorry again! Enjoy the concert!”

Wooseok watches as you squeeze through the sea of people to the dude he’s assuming in Shinji, and stalks away himself, moving closer to the concert hall doors to chill. He leans against the wall and opens his phone, immediately going to the PENTAGON group chat to send a message to his brothers.

PENJELBE: hyungs, so i’m at the concert right

PENJELBE: someone just randomly grabbed my shirt cuz they thought i was her friend

KINOOO: kkkkk did they recognize you?

PENJELBE: NO THEY DIDN’T!!!

PENJELBE: they literally just thought i was the friend cuz im tall and wearing a red shirt

HUIIING: kkkkkkkk

CUTE-SEOK: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

PENJELBE: i don’t know if im happy or sad that they didn’t recognize me tbh

PENJELBE: what do i do with my life now

PENJELBE: im having a crisis

YUTO: ur being dramatic wooseok-ie

YUTO: but at least

YUTO: now u have a story to tell unis on vlive

SHIN1: yeah like that mosquito story a few years ago

CHANG9: kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

PENJELBE: WILL YOU EVER LET ME LIVE THAT DOWN

CUTE-SEOK: NO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

#kdiarynet #pentagon #pentagon wooseok #jung wooseok #pentagon wooseok scenarios #pentagon wooseok imagine #pentagon scenarios #pentagon imagine #fic: mine #fic: wooseok #fic: not spicy #wooseok #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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nitewrighter · 4 years

Note

How about some post-defection Spiderbyte, realising that they enjoy the domestic life?

*Checks fic continuity* Clearly I need more fics of Spiderbyte settling in to the Watchpoint.

----

Late afternoon light shined through the doorway as Sombra’s eyes flicked around the apartment skeptically. She could hear Widowmaker opening and closing drawers from the kitchen. A kitchen! A part of Sombra wanted to laugh at the concept--the illegal splinter cell of a disgraced UN Peacekeeping force having apartments with kitchens! But another part of her mind was flinching back from the idea. People didn’t just give apartments--the dormitory, yes, that was acceptable. Drafty, annoyingly exposed, literally anyone able to come down the stairs at any stupid moment because she and Widowmaker were defectors and therefore not to be trusted. But an apartment--an apartment with a kitchen---Sombra rapped a knuckle against the wall, frowning.

“It’s quite solid,” Symmetra explained behind her, “Since architectural hard-light’s primary function is, well, structure, it’s far more resilient than my other constructs you’ve seen.”

“Do... do you like it?” Winston’s voice seemed almost shy, just as laughable as this apartment.

“...what’s the catch?” said Sombra.

“Catch?” said Winston.

“You need me to hack into the Pentagon again, is that it?” said Sombra.

“Penta--I never asked you to hack into the Pentagon--When did you hack--? I just thought---”

“All the kitchen utilities are functioning?” Widowmaker cut in and Sombra shot her a bewildered look. This was Overwatch--not real estate agents!

“Well, with all the engineers and scientists on the team, and our resident architech, of course,” Winston gave a gesture to Symmetra, who gave a gracious nod, “It wasn’t all that much trouble to put together--”

“Yes or no?” said Widowmaker, turning the sink in the kitchen on and off.

“Yes,” said Winston, “Though uh... the higher settings on the oven may need some adjustments. Torbjorn’s been known to set things a little hot. But feel free to call us if you run into any trouble!”

Like a building super... thought Sombra with a short huff out her nostrils. It wasn’t exactly premium real estate--there was an ugly support column in the middle of their would-be living room, a remnant of the auxiliary server room for Athena this space used to be, but it was still pretty much right next to the other watchpoint apartments.

“And what was it you wanted me to do?” said Sombra.

“Live...here...?” said Winston, “Er--that is--you could stay in the dormitories if you prefer, but we figured with you risking your life on this team as much as anyone else...”

This team, the words caught Sombra.

“You might want a space with more... privacy,” said Symmetra, pressing her hands together in front of herself primly on the word ‘privacy.’ Sombra resisted snorting under her breath. As if Symmetra and Pharah had any right to judge with the way they swooned and hung on each other.

“You sure you can risk that?” said Sombra, arching her eyebrow, “Giving the Talon Defectors privacy?”

“Sombra...” Widowmaker started wearily.

“I’m just asking!” said Sombra.

“Trust is an important part of any team,” said Winston, as if that was obvious.

He keeps saying ‘team,’ Sombra rolled the words over in her mind, Are we on this team? I thought we were just trying not to die.

“We’ll try it out for a few days,” said Widowmaker.

“What?” said Sombra.

“If we don’t like it, we can stay in the dormitories,” Widowmaker finished, glancing at Sombra.

“You’re sure?” there was a brightness in Winston’s voice now. An earnest, ‘You like it?’ as he looked at Sombra.

“...a few days,” Sombra conceded, her side-eye flicking between Winston and Widowmaker.

“Excellent,” said Symmetra, quickly weaving miniature holograms of different furniture out of thin air just above her prosthetic arm, “Do you have any preferences for furniture? Revival? Craftsman? Ooh--! Bauhaus?”

“We’ll uh... just move in some futons from the dorms for now,” said Sombra, “...we’re old fashioned like that.”

“But--!” Symmetra started.

“Understandable,” said Winston, with a wave of his hand.

----

“...you’re being weirdly okay with this,” said Sombra, the first night.

“Vaswani was right. We’d be better off with privacy,” said Widowmaker, spooning her with her bare only faintly lavender-blue arm draped over Sombra.

They had shoved their dormitory mattresses together on the floor of the bedroom. The dim glow of evening hung at their window. Widowmaker liked having a window. It was a nice change from the dormitory.

“Well, yeah, but they’ll want something for it. No such thing as a free lunch,” said Sombra.

“Winston said we were already risking our lives just as much as anyone else on the team,” said Widowmaker.

“So this is what they want,” Sombra huffed, “Their stupid little ‘Team.’”

“Why shouldn’t we be on the same team? We’re just as invested in taking down Talon as they are... if not more so,” said Widowmaker.

“Do you hear yourself right now?” said Sombra, suddenly turning over on her mattress to look at Widowmaker dead in her yellow eyes, “You remember the reason why you’ve gone through all the shit you’ve gone through is because they failed you, right? They couldn’t protect you. I didn’t get us out of Talon so we could die for the people who should have kept you safe in the first place.”

“Do you think we’ll die for them?” said Widowmaker.

“I’m just saying we should be able to cut our losses if shit starts hitting the fan,” said Sombra, furrowing her brow.

Widowmaker smoothly tucked some of Sombra’s hair back from her temple, before craning her neck forward to kiss Sombra just between the eyebrows. “My survivor,” she said, running her hand down the side of Sombra’s face, “I hold you to no fate but what you choose.”

Sombra’s brow crinkled. “Don’t do that,” she said quietly.

“Mm?”

“Don’t act like you’re just a part of this fight and not an entire fucking person,” Sombra’s voice was thick.

Widowmaker’s face softened at her words, and she pulled Sombra close, setting her chin on top of Sombra’s head.

“I’m sticking with you, you get that, right?” Sombra’s voice was quiet against her collarbone, “I don’t do that for anyone. You--” Sombra’s voice took on a dense, suppressed quality, like she was stuffing a sob down to the pit of her solarplexus, “You might be the first. I don’t remember having anyone in my life I would be willing to do that for. And I hate it. I feel stupid. I feel--” she huffed a breath against Widowmaker’s neck.

“...Are you afraid of having a home?” said Widowmaker, smoothing Sombra’s hair slightly.

“This isn’t a home. It’s an apartment they whipped up out of junk, hard light and an old server room,” said Sombra.

“I’m not talking about this place. I’m talking about me. I’m talking about you,” Widowmaker’s whisper hung in the air of the room.

Sombra pulled away slightly to study Widowmaker’s face. Widowmaker looked back at her with placid affection.

“...I don’t think I can be anyone’s home,” muttered Sombra, breaking eye contact, “I’ve built so much of myself around climbing up, tearing down, and disappearing.”

Widowmaker ran her fingers down the spinal implants running down the back of Sombra’s neck. “You’ve been the surest thing in my life for a while now,” she said quietly.

“Says a lot about you, huh?” Sombra fell back into the safety of her own snarking, a grin tugging at one corner of her mouth, but it faded as Widowmaker curved her body around her, holding her tighter. Widowmaker closed her own eyes but knew Sombra’s were open.

“...it’s not that bad,” Sombra said after a few minutes of silence, “...as far as a converted server room goes...better than the dormitories, anyway.”

“Mm,” Widowmaker grunted in agreement.

“...would probably be a better place for the new processors....” Sombra murmured. Widowmaker smiled a little sleepily. At the very least, she could trust Sombra to push practicality in front of her own Crisis Orphan hangups. There was an incredible bravery in that, Widowmaker thought. Another few minutes of silence passed, and the words in the air of the room sank down, surrendering to Widowmaker and Sombra’s mutual exhaustion.

“Mon coeur?” Widowmaker said at last.

“Mm?” Sombra stirred in her arms.

“...we’re having Satya put in a bedframe,” said Widowmaker.

Sombra snorted.

----

Over the next few weeks their apartment (their apartment) came to be furnished with a mix of hard-light, what they could manage to grab from rummage sales and giveaways around Gibraltar, and a few bits of furniture Sombra had delivered to an anonymous P.O. box and had definitely not paid for with her own money. The dining room table was hard-light, the couch was not. The bedframe was hard-light, the mattresses were not. The apartment came to remind Sombra of an art piece where sections were being painted in but there were still swathes where the sketch and canvas were still visible. Moving her own processors in to the apartment was probably what marked the mental change from “just trying it out” to “dwelling place” for Sombra. There was a caginess in her she knew would never fully leave, but she did appreciate having what she could call “A base of operations” to get back to from missions.

The Watchpoint itself seemed to come more of a firmament in that time--what had previously felt like squatting started to feel like something... almost like a neighborhood. “Compound” would have been the closest word but that didn’t seem right either. Not disciplined like a Talon base, but the rocket launchpad, the hangar, the turrets, and the fact that virtually everyone on the base was more or less equipped to fight Talon, including a clunking Crisis-era bastion unit, made it feel significantly removed from any normal living situation. And yet, opening the door to the apartment and smelling food cooking filled her with a feeling she couldn’t describe, or maybe didn’t want to describe because giving it shape might make it that much harder to deal with when it was inevitably ripped away from her.

“What is that?” said Sombra, closing the front door behind her and trailing into the kitchen.

“A poor man’s cassoulet,” Widowmaker answered from their well-worn couch, not looking up from her book, “...technically all cassoulets are that but--” she gave a dismissive wave, not looking up from the book, “Anyway. They had white beans and frozen chicken in the watchpoint mess hall.”

“Since when did you cook?” said Sombra, a slight laugh shaking the word ‘cook.’

“It was on Ziegler’s recommendation... try new things, maybe get more involved in the process of making food to get myself more used to the concept of... eating,” she glanced up from her book at Sombra, “How was session 97 of spilling hundreds of secrets Talon will most certainly kill you for?”

Sombra snickered and slid over the arm of the couch, “Same old same old,” she said with a shrug, “When’s dinner ready?”

“Another half hour. But I warn you: I don’t even know if it’s edible,” said Widowmaker, setting her book down.

“I trust you,” said Sombra, with mock offense.

“Or are you hungry and don’t want to bother with heading to the mess hall?” said Widowmaker.

“It’s called multitasking,” said Sombra, bringing up a purple screen with a flick of her wrist, “What’re you in the mood for? Action? Period drama?”

“...you have some of the powerful known neural interfacing technology in the world grafted onto you, and you’re using to pretend to be a streaming service?” said Widowmaker.

“Hey, I’m not a streaming service for just anybody,” said Sombra, snuggling in close to Widowmaker.

“Mm... something short,” said Widowmaker.

“And in black and white? And depressing?” said Sombra.

“Ha-ha,” said Widowmaker dryly, adjusting herself so that she and Sombra were comfortably leaning against each other as Sombra mindlessly flicked through different data streams.

“...this is weird, isn’t it?” said Sombra, still scrolling.

“It’s... certainly unlike anything we were doing with Talon,” said Widowmaker.

“Should we stop?” said Sombra, bringing up several pre-crisis media streams and leafing through them.

“...no,” said Widowmaker after a beat, “I... I like this.”

Sombra turned her head to look at Widowmaker and smiled, then kissed her on the jawline. “You’re getting soft,” she said, teasingly.

“I am not.”

“You really are.”

“So are you.”

“Am not.”

“You’re worse than me.”

“Don’t make me put something terrible on, Araña.”

#spiderbyte #overwatch #widowmaker #sombra

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