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streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Somebody to you

Summary: Going on a school trip with your best friends is something you've ever wanted but luck wasn't on your side. Not only were you going to see your childhood enemy on the trip, but you had to share cabins with him due to unfortunate circumstances on your end. How would the trip turn out?

Theme: College au, enemies to lovers

Genre: a little angsty, slightly suggestive but nothing too serious, fluff ending

WC: 7.8k

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hey there :) This one is a little longer than my other fics. Tell me if there's any mistakes! Anyways, hope you like it :)))

“Okay everyone, so as you may all know, the school has decided to let a few selected classes from each course go on a field trip to the mountain lodge where you will get to take part in fun activities such as skiing. Those classes who are not selected for this trip will be going on a different trip respectively since they could not accommodate a whole resort for the entire school.”

The school’s principal said through the loud speaker, announcing the school trip to everyone on campus. After he called out the selected classes for each trip, the students were visibly excited. But even then, somehow, two students from two different classes couldn’t help but frown as they both let out a defeated sigh.

The thought of seeing each other on campus was already disappointing enough. But to be stuck on a resort with the other, definitely never crossed their minds. After class was dismissed, you packed your bags too slowly for Jennie’s liking as the older girl tapped your nose teasingly.

“Hey. What’s with the face? You okay?” Jennie asked.

“No? It’s already bad enough that I see his face here everyday. Why do I have to see him again for the trip?” You said in an annoyed tone, causing Lisa to exchange a knowing look with Jennie.

“Are you talking about Yunho?” Lisa asked, a small sympathetic smile appeared on her face.

“Who else?” You puffed your cheeks. You three soon left the classroom, only for Jennie to speak up. “Oh come on, Y/N… Let’s ignore him and just enjoy this trip, hmm? Besides, look on the bright side! Yeri, Jihyo, Sana, Chungha and Mina will be there too!” You could only groan, making the two girls laugh.

By now, everyone knew the two Tom and Jerry on campus. You would never go a day without at least one verbal fight with him. You had just entered the cafeteria, finding for an empty table when you spotted him from afar with your eagle eyes.

You internally groaned when he happened to turn towards your direction as though he knew you were right there.

Yunho gave you a cold stare before turning back to his friends, allowing his smile to reappear on his face as if nothing happened. You continued your day as usual, despite not looking forward to the trip that was set to due in a week's time.

The week passed by pretty fast as you were unfortunately running late due to morning traffic. When you arrived on campus, you were at least 20 minutes late. However, apparently everyone was already given the chance to find a partner for each room and there were a total of 32 cabin houses that could accommodate a maximum of 9 people in each house.

You looked around to find your friends, but you nearly dropped your bags when you realized that they already had 9 people. With two girls whom you weren’t close with but you recognized them to be Yeri’s classmates. Jennie and Jihyo frowned, mouthing a series of ‘sorry’s and also saying that the headmaster didn’t give them a choice to wait for you.

You shook your head and smiled, telling them that it was okay.

Just then, the headmaster turned to the latecomers only to speak up. “Do all of you have a cabin to join?” The 6 students shook their heads. Just then, a familiar voice spoke up from just two rows down.

“She can room with us. We have one extra spot left.” This made you turn your head, only to lock eyes with Jeong Yunho. Of course you would never agree to staying in a cabin together with him, but at that current moment, you had to weigh the pros and cons.

It’s either you stay with complete strangers who may or may not be the best of people or stay with an enemy whom you know almost your whole life and suffer with him for the next one week until the trip ends. What could possibly go wrong.

Eh, what the heck.

“Sure, I’ll stay with them.” You said as the headmaster nods, pointing his hand towards Yunho’s group of friends.

You hesitantly walked up to them but the minute you stepped foot in their circle, Yunho was quick to speak up.

“Just because I helped you, doesn’t mean I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Oh, I didn’t ask for your help anyway. And, don’t worry, I still hate you.” You said. Yunho made a face at you, earning a roll of your eyes. The rest of them who witnessed this couldn’t help but glance back and forth between the two enemies.

They were soon heading off class by class respectively. At this point, you were thankful that you could finally reunite with your best friends instead of being stuck with him.

The journey to the mountains took at least 4 hours but it was worth it.

When they arrived at the resort, it was a lot more beautiful than in the brochures. Everyone left the buses in awe at the spectacular scenery. Since it was almost the start of winter season, snow already began to coat the mountains and the roads in that area.

The temperature was cold and breezy, making them wear warm protective clothings. You got excited when you saw the skiing park right beside the resort, pulling Lisa and Jennie over to the railings. “Wow look!” You gasped with a bright smile on your face. Both Lisa and Jennie did the same as they watched the people ski down the slopes professionally.

After they’ve all entered the main lobby of the ski resort, the headmaster made an announcement.

“Alright everyone. When the staff calls out your name, please come and collect the keys to your cabins. I’ve already told the staff workers here to label and assign each cabin to the respective groups according to what you chose earlier. After I have dismissed everyone, you are free to roam around, explore this resort before going to the main food hall for lunch. I will give you about an hour and a half of free time. Do I make myself clear?”

Everyone responded in unison and soon, the staff member began to call out the names of the student representing each cabin to come forward and collect the keys. After everyone was done, they soon dispersed to go to their cabins.

You stuck with your friends as you followed them to their cabin. Unfortunately, their cabin was at least 5 blocks away. Making it difficult for you to even sneak out and go to their cabin at night like you planned. Nevertheless, the cabin interior looked really nice and cosy. The wooden interior makes it even more warm and spacious.

“Wow! It’s so pretty!”

“This is nothing like the pictures!”

“I wish we could live here together.”

A series of compliments were thrown the minute they entered the house. You were excited to stay in these kinds of cabins despite knowing you wouldn’t be sharing it with these bunch of people. The girls were about to explore more when you spoke up.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. Text me if you guys are going anywhere fun!” You laughed.

“I’m so sorry Y/N! I really hoped for all of us to stay together.” Jihyo apologized, making you shake your head.

“It’s fine. We’re gonna see each other often during the activities anyway.” You said before you waved goodbye to them, leaving the cabin to go to your designated one on the other side of the resort. When you were just 4 feet away, you could already see the shoes scattered around the doorstep, making you sigh.

You didn’t have anything against the guys, because it was quite easy to say that you knew most of them on a name basis just that you aren’t close friends. However, the only person you knew the longest but also happens to be your enemy since high school, was obviously Yunho.

So when you pushed the door open, you immediately took in the wonderful pinewood smell of the gorgeous cabin. Completely ignoring the excited males running around the lodge.

“Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Hongjoong acknowledged you first, causing the rest to do the same.

You gave them a small smile followed by a nod before entering the cabin further. Once you were standing in the living room, just staring at Seonghwa who was wrestling Yeosang, a voice spoke up from the steps. “All the rooms have only one bed each, 3 queens and 1 king. We’ve already decided who rooms with who.” Yunho announced coldly.

“And…?” You paused, urging him to continue.

“And? Isn’t it already obvious who you’re rooming with? The boys figured you wouldn’t be comfortable sharing a room with someone you didn’t know. But I’m taking the bed. You can sleep on the couch.” Yunho said. You rolled your eyes, proceeding to walk in his direction before you came to a stop in front of him.

“I’d rather sleep in the kitchen instead of sharing the bed with you.”

“Be my guest.” He taunts. You could only growl before heading up the stairs.

Hours went by in a flash and it was already dinner time. You were already exhausted from the activities you did earlier in the day. Already planning to take a shower and head to bed the minute you reach the cabin.

A few minutes later after everyone was dismissed from dinner to head back to their cabins and rest, as promised, you immediately went to your shared room with Yunho only to unpack your things and organize them a little before heading for a shower. You didn’t realize it had been almost an hour and it was nearly time for the lights to be out.

Students were told to turn their lights off and sleep by 10pm. It was already 9:47pm. Yunho was downstairs with everyone else, probably still playing games.

You decided to take a quick warm shower. Taking only your towel and phone with you. You completely missed out your new clean clothes, thinking you could just get them later after the shower. About a good half an hour later, you had just stepped out of the bathtub shower completely wet but definitely fresh.

You reached for the towel on the rack and soon towel dried your body slightly before wrapping it around your body. You turned off your phone and left the bathroom. However, what you didn’t expect to see was a room filled with guys. You shrieked upon seeing them, making them flinch as they turned around to look at you.

“What the hell are you all doing in my room?!” You nearly screamed from both annoyance and embarrassment.

“This is my room too, darling.” Yunho said with a smug look on his face.

“And didn’t you say you were hanging out downstairs?”

“Mr Kwon was going around doing his rounding duties.” Mingi said bashfully, eyes clearly respecting your almost naked figure just desperately clutching onto your towel for your dear life.

“And why of all the rooms, you chose this one?”

“Because I said so?” Yunho replied for Mingi, making you scowl.

“Have I mentioned I hate you?”

“Not today actually, no.”

“The least you could do was warn me, Yunho.” You loudly whispered.

He rolled his eyes at you thickly. The room fell silent but you were still staring at your bag that was placed perfectly beside San on the ground. You wanted to tell them to leave but you thought it might be a bit rude considering you weren't exactly friends with them.

Somehow, Yunho could sense your uncertainty. With that being said, he got up from the bed and walked over to your luggage on the floor. He took the carrier and brought it over to you by the bathroom door. “Here. No need to thank me.” He said before turning back to go to his friends.

You couldn’t help but stare at his descending back, unsure as to why you suddenly felt a weird pull in your stomach. You ignored the feeling and soon disappeared back into the bathroom to change into a pair of sweatpants, a shirt and a thick hoodie.

You came back out a few minutes later with slightly dryer hair since you spent about 10 minutes blow drying it. You placed the luggage back beside San, taking out your charger and plugged it on the side table. When you turned around, the boys were still chatting and playing their card game only to speak up to Wooyoung and Seonghwa who were sitting on the side opposite Yunho.

“Move elsewhere. I’m trying to sleep unlike you owls.” You groaned as the two boys scurried away to sit nearer towards the centre of the mattress.

Once you climbed onto the bed, Yunho raised his eyebrow up in question.

“Uhh, who said you’re sleeping here? You’re taking the couch.” Yunho said firmly with a hint of irritation in his voice but you couldn’t care less. “In your dreams.” You said as you turned to let your back face them under the covers.

You didn’t see his burning glare, closing your eyes to sleep.

You fell into a deep slumber within 5 minutes, you felt lethargic as it took over your body almost immediately. A few minutes went by, the boys were still in the room playing a series of games from both card games to truth or dares. Remembering to keep their voices at a minimum. They were half way through playing Uno when they heard a shuffle coming from behind Seonghwa.

They watched as you rolled over in your sleep, only to face them.

But what made them feel so endeared by it was the way you laid. You were laying on your side, one hand tucked under the pillow. The other rested in front of your face, in a way covering your face.

Your hair draped over your face while your lips parted open very slightly. There was a few stifled laughter filling the room, only for Wooyoung to speak up in a hushed tone. “How is she so cold and feisty when she’s awake but so cute and vulnerable when she’s asleep?”

“I know right? Look at her.” Hongjoong giggled softly.

“You cannot not tell me you don’t find her attractive, even the slightest bit.” Yeosang directed his question to Yunho who was seen staring at your peaceful figure.

“I don’t know if I can answer you…” Yunho whispered.

The guys smiled as they continued playing the game. About half an hour later, Hongjoong was the first to urge the rest to head to bed since it was already late and that they should let you rest.

They left the room, not forgetting to clean the room after themselves. The minute everyone was out the door with only Yunho left in the room, he turned around to look at your sleeping figure. Yunho very quietly made his way to you, only to stop behind you. He carefully reached up, letting his hand hover over your face for a second.

He let out a soft sigh before he gently tucked your stray hairs behind your ear. Careful not to wake you up. Yunho couldn’t help but stare at you for a little while longer before he spoke up very quietly to no one in particular.

“What are you doing to me, Y/N?”

You stirred awake in the middle of the night, feeling the urgent need to use the bathroom. You got up groggily, only to shuffle your way to the bathroom. After you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom only to turn the lights off and head back to the bed. However, before you could lay back down, you saw Yunho curled up on the couch. From where you stood, his back was facing you but he looked fairly cold as his body was shivering slightly.

Despite the heaters in the cabin, the cold breeze from outside still managed to seep into the cabin.

You didn’t know why but you felt bad seeing him in that state. You wished you could just wake him up and call him into bed but you were afraid he might feel uncomfortable with it. So you opted to just take two of your jackets, one thick jacket and one full length windbreaker.

You quietly made your way to him, only to drape both jackets over his frame. He shifted in his sleep but never woke up. You carefully went back to bed, giving him one last glance before laying back down again.

5 hours later, Yunho woke up to a weird feeling of warmth engulfing his whole body. He remembered the night to be cold. For all he knew he was shivering last night. Yunho fluttered his eyes open, looking around to see what was the cause of warmth. That’s when he notices the pile of jackets on top of his frame.

He knew for a fact that it wasn’t his. With that being said, he glanced behind him only to see you still fast asleep on the bed. He couldn’t help but smile as he got up to take a shower.

Minutes turned into hours, they were all gathered by the ski lodge to go snowboarding. They stood according to the people in each cabin. You were standing between Jongho and Yeosang, while Yunho stood behind you.

They managed to follow the safety guidelines correctly, only for you to join your friends instead of sticking with the boys. They of course didn’t stop you from going. However, that doesn’t mean Yunho would choose to stop keeping his eye on you from afar. Others might think he’s just figuring out ways to torment you and cause you to make a fool out of herself since they always fought with one another.

But in reality, he was keeping an eye on you to make sure you never hurt yourself because after last night, he suddenly had a change of heart towards you. He just doesn’t want to admit it yet. You were racing down the hill with Yeri a few feet behind you, wanting to challenge each other to see who could win.

You were reaching the bottom but you didn’t notice the boulder ledge right in front of you until a voice called out to you from ahead. It was Chungha and Mina.

“Y/N, watch out!”

You didn’t have enough time to react, your nervousness took over the board as it began to wobble. You were just about to hit the boulder when somebody came swooping in from your left, toppling you over the hill instead of the ledge. Your heart jumped out of your chest as a scream left your lips.

You couldn’t even bother to see who saved you from plunging to your death as your bodies tumbled down the hill mercilessly. But the person who saved you, was holding you tightly against them. Putting a hand behind your head to protect it. Just when you finally rolled to a stop, that’s when you carefully pulled away.

You could hear a whole series of voices calling out to them but you couldn’t care less.

You were about to thank whoever that saved you but your words got stuck in your throat when you realized who it was. You were laying on top of him with your hands tucked between your chests. His arms were wrapped around your body, keeping you close to him. Snowflakes coated his hair and little on his face, probably the same for you.

Your faces were just inches away from each other but nobody wanted to pull away. “Are… Are you okay?” Yunho asked softly.

“Y-Yeah… you?”

“Mhm.”

With that, you carefully got off him. While Mingi and Hongjoong helped Yunho up, Jennie and Sana rushed over to help you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked him again, definitely not buying his answer since he practically took most of the hit. You knew he was at least in a mild pain but he put up a strong front. “I’m fine… really.” Yunho said. And for the first time ever, he flashed you a genuine smile that somewhat made you feel something in the pit of your stomach.

After dinner, they all headed back to the cabin where the boys were all tired and agreed to rest early for the night. Yunho showered first before letting you use the bathroom. Needless to say, the two of you didn’t argue much ever since the incident earlier. You simply talked to each other when you needed to.

You left the shower wearing a hoodie and a pair of loose pyjama pants. Yunho was just taking a few pillows from the bed when you stopped him.

“Yunho… uhh, you can take the bed. I’m not sleeping yet.” You said. Of course he took this chance to sleep on the bed, he did feel unsure if he should let you sleep on the couch. Before he could say anything, you left the room not forgetting to remind him again slightly louder.

“Sleep on the bed.” You soon closed the bedroom door only to head downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea. You could feel yourself starting to catch a cold, hoping the tea could cure your sickness.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you went downstairs. After what felt like forever, you finally went to wash your mug before going back up.

You came back to find Yunho lightly snoring on the queen sized bed. The cabin was still chilly despite the heaters so he had a hoodie on. The thick duvet covered up to his waist. He was laying with his stomach down, arms tucked under the pillow to support his head. He was facing the couch but he looked too pure and peaceful for you to even feel creeped out.

You found yourself smiling softly at him before going over to the couch. You laid there for a moment before you too fell asleep.

It was almost 4 hours later that he woke up to go to the bathroom. He turned off the bathroom lights and closed the door, ready to head back to bed when he saw you on the couch. You looked like you were shivering even though you had a thick hoodie on.

Yunho’s lips tugged into a smile as he walked up to you only to stop behind your figure. He shook his head softly at you before carefully slipping his arms underneath your knees and torso. Yunho swiftly lifts you off the couch, earning a very light groan from you. He carried you all the way to the bed, tucking you underneath the duvet before climbing in beside you.

Once he was sharing the space with you, Yunho gently pulled you against him until you were practically side hugging him. After he managed to find a comfortable position for both of you, that’s when he finally relaxed. He made you rest your head on his shoulder while his other arm rests on top of his chest.

Your right hand was tucked between your bodies while your left arm was draped over his stomach.

Immediately, the warmth was too nice to ignore as he soon fell asleep not before planting a very chaste kiss onto the top of your head. Yunho had no idea why he did that. He just felt like doing it.

The next morning, you woke up to an unusual warmth hugging your body. You never felt this warm during the previous morning when you woke up. You thought it was the heater’s work so you instantly relaxed further into the warmth. Just then, you felt a soft squeeze on your waist, making you open your eyes.

You carefully looked down to see an arm hugging your waist from the back. You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. Just this alone was enough to make your cheeks flush red.

You mentally shook your thoughts away before you cautiously slipped out of his grasp to take a shower and got ready for breakfast. Thankfully, neither of you acknowledged it to avoid any awkwardness.

Hours went by and the activities today were less tiring but it did drain a bit of their energies. The boys were quite charged that night as all 8 of them gathered in the lounge area of their cabin. It was already half past eleven at night. The boys were just playing Jenga when Wooyoung noticed a figure stepping foot on the ground step by the stairs.

“Oh, Y/N. Are we being too loud?” He asked with a slight crinkle in his face, afraid of you lashing out. But instead, you smiled while shaking your head.

“No… I just… I couldn’t sleep…” You admitted to it shyly, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie before looking up to accidentally lock eyes with Yunho. Just then, Yeosang spoke up, asking if you wanted to join them. It took you less than a second to nod in agreement, making Yunho scoot over a little before patting down the space beside him.

Minutes ticked by as you watched them play, occasionally joining in. However, your eyes started to become droopy. Sleep was slowly taking over you as your head felt light with each passing minute.

Just then, right when Mingi was about to pull out the Jenga wood, Yunho felt a sudden weight on his left shoulder making him glancing down. That’s when he saw you resting your head on top of his shoulder. Since he couldn’t see if your eyes were closed or not, Yunho gently pat Jongho’s thigh who was seated on his right.

“Is she asleep?” Yunho whispered. The younger boy leaned over to take a peek. Curiously enough, the rest did the same.

“Yeap.” Jongho said softly in return, a smile gracing his lips. Yunho felt your hand grow limp on his sides before it dropped to his upper thigh, close to his hip bone. He glanced back up to see the rest of them smirking and giving him suggestive looks before one by one began to tease him.

“Looks like you’re finally weak for her huh?”

“Are you sure you hate her? You definitely don’t look like you do.”

“Sure, push her away if you hate her.”

“Do you need us to give you more proof that you’re actually in love with her?” Yunho simply glared at all of them, hoping you didn't hear any of this and thankfully, you didn’t.

About an hour later, everyone was heading to bed so while everyone was going to clear up the mess, the boys told Yunho to bring you upstairs. Yunho gently woke you up, shaking your arm softly.

“Y/N? Hey… wake up. Let’s go sleep upstairs, hmm?” His voice soothing to the ears. You stirred awake only to tilt your head up, too tired to realize how close your lips were. But of course, Yunho was too awake to notice the distance.

“Let’s go back to our room.” Yunho said as you nodded, struggling to stand up. Once you managed to find your balance, you made your way up with him to make sure you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself while going up the stairs.

Once they were both in your rooms, you walked over to the couch, making him stop you. “Woah, where are you going?”

“The couch?”

“What? Why?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“I thought you didn’t want me to sleep on the bed?” You asked, clearly still groggy from the nap. This made him let out a soft chuckle before walking to you. Yunho slides his hand around your waist only to guide you to the bed. If you were slightly more awake, you would have turned into a blushing mess. Once he sat you on the bed, he urged you to sleep.

“Then, where are you sleeping?” You asked with a small pout on your lip. Damn, you were making it so hard for him. “It’s okay. Just sleep. I’m not gonna do anything.”

“No, no, I know… It’s just… I want you to sleep with me… I mean, share the bed. It’s not too comfortable on the couch to be honest.” You finally admitted, making him smile. Yunho couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your words even though it was the most innocent thing he’s ever heard from you.

He gave in to your request, quickly taking off the hoodie he was wearing, only to leave the thin sweater he was wearing underneath. He soon climbed into bed after turning off the main lights in the room.

The minute he laid down on the mattress, you instantly craved for his warmth just like the night before.

Yunho allowed you to lay however you wanted, resorting to your head on his chest while your hands were hugging his torso. He could feel your legs tangle with his. The warmth engulfing you nicely. The both of you soon fell asleep without even waking up in the middle of the night unlike the previous nights.

The next morning, you both stirred awake around the same time. Neither of you realized the position they slept in until you moved your head slightly to feel his lips brush against yours. You were laying on your back with him on his side, so close to you as he hugged your waist.

Initially, your head was turned away from him but when you woke up, you turned your head to the opposite side. That’s when your lips accidentally brushed over his. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest while he grew awake when he felt that small skin ship. The room fell quiet for a second, simply just staring at each other. You were the first to pull away, climbing out of bed to excuse yourself to shower.

A few hours later, they had just gone back from husky sledding and ice karting. They were all gathered to eat dinner. Yunho was seated with his friends while you sat with your friends a few rows down from him.

But from where he sat, they could clearly see each other. Halfway through dinner, the host announced a quick game of run and hide. The objective of the game was for the leaders of each course to try and find the hidden treasure located somewhere in the resort. However, there will be a surprise during the game. Whoever finds the treasure and successfully brings it back to the dinner hall wins.

You turned to Lisa and Chungha who were seated opposite of you when you heard them squeak.

“I would rather stay here.”

“Me too!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as your eyes naturally found its way to Yunho’s. Your gaze lingered on each other for a minute before you looked away. The selected leaders were being called upon, with you being one of them.

Even though you were dreading this idea, you didn’t want to disappoint your classmates and course mates. You got led to the front along with 4 other students. You looked around to see that they were all students you weren't familiar with.

Besides, since you were going against each other, being in alliances wasn’t really important. However, your strategy soon got thrown in the bin when Yunho was pulled up to a stop beside you. You looked at him for a brief second, only to see a small smirk on his face. You tried to hide your smile by looking away but your lips gave it away and he definitely saw it.

The instructions were given, brand new torchlights were distributed and everyone was ready to find the hidden treasure. Once the whistle was blown, all 6 students dispersed to find the hidden treasure.

You and Yunho went separate ways at first. You went to the east side of the resort while he went to the west side. They were told that the treasure is not hidden in the cabins so you avoided doing that. The only areas that were out of bounds were the cabins and the forest that led to the mountains. Other than that, every other place is accessible.

You carefully searched through the trees along the pathway, searching along the cabin houses. Everywhere you could think of.

You were too busy searching for the treasure that you didn’t notice the person wearing a scary mask walking down the path with chains tied to his wrists. The man looked scary as he had a weird way of walking, almost like he was limping.

You were about to turn the corner when someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, using one hand to cover your mouth from behind. Once you were both squatting down behind the small bush, you let out a soft yelp as you felt yourself crash against a firm back. You glanced back to lock eyes with Yunho who whispered to your ear.

“Don’t scream…”

You were about to question him when the chains being dragged on the floor, followed by a low growl made you whip your head forwards. You clutched onto Yunho’s forearm out of fear as he slowly removed his hand from your mouth. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked when you turned around to face him.

You tried to ignore the close proximity but he was doing nothing to hide his wandering eyes that travelled from your eyes to your nose, down to your lips and then back to your eyes. “I saw you searching through the bush and then I saw him.” Yunho said before looking back down at your lips again. This was enough to make your heart skip a beat as you turned back around to hide your blush by peeking out the gap to check if the coast was clear.

“I think we should-” You said as you turned around to talk to him when you saw the man dressed in the same way as the previous scary dude just metres behind Yunho.

“Go! Get up!” You yelled as you grabbed his hand and soon the both of them ran out the little alley between the two cabins. You ran hand in hand only for you to realize that there was more than one of them.

“This way!” Yunho said, bringing you back to the main building of the resort. You made your way to the other side of the building, only to come to a halt when Yunho spotted a treasure chest sitting behind the reception counter. It was hidden on the bottom shelf where no one could easily see unless they went close to the counter.

“Excuse me! Can you pass me that treasure box?” Yunho said to the clerk working behind the counter. She went over to the treasure box, only for you to see that you’re being cornered by the scary looking people.

“Yunho…” You warned by tugging on his sleeves and of course he got the signal.

The minute he took the treasure box, he quickly laced his fingers with yours and soon bolted down the lobby towards the main outdoor food hall. The two of you ran despite being chased by the scary looking men.

You were just a few feet away when a few same looking men blocked their paths right at the side entrance of the hall, making you both halt your steps. The other students who were watching gasped and screamed at you to take the other entrance on the other side. Yunho turned to you and asked if you could sprint. When you nodded, he told you to run around the back of the hall and go to the other entrance.

He managed to distract the men while you ran and when you successfully entered, you went straight to where the host and the other 4 students were. Who had treasure boxes too but they were empty.

Yunho managed to enter the hall, a few minutes later with a smaller treasure chest in his arms.

The host opened your boxes at the same time, only to reveal that your box was the correct hidden treasure, earning your course the win. Everyone cheered as you turned to Yunho who had a bright smile on his lips.

You then remembered what happened earlier beside the cabin. The memories came flooding in and you couldn’t seem to get that out of your mind.

Yunho took a few steps closer until he was right in front of her. You weren't sure what he was doing so when he pulled you into a hug, you found herself smiling against his chest. Both their friends were definitely shocked by this comeback but nevertheless they were glad that you two wouldn’t be fighting anymore.

After dinner was over, they all headed back to their own cabins. You hugged your girlfriends goodbye before joining Yunho and the others. They were walking down the path in silence while his friends were occupied with chatting to each other. The two of you were walking a few steps behind. Neither of you said a word until he spoke up first.

“I didn’t think you could run that fast.”

“I used to be a part of the track and field back in high school, remember? Or maybe you just didn’t realise since, you know...” A soft chuckle left your lips, making him do the same.

“Sorry if I scared you earlier.” He apologized.

“It’s okay. For all we know, you actually helped me from getting caught.” Yunho let out a laugh as they turned to enter their cabin.

He let you walk in first, holding the door for you. Such a gentleman. Once they were in, Wooyoung immediately took off his windbreaker and yelled happily. “Hey guys! Should we watch a movie tonight?” A series of yes went around only for you to turn to Yunho who was already staring at you expectantly.

“You can join them if you want. I think I’m gonna rest for a bit. I’ll see if I wanna join after.” You said, making the boys nod.

They all soon dispersed to their own rooms as Yunho followed behind you. Once you were in your shared room, he told you to shower first and so you did. But while waiting for you, Yunho sat on the bed in silence. Just thinking about how good it felt to hug you earlier and be that close to you.

Of course cuddling in bed is nice but you’ve never been that close in public. And for some reason, he liked it. He didn’t realize how long he had been sitting there for until he heard the bathroom door unlock. And out comes a freshly showered you with only a towel wrapped around your body. If he were to guess, you probably forgot to take your new clothes again.

“Forgot to take your clothes again?” Yunho asked with a soft chuckle, making you giggle with a nod.

He watched as you walked to your luggage, only to squat down to find your clothes. Once you took the clothes you wanted to wear, you excused yourself to go change and he just nodded. About 3 minutes later, you came back out looking as cozy as ever and all he wanted to do was hug you.

“Your turn.” You simply said, seeing him nod in response. When he disappeared into the bathroom, it was your turn to sit on the bed. You were just scrolling through your phone, looking at the pictures Lisa took of you at the ski lodge when you heard Yunho left the bathroom.

You looked up to find him walking out with just grey sweatpants on and nothing for his top.

Has he always been this toned?

You looked away to avoid him from thinking you were a creep, only to hear him chuckle. A few seconds later, he walked to you, stopping in front of you. Since you were sitting with your legs dangling off the bed due to using your phone while it's charging, Yunho had to stand almost in between your legs. That is if he took a few steps forward.

“Are you really not coming down?” He asked.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Come on, let’s hang out for a bit. When have we ever been this close without actually being on each other’s throats?” His comment made both of you laugh as you realized he was right.

Just then, he extended his hand out for you to take. So you did. However, before you could go far, you tugged on his hand while staying in place. Yunho turned around to look at you, silently asking if something was wrong. But instead of talking, you decided that actions definitely speak louder than words.

With that being said, you took two small steps only to lean up, pressing your lips softly on his. You could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you kissed him. Your lips soon curved into a smile as you felt him snake his hands around your waist.

He pulled you against him, only to guide you gently back down onto the bed. He scooted you up a little before climbing onto the mattress, resting in between your legs while he hovered over you.

Your lips never once parted.

Yunho hugged your waist as he carefully slid his hands underneath your hoodie. He slides his hands up your sides while he kisses your lips passionately before making his way down your neck. You were playing with his hair, feeling him kiss your neck when there was a sudden knock on the door.

It made both of you jump while he pressed his forehead into the crook of your neck. He planted a quick kiss to your collarbone before he pulled away to speak up. “What?”

“Hyung. Noona. Are you guys coming down to join us?” Jongho’s voice sounded muffled from the other side of the wooden door, making you giggle softly underneath him.

“Yeah, we’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay!” Jongho said, and once he was gone, Yunho turned back to you with a small smile that melted your heart. “Do you still want me to say I hate you?” He whispered as his eyes lingered on your lips.

“Only if you want me to say I hate you too.” You teased.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t want that.” Yunho said before kissing you on the lips again, feeling you wrap an arm around his head to play with his hair. Something he was weak for.

Yunho gently caressed your sides, messaging the skin on your waist. His hands remained respectful so as to not touch you inappropriately without your consent. Just when he wanted to pull away, you purposely bucked your hips up, brushing your lower half against his.

A soft groan left his lips as he sucked in his breath. “Look who’s being needy now.” He teased.

“I’m not the only one.”

Yunho emitted a low growl from his throat, only to kiss you again. Except this time, his kiss was slightly rougher. He kissed his way down your neck, only to leave a mark on your skin where your shoulders and neck meet. You hissed when you felt him bite your skin. Yunho pulled away to see his art, making you blush.

“Are you seriously marking me now?” You asked with a laugh.

“Why not? At least now people know we’re no longer enemies.” He shrugged, earning a soft slap to his chest.

He couldn’t help but give you his cute toothy grin before kissing you on the lips again and soon helped you up. He threw over a shirt before they headed downstairs to find the boys already scattered around the living room. “Oh yay! You guys made it! Come on, we’re watching Infinity War!” San announced as they made extra room for Yunho and you.

You ended up sitting in between Yunho and Yeosang, but the minute you sat down, the other boy noticed the bruise growing on your neck. This made Yeosang smirk as he tried to come up with an excuse to make you leave the room for a bit.

“Y/N, can you help me get the box of soda on the counter? I forgot to take it.”

“Sure.” You soon got up to leave and the minute you’re gone, Yeosang turned to Yunho with a knowing smirk on his face.

“So, you two finally got along?” Yunho got confused at first but then when Yeosang pointed to the spot in between his neck and shoulder, the boy finally understood what Yeosang was referring to. He could only whisper a quick “shut up or I’ll kill you” before you came back.

The rest of them smirked at Yunho as well, only for you to get confused. “Is everything okay?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, everything’s okay. Is everything okay with you?” Hongjoong teased, making you frown.

“Yeah…?” Some of them were seen giggling and you were still confused. So a brilliant idea flashed into Yunho’s brain, wanting everyone to shut up. With that being said, he gently cups your chin and turns your head to him only to kiss you outrightly in front of the others. You immediately melted against his lips, ignoring both the screeches and giggles coming from all the boys.

Yunho bravely kisses down your neck to go over the spot that was now bruised, only to lick the burning skin. Yeosang faked a gag as he groaned in his spot.

“Okay, okay! We get it. Jeez.” Yeosang said, earning a laugh from the others. Yunho pulled away with a smirk on his face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Good. If any of you open your mouth about this to anyone, I’m gonna keep doing that in front of you.” Yunho warned teasingly, making them agree to the deal. your cheeks were burning red now as you turned your face to bury them in his shoulder.

Yunho could only chuckle as he kissed the top of your head lovingly, making your stomach do a flip.

That night before you went to sleep, you broke the news to your friends in your group chat. Everyone went crazy but they were happy for you. It was quite needless to say that almost all of them had expected this day to come sooner or later.

The two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, with him holding you close. Yunho was happy to say the least. Since he’s actually had the longest crush on you just that he never admitted to it. He pretended to hate you because he was too shy to tell you how he really felt about you. He was just glad that both your classes were chosen to go on that trip.

~~~

#ateez scenarios #ateez yunho #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez yunho imagines #atz yunho #ateez yunho fluff #atz yunho fluff

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

Nothing Alike: II

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Is that a backstory and angst I smell??

Masterlist

Geralt was enjoying the spring afternoon when she started yelling at him…or at least she tried.

“Ah you’re awake,” he replied to her gagged screams. She was squirming behind him, probably trying to get out of the well placed knots he had tied to ensure she wouldn’t get away when she did finally wake up. He noticed Roach getting restless, annoyed both with the extra passenger and her lack of manners, so Geralt gave her a little shove, sending her toppling to the ground. She hit the ground with a thud and flipped over to glare at him.

If she hadn’t been mad before, she definitely was now. In the fall her gag had come lose and now he was being subject to ever single word she had to say. So much for enjoying the afternoon.

“I should fucking kill you, you fucking coward. Where do you get off kidnapping me?” she howled, struggling against the binds. When she failed, dangerous eyes flashed at him and she snarled. “Let me go now, and I promise I won’t kill you.”

“You’re not really in the position for bargaining.”

“Yet.”

“Say I let you go, what then?”

“I’ll join a convent and repent and pray to God every day,” she began before bursting into laughter and laying in the grass. “I thought I could say it, but even your horse knew that was horse shit, I’m going to go back to where I came from and make some money.”

“Then I can’t let you go.”

“What’s it to you anyways?”

“People already don’t trust Witchers, it’s not going to get any better if word gets around that one is robbing a town of its money.”

“I won it fair and square, no robbery required.”

“Of course, fair and square, with nothing but a genetic mutation on your side.” She sent him another glare, trying to subtly slide the ropes from her legs. “If you try running, I’ll catch you.”

“Oh please, last time you got lucky.”

“No, you underestimated me.”

“Well when you look like that I’m not exactly wowed,” she sneered.

“You talk big game for being the one tied.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been tied up, c’mon being the only female Witcher who isn’t dying through the trials is sure to make me some enemies. Don’t worry, I took care of them.”

“The only female Witcher?”

“Oh, you haven’t been keeping up with your old school I see. We’re kind of a new idea, most of us die off, actually all of us died off, except me, I lived out of spite. And now I’m being harassed by another Witcher who thinks he’s got some holy purpose, well it turns out you don’t. Go, do whatever you want, stop killing monsters and make a good life for yourself, but before you do all that untie me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she growled, struggling with the knots a little more frantically now.

“They hired me to get rid of you, if I let you go you’ll just go back, and then they’ve wrongfully paid me, plus they think you’re dead.”

“They think I’m what?” she yelled.

“Dead, I told them you were.”

“Then why aren’t I?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Anything is better than being babysat by some holier-than-thou, thousand-year-old, Witcher who wouldn’t know how to have fun if it sprouted out of his big toe.” Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, considering if he should have killed her in that alley. “Why do you want me around anyway?” His anger fizzled away for a moment at that question. It sounded just as biting as the rest, but something else had slithered into her tone, a sliver of self-deprecation perhaps? And it made him think, why did he take her, why when she was nothing but agony in his side did he bother bringing her with him.

“Because I want to know you,” he said and she snorted. She was laughing at him without a care in the world.

“Why on earth would you want to know me.”

“Consider it a study, you’re the first witcher I’ve met who didn’t go right to work, who didn’t take the weight of the world upon yourself and work yourself into nothing but blood and rust mixing with the dirt.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Maybe not to you, but all I heard was, a witcher who knows how to enjoy life.” He snarled and she laughed. “If you’re going to study me you should probably untie me.”

“How about you answer some of my questions and then I untie you.” She considered it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons before she brightened with a grin.

“I’m an open book.” He climbed off his horse and ungracefully pulled her over to a boulder, perching her on top of it. He tied Roach to a tree and took a seat on his own stump.

“How long have you been out of the academy?”

“A couple weeks.”

“How old are you?”

“Geralt, you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age,” she teased, ignoring the annoyed look he sent her. “22, in real time.”

“Young to be a Witcher.”

“Like I said, I’m special,” she sneered.

“What do you mean by special.”

“Fuck if I know, that’s just what they told me.”

“Do you have a guess.”

“A few.”

“Are you going to share?”

“Are you going to make me?”

“No.”

“Then I think I would like to keep it to myself.” He nodded sharply before continuing.

“How long were you in that town.”

“The moment they let me go.”

“Did you try to leave before then.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“How do you know I succeeded?”

“The scars above your collar.” Subconsciously, she raised her shoulders, shifting her collar to cover the pink scars.

“They’re not from escaping, they did other things for escaping, but I tried to go home. I thought I could go back to living with my mother after she sold me out. Guess I was wrong, she sold me out again and got another purse of gold for her trouble. Then they locked me in a box, told me what being caged really felt like.”

“What are the scars from?”

“Various other incidents.”

“So, you were a regular problem then?”

“Of course.”

“Anything in particular stand out?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean any crimes that were really heinous.”

“I killed an instructor once, it was an accident but it still happened.” Geralt didn’t continue for a moment, reading the look of regret on her face. She smiled at him, almost exhausted, praying that he wouldn’t ask her to discuss it further.

“What about the boys at school, did they torment you?”

“All the time, I got used to it.”

“How bad did it get?”

“One time they cornered me late at night, held a knife to my throat and dragged me to the window. They wanted me to admit I was a whore, that I was sleeping with our instructors. I wouldn’t say it though, they threatened me for what seemed like hours, pushing me just a little too far before yanking me back inside, letting my feet slip against the windowsill. They wanted me to beg and scream for help.”

“Did you say it?”

“No.”

“And what happened?”

“They dropped me. I thought I was as good as dead, but I refused to scream, even on the way down. I hit a snow drift and walked away unscathed. They thought I would leave that night so I am pleased to say they were shocked to see me walk in the next day ready to fight.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“If I had told someone they would know exactly who shoved him down the stairs two nights later. His nose is still busted, well was.”

“Was?”

“He was one of the lucky fellows who tried to get rid of me before you came along. He’s the only one it was a pleasure to kill.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Five.” Geralt clenched his fists, she had killed five witchers, more than any monster or mage could claim and he was allowing her to live. Why was he letting her live? “Any other questions?”

“How did you feel when you killed them?”

“Terrible. I buried them, gave each of them a proper burial, except my tormentor of course. I tried to get them to leave me alone, to leave but they just wouldn’t go away. I begged them yknow, pleaded while they tried to kill me. I just wanted to be free but they saw nothing but my blood on their silver bladed sword. Until you came along of course.” He stayed silent, watching her shifting in her bindings.

“Why don’t you want to be a witcher?”

“It was an accident I became one, a curse from God. I should have died, they were willing to let me die. I’m not going to come close to death because of them ever again, not the school, the King, or God himself can make me.”

“What about me.” She glanced at him and grinned but said nothing. He reached over and sliced her bindings with the knife she had stabbed him with the day prior. “Don’t run off, we’re heading towards the moors tomorrow.”

She was gone the next morning.

Taglist: @stuckupstucky @aurora-sweet @holyhumorliteraturelight @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire

#Geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia x reader fluff #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt of rivia x reader angst

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whattodowithkpop · 4 years

Text

When The Clock Strikes 12 (Minghao)

A HUGE thanks to @woozisnoots for making the banner!! She did an awesome job!

~~~~~

Pairing: Minghao X Reader

Genre: No Romance

Word Count: 2.8K Words

A/N- I used the title: When the Clock Strikes 12 and the AU Assassin + Masquerade.

I quickly smooth out my black dress, feeling exposed due to its tightness and my unfamiliarity in these types of outfits. I adjust my black, sparkly mask that sat over my eyes, concealing my identity to a point as it shone in the moonlight. I finally reach the double doors that were adorned in gold, towering over any other building in the city. If I wasn’t so focused on my task at hand I would’ve gawked more at the fine details, but I had no such time.

The guards that stood firmly at the door greeted me with a bow to which I returned. One held out his hand, silently asking me for my entry pass. I retrieve the invite from my small clutch, seeing the gold detailing decorating the smooth, thick paper. The guards inspect my invite, nodding as they hand it back to me, stepping back to let me enter the palace.

I enter the palace, all of my senses immediately being bombarded from every angle. The smell of Lilacs flood into my nose, a sense of calm falling over me. The sound of loud chatter and laughter reach my ears, giving my brain some discomfort due to the shrill noises. The rush of cool air reaches my skin, goosebumps rising over my exposed skin that the dress seemed to show a lot of. I see the giant entryway, filled to the brim with marble statues and expensive paintings, each priced over the worth of the palace itself. Even in the dimly lit room I can see the marble floors stretch out across the whole room, even reaching out into the other rooms from what I could see of them. The gold detailing that furnished the door continued their way into the entryway and on the staircase that lead to the upper levels. I knew that the Xu family was rich, but seeing these things with my own eyes really puts their wealth into perspective. I take notes of all these things, filing them to memory as I make my towards the room where all the commotion was coming from. The lights continue to brighten as I make my way through the heavily decorated halls, scanning the areas for anything I needed to remember. I reach the ballroom, my senses being overloaded once again. The crystal chandlers light up the whole room, leaving no dark places in the giant room. Many people were on the ballroom floor, dancing to the soft music that could barley be heard of the laughter from the lords and ladies. Each person’s identity covered by their masks, making it impossible to distinguish who was of royalty and who was not. I suddenly became hyper aware of how much I didn’t fit in with these noble entities that occupied the room. I let out a shaky breath, refocusing on my job. I pull an envelope from my clutch, opening it gently across the seam. A small note was nested at the bottom. I open it gently, reading the cursive handwriting that flowed across the paper.

‘When the clock strikes 12…’

I raise my head, finding the massive clock the hung on the far wall. The diamond hands showing the time to be ‘10:30’. I nod tin acknowledgment, tucking the note back into the envelope and then back into my clutch. I adjust my back, feeling the cold steel press against my skin under my dress. I survey the area spotting a crow’s nest in the rafters, picking that as my spot.

I begin my descent down the staircase, using the railing as support as I walk down the steps carefully in my heels that I wasn't used to. They clicked against the floor, making my approach evident. I reach the floor, trying my best to walk gracefully against the expanse of the room, reaching the platform where the royal family did all of their speeches and announcements. It stood below the large clock, having it’s own diamond accents to match the hands.

As I was running my fingers along the diamond features, a soft voice catches my attention.

“It’s intricate.” The voice states calmly as I twist my body to face him.

A young man stood before me with his hands behind his back as he took in the details of my appearance. His black suit was blacker than any suit I had ever seen, his tie matching the dark suit. His white button down shirt was a crisp white, contrasting against the black nicely and making it enjoyable to look at. In his pocket sat a red and gold pocket square, giving his outfit a pop of color that it didn’t really need but just added to the whole concept. His mask matched his pocket square, the gold mask lay over his eyes being embellished by ruby jewels that were tastefully placed across the mask, disguising his identity effectively. His dark hair was styled nicely, seeming professional but still having fluff to it.

“Indeed it is.” I agree with the man as he steps forward, standing next to me.

“I feel so sorry for the prince.” He mentions suddenly as he looks at the podium.

The prince was being installed upon the throne tonight. His family had suffered tragedy and he is all that’s left of the royal bloodline. He is quite young to become king, having just turned 18 this year he would be the youngest king to rule this kingdom.

“I feel he may not have such a hard time.” I comment, being vague in my response, but having full confidence that my plan would destroy the royal bloodline tonight.

“Why do you say so?” The masked man asks, his body turned towards me.

“I think the prince will take a much needed rest.” I reply, watching the seconds tick away on the clock.

“You’re quite intriguing.” The man notes, facing forward again.

We stand in silence, both of us watching the clock in comfort.

“When will the prince appear?” I ask suddenly, curiosity getting the better of me.

“He is supposed to make an announcement at midnight.” The man tells me. “Are you perhaps looking to court the young royal?”

I laugh obnoxiously, my head falling back at the force of my laughter. “As tempting as that offer is I will pass this time.”

The man smiles at my response, nodding in acknowledgment before facing the clock once more.

The music’s demeanor takes a change, it’s fast paced rhythm slowing to a calm. Everyone begins to pair up, entering the dance floor for the slow dance.

The man looks over to me, his movement catching my attention. He smiles through his mask, out stretching his hand towards me.

“Would you like to dance?”

I stare at his hand for a moment, debating whether or not to accept his offer. After weighing the pros and cons, I decided it would be good to participate in some party activities so as not to draw attention to myself.

“I would.” I smile at him, reaching my hand out to touch his which he grabs mine gently as he leads me to the middle of the room.

He wraps his arm around my waist respectfully, not making me uncomfortable by his touch. His hand keeps a firm grip over mine as I reach my other hand to rest on his shoulder. He smiles down at me as he makes his first movements, moving us gracefully across the floor.

I smile brightly, basking in the feeling of being whisked around across the floor, genuinely enjoying the dance. It felt as if we were being watched by the guests of the party, but my curiosity over this matter was drowned out by the music that was playing softly through the room.

The song comes to an end, our swaying ending with it. The man and I detach ourselves from each other, giving a quick bow to each other.

“I must say, you’re an interesting woman.” He states with a half smile gracing his lips.

“Likewise.” I smile at him mischievously, rather enjoying his company.

I hear the toll of the clock alerting the guests of the part that it was now 11:00. My eyes widen, realizing I didnt have much time left.

“I must get going.” I tell them man quickly, bowing in farewell.

“Take care, my lady.” He bows back.

I past him quickly, towards the stairs that lead back up towards the entryway. I reach the top just as a microphone’s feedback screeches through the room, alerting the room of the man that stood behind the podium that sat atop the large platform.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” The man greets, prompting everyone to rush to the platform to crowd around the man as close as they could. I blow out a breath of air, feeling relief that no eyes would be on me fore awhile. I quickly exit the room, hugging the wall as I travel through the halls towards the entryway. I could still hear the man’s voice travel through the rooms.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight.” The man continues. “As you know, tonight is a special night for me as I know take over the title of King.” Cheer and claps erupt from the masses at The Prince’s words.

“The circumstances under which I am receiving this title so early are not pleasant as we all know.” He voice continues as I reach the entryway, saying in the shadows as I ascend up the staircase in the middle of the entryway. “But, as my father before me ran this kingdom with compassion, I vow to do the same.” More cheers erupt, some whistles carrying through the house as well.

I reach the top of the stairs, a long dark hallway greets me there, which at the end, holds my destination.

“At 12 the ceremony will begin, until then, please help yourself to more wine and enjoy the company of one another.” The crowds clap, cheering more at the mention of wine. I continue my path, walking straight to the end of the hall where a window sat. The moon was bright overhead, illuminating the small corner of the hallway I stood in. I walk up to the window, reaching my hands out to open the locks, pushing the window doors outward, letting the cool breeze reach inside the palace. I sigh at the feeling of the cold air against my skin, appreciating the fresh air after being in the suffocating presence of the royals just a floor below me.

I quickly take off my shoes, knowing they would hinder my performance because of their discomfort. I also grab my dress, ripping it at the slit to give me more mobility, the slit now reaching just below indecency. I leave my shoes behind the vase that sat on a table next to the door at the end of the hallway. I knew it wasn’t smart leaving evidence behind, but by the time they realize what has happened and find the shoes, I will be halfway across the world living out my days in hiding.

I kick my leg over the ledge of the window, reaching into my clutch to pull out my hand held grappling hook. It wasn’t the most ideal hook, but in this tight situation, it is going to have to do. I shoot the hook towards the window above, effectively grasping the ledge. I pull it a couple times to check it’s support before I completely push away from the window, my bare feet touching the cold stone that made up the outside of the palace. I gently slide down the side, approaching the window below feeling blinded by the chandeliers brights illumination. I peak through the window, seeing all the previous guests drinking and being merry. I look right below the window, seeing the crow’s nest I had seen from the floor, making me smile at my serendipitous. I wrap the rope around my hand tightly, supporting a majority of my weight on that arm, the rest of it on my leg that had a small grip on the tiny ledge that rested just outside the window. I pull the clip from my hair, twisting and bending it to use it as a pick to break into the lock. I hear the satisfying click, making me smile. I clip the wrecked pin back into my hair, keeping it just in case. I swing my body to the window, carefully balancing on the ledge as I open the window, jumping into the crow’s nest. I sigh out heavily, feeling relief I had made it. I look to the giant clock on the wall, reading the time to be 11:47, making me panic at how long it took me to get to my spot. I reach behind me, grasping the aluminum that was tucked into my dress as I unsheathe the sniper rifle I had, miraculously, hid in my tight dress. I breathe out as I hold the piece in my hands, feeling comfortable with my weapon in my hands after so many hours of discomfort. I take my masquerade mask off my face, the skin around my eyes feeling the cool air begin to dry the sweat that had accumulated over the hours I had worn it. I open my clutch, swapping my mask for the silencer that had waited all night to be revealed. I twist it onto the tip of the gun just before beginning to set up the aim.

I anxiously wait for the final minutes to tick away, for 12 to finally strike so I could take my shot. I watch the Prince emerge from the crowd, stepping up to the podium as the clock reads ’11:58’. The grip on my trigger tightens, my breathing controlled so I could line up the perfect shot.

’11:59’

My finger presses aging the trigger, only needing one small push to send the bullet through the barrel.

“You do stick out like a sore thumb.” A voice startles me just as the clock tolls, announcing 12:00.

I jerk my head towards the voice, seeing the man I had danced with towering over me. I growl in frustration, going back to my scope quickly, trying to get the bullet out of the chamber. The man kicks the gun away, forcing the scope to hit my eye, making me cry out in pain.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong target.” The man speaks again.

I stand quickly, getting defensive just in case.

The man reaches for his his gold mask, his fingers gripping the edges gently as he pulls it from his face, revealing his whole identity to me. My eyes widen as I look into his brown eyes that were barley seen through the light from the moon. I recognized his face immediately.

“You’re the Prince.” I whisper, watching as his lips turn into a smile.

“Please, call me Minghao.” He asks before gesturing to the man who was on stage at this very moment, giving a speech on how thrilled he was to become king. “He is not your target.”

“How?” I ask him, glaring at him, realizing my plan had been foiled before I entered the palace.

“It’s not on you at all.” Minghao tells me, watching my movements closely. “Your “employer” has some dishonest men amongst him.”

“Of course, leaving me to go to jail for it.” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as I stare at the prince. “You knew when I entered the room.”

Minghao chuckles, his voice bringing comfort in this high stress situation. “I had suspicions.” He takes a step closer to me, his body heat radiating onto mine from his proximity. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the sniper under your dress?”

I glare at him, anger seething through me as I watched amusement dance in his eyes. “You think you’ve won, but I will kill you next time.”

“There won’t be a need.” He comments. “Your employer will be jailed for his hit request, there’s no money in it for you anymore.”

“But there’s redemption.” I snarl at him, pushing him with both of my hands as I sweep my leg, effectively causing him to stumble back from me. I jump from the window, grabbing the rope and sliding down it quickly, my hands being burned by friction. I reach the bottom, pulling the hook off the ledge as it falls into my hand. I see Prince Minghao lean over the edge of the window, watching me as I made my exit. I only stare for a moment before running towards the city, traveling through the darkness to hide from any eyes. This was not the last time Minghao and I would meet and I promised to myself that our next meeting, would end with his death.

SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

#caratwritersclub #cwcfff #seventeen #seveteen minghao #seventeenthe8 #the 8 #minghao #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #x reader #kpop #kpop fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shots

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redevenir · 4 years

Text

to eat flowers and not to be afraid

woozi x reader

wc : ~ 7690

a/n : i first wrote this piece for @svtwritenight and i kept writing because it felt very nice. the title comes from this verse by e. e. cummings : « since the thing perhaps is to / eat flowers and not to be afraid » from voices to voices. I don’t think there is a specific warning here. There is only one sentence that I find disgusting, but nothing triggering. Vague references to past disasters and deaths.

« "Alas," he cried to himself in his dismay, "what ever will become of me, and how is it all to end? If I stay here upon the river bed through the long watches of the night, I am so exhausted that the bitter cold and damp may make an end of me—for towards sunrise there will be a keen wind blowing from off the river. If, on the other hand, I climb the hill side, find shelter in the woods, and sleep in some thicket, I may escape the cold and have a good night's rest, but some savage beast may take advantage of me and devour me." »

The Odyssey, Book V, Homer.

You put your hand on the doorknob. You’ve been sleeping here for a few weeks now. Compared to other places you’ve been before, this one is starting to feel comfortable. You can’t call it otherwise though. There are walls in your head, walls that you built when everything was falling apart. Vulnerability kills, you’ve learn it fast. You cannot afford to be sentimental, especially toward a mere concrete structure and yet, you’ve already overstep the boundaries you’ve set yourself. It’s not gratitude, it’s just… It’s nice. It’s nice that the two-story building is here. That it didn’t crumble like most of them, it’s nice that in what was barely a town before you’ve found it empty. That all four apartments were empty when you came in. That there’s a fireplace in each one of them. That the vegetation around has grown enough to hide most of the windows of the one you’ve chosen for yourself.

You remember the day you arrived there. Terrified of getting caught, you had rummaged through all of the apartments as fast as you could, storing all you thought might be of use. Then you had barricaded the three unoccupied ones, establishing yourself on the second floor. You hung bells behind the front door, bells behind the lobby door. Bells hung very low all over the staircase, so you’d know if someone was to come in. Nobody had so far. It was just you, day after day after day, and you were beginning to feel safe. Able to spend a few hours a day without worrying. A luxury. Just you, the bare trees around. Sometimes you’d see the occasional boars, down the road. How are they still alive? Don’t ask yourself, worries will come back. You know it now: you know nothing. You will never fully understand any of the crazy things that has happened so far, because most of them don’t make sense. Most of the time, you try – very, very hard – not to think at all. Just another way to stay safe.

You open the door to the shelter. You’re soaked, you’re tired, you can’t see a thing. It’s been a mistake, going out today, you realized. A useless loss of time and energy. You wanted to watch the road, see if there was anyone passing by. That was the first lie. No one was « passing by » anymore. You just wanted an excuse to go out. You’re being unreasonable. You know inside – you can’t even word « home » in your head, not now, not tomorrow, not a year from now – inside is safe. Home is too comfortable, too dangerous. Inside in the only safe. Home will get you killed. It will make you less and less careful. Exactly like today. You’ve been outside for hours, knowing from the start it’d be worthless. And if anyone had indeed walked that road, you couldn’t even know. The clouds were too thick and everything was too dark for you see a thing, and that was before the rain started to fall. But you stayed there. Almost confident in your warm safe place, almost looking forward to the fire you’d be lighting up to dry your clothes and warm yourself up. One might say – but there is no one anymore – you were already lucky it was just good old-fashion rain, not the burning, acid one. You tell yourself you’d recognize the deadly clouds. Maybe that’s the second lie.

Standing before the building’s door, you feel sick. It’s disgusting. All you have lost, all that is gone, for you to be this carefree. Nausea rises up your body. You shiver, close your eyes, breathe. Confidence is a concept of the past. Confidence will get you killed. Breathe in, breathe out. It is the only therapy left now. And now you’re scared. You put your hand in your pocket, touch the big rock you always keep in there. Heavy. Uncomfortable. You grab it, take it out. Breathe in, breathe out. You open the door, welcomed by the soft music of the bells. Quick, you check the entrances of the ground-floor apartments. Still barricaded, nothing has changed. Breathe in, breathe out. You climb up the stairs, as fast and as silent as you can, only to find the doors of your floor as closed as you left them. Breathe in, breathe out. You enter your flat. No harm done. Just as quiet as ever. Still, you don’t light up the room for a few days, except for the fireplace. Your shoulder hurts a bit, so you try to massage it absentmindedly. It’s winter, you assume, and you cannot afford to sleep without the warmth provided by the fire.

Summer is over, you realize, looking at the window, wondering how long you have left before all the leaves have fallen again. It’s the second time you’ll be watching them do so here. What’s exhausting, you think, is that you have no purpose whatsoever. You never left from your shelter. If you’re being honest, you haven’t even taken the time to consider it. You know you don’t want to leave. Leaving would be dangerous. You feel weak now. Your reflexes have dulled. What’s more, there is nowhere you’d rather be. And – this one, you can’t word, even in the heart of the night, even when you know no one has heard your voice for actual years now – you don’t want to see people. Either dead or alive. Enough losses, countless deaths. You don’t remember the last friendly face now, everyone has faded. Voices you remember, though. Heartless words, the various announcements of various Disasters. Now it feels as if all of it happened at once, but there is, buried in your brain, the memory of days longer than weeks when all people were doing was waiting, waiting for the news, waiting for an explanation, waiting for the way to defeat whatever force was at work against them. And then there were none.

Jihoon breathes. In, out. Finds a fix spot, focuses on it. There are blue flowers at the bottom of that small building. Keeps on breathing. Deep blue, five thin petals. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s borages, he thinks. They’re edible. Who’s eating them ? Panic begins to creep in again. Breathe in, breathe out. They’re in bloom, so it must be spring, right ? Deep breathe. He’s quite sure there is a way to make herbal tea of some sort with borages. He backs away into the woods. He’s not ready yet. He needs time to process the news. He walks deeper in the forest than ever before, tries not to overthink it, not yet, not while he’s moving, and exposed.

Later on, when he’s hidden behind branches and leaves, laying on the ground, he needs to breathe again. He feels his heart pounding in his chest, out of terror, out of anger, out of curiosity, also. Has he been seen ? And if so, who saw him ? Is he going to see the sun rise again ? And who is leaving here ? He assumes it’s a loner, for keeping a company is putting one’s self more at risk. He hasn’t. Breathe in, breathe out. Are they armed ? He barely sleeps that night. He does not lie to himself, knows he has to meet them. He simply wonders which approach will be best. Of course, he can’t just present himself, hands in his pocket. What would be the right way to make sure they’d see him as a peace-seaking stranger but intimidating enough that they wouldn’t try to murder him ? Jihoon feels a bit sick, that he has to think about it this way. It is sick. All of it is fucking sick. He doesn’t try to picture the stranger, for he knows his imagination would create a macabre mix of people he’s known and people’s he’s seen dead. He breathes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll go, and knock at the door. On his guard, but decent. Tomorrow, he’ll be brave, and go to the two-story building.

Tomorrow lasts for days, he finds out, as he keeps weighing the pros and cons of knocking on that copper-colored door. Every day, he walks for a bit through the woods, close enough so that he can see the small building, and stay there. It’s a nice door. He likes the color. Once again, he lingers. And then, he remembers that it doesn’t matter what the outcome might be. He has nowhere to be, no one to see. There is no purpose left for him in this existence. He has no plan. Shit, he’s been sleeping in the woods for months now – he cannot admit to himself there is a high chance he has been doing so for years. It is for this exact situation that the saying « nothing to loose » has been made up – of course people back then had no idea of what it actually meant. Breathe in. It’s a friendly door, he decides. Breathe out. He stands up, and begins to walk what’s left of the way to the building.

And then he hears a crack and feels a piercing pain through his right hand. Before he can shout he’s punched in the face as he tries to turn around to see his assailant. He’s wrestled to the ground, all he can see is a messy mass of hair as they bring a hand – cold, small – to his neck. He screws his eyes shut. And nothing. Nothing happens, only heavy breathes. His, uneven because of the atrocious pain in his right hand. And the ones of the stranger who attacked him. Breathe in. He opens his eyes. They meet a furious gaze and overly frowned eyebrows. He doesn’t read anything out of it, and, as he tries to take a better look at the angry face, he realizes he’s almost surprised to see a human. He knew it, of course. Only humans use ceiling lights, as far as he knows. Still, he’s surprised to see a human face. Silence lingers.

« What were you doing ? » Your voice is croaky. He’s surprised once more. Curiosity oversteps and he wonders – when were your last words ? Clearly, he takes too long to answer, for you press over his wounded hand and he screams in both pain and surprised.

« I-i-i was going over to tha-aah-t building. To meet… who-whoever is living there. »

« Why »

Jihoon thinks, quick, quick. Breathe in.

« I figured – ahh – why not ? » Breathe out.

You remain silent.

You tell yourself you don’t feel bad, not a bit. Still, his hand looks ugly. Overall, he’s looking pretty bad. He smells of dirt, of mud. He hasn’t showered for a very long time, you guess. The air smells bad too. You look up at the sky, keeping your hand on his jaw, without pressure – you don’t want him dead, and his good hand is out of use. It takes you a bit of time but sure enough, you find the clouds. Far, but visible. You look back at the guy you knocked out. He knows. He’s been looking in the same direction as you have. You assume he can smell the air, too. Breathe in. You pity him. You sigh. You can fix this.

« Do you have anything of value nearby ? »

Jihoon screws his eyes shut, like you just slapped him. Shit. You take it as no. Take it as a they-re-way-too-far kind of no. You lift your hand off his jaw, stand up, and give it to him instead.

« Let’s go inside then. »

You’ve lit up a fire. You figured he deserved it. Hadn’t he just lost all his possessions, however meager they might be ? You try not to look at his face too bluntly, and you wonder if he’s holding up his tears. Instead, you let him walk, slow, oh so slow, around the room while you rummage among the branches of dry wood. Surely, you can find enough of them to make him a splint of sort. You’ve done it for yourself before – it did not heal as well as it should have, but it healed anyway. Without looking at him, you realize you know exactly where he is in the room. It’s been so quiet for so long, that even his soft steps are like thunder to your ears. You vaguely notice that he doesn’t go near the windows. Good, you think. Lesser chances of being seen – and you try hard not to wonder for how long he’s known about you being here.

Jihoon thinks he has rarely been this stupid, and he hates it. Turns out, he actually had things to loose : food, his clothes. At least he’s alive – but what for ? He looks at your back, annoyed, curious, still scared. You broke his hand, took him to your place and now you want to... fix... said hand - he tries not to think about the fact that taking him inside means saving him from a terrible pain - possibly lethal. He watches over the room, looking for any clue about the resident. He knows, of course, he won’t find any personal item – who has managed to keep one ? But, maybe, from the way you’ve organize the furniture – he notices the small heaps of stones under the windows. One of the walls is yellow, a bright yellow. All the others have this dull, white color to them but on this one, he sees traces of hands on the paint – the stores had been closed for a long time when you painted it, he guesses. Is it even paint that you used ? Breathe in. He remembers the bells that gently knocked over his head on your way up the stairs. Breathe out. Surely, it’s a friendly wall.

« Sit down on the chair. »

Again, it comes off wrong. A weak, faint, trail of voice. Jihoon wonders, had the situation been reversed, would you have been able to scream or shout ? He quickly decides you wouldn’t, and feels a bit sick when he puts it in the « good news » part of his brain. He does as said, sits quietly, showing his left side to the fire, while you sit down on the brown fabric sofa before him. It is massive, very long, and looks quite off. Who needs such a big couch? He gives you his hand. You take his wrist with caution – he tries not to remember when was the last non-aggressive touch he’s been given – look at his hand from every possible angle, change it when you notice him wincing. You remain silent for a little while, and organize the cheap, self-made sort of first-aid kit you’ve managed to assemble over time.

« Let me take care of that. »

You notice the brief look of surprise on his face. Of course, of course. He remains silent, however, and you start to fix up the mess you’ve made with your stone. As long as it takes, the two of you keep your words for yourselves. You don’t tell him you don’t really know what you’re doing. None of you mention the loud pounding of the toxic rain outside. You thank the men of old for inventing the concrete. Jihoon tries not to think of his stuff, doomed to rot. Fire warms up both of your faces as you work.

It’s very early – you know it, because the birds have just started to sing. You’ve put a new log moments ago. The intruder is dozing on the couch. You assume he’s had a long day, between your encounter, the broken hand – you didn’t tell him how bad it was, if he’s made it so far, he already understood. But you can’t fall asleep. You can’t think about falling asleep. You’re frightened. Of course, he can’t do you any harm. Still, it’s so sudden. When did you turn into this human-shaped scaredy cat ? You shut your eyes, open them up. Look away from the fire, to the sleeping form. Now you can take a good look at him.

A bit shorter than you are, around your age – maybe older, maybe younger? Hunger has a terrible way of making people look younger, you’ve found out. Yet despair makes them look older, so who knows. His hair looks as wrong as the rest. Dark, messy. You assume he’s tried to keep them on the short side by his own means. He’s underfed – but so are you. He looks fiery – dangerous, you think, if he’s survived so long, and come so far. Then it hits you. You’ve made it so far. You’re the one who found this removed place, barricaded it, you’re the one with a stock of heavy stones near all of you windows. You’re to be feared as much as he is. All of this has turned you into a cold-blooded huntress – or are you still a prey on the lookout ? Who will tell the difference now. Everyone who had once known the vulnerable you has disappeared. You feel the nausea creeping in. Breathe in. Tomorrow you will offer him to take a shower

None of you talk much. Jihoon notices how you keep avoiding to look at him straight in the eyes. He’s not much help, so he lights up the fire, cleans up a bit. Days are shorter now. If he comes near the windows he can feel the poor isolation. Still, he hates to do nothing, tries to keep himself busy. With the bunch of pens you’ve gathered as a reflex more than anything, he learns to write with his left hand. It is hard, and messy, and he’s glad no one will see it. The first conversations you have are about plants. It’s a safe topic, harmless, useful, and it appears you know as much as he does. Although, you can name them, whereas he had to learn to recognize them the hard way. You both list what’s growing around, exchange a few cooking ideas. You say nothing about his diet, but the first time you cooked meat in front of him you let him have it all. And the second time. The third time he asks you to stop, you retort he needs it. Jihoon really can’t do anything about it, but the first time you cut it in half, he smiles.

One night, as you’re both sitting in front of the fire, it escapes from your lips, like a confession held up for too long, you turn your head to your left to face him.

« I grew up on the coast, too. » He’s surprised, as usual, tries to look at your face from the side, and you see the outline of a smile, the light squinting of his eyes. « Is that so ? » You hum in confirmation, turning away to face the fireplace again. Jihoon takes his time, tries to list all the things he knows about you. From your accent – thick, slow-paced – he gets you’re from a different district than him. Obviously though, you’ve met people from his. How else would you know what he hasn’t told you? You’re good at hunting, at least good enough that twice a week you catch something for the both of you to feed upon it – mostly birds or rabbits. You’re generous, he knows that. His mere presence here proves it. You like the color yellow and don’t know the very basics of medicine. You’re taciturn – or cautious? There is no way of telling which was there from the beginning and which has come from a traumatic series of disasters. Not a fast runner. You understand his need for space – you never say anything when he closes the dark, old, heavy curtains during rainfalls. You still haven’t asked anything about him before. And this, as much as he’s thankful for it, makes him uncomfortable. Do you not ask because you don’t want him to ask you back? Obviously you have things to hide. You’re so well off here. No one can reach this level of comfort – isolation, warmth, food, even the amount of bells you’ve gathered is suspicious – without having some ugly deeds on their hands. He has too. Or maybe – he shivers – you don’t ask him because you suspect where he’s coming from? Or worse, maybe you just plain know it, and don’t wish to address it. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe you were just craving companionship as much as he was, maybe you don’t care, maybe you don’t want to care, and maybe he shouldn’t.

He must take it slow, not overwhelm you. He’s still worried you might send him off once his hands is all good – although he knows it will never be the same. Good at fighting, he adds to his list – or are you just good at ambush ? He finally settles for the next thing he wants to know.

« Have you read any of the books in here ? »

Safe, keep it safe. Be normal.

« Some, not many. Also, they don’t teach you that in school, where I come from. » Jihoon wants to slap himself. He knows that. Of course he does. The illiterate districts, how did he forget? Even after it’s all gone, inequalities remain. However alien it might look now, you are still walking on the ashes of the same damn country. He tries to contain his discomfort and remain casual. What will you do, when you find out – it’s not an if, he knows you will, he has no desire of leaving you now. Is he doomed?

« Anything good ? »

« The dictionary sure is handy. »

That’s the first time you hear him laugh. It’s light and bright, as he shakes his head a bit, and it makes you smile as well.

That’s the first time he sees you smile. It’s genuine and hidden, and he might have missed it if he had closed his eyes a bit longer. It’s a friendly smile, he decides.

He asks about the geography, and, as expected, he knows more than you do about this district. He tries not to feel the pain in his chest when he understands you’ve just walked blindly until you couldn’t anymore, as far as you could from the terrifying remnants of civilization, that you didn’t have a plan. He tries really hard, but still pats your head kindly, throat tight. All you’re really sure about is that you had never been this far north before, and that you didn’t know what true winter was. He should be used to it, by now. No one was prepared and yet every time it is a slap in his face to find out others have been through hell as much as he has. Jihoon is simple. He wishes no harm to anyone. He doesn’t ask for the specifics – not yet. He does not need to know much you’ve been screwed up – he doesn’t want to admit how mad it will make him. But he starts to teach you. He draws map on the floor, using dry leaves as borders. He rummages through the books, finds some he likes. He even asks you if he can go into the other flats, you know, in case there might be something he’d like. You say yes to everything, he finds out. You cut him out every time he tries to justify himself. The first time you tell him he lives here as much as you do is the first time he wants to smooch you.

It’s the middle of the night, and you’re trying to wake him up, hand on his mouth, tugging at his sleeve, when you realize you don’t know his name. He’s been there for weeks – the slow healing of his hands tells you that much – and not once have you asked for his name – you feel too guilty to realize he hasn’t, either. You’re already too scared to worry about it, and you shake his arm vigorously as your ushered whining intensifies.

« Wake up, wake up, wake up, oh please wake up, someone is near, someone is there I’m begging you please just wake up already. » Jihoon opens up his eyes in panic at the sound of your supplication. He whispers hurriedly to you, and it hits you once again that he is survivor too. At that moment, you see he’s ready for anything, he’s always ready for anything.

« Who ? Where ? How many ? »

« Just outside, I saw moving shadows at the edge of the forest. I think two, maybe three. » You’re a good huntress, he trusts your sight. But before your eyes you see the quick change in his attitude. From the serene companion to a determined fighter. He looks at you straight in the eyes, all sleep forgotten. « Do you think they’ve noticed us ? »

« I think the curtains do a great job at hiding us, we don’t have any light on... »

You both end up hiding in your bedroom, barricaded, doing nothing. What could you do anyway ? You’re no murderer – apparently he isn’t either. No bell’s melody is heard. The shadows don’t come in, you don’t come out. It’s the first time Jihoon actually comes inside your room. Sat on the floor, he says nothing about the bed, that clearly hasn’t been touched for a long time, judging by the layer of dust. He says nothing about his hand you’re holding. He notices your bag, the few clothes you’ve hanged. He’s grateful they also fit him, even if it’s probably unflattering. Otherwise he would have been stuck with what he had on his back when he met you – not much, almost torn to pieces. There are small lines drawn on the wall near the headboard, he wonders what you were trying to count, and how long you’ve done it before giving up. He jumps a bit when you tell him it’s birds – forgot you were watching him.

« They’re… Well. It’s uncanny. » You don’t look at him, you’re staring at the ceiling. He watches all of the signs on your face that tell him your fear, trying to learn your language, so that the slightest thrill won’t go unnoticed. You deserve it, don’t you? To be acknowledged. His hand tightens a bit around yours.

« Uncanny... ? »

« You know. What do they do when it rains ? » Jihoon misses a breathe. Oh my god. How, after all this time, can there be a new terrifying side to the Horrors ? He’s lived in the woods for so long, and not once has he though about it. He’s been worried for himself, of course. He stopped counting the sleepless nights he has spent anxiously hoping his little shelters, made of whatever he was able to find at the moment, would hold on. He’s been careful not to eat carcasses, out of fear they might be poisoned but this, this is new. This is a precise, specific aspect of terror. He feels dizzy and his train of thought is out of reach when you move to face him, close, hand on his face. Soft, gentle, even if he winces a bit.

« Hey, hey, don’t fret, you whisper. Corvids are super smart, and they’re the only ones I see here. Don’t overthink it. I stopped. »

He slowly catches his breathe, and says nothing as you keep holding his wrist in your hand.

You barely sleep for days after that, and Jihoon wonders if you’ve felt that way with him first. You ask him to keep you up and for the first time since the day he lost all of his remaining clothes and food – the very day he met you – he wants to cry. But he stays with you. You barely go to your room anymore, therefore when you pass out on the couch, exhausted, he stays with you, makes sure he doesn’t fall asleep, for he doesn’t want to loose your trust. He sees it now. You’re no danger. You’re terrified, and you’ve been alone for a long, long time. So he complies

« Can we build a greenhouse ? Or, at least, organize a garden? »

« I guess we could… But it’d be very obvious there’s people in the house. »

Jihoon shrugs. « Whatever. »

You look at him, startled. « Are you not worried ? »

« What else is there to do anyway ? I think it would be nice to have a project. And to achieve it. » You don’t tell him you need seeds for a greenhouse to be useful. You don’t want to argue, you want to trust him. If you’re being honest, you’ve been observing him since he first arrived. For a long time, it was anxious surveillance and side-eyeing. Like animals meeting at sunset, wondering how lethal the other may be. Now… Now, you wonder how bad it has been for him, so bad that he never brings it up. You assume he’s killed people, you fear he was among those who worked for a faster destruction of humanity’s ruins. Did he take part in raids over these little communities? Burn them to the ground, for the mere reason they were trying to keep a kind of society going? Was he – it’s hard to admit it’s a possibility – working for the government? You shake it off. You want purpose, and safety, and kindness, and Jihoon has been all of it and more – you cannot tell him yet how much you enjoy when he caresses your hand, you’re pretty sure he only does it when he thinks you’re asleep.

« Alright then. » You never tell him you’re not even sure there were trespassers that night.

Time passes, and he forgets there is a world outside of the one you both share. He forgets his life before you as he learns more about yours before him. Slowly, carefully, you tell him where you were, and what you were doing every time you heard the news of a Disaster. He holds you tight when you remember the nuclear one, more vividly than any other, for one of the bombings happened in your are. You heard it with your own hears, saw it with your own eyes, smelled it with your own nose. He apologizes and promises never to ask again. You brush it off, telling him he’s not the one who blew it up. You keep for yourself the nausea you never quite got rid off, the loss of balance when you run, the broken ankle you had to fix yourself. How sometimes you have to sit down under the shower, and bite your fist because your brain is confused between the toxic rain and the hot running water.

You contemplate the large pot of cooling water. It is routine now. Filling it up in the shower, boiling it, waiting. You don’t know if the running water’s infected, but what are the odds? It is already a miracle it’s still running, and quite clear at that. You remember the last time you saw a river after a downpour. Red from the blood of melting fishes. Sickening scent. Maybe that’s the reason why you’ve waited for so long to settle down – you’ve let your guard down, you don’t even realize it’s a home now, it’s good, you don’t know it yet, but it is good. It was the last sight of your agonizing town, when you ran, still in your work uniform, without a goal, without a plan. Away.

« How did you paint the wall yellow ? » He asks, as he plucks the petals of a heather sprig, a very satisfied smile on his lips.

It catches you off guard, as always. The first change you notice is his voice. It’s dulcet now – you remember the word, because it is in one of the few books you’ve read here. You like it. It is small and soft, and has a pleasing meaning. You look at your companion. It fits him well – you forget you first meant his voice.

« With great difficulties. Once I was done I realized I had no turmeric left, and I felt like an idiot. »

« It’s nice. I like yellow. »

You hum. « With a lot of madder we could probably get enough orange for another one. I’ll show you. »

It’s summer now. Days never get any warmer, and you both agreed to spend some time outside, enjoying the sun on your skin. You’re walking in the woods, Jihoon following you, as you’re both looking for dyer’s madder. Every few minutes he points out some plants he’s recognized, waits for you to tell him its name, and gives his verdict.

« Here. »

« Bear leek. »

« Grandiose. I respect them. These ones, on the other hand... »

« Fool’s… par… sley… ? » You, muse, unsure.

« Never. Eat. That. »

You raise a hand to catch a pear – pears are safe, pears are delicious – and Jihoon tries not to stare at your arm’s skin, bruised, torn by the fog – how long as it been ? Will it heal someday ? You know there are plants good for healing skin, but none of you knows which ones, and you’re both too afraid of making a severe mistake. Anyway, Jihoon has seen your body, as much as you’ve seen his, knows there are more like these, ancient. You’ve been caught under the rain more than once, and you’ve been hurt. Hurt by human hands. That he knows as well, you’ve been among those poor bastards used for testing, when the rain began to fall. He’s seen the little scars inside your arms, from the shots of whatever they put into your veins. It’s fucking disgusting. Jihoon wants to set someone on fire – he remembers, of course, there’s only you with him.

You watch as Jihoon opens and closes his hand absentmindedly.

« You know it will never heal properly, right ? » You ask, mouth full of big chunks of pear.

« I do, thank you. » You shut your eyes, and Jihoon feels guilty about the venom in his voice. Of course, he’s resentful, and, well you’re the one who smashed his fingers, but still, he hates the miserable look on your face. He watches as you breathe in. The pear juice drips down your chin. You swallow the last chunk.

« There’s nothing more I can do to fix it. But I-I can make up for your loss, you know, you breathe out. I can keep hunting, I can cook... » He softens, as you can’t finish your sentence. He let frustration take the best of him. He knows, he’s been replaying the scene over and over at night. He would have done the same, and it is worth it. Companionship. Having someone else around. It is so much worth it. His voice is but a whisper when he tells you « Okay, it’s okay, it’s neat, I understand, I’ll stay. » and he means it.

This is your first quarrel, but it is nothing, nothing compared to the next one, Jihoon ruminates. The second one is big, full of shame, of disgust, of anger and torment. It’s a hurricane of every frustration you’ve ever had in your life, hurled to his face. It was too good to last, he tells himself, but when you spit at his feet it still feels like a slap. He’d rather have you shouting at him. You’re just disgusted. He gets it, anyway, how unfair it must be for you. How iniquitous it is for you.

You come from a poor district, that much you knew. What you don’t know, and what he does, is that it was not only one of the poorest, but it was supposed to remain this way. Nothing was ever done to improve people’s life down there because the elites never wanted the scum to rise above their condition. Of course, he doesn’t say it like that, but when the « illiterate states » expression escapes him, he knows you won’t let it fly. So he tells you everything, and how things actually happened during the Fall. How it was no accident that the first bomb was dropped on the cities with the most workers. How they knew, up there, that no one will complain. How he heard, half-whispers in the streets, about the tests done far over there. Hopes of creating a vaccine against radioactivity – but were they, really? So little was heard, it was like a urban legend. That was when you spit at him. Of course there were testing. They had gone door-to-door, the doctors in their white coats, going through each household, claiming to offer a cure, without ever saying who were the actual guinea pigs. And anyway, they certainly weren't going to be able to work any more, so why not, what's the point of being skeptical now? You only stop when you realize it is over anyway. You cannot seek revenge nor destroy the government – it’s already a thing of the past. When tears run down your cheek in rage, he takes your hand and apologizes. Even though he wasn’t there, even though it wasn’t him. Jihoon feels someone has to make amends for you. So he does.

You say nothing of it after. What could he do about it. Jihoon is kind. Jihoon never hurt you. You let it go, like all the rest.

It is very early again, when you come back from your hunt, distraught, and hurt. It is the bells Jihoon hears first, immediately sitting straight, shaking the sleep off, adrenaline rushing. He runs to the door, checking it’s well locked, expecting the worse, a heavy stone in his left hand. It’s only when you try to open it, and pathetically whimpers it’s you that he opens, closing right after you rush in. You shakily make your way to the water, splashing it on your face as fast as you can.

Bad doesn’t even begin to describe how bad you look, holes in your clothes, shaking, is that blood on your shirt ? Nothing else looks like blood, Jihoon has learn, it is unmistakable. When he comes closer to you, you’re already trying to get a hold of yourself. He notices your fists moving slowly in the air, as you try to recover an even breathe.

« What… ? »

You face him and the end of his question is useless. It’s not that bad, but your face is marked, tiny bits of skin are missing, leaving your skin red and sticky. You reek of disease.

« Did it rain ? I didn’t hea... »

« The fog. » Your voice is breaking. « It’s e-even in the f-fog now. » You curl up on yourself, and Jihoon takes matters into his own hands. Puts them on your shoulders, guides you to the small bathroom in the corner of the bedroom. Helps you out of your clothes. He doesn’t want to invade your personal space, so he focuses on the sounds of water running. Gently pushes you inside, as your whimpering turns to wailing that you try hard, very hard, to silence. It’s crushing, really, that after all this time you still feel the need to hide your vulnerability from him. He takes your hand, comes closer to you, lets the shower soak him, and whispers to you it’s okay, really, you can let it go, it must be so painful, don’t worry and I’m here and don’t, oh please don’t worry. You hold him strong as you cry out loud for the pain, curling up again. It will never end. You’ve acted without caution and you’re a fool. As he washes you up you promise to yourself never to be this dumb again – you cannot let him down.

That night you sleep on the bed, and Jihoon realizes you’ve almost never done so since he’s here. He crawls in after you, laying close but careful not to touch you. He knows your skin will be sensitive for days. You fall asleep right away, exhausted, empty of all tears, without a word, and he tries to remember how it feels to be under the rain – it’s been a long time. He’s been relying on you for too long, it is about time he returns the favor. Tomorrow, he’ll be better.

He doesn’t let you leave the bed for days, doesn’t let you alone for more than a few minutes, he moves the sofa and the table to the bedroom. The only thing he cannot carry with him is the fireplace. So he wakes up, lights a fire, assembles a breakfast for both you to eat together, spends his day reading, talking with you when you can, whispering to you when you’re too tired to answer, napping, washing up, putting logs into the fire. The memory of a past convalescence floats between the sheets, a fossil from another world. How can you even remember it? It is there, though. The first one. You had just left the hangar for a few minute, to enjoy some fresh air after inhaling sawdust for hours. It was not a bad job, you’d tell yourself. Useful, crafty. The incessant creaking of electric sanders made it possible to have private discussions, which was already a luxury when you had started to work. When it rained for the first time on your small port town, a summer shower – you come from the sunniest of the districts, after all.

You’re chewing on leaves of mint, as you watch Jihoon tidying the room. You let your mind wander as he hangs your shared clothes in front of the fire to dry. Jihoon can stay still, you tell yourself. He can be quiet, and collected, but he needs something to do, something to think about, and unless he finds it he get antsy. You cut him some slack, remembering you’re quite similar in this aspect. That you were once calm and level-headed, until it was no longer manageable. However, there is a chance he has always been restless – maybe that’s why he endured better than you did before you met. Jihoon has the heart of a lion, and surely anything he’s done was for his survival or others’. You don’t doubt him. He nice, he is caring. He has this boyish, grumpy face, and he’s both knowledgeable and...

« What are you thinking about ? »

You jump, eyes wide.

« What ? What is ? »

« No-nothing ! You’re very reliable, that’s all. » He chuckles at that.

« Well, it’s nice to be acknowledged. »

You don’t answer, face burning hot. You miss Jihoon’s fond smile and the red on his own cheeks.

When you finally go outside again, buds herald the return of spring. You keep sleeping side by side, like it was never a question. It takes even longer for you to go out again, yet you’re terrified of Jihoon getting hurt alone outside. But he is careful, quick. When he comes backs, he seems even more worried about you than you are about him. Slowly, you sleep closer and closer in bed, like it would change something to your fate. Like it might make things right, after all. If you keep close enough, who knows, maybe you’ll be protected. Maybe no one will ever notice any of you. You never let go of Jihoon’s hand. And you say nothing when he starts to put his hand on you side to sleep, his breathe not far from your neck. It comes slow, and gentle, and tender. He is patient, and impatient, and what you don’t know is that it is as impressive, as intimidating for him as it is for you. What is he supposed to do when he’s holding you in his arms, when every time he’s been this close to someone was during fights – including with you?

So when you tell him you’re scared, but not of him, he understands. And so do you when he tells you sometimes when he wakes up he forgets you’re the one on his side. But surely it is okay there are burning butterflies in your belly when you feel his breathe on your ear when he tells you this and that. This time you notice the pink flush on his cheeks – he does not answer.

« You were right, it is very nice. »

« Told you. » He doesn’t even look at you and keeps drawing. He’s gotten a lot better, you’ll admit. Now, his handwriting is even better than yours – which probably has gotten worse, since you never write anything. You contemplate the small plant you managed to put in a pot, amazed that such a simple, delicate setting makes you feel so good. All you had to do was to pick a bit of fern and put it in a useless pot full of earth. With Jihoon’s drawings hanging on the walls – some of them drawn on the walls – you are now at home. You sigh in contentment, sinking deeper into the couch. This spring is cloudy, but the fire burning in this house is infinite.

«I feel blessed you’re here.»

Jihoon looks up, sees you spread out over the sofa. He already feels the blush on his face, but he is tired. He stands up, walks up to you. He kneels down by your side and takes your hand. He swallows his saliva as you sit up, looking worried. He pulls a little on your arm, so you’re face to face, and gentle, brave, insane, he kisses you.

Eyes closed, you reach for his hand.

Tomorrow means nothing now. There is no hope of anything getting better at this point, yet here you are, holding hands with him, waking up with him, making plans with him. Why not?

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #to eat flowers and not to be afraid #ljh #apocalypse au #my writings

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randomk-imagines · 5 years

Text

Blue and Purple

words: 6.5k

genre: soulmates, friends to lovers, slight angst (but not really), a little Markhyuck

summary: different soulmates get different connections and yours just so happens to be getting the same cuts and bruises as the other.

a/n: Uh idk how I feel about this and also how did it come to be 6.5k??? Also, some swearing, but what’s new (:

gif creds

You were told that on your 19th birthday, you’ll be connected to your soulmate. The connections varied with each pair. Your parents’ connection was a small tattoo on their wrists they had woken up to one day. Your sister’s was the ability to telepathically communicate to hers. You’ve read that some people are able to draw on their skin and it will show up on their soulmate’s skin as well. Some can even see a red string appear when they wake up.

You were excited about what kind of ability you’ll end up with. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to them. Maybe you’ll find a thin, red string tied around your pinky finger that leads to them. Maybe you’ll have a timer and when it ends, you’re supposed to be able to meet your soulmate then.

When you wake up on your 19th birthday, you don’t expect your limbs to ache and have your body littered in bruises.

You try to recall when you would’ve ever fallen down or even had gotten hit by a ball or something. You were a little clumsy, but yesterday was Sunday and you had nowhere to be. How could you have possibly gotten all these bruises?

Your mom comes in with a plate of food and a bright smile on her face when you’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror to inspect your blue and purple patches.

“Aww honey, you’ve got your soulmate connection,” she coos.

“This is how I’m supposed to find my soulmate? The person covered in bruises?” you scoff. Unbelievable.

You currently have your head laying down in your arms, sulking, waiting for class to start when your best friend, Jaemin plops down in the seat next to yours.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he beams. You bring your head up and pout at him. “What crawled up your ass?”

“I think my soulmate got hit by a truck,” you grumble. Jaemin gives you a wtf look.

“What makes you say that?” he huffs out a laugh.

“It’s the only conclusion I can come up with. How else did I end up with bruises all over my legs and arms and even some on my side? They hurt and I’m mad at my soulmate.” You plop your head back down on your arms.

Jaemin snorts. He’s about to make a comment when he sees a glimpse of a bruise on the top of your shoulder where your shirt slips down a bit. He squints at it curiously then glances down at his own bruised shoulder.

It’s the exact same bruise.

His insides start churning as he gulps down on air.

You can’t be his soulmate. You were always so excited to find your soulmate, yet all he’ll end up causing you is pain? He can’t do it. He can’t cause his best friend of six years, the girl he’s liked for four years, his apparent soulmate pain just because he stubbed his toe or knocked his hip into a wall.

He’s weighed the pros and cons of dating his best friend and every time the cons came out on top. What if the relationship didn’t work and you ended up hating each other? Stopped being friends? He couldn’t deal with that. But apparently, the universe said a big “Fuck you,” and decided to make you his soulmate.

“Maybe they’re just clumsy,” Jaemin shrugs. “I feel bad for whoever is your soulmate. You fall constantly. They probably have bruises from you tripping over your own two feet every day.”

Your frown deepens and you punch Jaemin in the arm a little harder than usual. He flinches from the sudden punch and hisses in pain at the same time you jump as well, a sharp pain striking your upper arm as well.

He glances over at you and sees you flinch as well, only confirming even more that you two are connected. You, however, scrunch your eyebrows together, not understanding what happened. You look around your surroundings to see what you knocked into, but don’t see anything. Your desk is clean.

You shrug it off. It probably fell asleep from you laying on it.

“What happened to you, Jaemin?” Mark asks, pointing to the giant bruise on Jaemin’s side. His shirt was hiked up from reaching for a book in the library, revealing a small portion of his side.

You look up from your laptop just as Jaemin’s shirt falls back in place.

Jaemin glances down at his side then back up at Mark sheepishly.

“I fell down my stairs yesterday,” Jaemin chuckles awkwardly.

You and Mark shake your heads together, disappointed, but knowing him, not surprised. He was probably texting or just being an idiot while he was walking and ended up falling down.

“I feel bad your soulmate is gonna have to put up with that,” Mark tsks. Jaemin knows Mark is referring to him being a walking hazard but he can’t help the spike of nervousness and fear at his words.

Jaemin shoots a nervous glance at Mark then glances over at you. You don’t seem to take in Mark’s comment as you go back to working on the paper and Jaemin lets out a sigh of relief.

Jaemin sits down across from you and starts reading the book he’d just picked up. He starts absentmindedly swinging his legs out of habit when he hits the table leg. A loud thunk sounds and he flinches, but you end up flinching even more.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks you.

“I think my soulmate is trying to kill me,” you hiss at the sharp pain in your shin. Jaemin bites his lip, feeling once again, horrible at being so careless.

You and Mark don’t notice his internal turmoil and get back to work after cussing out your mystery soulmate.

“What’s your soulmate link?” You ask Mark.

The three of you are laying down on the roof of Mark’s house just star gazing. His house is practically in the woods so it’s a nice spot away from the light pollution.

“I’m able to get glimpses of their day. It’s strange. I don’t recognize the places.” He shrugs. “I’ll find them eventually.”

“What if they’re watching the same movie as you and you see that same movie then bam! You found them.” Jaemin says, his hands making wild gestures in front of him.

“What do you think your connection will be?” You curiously glance at Jaemin.

He stops moving his arms mid-air and looks at you. He nervously gulps.

Should he tell you that he already knows who his soulmate is, even though he’s a few months away from being 19? Should he tell you that his soulmate connection will be feeling the physical pain you feel? Should he just spill everything and tell you that he’s liked you for years even though you’ve, very honestly, spoken about how dating friends is not an option because you don’t want to stir up any drama through fights or break-ups?

“Uh maybe I’ll have a timer,” he shrugs. He mentally kicks himself for being so afraid. You’re his soulmate. You obviously have a connection to each other, but that doesn’t mean you have to be together...

“Woah, that’d be so fun. You’d know exactly when you meet your soulmate!” You beam at him. He just gives you a small smile back.

“Yeah. Fun,” Jaemin sighs.

The three of you graduate high school and finish your first year of university and you still haven’t figured out your soulmate.

It’s frustrating, really.

Mark found his soulmate when the three of you were at the university’s cafe and he was able to see himself sitting at a distance. He quickly looked around the entire cafe, confused and intrigued at the same time because he was finally near his soulmate and it seemed that his soulmate was glancing over at him already.

They instantly clicked and Mark’s soulmate, Donghyuck, was warmly welcomed in your trio. You and Donghyuck quickly became close and in fact, you were currently laying down in his dorm room right now, sulking.

Jaemin and Mark were still class and you had finished your homework, so you decided to chill with Donghyuck. Chill, as in, complain.

He became the one you went to with your problems since he always gave out good advice and comforted you. He could really be a handful sometimes, but he was a great friend when he needed to be, like now.

“I just don’t understand. How am I supposed to find my soulmate with these cuts and bruises?” you huff out. The two of you were on his bed, your head resting in his lap while he was playing on his phone. “I’m just so tired of not being able to find them,” you pout.

“Have you looked around to see if anyone has the same marks as you?” he asks.

He had quickly figured out that Jaemin was your soulmate within a few days. The bruises really gave it away. He doesn’t understand how you don’t see them. He’s also quickly figured out that Jaemin likes you. He’s not very subtle about it. He glances over at you when you’re not looking and he’s always following you around like a lost puppy. You’re just really dense, he’s concluded.

Mark, Jaemin, and Hyuck were together while you were still in class when he asked Jaemin about it, purely out of curiosity. Jaemin told him everything and said he didn’t want you to find out and end up being disappointed in realizing it was him. For the next three hours, he and Mark tried convincing Jaemin that you wouldn’t be disappointed, but it fell deaf to his ears.

“Of course I have but do you know how hard it is to find someone with the exact same bruises as you without looking creepy?” you groan. “Soulmate connections are dumb. Why do we need it anyway? Are we just not capable of finding someone on our own?” You scoff.

“Well, they’re there for a reason. Whether you chose to seek them out or not is up to you,” Hyuck shrugs. “But I really think if you just stop and look around, you’ll be able to find them.”

You glare up at Donghyuck. It’s not the first time he’s said that to you and you’re about to smack him and tell him to just say what he means. You’ve looked all over the place. It’s literally all you did for an entire month when you entered university, yet no one seemed to have the same bruises as you and when it looked like they had similar ones, they ended up already having found their soulmate.

It was always frustrating and disheartening when you asked them about it or whenever you saw other people with their soulmates. Heck, even your best friends had found theirs!

You just wanted to find your soulmate, yet they didn’t seem to want to find you.

“You’re late. Got caught up in the library again?” Mark shakes his head when he lets you into his dorm room.

It was Friday meaning it was your friend’s movie night. You all had decided on making a movie night when the four of you all agreed that parties weren’t your things and you wanted to procrastinate your homework for just a little while longer.

“Kind of,” you say as you toe off your shoes. You follow Mark into his room and plop down on his bed next to Jaemin while Mark settles down on the ground next to Donghyuck. “I met someone,” you say as you lean against Jaemin’s side, preparing yourself to fall asleep to the movie Mark picked out.

The three of them all turn towards you with shocked faces and a collective, “Huh?”

“Your soulmate?” Mark cautiously asks. He knew you and Jaemin were soulmates, yet he couldn’t help but ask. Maybe you thought you’d found your soulmate. Would it then be up to the three of them to convince you that your soulmate was sitting right next to you?

Jaemin and Donghyuck glance at each other, confused and nervous.

“As if,” you scoff. “I gave up on the whole soulmate thing,”

“What!?” They all shout at you. It makes you jump, not expecting that reaction from all of them.

“I’m tired of waiting for them and if they’re not going to make an effort to find me, then I’m not going to keep waiting for them.” You frown.

Jaemin’s heart sinks.

He wills his tears to not fall out of his eyes because really, it was all his fault.

Not seeking you out or giving you a sign that he was trying to seek you out, that he was right there. He didn’t even give you hope your soulmate, was in fact, always near you and now you had given up. He was too afraid and it ended up hurting you.

“That’s most definitely not what I told you to do,” Donghyuck shakes his head. He shoots Jaemin a look, telling him to tell you already, but Jaemin shook his head. He can’t.

He’s a coward and he doesn’t deserve to be your soulmate. All he does is inflict pain on you.

“Who is it?” Mark asks.

“Lee Jeno from my calc class. He needed help and I tutored him and he just asked me out,” you shrug. “He doesn’t care about the whole soulmate thing either and well I thought, why not,”

“What if you find your soulmate one day?” Jaemin asks from beside you.

“Well maybe if they tried finding me this wouldn’t have happened,” you snap.

You’re tired of waiting and Jeno was there. You decided to give him a chance and you’ve had a lot of fun with him. He’s really nice and funny. He’s been a huge gentleman to you and you were able to hang out with his friend group. They were a rowdy bunch, but you weren’t complaining. They were loud and boisterous, but welcomed you in and didn’t care that you weren’t soulmates.

Mark, Donghyuck, and Jaemin all fall silent. You don’t understand why they’re so hung up on the soulmate thing. Yeah, Mark and Donghyuck found each other, but you’ve come to realize that that’s not as common as you had originally thought. In fact, the whole soulmate system was flawed and you were over it.

Mark started the movie, but you didn’t pay attention to it, too worked up over their reactions to pay attention.

Jaemin kept fidgeting and it knocked you each time since you were still leaning on his shoulder.

You smacked his arm lightly. “Can you stop moving? It’s jostling me too,” you frown up at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and stops moving immediately.

You stop seeing Jaemin around constantly after that. He’s a different major than you, so it’s to be expected, yet it seems like he’s disappeared, although you know he hasn’t since Mark and Donghyuck seem to see him every day.

You ask them about it, but they just tell you he’s busy with upcoming exams.

The next time you see him, however, is when he’s chugging down two cans of beers with a random group of people at a party.

Jeno invited you to come to a party one of his friends was hosting. You still weren’t much of a party person, but he promised you that he’d stay by your side the entire night. You eventually told him you’d come and he hasn’t broken his promise since the two of you stepped inside.

He constantly had his arm around your back, guiding you around, or holding your hand, making sure you were there with him and feeling okay. He had gone to the bathroom though and told you to just wait for him in the kitchen. That’s when you saw Jaemin out of the corner of your eyes.

He was with one of the kids in your biology class, Renjun, and someone from your communications class, Lucas. There were a few others around him, also chugging down some drinks, but you didn’t recognize their faces.

“Jaemin?” you yell over the music as you approach him.

He whips his head towards you as soon as he hears your voice. He’s done his best to avoid you, not wanting to see you since you started dating Jeno. It only reminded him how much of a coward he was. He’s still done his best to be cautious and prevent himself from injuring his limbs so you didn’t have to feel anything, but you seemed to want to keep knocking into things to remind him that you were still connected.

“Y/n?” he asks, a little slurred from the alcohol in his system.

“What are you doing here and why are you downing beers?”

“Am I not able to do what I want, mom?” he asks rather harshly. He instantly regrets it, seeing you flinch back at his tone, but it’s too late to take it back.

“I was just asking.” You glare at him before storming off.

You head straight for the front door, not wanting to be in the suffocating frat house anymore. You send Jeno a text to tell him you’re outside before pocketing your phone and plopping your hands down on the front porch railing.

You’re not sure why Jaemin’s comment got you worked up, but it did, and now you just want to go home. You haven’t seen him in two weeks, much less talked to him, so the interaction with your best friend put you in a bad mood. He didn’t need to be so rude about it.

“What’s up, y/n?” you hear Jeno ask from behind you. He slots himself next to you, knocking into your shoulder a bit in an attempt to loosen you up.

“Nothing,” you huff. He raises his eyebrows at you, obviously not buying it. You sigh. “Jaemin was just being a dick.”

“Jaemin?” he tilts his head to the side. “I thought you said he didn’t like parties,”

“I didn’t think he did either, but he was there and he was downing beer like it was nothing,” you shrug. You lean your head on Jeno’s shoulder and he just wraps his arm around you.

“The alcohol probably clouded his speech and made it come out harsher than he thought. I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Jeno tries cheering you up. You just hum, still upset, but more upset at the fact you don’t know why it made you this upset.

You and Jaemin have had plenty of fights over the years and you always made up soon after them. It’s the first time the two of you hadn’t talked to each other in weeks without any explanation and the first time he’s snapped at you for seemingly no reason.

A loud bang and some yelling coming from inside the frat house spooked the two of you out of silence. You glance at each other before rushing inside to see the commotion.

What you don’t expect to see is Jaemin and another guy in the middle of a fight.

You don’t understand why it’s happening, but you do understand that your best friend is currently throwing punches at another boy mercilessly.

“Na Jaemin!” you scream and push your way through the crowd of people. You grab onto his arm, trying to cease his punching, but he just ends up colliding his elbow with your cheekbone, causing you to fall to the ground. You yell in pain and clutch your cheek and that’s what seems to catch Jaemin’s attention.

He glances back at you, horrified at what he had done. The other guy takes Jaemin’s halt to get back at him, however and kicks him in the side and Jaemin falls to the ground.

The fight gets stopped when a bunch of Jeno’s friends hold the other guy back from fighting anymore.

Jeno rushes over to you and helps you up, asking if you’re okay. Your throbbing cheek gets dismissed when you stand up and find your side aching. You didn’t fall on your side, but you know someone who had just got kicked in his side and is currently rocking the same blotchy bruise on his cheekbone as you.

You don’t process Jeno’s worries and you just stare at Jaemin. He seemingly understands why you’re shocked and he quickly slaps a hand over his own bruised cheek. “I can explain,” Jaemin starts, reaching out to you.

You smack his hand away rather harshly, feeling the same slap to your own hand and it all of a sudden clicks in your head. The bruises you wake up to when you know you hadn’t done anything to get them. The way Jaemin limps sometimes the day after you had knocked into the corner of your desk and when someone asks him about it, he just says he knocked into something as well. The way whenever you or your friends punch him, you get a dull ache in the same place as well.

You don’t process Jeno trying to take you away to the kitchen to put ice on your cheek and instead glare up at your best friend. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. I can’t believe you!” You yell at him.

How could he lie to you all this time? How could he tell you that his soulmate connection was just some timer he could see and whenever you asked what time his countdown was at, he just said in a few years? How could he keep it a secret from you for a year?

You shrug off Jeno’s attempts at asking you what’s wrong and storm out of the house, leaving a speechless and shocked Jaemin in the middle of the room.

You’re walking down the house’s driveway when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Leave me alone, Na Jaemin!” you scream and roughly shove off the hand.

“It’s me,” you hear Jeno’s soft, calm voice ring. It makes you stop immediately and turn around.

“I’m so sorry. I just thought you were Jaemin and I don’t know I’m so confused and mad and I don’t know what to think.” You suddenly burst out in tears. You’re stressed and confused and the sudden realization that your best friend is your soulmate is a lot.

Jeno pulls you into his chest, one of his hands resting on the back of your head while his other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close. The thumb on your side rubs soothing circles, but it does nothing to calm you down.

“Is Jaemin your soulmate?” Jeno asks.

You choke up, not wanting it to be real, but you and Jeno already know.

“Why him? Why Jaemin? I- fuck,” you hiccup into Jeno’s chest.

Jaemin runs out of the house to explain everything and try to fix everything but freezes when he sees you and Jeno. He knows the two of you are dating, yet it still strikes him in the heart. He can’t do anything about it and it pains him to see you in someone else’s arms, even more so the reason you’re there is because of himself.

He sees Jeno whisper something to you and starts leading you to his car. It drives off, but not before Jaemin makes eye contact with you as you glance out the window.

“You need to talk to him,” Donghyuck sighs.

It’s been a week since the party. Since you found your soulmate, yet you haven’t done anything to speak to him.

You did tell Jeno the next morning that you were breaking up with him and Jeno understood, even told you congratulations for finding your soulmate and that you should be with him instead. However, you made no effort to even so much as look for Jaemin after the party and Jaemin didn’t seem to make an effort either.

If you saw Jaemin walking in your direction, you immediately turned the other way and sped off in the opposite direction; didn’t matter that you were a few minutes late to your next class.

“I can’t,” you mumble from under your comforter. Donghyuck was sitting on your bed rubbing your back to try to comfort you and give you advice, but you weren’t taking it in. “What if there’s a reason he didn’t tell me? What if he doesn’t even want to be my soulmate and that’s why he didn’t tell me?”

You hear Donghyuck scoff. “Are you kidding me? He’s so whipped for you that he turned down the soccer team when Mark pointed out how many bruises and sore muscles he’ll get after practices and realize you’d get them as well.” Donghyuck smacks your head lightly.

“I thought he just didn’t make it on the team,” you pout. You remember the day Jaemin told you about the team roster.

He was so excited when he found out the university had a good soccer team and that they were looking for new players that he immediately bolted over to their booth and signed his name for try-outs.

You waited for him outside of his class the day the team lineup was supposed to be announced. You were so sure he was going to be placed on the team, you even bought him a little cupcake to celebrate, but he came out of his class with a sad smile. When he told you he didn’t make it on the team, you were so mad at the captain for not seeing how Jaemin had literally swept the team off their feet and made each goal during tryouts, you were ready to storm to their dorm and demand he was put on the team, but Jaemin just told you it was fine and it’s for the best.

You frowned at your best friend and gave him the cupcake anyways, telling him that it’s to heal his wounded heart instead.

“You’re so oblivious.” Donghyuck tsks.

“What do I do?” you whine as you kick him in the leg.

“Well, what do you want to do? Do you like him?” Donghyuck gently asks.

You whine from under your sheets.

You did. You did for a while.

When you first realize you liked your best friend, you were a sophomore in high school. You were deathly ill that day and stayed home from school. Jaemin had spammed you about coming to school, but you told him you had the flu and were dying from how shitty you felt. Throughout the day, he kept on texting you, asking if you were okay or just to tell you how much of an ass the teachers were being that day.

Near the end of the school day, he stopped texting you and you were kind of relieved, finally able to get a nap in without your phone dinging loudly a few seconds after another when you didn’t respond right away. Truthfully, you found it quite annoying, but underneath the constant messages, he was really worried.

You were drifting in and out of consciousness when the doorbell to your house rang. You were going to ignore it as it was probably just some annoying salesman that was trying to sell you another window seal, but the doorbell rang three more times in a row, effectively pissing you off.

You threw off your comforter and stormed your way down the stairs. “Who the fuck?!” You yelled although it came out more of a rasp due to your dry throat, as you opened the door. “Why are you here?” You ask, finding it was Jaemin standing outside.

“I thought you’d be lonely and hungry, so I’m here! Mark said he didn’t want to catch any disease you had so he decided to go home. Pussy,” Jaemin scoffed.

“What the hell? Leave. You’re going to get sick too,” you said and closed the door. He put a foot in the door, blocking it from fully shutting.

“At least take this soup!” he shouts. He shoves a bag of soup in your direction. You just stare at it. He’s never done something like this and you’re not sure why it makes your stomach flutter and your face heat up. You deduce it to your ill body and brush it off.

“Thanks now bye.” You say and take the soup, slamming the door in Jaemin’s face afterwards.

“You’re welcome! And take a shower, you smell!” you hear him shout from behind the door.

You scowl at the memory. How could you like your best friend? He’s supposed to be just your best friend! Feelings get complicated and mess everything up in the end.

“Y/n?” Donghyuck asks.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. You emerge from your blanket and sit up. “I told myself that I wouldn’t date my friends. It’ll just get messy,” you frown as you pick at some loose strings on the blanket.

“It’ll only get messy if you make it messy.” Donghyuck gives you a look.

You hate that he’s right

You told yourself all day that you’ll text Jaemin and ask him to meet you somewhere, but it’s now 3am and you still haven’t made a move. You were so afraid.

You kept going over what would happen if you confronted him about the soulmate thing and each time, it turned sour.

Mark and Donghyuck had stopped nagging you an hour ago, probably have fallen asleep, but you were still wide awake. You knew Jaemin was a night owl and the fact that it’s the weekend, he’s most definitely still awake.

You sit in your bed for ten more minutes, cursing yourself out for being such a coward, before you finally make up your mind. You’re going up to Jaemin’s dorm and fixing this mess. You miss your best friend and just want to sort this whole thing out. Doesn’t matter what the two of you chose to do from then on.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you stand in front of his dorm room, ready to knock on the door.

You’re in an oversized hoodie, hair tied up in a bun, and your glasses are perched on your face. It was a rash decision and you really regret not changing into something more presentable.

You hesitate to knock on his door, but when the third person walks by you, sending you a strange look, you decide that you hate standing outside awkwardly more than confronting your best friend and knock on the door.

It takes a while for you to hear anything, but you hear the soft footsteps of someone coming right before the door swings open to reveal a sleepy looking Jaemin.

His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions and his eyes are puffy from just waking up. You’re glad he sleeps with his shirt on or at least decided to put a shirt on before answering the door because you’re not sure how you’d handle a topless Jaemin at 3am.

“Y/n?” he asks surprised.

“Uh hey,” you give him a small wave and an awkward smile.

The two of you stand in silence for a few seconds before Jaemin realizes you’re standing out in the hallway of the boy’s hall and ushers you in.

The dorms aren’t big at all but it seems way smaller when you’re standing in the middle of his room while he just stares at you.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

“I just wanted to talk about everything,” you mumble.

Jaemin understands right away what you mean and stiffens up. He’s nervous about what you’ll say, what you’ll do. Will you reject the whole soulmate thing and stay with Jeno or will the two of you try it out or will you just dismiss the whole thing and act like you’re just two best friends with no connection to each other whatsoever.

He’s unsure and not knowing what you’re thinking scares him the most.

“When did you figure out we were soulmates?” you break him out of his thoughts.

“You’re 19th birthday,” he bites his lip. You’re taken aback at his response. That long? He’s known for that long and never told you!? “I noticed you had the same bruises as me and well when you punched me in the arm you flinched too and just I connected two and two together and figured it out...”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You frown. “Did you not want to be my soulmate?” You ask sadly.

As much as you’ve told yourself it’s fine if he doesn’t accept you to be his soulmate, it still hurts. You’ve been together for years as best friends. You already told yourself it was fine if he didn’t like you, but to just straight up dismiss the connection you two had? It hurts.

“No! Of course not!” he speaks right away. He quickly takes a few steps towards you until he’s right in front of you. You instinctively try to give yourself more space, but he places his hands on your shoulders, effectively keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you found out I’m your soulmate,”

You look up at Jaemin confused.

“I really like you, y/n. I’ve liked you since we were freshman when you slipped in front of the whole school during lunch and hurried to come sit down next to me really embarrassed that you grabbed my jacket and hid underneath it,” he explains. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the memory. You literally fell in front of the entire school and everyone looked to stare at you, wondering what happened. You just tripped over your own two clumsy feet and fell flat on your face. It was horrible and embarrassing and you stayed away from that cafeteria for an entire week afterwards.

You throw punches at him in the chest for bringing up that memory. “I can’t believe you brought that up! I can’t believe you even remember that!” You’re embarrassed and you don’t even process the fact he just told you he liked you.

Jaemin laughs and catches your fists from hitting him anymore. You struggle in his hold, still trying to punch him when he pulls you in closer. You collide with his chest at the same time he drops your hands to the side in favour of wrapping his hands around you back, keeping you close.

“I really really like you, y/n,” he says softly. He rests his head on top of yours as you stand still in his arms. “You said you never wanted to date your friends so I always kept quiet. When you said you had given up on finding your soulmate, I felt like a coward for never telling you. When you started dating Jeno, I couldn’t stand it. Every time I saw you with him, it always reminded me of how much I hated myself for never telling you so I tried my best to stay away from you,”

You bite your lip. You never knew he felt that way. His actions always came off as he didn’t care what you did, so you gave up on your feelings for him. You swore to yourself that dating a friend would just turn out poorly, but in the end, it was just an excuse to hide your feelings. Even when you started dating Jeno, you could never truly shake off your feelings for Jaemin.

“Jaemin...” you said, but he cut you off.

“I’m so sorry about what happened at that party. I didn’t mean to snap at you but just seeing you with Jeno when I entered, I let loose. I started downing so much alcohol to lessen the pain, but it didn’t work and I just lost it,” He lightly held you tighter. “That guy I was fighting kept talking about you and kept saying all this shit about how much of a nice fuck you’d be and I just couldn’t stand it and punched him. I didn’t mean to hit you too. I didn’t mean for you to find out we were soulmates that way.”

“Jaemin, it’s fine,” you say. You finally wrap your arms around him after the initial shock of his confession hits you. Your heart swells, but you’re still unsure of how to tell him. “I was really shocked to find out that you're my soulmate and I was mad at first, but I regret not letting you explain yourself,” you sigh.

You break apart from Jaemin’s hold, wanting to look at his face when you tell him. “I really like you too. Actually, I’ve liked you for a while,” you sheepishly say. You feel your ears burn red and see Jaemin’s eyes become larger. “I tried hinting at it in high school, but you never seemed to understand so I just thought you thought of me as just a friend so I kind of gave up. I told myself it’d be wrong to date a friend in case it ends badly and made up a dumb rule as an excuse to save my feelings.”

“You like me?” He asks, still shocked at your confession.

“Yes, you big idiot,” you roll your eyes. “You know, you’re really dense sometimes.” You scoff. You know he’s standing in front of you, trying to wrap his brain around your confession. His hands that are still holding your side are frozen as his expression is still shocked. He doesn’t say anything, and you’re really starting to get annoyed at his response, or lack thereof.

A few seconds pass by and he still hasn’t said anything and you’re over it. You stand on your toes as you bring your hands up to his cheeks and kiss him on the lips. It’s a small peck, really, but it seems to do the job.

His face flushes instantly and he stutters out a response.

“You’re really an idiot. I can’t believe I like someone like you,” you shake your head at his reaction.

“I wasn’t ready!” he complains. You laugh at his whining when he suddenly tackles you out of embarrassment at his reaction.

You’re thankful him and his roommate decided not to loft their beds together when the two of you fall on his bed. Jaemin buries his head in the crook of your neck as he whines, still embarrassed. You laugh at his cute reaction and comb your hand through his hair, trying to calm his dumb self down.

“Ugh, get a room!” Donghyuck yells as he and Mark walk up to the booth you and Jaemin are sitting at.

The four of you planned to meet up with each other at the cafe after your exams were done with to celebrate, but they were late, as usual, and you were bored. You had since seated yourself in Jaemin’s lap and started messing around with him. He teasingly complained that you were heavy and you knocked your back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Not remembering your connection, it effectively knocked the wind out of you.

Jaemin teased you for it and you just grumbled in response. He giggled and started pinching your sides lightly to tickle you and since he wasn’t ticklish, he didn’t feel it. You wiggled in his lap, struggling to get away from his hold, but he kept you close and in the end, you were left breathless from laughing and struggling away.

You heads were close together, Jaemin’s more like nuzzling into your neck. His hair tickled your cheeks and you kept giggling when he spoke, you could feel the vibrations against your neck.

Upon hearing Donghyuck’s gagging, the two of you looked up and stuck your tongues out at him.

“So childish. No wonder you two are soulmates. You’re perfect for each other,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“Makes up for every time we had to sit through you and Mark being disgustingly romantic together,” you retort back.

Donghyuck kicks you from under the table, obviously over your childish act.

You jump at the sudden pain in your shin at the same time Jaemin yelps out in pain. The two of you glare over at Donghyuck while he just smirks to himself.

“Violence is never the answer.” Mark disapproves.

“He started it!” You and Jaemin point your fingers at Donghyuck.

“I wish I never pushed you two to get together.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

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ghostspideys-moved · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Chapter Two

A/N: Okay, this one’s not as long as the last chapter, but I’m happy with how it turned out. Hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Summary: River takes some time to think about her decision on top of having a job now. It’s a big one, and Steve gives her the time she needs.

Steve had been more than happy to give River some time to think. It was a big decision, and not one to take lightly, either. In the time that she’d been weighing the pros and cons of this whole situation, he’d quit. Just as he predicted, River did end up getting the job. So far, things were going exactly the way they were supposed to pan, out, and she was set to work as soon as possible.

The nice thing was that she’d be taking Steve’s shifts with Robin, so at least the work day wouldn’t be totally insufferable. As soon as she’d put on the uniform, she could see why Robin and Steve hated it. It was...an interesting choice, but she could make it work, she supposed.

Day one was just as chaotic as she’d assumed it would be. The day started out well enough, and business was slow to start off with. Of course, that didn’t last very long, and soon River and Robin had to deal with a rush. Honestly, it wasn’t all that hot out, so she didn’t understand the demand this time of year, but at least they were getting customers.

As soon as they’d gotten through the worst of it, the two of them sat back and enjoyed the slight break while they could.

“So, did Steve talk to you?” Robin suddenly asked. It wasn’t the least bit surprising that she knew about the whole thing, especially with how close her and Steve were. And River did remember him saying she’d warned him not to come on too strong. Whether he’d actually heeded the warning or not.

“Um, yeah.” River sighed and leaned against the back counter. “I’m still working things out.” Truthfully, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. At some point, she made sure to bring it up to Hopper. As distraught as he was by the idea, he ultimately made sure she knew he supported whatever she chose to. The sentiment was nice, but it really didn’t help her decision at all.

Robin nodded in understanding. “I get it. You know, he’s really confident this is going to work out for him,” she added. “I mean, who knows, maybe it will.” River could sense some hesitation, and her thoughts were definitely conveying some concern, but once again, she tried not to pry and invade her privacy.

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Robin finally asked after some thought.

Curiously, River gave her a quizzical look and nodded.

“Whatever you decide, will you just make sure he doesn’t get too hard on himself if it doesn’t go the way he expects?” There was genuine concern in her voice, and she couldn’t blame her.

“Yeah. I will.”

River knew how he was. Steve was his own biggest critic. Even if he spoke so highly of this plan of his, she knew he would be very hard on himself if he failed.

Robin smiled and patted her back before she went to help a customer approaching the counter.

The rest of the work day was busy on and off, and most of it River spent mulling over her decision again. She’d come to a few conclusions and was sure she’d finally made up her mind.

The moment her shift was over, she said goodbye to Robin and left to head to Steve’s apartment. She’d only been there once before since he got it, but she remembered where it was. The only bad part was probably that she didn’t have a car - or even know how to drive for that matter - and had to walk the whole way. It wasn’t too far, but she really wished she’d at least had a bike. Maybe the kids had the right idea.

By the time she arrived and knocked on the door, her hair was a mess again. At some point, she’d take her hat off, which hadn’t helped. She tried to brush it out of her face, making a mental note that she was definitely due for a haircut soon.

After a moment, Steve opened up, smiling brightly the moment he laid eyes on her. He let her in, and she set her hat on the counter.

“I needed to talk to you,” River said. Might as well jump into things before she hesitated.

Steve seemed to know exactly where this was going and nodded. He leaned against the counter and waited with a hopeful heart that this was going to go the way he was hoping.

She stared down at her feet for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I like you, Steve. I really do.”

For a brief moment, he felt his heart sink. That was never a good start. Not wanting to make him worry, River quickly backtracked.

“I like you enough that, for all I know, I might be making a stupid decision. But I trust you,” she added. “If you really think you know what you’re doing, I wanna be supportive of that.”

Steve felt his spirits lift again. “So that’s a yes?”

River nodded, and he grinned like an idiot. She squealed in surprise when he picked her up, spinning her around for a moment. The moment he set her down again, Steve gave her a quick kiss that sent her heart fluttering.

“You won’t regret this, River. I promise,” he said. “God, you have no idea how happy I am right now.”

The grin on his face was a good enough indication for her, and she was beginning to think maybe this had been the right decision.

“Yeah, me too.” And she was. River was extremely happy.

Of course, she had to tell Hopper what she’d decided. And true to his word, he was very supportive and did his best to help her. The hardest part was probably moving all of her things. It really kept her occupied between shifts, and most days she tired herself out quickly.

At some point, it dawned on her that there was a much easier solution to her problem. The thing was, she owned a lot of action figures, books, posters, those sorts of things. And she could think of several children who were all as nerdy as she was.

As soon as she got a chance, she threw together a giant box of things she was willing to part with and headed to Mike’s house. That was their usual meeting place, so she was willing to bet that’s exactly where they were.

Naturally, she’d been right. Karen Wheeler greeted her and let her come in once she’d explained her unexpected visit. Sure enough, River found the kids gathered in the basement as per usual. Once they’d all eyed the box, she could see the curiosity and excitement gleaming in their eyes.

River set down the box and placed her hands on her hips. “Alright, let’s keep this civil, okay? You guys are welcome to look through the box and take whatever you want, but please don’t kill each other over it,” she said. “I don’t need all this anymore.”

That was all they needed to hear before they all started digging through the box excitedly. It was like watching sharks in a feeding frenzy. Dustin pulled out one of her action figures and gave her a look of shock.

“You’re really giving away your Star Trek shit?” he asked. “You never even let us touch these before.”

Admittedly, that had been the hardest decision. If there was any one thing she was obsessed with, it was Star Trek.

River sighed and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, oddly enough. I didn’t get rid of all of it, though, so don’t worry,” she assured him. “Only what I could part with is in the box.” There were a few things she’d opted to keep for herself. If these kids thought they were getting her model of the USS Enterprise, they were sorely mistaken.

It didn’t take long for them to choose whatever they wanted, though there was just as much arguing as she’d anticipated. Especially over a few of her comic books.

“Alright, you little gremlins got something out of this. Stay out of trouble,” River joked. “I got more packing to finish.” Thankfully, she was through the worst of it and was very close to finishing.

Just as she was about to leave, Mike perked up, seeming to remember something.

“Oh! Wait, River!” She turned curiously, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “Will and his family are coming back for a few days,” he said. “If you and Steve wanna join. They’re coming for Halloween.”

If she remembered correctly, Halloween was on a Friday, so they’d probably stay for the weekend assuming Will had to go back to school. They’d been gone long enough that Joyce must have enrolled him and Jonathan in school. Especially seeing as this was Jonathan’s last year.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t miss it,” she promised.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

Punk

Punk: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2648

Warnings: Smut (M|F, Oral and Vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers falls for the punk girl from next door. Maybe you have more in common than appearances would have you believe.

A/N: Normally when I do a reader insert I try and make the reader as physically a blank slate as possible. Sometimes I slip up a little by saying they put on Steve’s shirt or he runs his fingers through her hair or that she blushed. But I do usually try not to do any of that so you can put yourself physically into the reader. This is not the case with this one. @abigailredgrave and I actually hashed this out for a while. Part of what appealed to both of us with this concept was huge straight-laced Steve with a tiny punk girl. So she has a lot of physical descriptors. I have tried to be racially ambiguous still. But you are going to have to pretend you’re skinny and 5′1 and covered in tattoos. Sorry if that’s off-putting. I would normally only do that with OC’s but we decided on Reader for this.

Also, this was written before Black Panther and Infinity War so it’s based on a post CW world that doesn’t exist.

Punk

Steve sits sketching at his desk. The only light in the room coming from the dusty desk lamp next to him and the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling in the living room where Bucky lies on the couch reading. The stray tabby cat that had decided to adopt him sitting on his chest.

They’d been on the run for several months now. They’d settled in Canada, but even though Canada had been one of the countries not to sign the Accords, they were still playing it low key. Not venturing out too far. Only trusting select people.

He heard the drumbeat first and smirked. He remembered how annoyed he was the first time that asynchronous sound drifted through the walls. How he’d lain in bed holding his pillow over his ears, cursing under his breath. How eventually he’d cracked and stormed next door only to be greeted by you. 5’1, spiky pink hair, arms covered in sleeves of tattoos, dressed in a men’s shirt that fits you like a dress that had ‘The Ramones’ printed on the front. You’d been brushing your teeth and as soon as he’d asked you to turn it down you’d apologized profusely.

“Oh hey! I’m so sorry, man. I thought that apartment was empty. I’ll keep it down from now on.” You’d said as you’d stared up at him, toothbrush still in your mouth.

The following day you’d shown up dressed in a leather jacket, torn black jeans, boots and a leather collar around your neck. You had donuts and coffee for him to apologize. When you’d seen that Steve was living with Bucky and neither of them was fully clothed as they went about their morning routine, your first assumption was they were together. When you’d asked Bucky had laughed at you.

“With this punk? He’s not my type.” Bucky had said.

After that Steve had just found himself drawn to you. It made no sense. You were nothing like him. You were everything he wasn’t. Small and fearless. Ready to stand up for yourself and anyone around you. Colorful and social. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Sounds like she’s home!” Bucky calls out.

Steve gets up and wanders into the living room. “I should tell her to keep it down.” He says.

“You gonna ask her out this time?” Bucky asks, looking up at Steve. His hand absentmindedly going to going to the cat’s head and giving it a scratch. It flexed its front paws and started purring loudly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Like she’d be interested in me at all. What do we have in common?”

Bucky bursts out laughing, disturbing the cat. It jumps off his chest and runs under the couch. “Steve. If you were born a girl in the nineties she is exactly who you would be. She is more you than you are because you always tried to act respectable and she’s just ‘fuck it, fight me’.”

“But…”

“But, nothin’, pal. So she has tattoos and dies her hair and she’s small. Did you forget you were small once too?” Bucky says.

“I didn’t get tattoos or dye my hair,” Steve says, hunching his shoulders.

“Stop making excuses,” Bucky says simply. “You know she turns that music up so you go over there right? She stopped doing it for a whole week and then when you didn’t come ‘round she started doing it again.”

“You think?” Steve says. He’s hopeful, but also terrified. He hasn’t dated. He doesn’t know how to do it at all. Let alone in this world. Let alone with you.

“I know. Now go tell her to turn it down.” Bucky says.

Steve heads over and knocks on the door. You were waiting for him and when you open it you just launch yourself into his arms. “Stevie!” You squeal as he closes his arms around you, completely enveloping your tiny frame in his large one. “Is the music too loud? I’ve been to a concert and my ears are all blocked. You ever get that?” That isn’t a lie, but that isn’t why you have the music up. You know it draws him over.

“Sometimes… not normally from music though. Once it was from aliens.” Steve says as he lets you go.

You head to your stereo, switching it off. “Your life is crazy.” You say. “You wanna drink?”

Steve chuckles. “You’re talking so loudly. But yes. I’ll have a drink.”

You go take a beer out of the fridge one for you and one for Steve. He opens it and drinks. Sometimes he questions why he bothers. He doesn’t love the taste of beer, and he doesn’t get the added effects most people get when they drink it.

“Hey so, I know it’s not your thing. But there’s a club in town. They’re having a 70s punk revival night tomorrow. Some people put my name down on the door. You wanna tag along?” You ask.

Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. He does want to go with you somewhere. But he couldn’t think of a place where he’d be more out of place. You take a swig of beer and assess him as he internally weighs up all the pros and cons of saying yes.

“Nah, dude. Never mind. It’s not your thing I get it.” You say when the pause seems to be getting uncomfortable.

“No. No, it’s okay.” Steve says, quickly. The sudden fear he’ll miss the only opportunity he gets rushing in on him. “I’ll go.” He takes a long drink of the beer. “Tomorrow?”

You light up. “That’s wicked good. I’ll come get you. At say; eight? We can get food first.”

That’s how you and Steve end up on your first date. You walk the street together towards the club. You with your leather cuffs and jacket. Your thick black boots and your torn black tee and jeans. Him in his tan pants, sensible shoes, and light blue shirt. To his credit, he’s also wearing a leather jacket, but it’s tan too.

You couldn’t look more different if you’d aimed to.

When you both get to the club you give the doorman the name and he lets you in, you’re walking through the door when Steve gets stopped. “Where do you think you’re going, bub?”

You turn back to see the bouncer with his hand on Steve’s chest and Steve looking at you helplessly.

“Hey, what are you doing? He’s with me?” You snap, puffing your chest out.

“Yeah, well I guess you’re not going in either. Because Grandpa isn’t getting through that door.” The bouncer growls.

You shove yourself right up in the guy’s personal space. “Are you fucking kidding me? He is with me! My name is on the list!” You shout up into the guy’s face.

Steve shifts nervously watching you. Really not wanting to make a scene. Not being able to afford to make a scene.

“You wanna try something, little girl?” The bouncer growls, shoving you backward. You raise your fists about to launch yourself at him when Steve’s arms wrap around your waist and he drags you away. You struggle, legs kicking.

“Please stop,” Steve says, firmly. “I can’t have the police come. Do you understand that?”

You nod, taking a deep steadying breath. “That can’t just treat you like that because you look different.” You seethe.

He turns you to face him and caresses your thumb with his cheek. “Bucky was right.” He says.

Your breath starts to steady and you look up into his blue eyes. “About what?”

“He said you were just like me. You are so much like me.” He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You reach your hands up and put them around his neck, pulling him down to you.

“This is kinda fast for me.” He breathes, his lips are so close to yours. Not saying it because he doesn’t want it. Just because he feels it needs to be said.

His words startle you a little. You’re so used to guys just taking what the want. Rushing you. To hear this is not his norm is surprising. “Do you not want it?” You ask.

He answers by pressing his lips to yours. You had both expected just a brief touching of lips. It becomes so much more. Your lips part and tongues meet as they both try to access the other’s mouth. He pulls you hard up against him and you card your fingers through his hair.

Your skin feels hot, but not as hot as Steve’s. He realizes that in this moment he wants you. He’s been with other women before. But normally in the past, that happened after spending countless hours together. Usually working. He’d never just gone out and immediately wanted to go home again for sex.

You pull back and look up at him. “We did dinner. Do you want to just go home?” You ask.

Steve swallows and nods. You take his hand and get in the first taxi that will take you. In the back seat, you’re all over each other. Kissing and running your hands over each others body. You sneak your hand to his cock and feel him, hard and straining against his pants, before he takes your hand and moves it away.

When you get back to the apartment block, you rush upstairs taking two stairs at a time. You get to your apartment and scramble to unlock the door as Steve kisses your neck. Once in, jackets are shed. There is no illusion about coffee or watching Netflix, or any other reason why you should be here. You want each other, desperately.

Steve pulls your shirt off over your head and you start unbuttoning his. You get impatient and tear it. Buttons pop off and shoot across the room. Steve growls and lifts you off the floor pushing you against the wall. Kissing you hard. You wrap your legs around his tiny waist and he grinds his cock against you. You both moan at the friction of your pants pushing against your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, Steve. I need you inside me.” You moan. You head falls back and he starts sucking on your throat. It makes you moan louder and your cunt starts to drip for him. Steve pulls back, a mark already forming on your skin.

“Say that again.” He growls. His cock aches. He wants nothing more to have it buried deep into your pussy. To feel your heat and wet squeezing tightly around him.

“I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me, Steve.” You mewl.

Steve grunts. No one has ever spoken to him like that before. His cock throbs in his pants. He carries you wrapped around him in the direction of the bedroom. He set you on your feet and you unhook your bra and turn around to take off your jeans. You do it slowly, wiggling your ass in his face.

Steve groans as he takes his own shoes and pants off. But it’s not just that you’re teasing him. It’s everything about you. Your tiny, feminine frame. The sleeve tattoos that continue down your back and curl around your waist, finishing at your hips only to take up again on your thighs. How bright your hair and skin look. With all the colors that don’t normally feature on a person naturally.

He drops his pants and boxers and steps out of them. Bucky had insisted he take protection with him. Steve had tried to tell him that he wouldn’t need it, he never moves this fast. But Bucky wouldn’t stop hassling him until he did. So he fishes the condom out of his wallet and rolls it on.

“Take those panties off,” Steve growls. He can’t even quite believe these are words coming from his own mouth. You look over your shoulder and smile at him before slowly dragging them down.

Steve approaches you and starts tracing along your tattoos with his mouth. He kisses the path they make on your back. His tongue flicks over your skin. As they loop back around to your stomach he turns you and you fist his hair in your hands.

He reaches your pubic mound which is when the tattoos stop, only he doesn’t. He tips you back onto the mattress and spreads your legs. You squirm as you anticipate what’s coming.

Steve spreads your folds with his fingers and flattens his tongue, lapping up your crevice. As his tongue slides over your clit you moan. He repeats the process again, getting intoxicated by the scent and taste of you. It makes his cock throb and leaks in the condom. He places large open mouth kisses on your pussy. His mouth is able to cover all of it in one go. You arch on the mattress and he presses a hand on your hip bone to hold you down.

He sucks on your clit and pushes two fingers inside of you. You start to beg. You beg for him to stop torturing you. To let you come or to at least start fucking you. You beg for his dick.

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing though. As much as he wants to. As much as your words make him want to come even before he’s inside you. He keeps sucking and biting on your clit. His tongue flicks over it. He counters by dragging his fingers on the walls inside you. It all feels amazing and you’re close just poised to break when he finds your g-spot and presses hard against it.

You scream out and buck violently under him. Your orgasm tears through you. He pulls his fingers from inside you but his tongue keeps working on your pussy as you ride out your orgasm.

He stands and you both crawl up onto the bed. Him stalking after you. He kisses you and you cling to him. Your fingers digging into his back. “Say it again.” He whispers. “Beg me for it.”

He presses his cock against your pussy and starts sliding it up and down. The head presses against your clit with every forward thrust.

“Please, Steve. Please. I need your dick. I need it inside me.” You whimper. “Give it to me.” The last phrase isn’t begging, it’s ordering. He complies and he enters you.

You gasp and arch up as your body stretches to accommodate his girth. “Oh fuck... Fuck yes.” You cry.

He starts to thrust, moaning at the way your pussy feels squeezing around him. The heat and softness paired with the ridges and the way the muscles expand and contract. Milking his cock.

Your body is almost enveloped by his. You bite at his shoulder and wrap your legs around him as he curves his back to reach more of you with his mouth. He kisses along your collarbone and sucks at your nipples. You dig your fingers into him as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Steve… I’m gonna… Oh fuck… can I?” You babble.

He looks down into your eyes. “Of course, sweetheart. I want you to.”

You arch back and your core clenches as your second orgasm sweeps through you. The pulse of your pussy brings him over with you. And he empties inside of you.

As his cock stills, he slips from within you and pulls off the condom, throwing it in the trash. He settles on your bed beside you, and you curl into his chest with his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I told Bucky that I was absolutely not going to have sex with you,” Steve says, kissing your forehead. “That it would be too soon. I am not going to hear the end of this am I?”

You laugh and nuzzle into his neck. “From that punk? I doubt it.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #punk

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wincore · 6 years

Text

easy to love | na jaemin

pairing: jaemin x reader

words: 3.1k

prompt: animejaem sent: jaemin + organizing a valentine’s party together when reader has the BIGGEST crush on him 🥰

genre: college!au, friends-to-lovers!au, a whole lotta fluff

warnings: uhhh does pining count?

a/n: i’ll be posting the requests in between my larger projects !!

You think Valentine’s Day isn’t worth the hype. Simple things like chocolates and flowers are way more expensive than on literally any other day, the only movies on TV are the ones that make you gag, you can’t go out without feeling awkward and the holiday is just generally pointless. If you’re in love, why do you need a specific day to show your love, and why does it last for only a day? How do you even convert an act of love into material commodity? It doesn’t seem to have any personal meaning, neither does it seem to make a relationship any better. To conclude you are not terribly fond of Valentine’s Day, and your plans only ever consist of binge watching and consuming a higher amount of unhealthy snacks.

But sometimes you have an exception to not going out on this day, and that exception is Na Jaemin.

You wake up groggy to a text from Jaemin asking you to help him organize the Valentine’s Day gathering you have among friends (and ‘friends’ also include friends of your friends who will inevitably barge in and ultimately, the entire student body will be there) followed by a series of smile emojis and pleading eyes emojis. You’d make up an excuse to refuse, but it’s Jaemin—Jaemin, whose smile alone makes your cheeks red, who you can’t help but stare at during classes, whose voice, even if it’s over the phone, is enough to make your heart warm and jittery.

I’ll be there in an hour, you text him as your feet touch the cold ground beside your bed. You sigh deeply, placing your face in your hands and curse yourself. If it weren’t for your overwhelming affections, you could be enjoying a few more hours of sleep. Everything still feels hazy as you rub the sleep from your eyes and weigh the pros and cons of your decision. It’s far too early to walk to Jaemin’s place but clearly he doesn’t have any sense of time. And neither do you, apparently, as you walk sluggishly towards your washroom to get ready.

The cold breeze brushes your cheeks as you make your way towards Jaemin’s place, fortunately only a few minutes’ walk away. The clouds, painted with the colour of the night, follow your steps and you know that they’ll be a watery red soon, when the sun decides to peek its face into your corner of the world. The only times you notice these things are when you’re alone, or when Jaemin points them out to you. He’s more observant than people give him credit for and while you’re glad you’re the one who mostly gets to see that, you wish he’d share more with the world. In a city where summer is yet to come, you can only hope for the best as the usual thoughts plague your mind. Should you try spilling your feelings to Jaemin this Valentine’s? Maybe with some chocolates to further sweeten the bittersweet aftertaste they leave in your mouth?

Don’t ring the doorbell, Jaemin texts you when you’re standing outside his door.

You don’t have to wait long before the door swings open with more force than Jaemin probably anticipated as he cringes at the sudden ‘bang!’ and pulls you in wordlessly. He places a finger over his lips, lets out a soft ‘shh!’ and walks up the stairs, with you trailing behind him.

“I would’ve come over, but your roommates would freak out,” Jaemin whispers when you’re inside his room.

“Anyone would freak out if they spot someone knocking on their window in the middle of the night!”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Jaemin grins, rubbing the back of his head.

The room is barely lit, but you can see his messy hair, the tip of his nose and the curved corner of his lips illuminated by the table lamp. He looks at you expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of response but you don’t know what he’s expecting. You don’t know the number of times you’ve found yourself in Jaemin’s presence when the stars are still shining bright in the night sky, but one of these nights made you realize where your emotions lie. The tempo of your heartbeat goes overboard if you look at him long enough, if you think about him long enough. That’s why you mostly resort yourself to acting as if nothing’s wrong, ignoring the unnecessary flow of thoughts and being a friend that didn’t make things awkward.

“Classes start in three hours,” you tell Jaemin, “Why couldn’t we discuss then?”

“Because there’s too many people then,” he complains, “And we barely have that many classes together.”

“So?”

Jaemin pouts. “So you don’t wanna help me?”

“Why should I, Na Jaemin?” your eyes crinkle as you lean back on his bed.

Jaemin hums, pretending to think. “Because of all the times I helped you skip class? Or because I give you my notes every time you ask?”

You sit back up, scrunching your eyebrows. Jaemin places a finger on his chin and continues his exaggerated acting.

“Also I helped you hide when you accidentally broke the window to the Dean’s office. Oh! Remember that time in high school when we first—”

“Okay, okay! I wasn’t actually asking for a descriptive essay,” you cut in.

Jaemin grins. You knew you’d listen to him from the moment you read his text, his winning smile means nothing to you.

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, tilting your head to one side.

“This year’s theme is,” Jaemin pauses to think. “Love yourself!”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Love yourself?”

“Yeah. It’s better for the kids who don’t feel loved or popular, you know?” he says. “Besides, I’m tired of couples making out wherever.”

“Okay, Mr. Class Rep. It’s all up to you,” you say, “But why do we have to plan at this ungodly hour and a day early?”

“They didn’t inform me earlier,” he frowns.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“And I had too much coffee so I couldn’t sleep, yeah.”

You smack your forehead.

“Jaemin, I warned you about your obsession so many times.”

Jaemin huffs. “We’re getting off course!”

“Jaemin—"

“There’s no time!” he presses.

“Fine. What do you want to do?”

Jaemin beams at you and you feel a soft drumming inside your chest. He starts to elaborate on his quick yet decent enough ideas for hosting the annual party ( “It can’t be worse than last year, Jaemin.” “Last year was Donghyuck’s fault. And Renjun’s.”) and while you’re planning a party which revolves around affections and love, you can’t get yours out in the open. It would be disastrous, no doubt.

You sleeping through your classes is entirely Jaemin’s fault. He promised he’ll make it up to you somehow, and you know he will because of the way he is. He’ll probably buy you ice-cream or take you to a café and while all that’s in good spirits, it makes you more frustrated, more annoyed at all the looks you get, all the assumptions that you wish were true.

“Why isn’t it in the dorms?” you ask Jaemin, following him into the student hall.

“Do you know how many people end up coming? It’ll be suffocating,” Jaemin says, his back turned to you.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” you say, “But this hall looks creepy.”

“That’s why we have decorations!” Jaemin says, shoving a bunch of pink, golden and red streamers at you.

“Where- when did you even get these?” you ask, looking at the lively colours sprawled across your arms.

“Jeno bought them. Oh, and Renjun’s probably coming to help.”

“Okay.”

The occasion needs minimalistic decorations according to Jaemin (“Because love should be the main event!” “I’m not even going to tell you how dumb that sounds.”) and on the bright side, it reduces your physical workload. Jaemin rushes from corner to corner, your head following his movement as he gestures for you to give him the ribbons and garlands. The hall already looks a little brighter by the time you’re finished, all the little touches added by Jaemin standing out to you.

“I need those heart-shaped post-it notes,” Jaemin says, knitting his brows. His mouth is slightly parted and his eyes stare off into the distance as he looks like he’s processing all that he has to say. The sunlight that has snuck in plays on his cheeks and eyes and sometimes you wish you’d stop viewing him like that, like he’s a work of art. Sometimes you wish your miserable state of mind didn’t get any worse with each look, each word, each smile Jaemin gave you.

You end up telling Jaemin to make a shopping list and while he insists on going to the store himself, you tell him to sit there and wait for Jeno and Renjun.

You do the shopping, wanting to get out of the slow, smothering atmosphere, engulfed by your own leaking affections. You return not too long after, to see Jaemin leaning back on one of the chairs, his phone pressed to his cheek.

“What do you mean you’re not coming now?” his voice comes out in a low tone. “That’s not helping!”

Jaemin’s cheeks gradually turn pink at whatever the voice through the phone says. “No, you don’t understand. That won’t help!”

“Yes…I still get butterflies, Renjun- why are you laughing? It’s true- it’s not that cheesy!”

You think hard about Jaemin’s declaration, so much that you forget you’re holding a bag of stuff and almost trip into to the hall. Jaemin perks up at your sudden entrance and while you rub the back of your head sheepishly, Jaemin rushes to you and holds the bag.

“Turns out Renjun isn’t coming, after all,” he informs you.

“Oh, that’s okay.”

Jaemin adorns a broad smile as you try finishing up the extra details with him, and you don’t notice the soft looks he gives you every time you’re so focused, your tongue pokes out or when you try your hardest to scrutinise every corner of the hall.

“What’s this for?” you point at the stack of Valentine’s Day themed post-its in Jaemin’s hand.

“It’s for people to write what they love most about themselves. Or what they think is the best thing about them.”

“That’s nice,” you smile.

Jaemin takes out a pen to scribble something and sticks it on the wall beside you. You squint to read it (“My handwriting isn’t even that bad!”) but you only find your name written with a heart drawn beside it.

“Because you’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Jaemin winks.

You hit your forehead against the back of your hand, and despite the cheesiness, your cheeks heat up at the look of glee Jaemin gives you.

Jaemin walks you home with the setting sun tracing your footsteps. You don’t speak all that much, like you do when you’re comfortable, but at moments like these, you wish you could hold his hand or do all the things you aren’t allowed. The shape of his lips change with each expression he makes, still rosy and looking soft despite how chapped they are, and his cheeks glow with a residual pink from running out of the hall and the honey in his eyes you get to see when faces you leave a sweet taste in your mouth. It’s difficult to not stare at Na Jaemin. Sometimes, you wonder how all his features came together to create something so incredibly lovely, something so Jaemin. When you reach, he thanks you, tells you to wear something pink, and runs back towards his own place after waving a quick goodbye.

You enter the party to find some additions by Jeno and Renjun like the fairy lights and a huge banner saying ‘Welcome!’ with a lot of unnecessary hearts. There’s also doodles which suspiciously resemble you and Jaemin which you wouldn’t have noticed unless Renjun specifically pointed them out to you. Oh, how you wish you could deck someone in the face in public.

It’s actually enjoyable being there, though. People did write the notes, you notice when you see the wall almost filled with fluttery pink notes, Jaemin’s one lost in the bunch. Most of the guests are engaged in their own little world or shoving snacks into their mouths—an accurate representation of what Valentine’s Day is like around the world. The place isn’t overwhelmingly pink, there are mostly different shades of it, sure, but they remind you of Jaemin and the effort he put in.

People have unanimously decided the dress code is pink and while you couldn’t find anything suitable in your wardrobe, you ended up with the pink beret Jaemin gave you for your birthday last year. Speaking of whom, you don’t see him anywhere for a good ten minutes after arriving, mostly following Renjun and Jeno around to help them set the chocolates at the snacks table, or eating said chocolates at the snacks table. Donghyuck makes a face at the old love songs playing as soon as he enters the hall and brings his phone to undoubtedly change it to some other weird playlist.

You find Jaemin in a pink corduroy jacket, surrounded by a bunch of people from uni, looking a little more than flustered. His hair looks soft albeit a little messy although he must have styled it before coming, and overall, his presence seems to be the core of the celebrations. He looks like an angel when he meets eyes with you, and the hearts your brain makes you see floating around him don’t help.

Jaemin excuses himself with a polite smile and jogs over to you, wreathed in smiles. You smile back and there’s an unexpected silence before either of you speak.

“You look cute,” Jaemin points to the pink beret.

“Th-thanks,” you manage to say through the sudden awkwardness.

Before Jaemin can say anything else, he’s pulled by the arm by some guy who points to a girl looking shy in the corner. You can already tell she’s going to confess her undying love for Jaemin and while you know he’s going to reject her with the sweetest no, you wish you had that kind of confidence too. If you tell him, would he laugh at you? Would he even grace you with his sweet ‘no’?

The ‘what if’s swirl around your head and you take a seat at the corner of the hall. Suddenly, all you see are people in love—people tucking flowers in their partners hair, or talking while holding each other’s hands, or showing affection in simple acts of kisses or hugs or feeding each other. They all have someone to belong to, someone to protect, to cherish, to experience things with.

“Hey.”

You look to your side to see Jaemin already sitting beside you, a curious look on his face. You push your feelings aside to shoot him a playful smile.

“Broke another heart, Jaemin?”

Jaemin’s cheeks turn as pink as the streamers and you almost instantly regret saying that.

“I felt bad,” he starts but trails off.

“I know,” you reassure him. Jaemin isn’t paying a whole lot of attention, though, and you think maybe you should tell him too. You should tell him that you’ve liked him since high school, when he found you hiding from your friends on your birthday to prevent getting caked in the face, you liked him when he offered to walk you home the first time, you liked him when he told you he’s relieved that you’re both going to the same college. You like him when he’s thinking quietly, you like him when he says something stupid to annoy you, and you feel like you’ll like him endlessly with every passing second you spend with him—every passing second that pronounces the voice of his existence.

“Jaemin.”

“Yes?”

“We’re friends, right? How would you feel about being more than friends?” you rush through your words, getting redder by the second. You’re not one subject to impulsive actions, but maybe, maybe Na Jaemin is an exception to this too. His lips are pressed into a thin line, pink with the chapstick you had bought him a long time ago.

“What?”

No. You’re not saying that again. If you have to, you’ll pretend this conversation never happened.

“You like me?” Jaemin freezes, his eyes scanning your face for a response.

“I- uh- yeah. Wow. That wasn’t how I was planning to tell you. I mean, there were chocolates in the initial plan.”

“Are you kidding me?” You flinch at the sudden rise of his tone. “We could have been going out all this time?!”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t have had to do all this.”

“What?”

“In my defence, this wasn’t my idea,” Jaemin makes a sour expression.

You didn’t expect planning for a party to be your friends’ grand idea to get you and Jaemin together, and you don’t know how that works either. While that was a total failure, the dawning realization that maybe you’re not spending this Valentine’s alone makes your heartbeat quicken and your face warm.

“Will you go to the café with me this Saturday?” Jaemin smiles the brightest of smiles at you.

“I’m not having your poison coffee.”

“You ruined a perfectly nice moment.”

You smile and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, both of you shaking with silent laughter.

“Let’s leave before Donghyuck shoots us another look,” Jaemin tells you, taking hold of your hand and glaring at the sudden change of music.

The skies are pretty (or are you saying that because you’re happy?) and even more so when the late afternoon paints it orange and pink.

“You’re mine? You’re really mine?” Jaemin asks when you’re outside the gates.

You nod as you try to process the words yourself, a slow red rising in your cheeks.

Jaemin smiles the warmest smile before leaning in to peck your cheek. It’s a simple gesture—couples do it often, but it leaves your cheeks burning red and hot more than ever. Calling yourself a couple doesn’t make it any better, neither does the way Jaemin looks at you, or his fingers playing with yours.

Jaemin leans in again, and right when you feel his breath on your lips, he pulls back, shaking his head. When you continue looking at him with doe eyes, he laughs.

“That’s for Saturday,” he says, “If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop.”

There’s a lot to look forward to on Saturday, you think. Besides the fact that it’s a weekend, you’re going out with Jaemin, someone who you thought you’d never be able to ask out. Someone who makes your heart explode into stardust but someone who puts it at ease.

There’s a lot to look forward to on Saturday. Cheaper chocolates, your choice of coffee, Jaemin’s lips—all of them, at the top of your list of favourite things.

1K notes · View notes

allaboutthebooz · 6 years

Text

Send My Love (To Your New Lover) Part Two

Summary: Y/N and Jensen have been working on Supernatural together for ten years. They’ve also been dating for eight years, until Jensen called it off, months before their wedding. A year later, Jensen is getting married and Y/N feels it’s time to move on. Her contract is up and she’s ready to expand her resume, but can she give everything up when they want her to sign on for more seasons? Can she keep her distance from Jensen as he prepares to get married to someone that isn’t her? Can she move on?

Warnings: Just some angst

A/N: It’s almost Christmas! Has anyone finished their shopping? I have. I even have everything wrapped. I have decided that I will be posting the next parts on Thursdays and Saturdays, exceeeeept for today. Because we are so close to Christmas, I wanted to give you all a gift. It’s not going to be big, but I know you will love it. I will be posting part three today as well. The only thing is that there will be no new post on Thursday. My family does a lot of traveling within the area I live in. I have a HUGE family, so Thursday will be one of the days that we will be out. But I hope that you all enjoy part two and three! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

When you made it back to the car with the script burning a hole in your purse, you decided that you didn’t want to have lunch by yourself. You needed help making a decision and you knew the only person that you could talk to was your PA, who was also your best friend. Amanda would be the one who would help you make a choice. She was always the one that you went to, when you had to make hard decisions like this. You grab your phone from your purse and send her a text asking if she could meet you at Bottega Louie. They’re Chicken Parmesan was amazing. Expensive, but amazing.

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting at a table by the windows. The new script that Bob gave Jena is open on the table as you try to read through it while waiting for Amanda. You try weighing the pros and cons about resigning your contract. The main one being that your character, Anne was in a relationship with Dean and like every other love interest of his, was supposed to finally be sent off in a burning pile of wood, salt, a gasoline. You begged the writers to do. You begged them to kill you off, so there wouldn’t be a chance for you to come back. You were supposed to film that episode in the coming weeks after a small hiatus, so that you could go to different meetings and interviews for projects you had coming up. After Jimmy Kimmel, you have to hope on a plane and take a three-hour flight to Vancouver to finish filming. You were ready to say goodbye, but with the new script sitting in front of you, you don’t know what to do.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear the chair across from you scrape the floor as it gets pulled out or notice the person sitting down across from you.

“Y/N!” The owner of the voice finally getting your attention as you look up in slight shock.

You see Amanda looking at you with a small amount of worry behind her crystal blue eyes. You shake your head to clear your thoughts and give her a smile.

“Sorry! I was just reading this script.”

“Ooo! Is that you first script for Stranger Things?!” She asks. You can see the excitement begin to replace the worry.

You sigh and look at her. “No, it’s the script for season 15.” You pass the script to her. “They want me to renew my contract. I don’t know what to do.”

You watch her look over the schedule, her chocolate brown hair, falling around her face as she reads the first page. She looks up at you and blows air through her pink lips, her cheeks puffing.

“I think we need mimosas.” Is all she says, making you laugh.

You nod, and she waves the waiter over. You both order your drinks and food and wait. She reads through the script a bit more as the waiter places the drinks in front of you both.

“Keep them coming.” You tell him as you raise your glass to your ruby red lips and take a big gulp.

You don’t have to look at him to see his eyes turn to saucers. “Yes ma’am.” He responds before turning on his heel and walking away.

Finishing off your drink in another big gulp, you wait for Amanda to say something. “Well? What do you think?”

She shakes her head, closes the script, and looks at you. “This is all up to you, baby girl. I saw Jen’s Instagram post this morning. I know you were already having a hard-enough time to begin with. Do you really want to continue to do the show, knowing that you have to keep up this onscreen relationship with him, but you can’t actually be with him?”

You clench your jaw and flare your nostrils. Trying to keep the lump in your throat down. You shake your head. “How can I? We were supposed to get married and he just called everything off. No reason, just ended it. And then a few months later, he’s with her and now he’s supposed to marry her.” You feel your face get hot and the lump in your throat rises. You feel your eyes prick with unshed tears. “And I had to keep working with him. I begged for them to kill me off. I knew my contract was up this season and I begged them for this. I can’t look at him every day, anymore. I’m not over him. We were together for eight years. How am I supposed to be over him so fast? How can he be ready to marry someone else after only a year? They haven’t even been together for a year.” You can feel your composure slipping as you begin to ramble. You can feel the tears begin to fall as you try to hold in the sobs that bubble in your chest.

Amanda moves her chair around the table next to you and pulls you to her. “I know, Y/N/N. I know. I’m so sorry. I could kill him. I could really kill him for doing this to you.” She brushes a hand through your hair as you hide your face in her neck.

“He called me this morning.”

She pulls away from you so that she could look at your face. “He what?”

You sniffle and nod. “He called to tell me. Hoping that I wouldn’t see anything before he did. He said that I should have heard it from him.” You pick up the cloth napkin off the table and begin to dry your face and wipe your nose.

“I’m gonna kill him. He should have fucking waited until after you guys wrapped the season in a few weeks to propose to her. And he should have told you in person. He shouldn’t have fucking called you. Are you fucking kidding me?” She moves away from you to grab her purse, snatching her phone out of it. She unlocks it and begins to type quickly on it.

“Don’t text him. I don’t want to deal with right now. I’ll deal with him, when we get Vancouver. Right now, I need to decide if I’m going to do this or not. I need to let Jena know if I’m going to sign back on or not. I have to call her before you and I leave for New York in a couple hours.” You look down at the watch on your wrist. “Speaking of our flight, are packed? Are your bags in your car?” You change the subject, hoping that she will move on.

“Yeah I brought them with me.” She takes the bait.

“Good. I’m not hungry anymore. I need to swing by the house and drop off my car. Cliff is gonna be going with us. He’s going to stick with us until we get to Vancouver. The studio thought we would need him more than the guys.” You throw enough cash on the table to cover the drinks and food that had yet to arrive, tip included. You gather your purse and the script and move to stand up.

“If you want to leave your car at my house, I get Cliff to stop and get us something greasy and sweet on the way to airport.”

She gives you a concerned look before nodding. She gathers her stuff and you both walk out heading in different directions to your cars.

The drive to your house is short. You are climbing out of the car as Amanda pulls in through the gate. You wait for her to park, before moving to her trunk to help unload her bags. You get your front door unlocked in time to hear the gate roll open and Cliff’s black SUV moves through the gate and around the curved driveway, before stopping in front of the front door. His large figure climbs out of the car.

“Hey Cliff. I just gotta grab my bags and then we can go.”

“Hey girls. Take your time Y/N.” He moves around the car and pulls Amanda’s bags to the back before opening it up and loading them up. While he’s occupied, you open the front door and run up the stairs to grab your bags. Just a large suitcase and a duffel bag. Most of your things are in the apartment in Vancouver. You lug the bags down the stairs and out the front door. Your purse already in the backseat of the SUV. Cliff takes the bags from you and puts them in the trunk as you climb in the back. He shuts the door for you and climbs in the front. “Ready, ladies?” He asks as he puts the car in drive and pulls back up to the gate.

“Yeah. Can you stop and grab some burgers and milkshakes first? I told Amanda we would get them on the way.”

“Of course.”

@liebemeineslebensx @spnfamily-thewinchesters @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @cookiechipdough @maralisa124 @tmiships4life @greyeyedsmile14 @aomi-nabi @keikoraventeller @captaindorit0 @frozenhuntress67 @nerdygirlwithacrush @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @everyfallentear @jxnnxbrxwn @staradroned @parkeret @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

If your name has a line through it, it is because I am not able to tag you for some reason. I will try to tag you in a separate post or in the notes, but maybe check to see if it is something on your end? IF you think you have fixed it, let me know please! I want every last one of you to enjoy this series!

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester reader insert #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester reader insert #sam x reader #supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 6 years

Text

Protection Squad - Two

2/15

A kind woman offers you a place of work at the animal shelter she owns and one of the animals seems to take a strong liking to you. You thought Suga was just like any other cat you happened to meet in therapy. You realise how wrong you were when he reveals his true self to you in order to do everything he can to prevent anything hurting you ever again.

Pairing- Reader (Y/N) x Suga [or is it… :)) ]

Genre - Shapeshifter!BTS & magic AU

Warning- multiple possible triggers; Mental disorders talked about and portrayed (depression, anxiety , suicidal thoughts and acts) abuse . near death . plus possibly more . If you are uncertain if you can read, privately message me about what you wish to avoid and I'll tell you if the story contains it.

Protection Squad Masterlist

Shelter Layout

Despite having enjoyed yourself at the session, you told your mum off for booking you an appointment and refused to return. You thought about Hobi and the silver-haired cat a few times over the next couple of days but a walk to the shops allowed you to meet other cats wandering the pathways and visits to the local park introduced dogs on walks with their owners into your life so you soon stopped thinking about the animals.

It wasn't until two weeks later when you were sat on a blanket in a new park you had recently found, reading a book did the shelter animals come back to mind, well, lap.

You jolted as a dog pounced on your crossed legs and made himself comfortable as his tail wagged excitedly. You looked down to see a familiar animal looking up at you expectantly. You looked around, looking for his owner but found no-one around, it was after all midevening and most people would be eating dinner. "Where's your owner, buddy?" You asked softly before placing down your book, careful not to lose your place, to find the tag on his collar. "Wait, Hobi?" You gasped once you read the name. He barked once and moved around as if he was dancing with joy that you finally said his name and recognised him. "What're you doing here?" Once again, you looked around but still, no-one showed. "I guess I should get you back to the shelter, it's pretty close, right?" He barked. "I'll take that as a yes." Hobi jumped from your lap when you started to move and watched as you packed your book and water bottle back into your bag. You watched in amusement as Hobi moved off the blanket and gripped one side in his mouth, eyes lifting to meet you. With an entertained smile, you picked up the other end and he instantly plodded over to you. You giggled and accepted the side, folding the blanket in half. You turned it, allowing Hobi to take the side and once again bring it to you. Once it was small enough, you put it in your bag and Hobi picked up your backpack in his mouth gently. "You know that's mine right?" He made a noise at you before turning and walking away. You followed and soon you were walking alongside the dog.

It took just under twenty minutes to walk to the shelter and the whole way, Hobi carried your bag in his mouth earning strangers you passed by to compliment you on your incredibly well behaved and trained pup. You were too awkward to tell them that he wasn't actually yours and this was only the second time you had met him.

Upon entering the shelter, Hobi walked straight to the open section at the unmanned reception desk. Hesitantly, you followed him, especially as he looked back over his shoulder at you and waited for you to make the move after him. He lead you past the therapy room to a staircase that lead to an apartment that had the door wide open.

"Hobi!" The same receptionist as before exclaimed seeing the dog waltzing in from where she stood in the long hallway. "Where did you get to this time?" Slowly, her head lifted and she took in your figure stood awkwardly in the doorway, not sure what to do with yourself. "Oh, Y/N." She greeted with a surprised yet welcoming smile. "What brings you here?"

"Uh, Hobi was at the park, I thought I should bring him back." You explained and her smile widened.

"Ah, I see! Thank you!" She gave Hobi a knowing look before pretending to be upset with him. "What have I told you about walking off like that, Hobi?" He backed up and ducked his head, as if ashamed. "Nevermind, what's done is done, give Y/N her bag back and go join your brothers in the dining room, tell them we have a guest." She gave Hobi another almost secretive look before he put down the bag and ran off further down the hallway. You could see a set of stairs at the end of the hall and realised that there was another storey to the apartment. You were surprised you didn't notice that from the outside.

Suddenly, a small, pale creature with massively oversized ears came barrelling out of the room Hobi disappeared into and headed your way at full speed. You jostled at the sight and the woman noticed.

"V!" She hissed and the creature skidded to a stop and looked up. "What do you think you're doing? Is that any way to treat a guest?" The creature whimpered backwards, lowering its head. "Be kind to Y/N, you don't want to scare off a new friend, do you?" For a second, you could've sworn the little animal shook his head as if he understood human speech clearly. You rubbed your eyes and put it down to the previous night's slumber being more damaged than you initially thought. "Would you mind if V approached you?" You looked up realising the woman was then addressing you. "He won't hurt you. He is just very sociable and excited when it comes to meeting new people."

"Uh..." You looked down at the animal that was looking up at you with big, round, pleading eyes. "O-Okay." You agreed. V jumped forward making you flinch but he quickly calmed and walked carefully over to you. He sniffed around your ankles, circling you once before sitting directly in front of you. Once again, he looked up at you with big, round eye but this time, he was waiting for something else. "Does...does he want to be petted?" You asked, glancing up at the woman for only a second before returning your gaze to the animal. V's fluffy tail thumped the floor and you realised he was much like a dog, even if you weren't certain if he actually was one.

"He does love both attention and affection." She laughed softly. You nodded and slowly crouched down to cautiously pet the animal's head. His eyes closed and he titled into your touch, shuffling closer to nuzzle your leg while your hand moved to his side.

"He's cute." You commented, earning V to jump up onto your knees and press his front paws on your chest to nuzzle your jaw affectionately. You giggled. "What kind of animal is he? He acts like a dog but...he's not, is he?" You looked at the woman who shook her head, that same warm smile still lifting her features.

"He's a Fennec Fox." You hummed in acknowledgement while looking back to the fox that had decided to nestle his head into your hoodie pocket.

"I've never met a Fennec Fox before."

"They're classed as exotic pets." You nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Oh I just realised, I've never told you who I am!" She laughed and you looked up at her, realising she was right. "My name is Molly, I own and run the shelter."

"Oh!" You held V carefully to make sure he didn't fall as you stood up. "I wasn't aware you own it."

"For years." You tilted your head slightly, Molly surely couldn't be that old based on her physical features but maybe she was just one of those women blessed with eternally young skin. "You have a calming touch," she noted, motioning down to V who had managed to crawl into your pocket finally, his head just poking out enough to be seen while remaining far enough inside that he could rest on the material and shut his eyes without falling. "He's never calmed so quickly on a new person, let alone fallen asleep on someone just before dinner time."

"He's probably just really tired." You reasoned. "And my hoodie lining is really soft and warm. I doubt it's anything to do with me."

"Hm, I disagree." She giggled. You could only smile. "Well it seems as if V has no intention of letting you leave our home anytime soon so how do you feel about staying for dinner?"

"Uh..."

"There's plenty of food and we love having guests, Suga already likes you and he's the hardest to please."

"Suga?"

"Oh, the Birman that didn't leave your side during the session." It took you a minute to understand what exactly she was talking about but then you remembered the silver-haired cat that followed you around the room lazily when you got up to greet another animal or grab a toy for one of them. Birman was the cat's breed you realised and you let your lips turn up into a smile.

"I liked him, he made me feel special." You confessed.

"You must be indeed, Suga has never acted like that with anyone but me and that even took me weeks to build such a bond with him." She laughed. "You certainly are special, Y/N, I knew it from the moment I first met you." You blushed but found yourself unable to form a response so looked down shyly. "Anyway, dinner?"

"I'm a fussy eater."

"I made a range, I'm sure there will be something to your tastes." You looked hesitant so Molly offered you a comforting smile. "I know you have anxieties, Y/N and you have trouble with new circumstances but you will not overcome your problems if you don't face them." When you didn't respond for a few seconds as you were busy mentally weighing up the pros and cons of staying, Molly took a few steps closer to reach out and place her hand on your lower arm. "I'll go into the dining room and if you decide to join us, just come on in, I'll set up a space for you."

You watched Molly disappear into the room down the hall and you almost turned and left, your hands already reaching into your pocket to remove V but then for some reason, an image of a fluffy silver cat popped into your mind and you shut the door. Your feet took you through the apartment and next thing you knew you were stood just inside of the dining room. For some reason, your eyes landed straight on the cat from your memories. He looked over and instantly jumped down from his space on the windowsill to saunter over and weave between your ankles, rubbing against you affectionately. A smile lifted your lips and you crouched to stroke him. The second you were low enough, he hissed at your jumper and the next second, V was scampering out from your pocket and across the room. "Ah, be nice, Suga." You scolded automatically. Suga looked up at you, what looked like a hint of betrayal flashing in his eyes before walking tot he table. He sat next to one of the many empty chairs and it was only then that you noticed that two young men were sat up at the table with Molly. "Oh." You flushed noticing their eyes on you.

"Come sit, Y/N, I think Suga has picked a seat for you." Molly giggled. You nodded and shuffled over to sit on the chair Suga was tucked against. He curled up around your feet on the floor under the table out of sight. "These are two of my tenants." Molly introduced, motioning to the males who both smiled warmly at you. "Jimin and Jungkook." You only smiled at them, unable to try and form words of greeting. They didn't seem bothered and simply looked over at the doorway, almost in perfect sync. Curiously, you looked over too to find a large dog entering the room.

"You're late, Monie." Molly scolded. Monie looked at Molly instead of staring at you and trudged over to nuzzle her in apology. "Monie is a wolfdog." She stated and you took in the animal before you. You could certainly see wolf features but had never heard of the breed. "Sometimes they're called hybrids but wolfdog is the most commonly used term."

"I used to love wolves." You commented offhandedly and Molly smiled. "I still think they're beautiful." You added as an afterthought while watching Monie walk around the table out of the sight. You heard excited barking and tilted your head, not having expected the sound from such a rough looking dog.

"That was Hobi," Molly announced as if reading your mind. Your features relaxed and you smiled lightly.

"Where's Little Prince?" Jungkook questioned with a grin.

"In his hidey hole, didn't you see?" Jimin replied with a giggle. You noticed his hand moving around his lap and he would glance down now and then but you didn't question it. You only hoped he wasn't doing anything inappropriate at the dinner table.

"Oh." Jungkook jumped up and rushed tot he corner to crouch down. You didn't see what he was doing but heard him whispering before he returned upright and turned, a creature you easily recognised in his hands. "Meet our new friend, Little Prince." He cooed and you could've sworn the hedgehog glared but quickly little, dark eyes turned on you and they sparkled in the light.

"Are all these animals yours?" You asked, in awe at the variety of pets Molly kept.

"Well, I look after them, I don't own them," Molly answered easily, reaching her hands out across the table. Jungkook carefully handed over Little Prince who Molly cradled affectionately on her lap. "They all came to me at times of need and I instantly grew attached and vowed to protect them." You nodded in understanding and looked over when you saw something pale pop up from Jimin's lap. It was a pair of big ears with playful eyes in between. Relief washed through your body when you realised that Jimin had been petted V and not something else.

"I think there needs to be more people in the world like you." The words left your lips without you realising but you didn't take them back. You genuinely believed your words.

"Do you look after any animals?" Jimin enquired and you shook your head.

"I live with my parents and they're not really animal people. I've wanted to adopt a cat for years but they've never let me." You pouted and for some reason, the two boys opposite you grinned. Molly reached over from her space to your left, a chair left in between you thanks to Suga.

"You're always welcome to come to the shelter and play with Suga." She offered kindly.

"Really?" Your face lit up. "Can I really?"

"Of course." A bark echoed through the room and she laughed softly. "And Hobi too of course."

"Of course." You beamed and looked down towards Suga but he was still tucked out of sight. "Thank you, I'd really love that."

"Do you have a job?" Jimin asked. You looked up and shook your head. "Noona, what about Y/N take that position?" He suggested looking over at the older woman. You followed his attention curiously, wondering what he was talking about.

"I was thinking the same thing little Jiminie." Molly smiled, eyes still on you. You felt odd under her gaze as if she was seeing deep within you and revealing anything about your person and past to herself. But strangely enough, it wasn't entirely uncomfortable just, odd. "Would you like to work for me, Y/n?" Your eyes bulged and the three laughed at your reaction.

"Are you serious?" She nodded. "You don't even know me. I have no experience. I don't know if I'd be any good here. What if the other animals don't like me?"

"Suga likes you." Jungkook giggled. "Everyone here will love you, Y/N."

"I'll pay you well above minimum wage and benefits can be discussed," Molly said, leaning her chin on her palm as her elbow pressed against the table top. "What kind of benefits would you be looking for? What do I need to offer you to get you to accept the job, Y/N?"

"I-I...none." You licked your lips and glanced across at the two males, finding V's eyes still glued to you as if he was waiting for something. Your attention turned back to Molly. "I don't need any benefits, spending time here would be enough for me."

"Are you accepting the job?" Jimin sounded a little too excited considering he had just met you but you found his joy contagious. A smile lifted your lips as you nodded. Jimin and Jungkook both grinned at you and you felt Suga's tail wrap around your ankle.

I hope you guys are liking this new story! Feedback is always appreciated greatly!

~Chee

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starlightkeybright · 7 years

Text

more persona 5 writings cuz this game has ruined me

i call this one “the plan” or alternately, “this is it”

Akechi was coming to the cafe more often, claiming it was the one place where he could relax and not worry about something like his image or the fact the public was disliking him for what he's said about the phantom thieves. Akira was cautious of him from the beginning, in the back of his mind was their encounter at the tv station when Akechi mentioned pancakes. the ace detective was hiding something, something big, that much was obvious. but then...Akira was curious. too curious for his own good. watching Akechi on tv versus him being here in the cafe was different, which made sense, to have a "tv personality" and all. but it was an...interesting kind of different. Akira made sure to help around the cafe pretty often, making coffee under Sojiro's guidance, or simply washing dishes and cleaning around the place. Sojiro commented on how he was getting better with his coffee, so he wondered...

one evening Akira came back to the cafe after spending the day with Yusuke to find Akechi in the cafe, again. or more "as usual" at this point, he was almost always here. Akechi sat close to the door, so he noticed Akira step in immediately, flashing him a smile and saying "welcome home." Akira felt Morgana shift in his bag and meow out some small comment, but he didn't hear it. instead he grinned back at Akechi and replied "honey, i'm home." this time Akira heard Morgana's muffled groan from the bag. instead of any real reaction though, Akechi just commented "you're home awfully late.i've just been here enjoying some coffee. this cafe is really a good place for me to relax." Akira did his best to hide his pout, but he just nodded. wasn't the first time Akechi said that. "well, i should be going then." Akechi went to stand up from his seat when Akira blurted out, "i wouldn't mind if you stayed a little longer." the detective paused halfway into his standing and looked at him, clear confusion on his face. "oh?" Akira nodded. "you're the one that said we should talk more often, you said you liked talking with me. why leave now?" Akechi seemed still there in his half movement for quite some time, and then slowly settled back down in his seat, flashing another one of his smiles. "very well, i guess i'm in no hurry to leave." Akira nodded, stepping further into the cafe and commenting to boss that he was going to change and help him out.

Akira went upstairs to put his bag down and let Morgana out, going straight to his storage box to grab his "work" clothes. Morgana sat in his usual spot on the table watching him. "i thought you wanted to make some more lock picks tonight," he commented, pausing to lick his paw and rub his face. "you're getting good at it too." "i was," Akira simply said, pulling out the apron and other clothes, giving them a shake and inspecting for wrinkles. "but i changed my mind." Morgana huffed, shifting slightly in his spot. "fine, i guess you can make more tomorrow and we already have a few to work with. what's your plan here, by the way? don't think i haven't noticed, i do live here with you, you know." "i don't have a plan, i'm just helping out in the cafe. maybe i can make more curry for us, i need the practice." Akira folded the clothes over his arm and went to the stairs to head to the bathroom to change. the cat huffed again, twisting around to lick a spot on his lower back. "liar," he muttered between licks.

the rest of the evening went smoothly enough, Akira did his usual chores around the shop and spoke from time to time to Akechi, the two making small talk mostly. Akechi did bring up the phantom thieves a couple times, but Akira gave his usual answers to his questions. it seemed like to him a typical high school student would support them, and he knew other students did from his eavesdropping at school. finally, Akechi was the last customer. Akira washed the last of the dishes and he couldn't help but smile at himself, and his heartbeat seemed just a little bit faster, a little bit harder. geez, how old am i? "i'm going out to get cigarettes." Akira paused and glanced back at Sojiro, standing near the counter and rubbing his neck and shoulder. "just finish cleaning up. hell, i might just go straight home after, so if i do, you better close up the shop once this guy leaves." perfect. Akira gave one his simple nods and Sojiro stepped out, leaving the two of them alone. "well, in that case i might as well leave now." Akechi rose from his seat. this is it. "hey," Akira turned off the water and grabbed the nearby towel to dry his hands, turning to face him. "would you mind...staying a little bit longer?" Akechi stood there staring at him, he was sure that the detective was getting suspicious at this point. "it's late, and the last train is going to be leaving soon, i'd rather not walk all the way home." "of course not," Akira chuckled, putting the towel back. "but i wanted to talk with you in private. i know the cafe is empty now, but i'd prefer if we went upstairs." Akira could practically see the gears turning in Akechi's head, weighing out the pros and cons of this offer. "upstairs? as in your room?" "yes." in the silence that followed, Akira felt something rub against his leg, but he didn't look, he knew it was Morgana. the cat was clearly trying to question him about this offer. "very well, as long as it doesn't take too long then." Akira couldn't hide his grin. "follow me." he went upstairs, with Morgana following closely behind and Akechi keeping his distance. he's so defensive. Akira stepped over to his storage box to grab his casual clothes, even though right now he's usually change into his sleepwear. "just wait up here while i go change really quick." Akechi slowly stepped past him, glancing around the room. despite the fact it was an attic, Akira did do his best to keep it clean, and decorate it with fun little things his various friends gave him. his favorite had to honestly be the star stickers he put on the ceiling beams he got from Yusuke. it was so cheesy and cute. "don't take too long," Akechi commented, still gazing around the room. Akira headed back downstairs, and he knew Morgana was following him. this time when he stepped into the bathroom, the cat slipped inside with him. "ok, seriously, what is this?" Morgana quietly hissed. he didn't blame the cat for being confused and concerned. "it's fine, i promise." he pulled off the apron and folded it up, putting it aside. Morgana huffed, turning away to stare at the door, and Akira thought he could see the cat facing the general direction of the stairs and glaring. "can you do me a favor and go check on Futaba for me while i do this?" Morgana made some sort of weird sound similar to a squeak and his tail waved around almost angrily. "you want me to leave you alone with him?" "yes. please, i'm going to be fine, i swear. remember what we talked about before, with him and you? he's suspicious enough as it is." Morgana sighed, hanging his head. "i-but-ok fine, but i'll be circling around the cafe and coming straight back if i'm worried or if it's been a long time." Akira finished changing, grabbing up his work clothes. "thanks, Morgana."

with Morgana gone, Akira found himself suddenly nervous. honestly, he didn't have a solid plan or idea of what he was going to do, but... he just wanted so desperately to be alone with Akechi for once, without his friends around. as much as he loved them, he did honestly want to speak more with Akechi alone. despite the suspicions and everything he's been saying about the phantom thieves, he just...couldn't help himself. Akira went back upstairs and found Akechi standing in between his desk and bed, looking over the desk and the different tools curiously. he took a deep breath before stepping over, stopping just close enough so Akechi was pretty much trapped where he was. he could of course just shove Akira out of the way or go over the bed if needed, but cutting him off from an immediate escape was the idea. "wood carving." Akechi jumped and looked over, clearly was lost in thought and didn't notice Akira come in. "pardon?" Akira nodded over at the desk. "wood carving," he repeated. "i've been trying to take up different hobbies, gotta do something in my spare time, right?" "oh," Akechi looked back over at the desk. "how interesting, i didn't think a high school student would be so interested in such a thing. may i see some of your work?" Akira laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "they're not that great, i just started so they're still just...lumps of wood." Akechi chuckled. "well, i hope you can show me some finished works in the future. so, what did you want to discuss?" this is it. Akira licked his lips, wondering where he should even start. he decided to go straight into it. "why are you so interested in me?" the detective took a step back, though the wall was close behind him now, and he looked very surprised. "pardon?" "i'm just another boring high school student," Akira shrugged, slowly taking a few steps forward. "i do well enough in school, but i have a dumb record and i live in an attic. why does my opinion matter so much to you? why do you like to talk to me so much?" Akira could clearly see that Akechi noticed by now, how he was trapped, and he could see the gears spinning faster in his head. "n-no real reason, it just has to do with that tv show recording. you had an interesting opinion and we've run into each other a few times since, so..." "you mean when i said 'fuck the police?'" Akira chuckled, stepping in closer, barely now a foot away from him. "you're the one always talking about 'bonds' and 'connections' and 'fate'. it just makes me wonder..." "wonder what?" Akechi muttered, now backed up against the wall. Akira couldn't help but stare at him at this point, they were so close, inches by now. he studied Akechi's face carefully, he could see how uneasy and on guard he was. he couldn't blame the detective for being so defensive. Akira slowly reached over and brushed aside a few strands of Akechi's hair. the detective flinched, raising an arm up and stopping halfway. he probably was about to smack Akira's hand away, and Akira wondered for a second if he had taken any self defense courses. "does the little ace detective have a little crush?" Akira muttered teasingly, taking one final step closer to him and smirking. they couldn't be any closer at this point, not without being flush against each other, though Akira liked the thought of that. Akechi was silent and gulped, his face flushing with a hint of red. his arms were bent against his chest, he could just shove Akira away easily at some point now. "a-a crush? d-don't be ridiculous, i'm too...busy to be dealing with something as simple as crushes." Akira snorted and snickered. "too important and too much of a celebrity to crush on someone else? i'm having a hard time believing that." Akechi glared at him but Akira couldn't take it seriously with how much he could see that the detective was blushing. being this close finally...so many thoughts were running through his head... Akira finally couldn't take it anymore, moving his hands so he was cupping Akechi's face with one and moving the other to the back of his head. the detective flinched again and opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late, Akira didn't care. he leaned in and finally closed the gap between them, closing his eyes and gently kissing Akechi on the lips. immediately sparks flew. in both body and mind, something had triggered in Akira, and out of many thoughts that raced through his head, one stood out. this feels right. it took Akira a second to realize Akechi just froze up, but just as he was about to lean back, he felt Akechi slowly relax. he meant for it to be small, but now that it happened, he wanted more. Akira slowly deepened the kiss, first just testing to see how Akechi reacted. when the detective started to make return movements and slowly placing his hands on Akira's shoulder, Akira grinned. they simply did that for who knows how long, 5 minutes, 30 minutes? probably not nearly that long, but it felt like it. Akira moved his hand through Akechi's hair, moved his other hand down to his side to rest there. while Akechi slowly moves his arms up, wrapping around Akira's neck and running one gloved hand through his hair. finally they stopped and pulled away from each other, catching their breath. Akira gazed over Akechi, taking in his features with his slightly glazed over eyes and flushed cheeks with no-longer-neat hair. more. Akira’s mind screamed at him, but this time he wouldn't listen, as tempting as it was. he moved one hand up to push up his glasses since they went down slightly from their previous actions. Akechi caught his movement and his eyes slowly focused, coming back to reality. "this is why you wanted to speak to me privately?" Akechi muttered, lowering his arms. "yeah," Akira grinned, taking his time to remove his hand from the other's hair. "you're not the only one interested in another boy." Akechi laughed, short and simple but it made Akira's heart flutter. "i can tell that now." they stood there in silence for a little while, wanting to say and do more but both unsure of where even to begin. Akechi suddenly gasped, making Akira jump. "oh no," he muttered, digging through his pockets to pull out his cell phone, the screen lighting up in the small space between them. "it's really late, i should get going." Akira frowned but he knew he couldn't argue for the other to stay. first of all, how would Sojiro react? besides, the both of them had school tomorrow and Morgana would soon bother Akira about going to bed to get enough sleep. he stepped away to finally let the detective free, Akechi heading straight for the stairs. Akira looked over just as Akechi stopped before the first step, looking back at him. "i guess i did find my go to cafe after all," Akechi smiled, descending the staircase. "see you later." Akira now felt his own face flush and his heart fluttered, he smiled back and nodded.

once Akira closed up shop for good, Sojiro would kill me if i didn't lock the door, and changed into his sleepwear, Morgana appeared. "so, what happened? how did it go? get any information?" Morgana jumped onto the bed to sit next to him and peered at him curiously. so that's what he thinks, huh? Akira shook his head. "he didn't say much, outside of his usual sayings." the cat huffed, tail whipping around angrily. "what i figured would happen. he's way too defensive and definitely not an easy one to crack. but we'll get more answers someday. oh, and Futaba was looking into some stuff, but she was so focused she ignored all my questions. i think she has things handled though, she did pass out at one point though. that's when i left and came back here." Akira nodded and yawned. "yeah, it's pretty late, we should get some sleep." Morgana stood up and jumped off the bed. Akira moved back and laid down, grabbing the blanket and covering himself up. Morgana jumped back up to take his spot at the foot of the bed and Akira quickly heard the cat quietly snoring. he looked up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. Morgana had no idea of what actually happened earlier. he slowly licked his lips, swearing he could still faintly taste the coffee that Akechi had been drinking. can't wait for more of that, he grinned to himself and slowly closed his eyes, drifting to sleep.

#i have lots of thoughts and emotions about this game #is that clear yet lmao #i plan for at least one more dkjfgd #i'm gunna actually save these now i wasn't before

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dust2dust34 · 8 years

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Pieces of Always: November 2021 (FICoN ‘verse)

Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows.

by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34

Summary: A parent/teacher conference with Jules' teacher doesn't go entirely as Felicity expects.

An ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. (You do not need to have read FiCoN to enjoy this, but it will spoil the end. Please see the first installment for additional author notes. Thank you @jsevick and @alizziebyanyothername for the amazing beta!)

A/N: Please see the first chapter for an important Author’s Note, as well as under the cut for an additional one.

A/N: I am taking a beta role for right now. The effervescent @so-caffeinated is fully in the driver’s seat and she’s kicking all the ass, so please go send her your love!

(read on AO3)

November 2012 - Schooling

After six months of weighing the pros and cons, Oliver and Felicity had settled on public school for their girls, but that hadn’t happened without a whole lot of debate.

Oliver’s experiences at Starling City Prep alone had been enough to make him wary. The sheer number of classmates whose parents had wound up on his list was a definite indicator that something was wrong there that standardized tests could never measure. They’d toured a few private schools anyhow, all of them more than happy to welcome the Queen family and the Queen money. But, looking around, the demographic had been so incredibly narrow. Felicity hadn’t seen the awards on the walls or the state of the art equipment. All she’d seen were the kids. She felt like she was watching children of Stepford wives and she couldn’t, for all their money, imagine Jules fitting in here.

Security had been the biggest factor in seriously considering private school, something she’s taken even more seriously since local party leadership had approached Oliver about running for the soon-to-be vacated state representative seat. He still says he’s not sure if he’ll do it, but she is. She knows her husband. He’ll run. She’s kind of surprised he hasn’t reached that conclusion himself yet, but he’ll get there.

They’re very high profile, will be even more so when he runs for office, and they both worry about the media hounding their kids. They’re a curiosity to the public and they know it. And, the press has proven time and again that they don’t care about boundaries.

So, they’d gone back and forth as he trained in the lair or when she managed to get away from the office to meet him for lunch. Neither one of them had been certain on what to do until one day Felicity had sighed and said “Oliver, if public schools aren’t safe enough for our girls, what are we even doing in this lair? You don’t save a city by removing yourself from it.”

And that had done it.

They’d registered Jules at Three Oaks Elementary the next day and - in the first year and a half Jules has gone there - Felicity’s only complaint has been the lack of any oaks whatsoever on the premises.

Honestly, it’s a highly misleading name.

There have been a few incidents she and Oliver have been called in for, but it’s mostly been due to Jules, not the school. Their little girl has something of a temper and there’s been the occasional playground tussle that’s left one kid or another in tears - usually not her. When she gets angry, she lashes out and when she gets hurt, she shuts down. The older Jules gets, the more of herself Felicity sees in the little girl. Or, the way she used to be, anyhow, before she’d learned the hard way that she wasn’t doing herself any favors. Some nights she lies awake, trying to figure out a way to help Jules grow up without making the same mistakes she did. All she gets for her effort is frustration, though.

“She’ll find her own way, honey. Get some sleep,” Oliver tells her on a regular basis, his voice only half awake as he curls his arm around her and pulls her closer, pressing his lips to her hair.

It soothes her, but she can’t help worrying, wanting better for her daughter. Maybe that’s just what being a mother is. Maybe she’ll always want more for her children, want things to be easier, happier for them.

There haven’t been any midday calls about behavior so far this year, though, so maybe things are improving. She’s anxious to see what Jules’ teachers have to say at the parent-teacher conference today.

“Where’s Ellie?” Jules asks, exiting the front doors of the school and looking around like maybe the three-year-old is about to pop out of the bushes or something. It’s not an unfair thought, really. Ellie is absurdly active, hiding and climbing and running absolutely everywhere. What they’d been thinking when they’d bought a four-story brownstone to raise their children in, Felicity can’t remember at this point, but those stairs have surely given her calves she’s insanely proud of after running up and down them to the girls’ rooms umpteen times a day.

It’s gonna be a whole lot harder in the next few months.

Her stomach rolls as if on cue and she pushes back a wave of nausea. She’s only two months along with her newest pregnancy and they’ve told no one yet, but that’s getting harder and harder with a morning sickness that’s really an all-day sickness.

“She’s with Grandma Donna,” Felicity tells the little girl, trying to force herself to feel centered. It sort of works. Jules doesn’t notice. The six-year-old just shifts slightly, adjusting the frayed strap of her backpack. She’d refused to get a new one this year and had kept her battered Priscilla the Pirate Princess bag from kindergarten. “I have a meeting with your teachers today, remember?”

“Oh yeah…” Jules says, her brow furrowing a little. Some days Felicity would give anything to read her little girl’s thoughts, but even as a first-grader Jules keeps things to herself. It’s not that she’s quiet, exactly, but she’s something of a closed book at times and getting her to share what she’s feeling is like pulling teeth. “Am I going too?”

“No,” Felicity tells her, taking the little girl’s hand as they walk back into the school against the crush of kids pouring out. It’s like fighting to go upstream against a huge school - Ha! School… that’s appropriate - of minnows. “We’re meeting Digg and Sara on the playground. He and I are taking turns with our conferences and watching you two.”

“Okay,” Jules agrees. She leaves it at that. She and Sara get along just fine, but they aren’t especially close in spite of how much time they spend with each other. It had surprised Felicity, really, and disappointed her a bit, not that she’d ever tell Jules that. But Sara is an interactive and imaginative extrovert while Jules is happier playing hopscotch by herself or drawing with chalk than playing make-believe with Sara.

“How was school?” Felicity asks as the throng of children gives way to an empty hallway.

“Fine,” Jules tells her. It’s a standard reply and Felicity bites back a sigh because would a little detail kill her?

“What did you do today?” she prods, giving the girl a nudge.

“Played on the playground,” the little girl supplies.

Long conversations with Lyla and her own mother have assured her that this is every child ever’s response to what they did in school and it’s not just Jules being tight-lipped.

“And I had art lit,” Jules adds, surprising her and pulling her attention. “I liked that,” she follows up in a near whisper.

It’s a huge admission from Jules. For as loud as she can be sometimes, for how brash she comes off, it’s the quiet things she says that are the most meaningful.

“Art lit?” Felicity asks.

“Yeah,” Jules agrees. She bites her lip and looks up with a little half shrug. “Art literacy. We learn about lots of artists and paint and stuff. I like it. It’s fun.”

Two ‘I like it’ declarations from Jules in as many minutes is fairly unprecedented and Felicity can sense how important that is, but she’s so thrown by it that she doesn’t immediately know how to respond beyond a, “Good… that’s great.”

There’s an uneasiness about Jules, and Felicity lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her, tugging her closer instead of answering in words. Jules never looks up when she does this, but she does lean in closer, like she wants the affection but doesn’t want to admit to wanting it. That only makes Felicity want to hold onto her more, but she knows this little girl so very well and she’s well aware that holding on too tight will only mean Jules pulls away harder.

“Christmas and Hanukkah are right around the corner,” she points out after a minute. “Art supplies might make a nice gift to ask for.”

“That’d be nice,” Jules agrees, looking up almost shyly. “Maybe Santa could bring me an easel?”

Yes… yes, he absolutely will. Felicity’s decided this before the words are even finished passing through Jules’ lips. Her daughter doesn’t ask for much, never begs for candy or toys. When she does express wanting something, it’s exactly like this - an almost embarrassed request, like she doesn’t like admitting to wanting anything.

“I bet the elves could manage that,” Felicity reassures her.

Jules’ cheeks turn a pleased, ruddy hue as she bites back a smile. Her skin is so fair and her hair so dark that it stands out brightly in contrast. She’s so very beautiful when she’s happy and Felicity finds herself taking a mental snapshot of the way she smiles at her toes. It’s such a rare moment to see that kind of unabashed joy on her little girl’s face and she’s going to savor it for all it’s worth.

A lot. It’s worth a lot.

Despite slowing her gait to lengthen the moment, they reach the doors to the playground soon enough and she can already see Digg playing with Sara, both of them making their way across the monkey bars. It’s ridiculous. Even with his legs bent, Digg’s knees nearly brush the ground.

“You’re gonna break that thing,” she shouts over to him. He lets go with one hand to wave at her.

“It’s okay,” he counters. “You’ll just buy the school a new one.”

She would, but she’d really rather not highlight exactly how much money she and Oliver have donated to inner city schools this past year. A lot. It’s a lot, even to them. She doesn’t regret it in the least, but it’s incredibly hard to stay anonymous.

“How’s it going, Jules?” Digg calls over.

“Fine,” Jules responds - back to her customary answer - as she starts towards the swings.

“Hold up, little miss,” Felicity announces, hands on her hips as Jules stops and looks at her expectantly. “Don’t I get a hug or anything?”

Jules smiles, shakes her head like she’s humoring her mother and runs back for a quick hug. Or, at least she means for it to be quick. But Felicity holds on tightly and kisses the top of the little girl’s head.

“Mom,” Jules laughs with a long-suffering sigh. Felicity lets her go and she scurries off toward the playground, calling out hello to Sara and tossing her bookbag onto the mulch-covered ground before climbing up onto a swing and pumping her legs.

“Have fun, Julie-bug,” Felicity calls out before checking her watch and looking to Digg. “Fifteen minutes?”

“Take your time,” Digg tells her, which is code for ‘we both know sometimes meetings about Jules run long.’ “We’ve got half an hour before my meeting.”

Felicity breathes a sigh of relief at that and blows Jules a kiss before turning and walking into the building. If someone had told her eight years ago how thoroughly intertwined her life would get with the handsome man who lied so terribly as he asked for her help and his quiet, hulking bodyguard, she’s pretty sure she’d have laughed in their face. But from parent-teacher conferences to infiltrating organized crime conferences, she, Digg and Oliver have each other’s backs in every possible way. Others have been added to the mix of Team Arrow since then, of course, chiefly Lyla and Roy, but the core of the team remains as solid and unchanged as ever. She’s so intensely grateful for that some days that it astounds her.

Making her way into Mr. Clarke’s classroom, she’s practically assaulted by a blinding splash of primary colors. It makes her eyes hurt and her head spin a bit, but she knows enough to brace for it by now. Kindergarten had been much the same. She’d expected that. What she hadn’t expected, however, is more than one teacher greeting her.

“Hi…” she says in a long, drawn out word as the two teachers stand and smile, gesturing for her to come in.

“Mrs. Queen, come in,” Mr. Clarke says.

“Felicity, please,” she corrects, as she does every single time. She will always be proud to be a Queen, to be Oliver’s wife, but if there’s one place she doesn’t want all the weight that comes with her last name, it’s here. In this space, she’s not a CEO, not the mayor’s daughter-in-law, she’s just Jules’ mother.

“Felicity,” he amends, but he still looks at her like he knows she’s the reason the computer labs have all new machines. “This is Mrs. Perrins. She’s our art teacher here. You may not have met her before.”

“No,” Felicity agrees, putting down her purse and shaking the woman’s hand. “It’s good to meet you. Jules was just telling me how much she enjoys art class.”

“Oh, no, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Queen,” the art teacher says. Felicity bites back a sigh at the losing battle for the use of her first name. “Your daughter is an absolute delight.”

That has Felicity pausing mid-handshake. Jules is a whole lot of things and Felicity loves her little girl with her whole heart, but she’s not certain she’s ever had anyone refer to her as a ‘delight’ before.

“Thank you,” she manages, through her surprise.

“I wanted to be here at this meeting because I just had to ask you where you had her studying art,” Mrs. Perrins says.

Felicity’s thrown off kilter by this because... what? Her eyes shift from Mrs. Perrins to Mr. Clarke and back again. Both of them look at her expectantly and she fumbles as she responds with a fantastically ineloquent “What?” Her brain really hasn’t gotten beyond that word, yet.

“Her grasp is so far beyond the fundamentals,” Mrs. Perrins expands, flooring Felicity a bit more. “Obviously she’s in a position to be exposed to some tremendous art” - Felicity can practically feel her smile tighten in place because this woman is saying ‘you have money and I know it’ even if that’s not what she’s saying - “but her instruction has obviously been so very effective and I have one or two other students who might benefit from some extra art instruction outside of school. I’d like to recommend whomever her other teacher is.”

“That’s not…” Felicity starts, flustered and starting to feel a babble coming on. “There isn’t one. She takes dance and she went to daycare at my office, but she’s not… we’ve never had her in an art class. I haven’t even taken her to an art museum. Should I take her to an art museum? Is that a thing you do with six-year-olds?”

With the way Mrs. Perrins’ eyes bug out, you’d have thought Felicity had told her they were funding an effort to rebuild the school out of cheese or something.

“I beg your pardon?” the art teacher asks.

“She’s never been in an art class,” Felicity says again, looking between the two instructors. “She’s good?”

“Mrs. Queen…” Mrs. Perrins says, shaking her head a bit. “She’s a great deal more than ‘good.’”

“...Really?” Felicity asks, because this isn’t sinking in. Jules isn’t much for coloring. It’s usually been Ellie who’s presented them with scribbles for the fridge. If her daughter is some kind of art prodigy, isn’t that something she should have known?

“We’ve been studying a different artist every week,” Mrs Perrins tells her. “Discussing their styles and what makes them noteworthy. Then I have the children try to emulate their approach to art. Most of them can grasp use of shapes or color, to some extent. Jules is lightyears beyond them. She hones in on brush strokes and patterns and shading. And she can explain why she’s doing it! She is, by far, the most gifted art student I have ever taught.”

Felicity is pretty sure she looks a bit like a fish, standing there slack jawed and blinking at the teachers. What a wonderful impression she’s making.

“She’s six.” It’s the only thought that’s clear in her head.

“Imagine, with the right instruction and practice, what she’ll be like by sixteen,” Mrs. Perrins adds in astonishment. “I brought some examples of her best work, if you’d care to see?”

“God, yes, of course,” Felicity replies, flustered and suddenly desperate for this extra glimpse into her little girl’s life.

Admittedly, Felicity knows very little about art. It’s never been her interest, but her life these days means she’s attended enough charity events to be able to identify a few of the more well known artist’s works on sight. Mrs. Perrins narrates for her why each painting is exceptional, but Felicity tunes her out almost entirely.

She doesn’t need to hear that. She sees it.

Jules isn’t just good. She’s incredible.

She’s still young, of course, and that shows, too. But Felicity can look at these paintings and she can see which ones are modeled after Picasso, Degas, Monet, van Gogh, Klimt… When the teacher’s words register dimly, moments after they were spoken, she can see more details, too. The way Jules used shading here or blended her own colors there, the use of perspective and focal points, the technique. She seems to have grabbed the basics of so effortlessly.

“Jules did these?”

She probably interrupted the teacher, but she can’t even hear the words coming out of the other woman’s mouth. She’s just so astonished, so impressed.

“She did,” Mrs. Perrins nods, looking incredibly pleased. A surge of tremendous pride washes over Felicity as she looks back down at the piece in her hand, a self-portrait in the style of Frida Kahlo. “Mrs. Queen… I can’t overemphasize how incredible her work is for someone of her age. Her grasp of the basics is so very impressive. If she has the time, I’d like to work with her some after school a few days a week.”

Felicity’s nodding before she even realizes she’s doing it. “She has dance twice a week but if she wants to, I think that’s a great idea. She’s obviously doing well under your instruction and she likes working with you… I’ll e-mail you and we’ll work out the details.”

The rest of the meeting passes in a blur. They talk about other things, socialization being the biggest problem, which comes as no surprise at all. She’s doing well at math, but lags in reading. She doesn’t always follow the rules and often doesn’t finish her class assignments on time. But, Felicity knew all that and she finds herself staring at the pile of paintings in her hands more than listening to Mr. Clarke.

It takes a moment for her to realize he’s stopped talking and she looks up somewhat bashfully to find him smiling at her.

“I’m so sorry,” she scrambles, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I swear I care very, very much about all of Jules’ schooling, I just… I didn’t expect…”

“To be told your daughter is an exceptionally gifted art prodigy,” he finishes for her. “Yes, I imagine that would be something of a shock.”

“It’s just… she barely even colors at home,” Felicity says.

Mr. Clarke opens his mouth to say something but shuts it just as quickly with a soft sigh and a quiet smile. Felicity has the distinct feeling that he’s holding something back and she’s not about to let that stand.

“If you’re not saying something because I’m big bad Mrs. Queen, please, please don’t,” she near begs. “I swear I’m only scary in the boardroom… or occasionally with my mother-in-law. I’m just Jules’ mom and I promise that whatever you want to say, I want to hear it.”

He recalculates right in front of her eyes and for the first time since she stepped into his class, she finds she feels like she’s just another parent to him. Thank god.

“Jules is more reserved than most kids,” he tells her. “There’s nothing wrong with that, but she’s obviously not comfortable expressing herself. She’s a private person, even with you. She is in class, too. I’m not surprised to hear she loves art and dance, but I’m also not surprised that she doesn’t often share it. She’s the kind of person who craves approval, but hates to admit she wants it.”

Yes… that sounds very much like her little girl.

“I think she’d benefit a lot from hearing how impressed you are with her art. I think she needs to hear that a lot about any way she chooses to express herself,” he elaborates. “It doesn’t come easily to her.”

“Of course,” Felicity says, nodding hard in agreement as his words soak in. “Thank you. Sometimes it’s hard… she acts like she doesn’t care…”

“She does,” Mr. Clarke assures her. “I think your approval means more to her than anything else in the whole world. That’s why she’s so scared to ask for it.”

“But I’ve never…” Worry floods through her again for the millionth time. She knows, logically, that Jules can’t remember how bad her mother’s postpartum depression was after she’d been born. She can’t possibly recall how gutted Felicity had been to realize she’d been secretly hoping her daughter would be Ellie, just born earlier, and how very inadequate she felt in the face of motherhood, how much she’d believed Jules deserved someone better than her as a mom. Those first few months were so very hard, but that’s all it had been - a few months. Well before Jules had even been crawling, things improved dramatically.

Still… she can’t help but fear that her own initial distance from her daughter had created the foundation for her little girl’s often closed-off nature. “Has she said anything? Does she think I’m not proud of her? That she doesn’t have my approval?”

“No,” Mr. Clarke counters. “No, this isn’t you. It’s just part of who Jules is. She’s a wonderful little girl. Really, she is. And while she’s a bit behind in some areas of class, I have no doubt she’ll catch up. But she’s not someone who shows vulnerability easily. It scares her. And she needs your support and encouragement even when she acts like it doesn’t matter.”

A sense of resolve works its way through Felicity’s body and she finds herself standing, extending her free hand to the teacher and shaking firmly.

“Mr. Clarke… thank you.” She hopes there’s enough emphasis in her voice to convince him she means it. “I appreciate your candor very much. Now, I think we’ve gone over time and I’m sure you have another parent waiting outside… and I need to go remind my daughter how very proud of her I am.”

He nods approvingly. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Mrs. Queen.”

“Please, call me Felicity,” she asks again.

“Not likely to happen, Mrs. Queen,” he smiles.

She huffs and shakes her head as she walks out of the room. A mom she doesn’t recognize hovers outside the door - she was right, she’d been holding Mr. Clarke up from his next meeting - but she barely offers an apologetic glance. She’s too entranced by her little girl’s art for much more than that.

It’s beyond her. That’s the crazy thing. She looks at it and it’s pretty… she can see the effort, the emotion put into it, the dedication. But this is something she could never do, can scarcely even understand. Her idea of art is a string of beautifully written code.

Luckily, her feet know the way to the playground by heart and she winds up there without thinking about it. Pushing through the doors, she finally looks up from the art in her hand to glance around. It’s a gorgeous day, cold but clear. Sara’s found a pair of twin brothers to play with, the three of them kicking a ball around the field. Jules is playing hopscotch off to the side. Digg leans up against the wall next to the door, watching them both.

“Sorry, that got kind of long,” Felicity apologizes, wincing as he gives her an amused smile.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he replies dryly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Felicity responds, looking over at Jules, then down to the papers in her hand before meeting Digg’s eyes again. “Turns out my daughter’s a genius.”

“Well of course she is,” Digg grins broadly. “She’s your kid, Felicity.”

She bumps his shoulder good-naturedly with hers. He’s like a brick wall, though, and she sort of rebounds off of him and has to catch herself. He doesn’t even bother to try to hide his laugh at that.

Rude.

“I’ve got the girls,” she tells him. “Your meeting is in like thirty seconds or something, isn’t it?”

“More like five minutes, but you’re right. I should get going,” Digg agrees. “I’ll just go say goodbye to Sara. Be back in a bit.”

Felicity hums in agreement and gives a little wave as he walks off toward the field where his daughter’s playing. For her part, she’s drawn to Jules. The six year old bends down, scoops up the rock she’s been using for her game and stands back up, ready to toss it again when she spots her mother.

“Hi, Momma,” she says. “Are you all done with your meeting?”

She looks nervous, like she’s expecting to be told something’s wrong or she’s not good enough, and for the life of her Felicity can’t understand where this comes from with her little girl, but she wishes more than anything else in the world that she could make her more secure.

“All done,” Felicity replies, smiling back at the girl. “And do you know what I found out?”

“What?” Jules asks, wariness and tension taking over her tiny frame. God, she looks so much like Oliver sometimes. More like she remembers him back when they first met than he is now, but the likeness is uncanny, in spite of the fact that she physically looks a great deal more like her mother.

“That you… are a pretty awesome kid,” Felicity tells her glibly. “But, I told Mr. Clarke I already knew that.”

Jules raises both eyebrows and cocks her head to the side in a disbelieving look that’s pure Thea Queen shining through, but like when her Aunt Thea does it, Felicity can see the happiness beneath it.

“C’mere a second. Sit with me?” Felicity requests as she tilts her head toward a nearby park bench. Jules drops the rock and follows. She sits immediately by her mother’s side, but Felicity hauls the little girl up onto her lap instead. That’ll be a whole lot harder to do in the near future, but her pregnancy is nowhere near showing and Felicity is going to relish the presence of an actual lap while she still has one.

“I’m not a baby,” Jules protests, even as she leans into her mother more.

“Nonsense,” Felicity replies, wrapping an arm around Jules’ tiny body and kissing her soundly on the cheek with a loud pop. “You’re my baby.”

“Mom,” Jules half-groans, half-laughs, wiping at her cheek.

“It’s true,” Felicity tells her, glancing briefly toward Sara to make sure she’s still happily occupied. “And you know what else I found out about my baby today?”

“That she’s almost seven and too big for sitting on your lap at school?” Jules challenges.

So much sass with this girl, good lord. She can practically hear Oliver making his opinion known about which side of the family tree that came from. Frankly, he doesn’t give Thea enough credit in Felicity’s opinion. The Dearden genes are strong with both of their girls.

“No,” Felicity replies primly. “I definitely did not learn that yet.”

“Don’t you think you should?” Jules deadpans.

“Hush, you,” Felicity chastises lightly. “We’re having a moment here.”

“Fine, sorry,” Jules replies. It doesn’t escape Felicity in the least that her daughter is all talk. If anything, the little girl’s leaning more heavily against her and there’s absolutely no mistaking the happy pink glow to her cheeks. “Go on.”

“Thank you,” Felicity tells her. “So today, I learned that you are even more amazing than I thought you were.”

Jules snorts in disbelief.

“It’s true,” Felicity tells her.

“Okay, Momma,” Jules rolls her eyes.

“No, really,” Felicity insists. “So, check this out.” She holds up the art in her free hand and Jules’ whole demeanor changes. The good-natured, easy-going thing they’d had quickly shifts and her little girl is a bundle of anxiety and nerves. “You - my friend - are a really, really incredible budding artist.”

Jules gulps, bites her lip and scarcely glances up at her mother before her eyes drop back down to the paintings.

“It’s… it’s just painting,” she says after a moment.

And, oh, it’s painful how much this means to her. Felicity can see it all over her daughter’s face, but for whatever reason, the girl has such a hard time believing it when others see the best in her.

“Honey… this isn’t just art,” Felicity tells her. “At least, not to me.”

That catches Jules’ attention, probably because it shifts the focus off of her and she’s only ever comfortable being in the spotlight when it’s about something she doesn’t take seriously.

“What is it to you?” she ventures. Those big, ice-blue eyes of hers project every last thing she’s feeling and there’s no guessing how big this split second in time is for the two of them. Felicity knows to the depth of her soul that she needs to make this moment count, for both of them.

“It’s you,” she tells Jules. “That’s why it’s amazing, because you are. And that’s why I love it, because I love you.”

She pauses as she sees the cracks in Jules’ facade. There’s a tiny triumph that wells up inside her at the idea that this is actually getting through to her little girl, but she’s not done yet.

“I can see how hard you worked on these, how much focus and dedication you put into them,” Felicity tells her. “And it’s amazing. It’s better than I could do.”

“Momma…” Jules says in disbelief.

“It’s true,” Felicity tells her firmly. And she means it. Jules must recognize that because her face turns thoughtful again and those cracks in her demeanor start to widen into chasms. “Jules, you put so much of yourself in these paintings, into your dancing... It’s beautiful to see. I really love it. I think it’s brave.”

That perks Jules’ interest further. She looks like she’s weighing the truth of her mother’s words. Felicity can’t remember the last time Jules took anything at face value and it doesn’t surprise her that this is no different.

“Daddy’s brave,” she declares. “And Uncle Digg. This is just some paint.”

“There’s all kinds of bravery,” Felicity tells her, glancing around quickly to make sure no one else is nearby. “It isn’t always jumping off of rooftops. Sometimes bravery is just letting people see who you are on the inside. That’s what you did here. That’s what you do when you dance. And I love that about you, Jules. I love how much of yourself you give to your work, even when it’s hard, even when it’s scary. I think that’s something very special about you.”

Jules flushes at that and presses her cheek against her mother’s shoulder. It’s a cuddle. It’s an actual cuddle from her older daughter. Felicity sets the art down next to her on the bench and wraps both arms around her little girl, letting her eyes slip shut as she rests her cheek atop Jules’ head. She has never been a cuddler, never been much for open affection at all. Felicity can still remember the sinking feeling of disappointment when Jules had been three and advised her she really didn’t like doing the cocoon, that she’d rather fall asleep in her own bed ‘like a big girl.’

“She’s not Ellie, honey,” Oliver had told her softly after they’d bid Jules goodnight and headed back to their own bedroom.

And she’d known that. She had, but she’d also never been prepared for how different her daughters would be - she hadn’t understood - and her expectations had fallen flat more than once.

Ellie has always been so openly affectionate, so very loving. The difference in their demeanors has left Felicity wondering, in her darkest moments, if her older daughter even likes her at all.

But this… oh, this is different. This steals her breath and makes her want to hold on with everything she has.

“Thanks, Momma,” Jules mutters against her collarbone in an almost unheard voice that’s muffled by her coat. “Love you, too.”

Felicity’s throat clogs and tears well up in her eyes as her fingers sift through the girl’s silky straight dark hair. Without even thinking about it, she finds she’s rocking them slightly, the way Ellie had liked when she was just a baby, but had so rarely soothed Jules. The little girl - and she is still a little girl, though she tries to act so big and so strong - tucks her legs up, her whole body finding the security and warmth of her mother’s lap, and her fingers curl into the edge of Felicity’s coat, like she’s holding on because she wants to.

It would be impossible for Felicity to be more grateful that she’d taken the afternoon off of work for a parent-teacher conference.

But the moment ends - as moments do - when Jules pulls back and offers up the softest smile imaginable. It feels like the most fragile and tentative of bonds forms right there and Felicity wants to grab onto it with both hands and handle it as gently as possible for fear of destroying it.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jules tells her. “If I draw some with the chalk… would you maybe want to see it?”

“Absolutely,” Felicity tells her emphatically without even thinking about it. Something lights up in Jules’ eyes at both the speed and decisiveness of her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Okay,” Jules says, sliding off of her mother’s lap and smiling before running over to grab some chalk and sitting cross-legged with an intense look of concentration on her beautiful little face.

She could watch this forever, Felicity realizes. She could soak in this brilliant, quietly happy look lighting up her little girl’s eyes for the rest of her life and be so very happy about it.

It’s so entrancing, so absolutely captivating that she doesn’t even register Digg’s back until his hand sets down on her shoulder. She jolts, looks up at him in surprise and wipes just beneath her eye with the back of her hand. It comes back dry, but she knows that’s just timing. A few moments ago, it wouldn’t have.

“Everything good?” Digg asks, concern plays out across his face as he takes in the sight of no doubt red-rimmed eyes.

Her eyes dart back to her daughter and Jules shoots her an honest to god smile. Felicity finds herself grinning back in return.

“No, actually,” she replies, looking up to Digg. “Everything’s absolutely perfect.”

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse, so go send some love to @so-caffeinated!

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #forever is composed of nows #ficon #pieces of always #oliver queen #felicity smoak #julianna queen #arrow #arrow fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #my fics: cowritten #so-caffeinated #dust2dust34

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runlabbit · 7 years

Text

Anchor & Hope

White silky fog crawled above and between the mountains of the Marin headlands—the visual is still vivid in my mind even 3 months after running my first 100-miler at the Headlands Hundred. I watched the fog in admiration as I hiked the uphill portion. I wanted to move swiftly like the fog but somewhere after mile 65, my legs decided to go on strike while my mind still wanted to move forward. In contrast to my miserable state, the scenery around me was delightful, featuring a salmon pink sky and spectacular hues. It all seemed so surreal—by this gorgeous landscape, that I am somewhere around 85 miles into this 100-mile race, and that I might be able to finish my first 100-miler (that I regret to say that I didn’t train for.)

Looking back a week before the Headlands Hundred, I heard from a teammate of mine that the race had become a qualifier for the Western States Endurance Run. Another 100 mile race in Southern Oregon, Pine to Palm, had been cancelled due to wild fire in the area and was supposed to take place on the same day as the Headlands Hundred. So the Headlands became the alternate qualifier at the last minute. I was supposed to run Miwok 100k (another WSER qualifier) earlier in the year but a month before the race, my self-diagnosed piriformis syndrome became so debilitating that I had to take a break from running. It took me 2 months to recover enough to run. It was a hard blow as I had to miss all my spring goal races. I contemplated signing up for the Headlands Hundred and went over the pros and cons in my head. Needless to say, the cons weighed more than the pros since my training regimen at the time was nowhere close to someone training for a 100-miler. It was also the busiest time at my work since we have 2 large annual shows that take place in October, on top of a few other new projects.

Ever since I paced my ultra-idol and inspiration, Sky, to her win of the Great New York 100 mile in 2013, I knew I wanted to run a 100 miler sometime in the future. All these years, I have felt like I could not train enough to run, whether it would be because of an 80-hour work-week, grad school, a cross-country move or an adjustment to a new place. The other part of me was really afraid to take on this challenge. Ironically, the more I talked myself out of running this, the more I could not let go of this opportunity. First, I asked my work if I could take the weekend off and fortunately I got the green light. I started to believe that all the stars were aligned for me to run. I questioned a few of my teammates and friends who had run a 100 miler. Everyone said that it would be very tough (probably thought I was a little nuts, too) but no one discouraged me from signing up. They shared their experience with me and sweet Andy even shared her Excel-formatted race plan and planning-list. I, on the other hand, had no race plan. My goal for this race was to earn a WSER qualifier which required that I finish the race and contribute to our team points. My teammate, John Gieng, graciously signed me up exactly a week before the race, on the last day of sign-up. My Japanese running teammate, Yaz, graciously offered to pace me at the last loop (mi 75-100). I was concerned whether I could even get to mile 75 but I figured it would be a good idea to have a pacer since I didn’t plan to have any crew. I also didn’t have all the gear I needed for the race and bought a few pairs of shoes and a hydration pack online (which is not advisable to do since you should only be using gear that you are already comfortable with on the race day.) I only used one item out of all the purchases because they didn’t fit me right. Another good reason not to sign up for a 100 miler the week before.

At the start with my teammates. Photo credit: Jay Boncodin

Uneasiness took over my enthusiasm on the morning of the race. I could not dismiss the thought that I was making a grave mistake. Taking the team picture and seeing all my teammates and familiar faces at the start helped ease my worries. All these years, I had wanted to try but didn’t think I was ready or good enough to run 100 miles. But the ideal timing for a 100 miler may never come if I wait for those perfect training conditions. The race started like any other trail race I’ve ever run. People chit-chatting casually while going up the coastal trail, the first long climb. The day was overcast and the fog covered much of our first loop. Twisting fog and the misty mountain all seemed to reflect my consciousness. The Headlands Hundred is comprised of 4 big 25-mile long loops. You alternate and switch the direction of the loop every 25 miles at the Rodeo Beach aid station. I made a conscious effort to slow down on my first loop but I was still running faster than I should. It took me around 5 hrs just for my first loop. I was hoping to run around 6 hrs so it was way faster than I had planned to go. Rookie mistake. Part of the problem was that I did not train to run a 100 miler so I never practiced the pace I should be running for this distance. I still felt very good so I reminded myself to slow down and kept going. I came up to my teammate Enrique on the downhill leading to Rodeo Beach and he asked me how I was doing. I said I was doing fine at the moment but I wouldn’t know how I would feel the second or third time around. I came to find out that his ankle was hurting and he might have to quit early. I told him that I would see him again and not to push on his injured ankle. The stretch after the downhill portion of Bobcat trail seemed to take forever perhaps due to that stretch being the only portion of the course where you are not running up or downhill. I did not stop too long on my first stop at Rodeo Beach as I didn’t feel the need to change my shirt or anything. I grabbed a few gels and blocks from my bag and off I went on the second loop.

First or second loop. Still smiling! Photo credit: Chasqui Runner

I was alternating walking and running on the uphill portion. Every so often, I saw Steven and Andy running very well and effortlessly. Some of my teammates were cruising their way down Bobcat while I was going up. I saw Megan, Pen, and Janeth. They all looked great and strong coming down the hill. Seeing familiar faces really lifted my mood and reminded me that we are all in this together. Even If I were hurting later in the race, it would not be just me going through a rough patch. The second loop was slower and sunnier but I was still running most of the time except for a long uphill stretch. I was more relaxed on the second loop and took in the spectacle of the coastal trail and ocean view. It was a loop course but I never got tired of the loop because the terrain varied and the trails looked so different depending on the time of the day and light. As I approached the Rodeo Beach Aid station from the opposite direction, my legs were noticeably fatigued and heavier. This was expected since I was approaching the 50 mile mark, the half way point. I decided to take a longer break at the aid station. I saw Jack and Kelly who came to support and pace. Kelly asked me if she could help with my drop bag but my foggy brain couldn’t explain to her what I needed out of the bag. She also asked me if I needed a pacer for my third lap. I almost said “yes” but Enrique, who was hurting, could use a pacer more than I could. We decided that it would be best if she paced him. I didn’t want to sit down because I was afraid that I may not be able to get up. I forced myself to leave the aid station so I didn’t get too comfortable with all the great companionship around me. After all, darkness and solitude was waiting for me on my third loop.

Stuffing my face at Rodeo Beach aid station while Jack talks to me (^^;) Photo credit: Yu-yen Mo

I knew the third would be the toughest loop since the sun would be going down. My guess proved to be right. I brought headphones for distraction on this part since I had a full loop before I would meet my pacer at the 75 mi point. My friend Kate, who was in the 75 mi race, and her pacer blew past me on the first uphill. I was amazed at her brisk pace going uphill at this point in the race. They were also talking enthusiastically which made me think that she would have a great finish (which she did…2nd place woman!) I saw Enrique running from the opposite direction heading to Rodeo Beach on my way to the Tennessee Valley station so I told him that Kelly was ready to pace him at Rodeo Beach. I was still hopeful that he might continue if he picked up a pacer. My heavy legs were still cooperating with me until a little after I passed the Tennessee Valley aid station. The sun was going down and while I could still see without lights I decided to get ready and searched for my headlamp and handheld light. When I turned on my headlamp, only a small red light would come up. I pressed a few times to see if the normal light would turn on, but it would not. Later on I found out that it just needed new batteries, which I had in my pack, but exhaustion was taking its toll at that point and I decided just to use my handheld light. Another rookie mistake. My eyes were not used to running in the dark and the little light source was insufficient to run on a pitch-dark coastal trail where one side is a cliff and there are stairs you have to run up and down. Many runners passed me as soon as the sun went down. They all looked strong and fresh while I was barely moving. Later I found out most of the runners I saw on this 3rd loop were marathoners who had started at night. At that point the feeling in my legs turned from heavy to excruciating pain. More runners passed me and I was basically going at a walking pace. Navigating at night proved to be very challenging for me and I was feeling defeated. Nevertheless, even in the darkest night, pulling out of the race was out of the question for me. I thought about what Sky said while I paced her at night in the TNGY 100 miles. She was not feeling well but would tell me that “Even if I have to walk 50 more miles I can still finish”. Well she ended up not walking that much and won this race twice in incredible time and with a huge smile, but this stuck with me and became my mantra. She has been a huge inspiration for me to pursue unknown territories, which for me is 50 miles and longer distances. To this date, I am forever thankful to her and many of my friends for giving me inspirations to go further than I could ever imagine.

Elevation chart of the Headlands Hundred. Not exactly a flat course (^^;)

I took a little detour on my way to the Fort Baker aid station but I only went about a mile more so it was pretty good considering my proven record of getting lost while racing. As I got closer to the Fort Baker station, I saw more people and it was a welcome sight after what seemed like 15 or more miles of running in the lonely darkness. A lot of people asked me if I had a pacer and if I was doing ok on that loop. Their concerned faces told me that I appeared to be in pretty bad shape. I told people that I was doing fine. Saying that sort of tricked me into believing that everything would be ok. I was way behind my scheduled arrival time at Rodeo Beach (1-2am) and I still had a long way to get to the aid station. I felt bad for my pacer who had to wait for a long time in the cold. Around this time my emotional state had turned from uneasiness to serenity. I still felt a throbbing pain in my legs, and the race was not going the way I wanted to go, but I had still managed to find peace of mind in the middle of this strange affair. Scott Jurek had said in his autobiography Eat & Run, “But the longer and farther I ran, the more I realized that what I was often chasing was a state of mind - a place where worries that seemed monumental melted away, where the beauty and timelessness of the universe, of the present moment, came into sharp focus.” This quote really summed up my emotional shift in the race.

After 75mi. Slightly? exhausted(^^;) Photo credit: Yasushi Saito

My third loop took 8 hrs to finish, 3 hrs more than my first loop. I arrived at the Rodeo Beach station and met up with my pacer, Yaz. He had a chair ready for me and gave me coffee which was helpful for me to stay awake. I was grateful that he had waited for this long since he probably got to Rodeo Beach way earlier than he needed. Having a pacer in a long 100 mile race makes a huge difference. He had a very bright headlamp so that made it easier for me to navigate. On the flatter portion, I felt like I was running but he seemed to be walking a lot. Miles passed faster than before and I was getting hungry. Yaz was impressed that I had any appetite this late in the race. To my defense I had forgotten to eat on my third loop because I was so concerned about my footing. When the sun finally appeared, it was a welcome sight and I was happy to run without a light. The sky displayed the entire spectrum of color: deep orange, pale pink, and light blue. Fog was still present like the day before but it looked more compact, silky, and simmering. Seeing this memorable sunrise with the fog crawling between mountains and the sun-kissed sky gave me hope. Miwok trail leading to the Muir Beach aid station was another stunning area of the headlands surrounded by tree-covered mountains, You could see tiny runners far ahead on the trail. Andy mentioned it on her blog as well but you feel so small compared to the vast mountains, trees, and elegance of the coast line. After the Muir Beach aid station, I tried my best to shuffle through the parts I could still jog. I knew that my little adventure was coming to an end and I wanted to give it my all within my physical limitations.

Last loop at Pirates Cove. Photo credit: Yasushi Saito

After 27 hrs and some minutes I was going down the coastal trail where I had climbed up a few times previously. My sense of time had blurred and I didn’t know how long I had been running but Yaz said that it was sometime around 10 or 11am. The tiny finish line was within my sight. I was still enveloped in fog and haze, although the sun had taken over the sky. It all seemed surreal. I heard cheering and cow bells from the finish line. That woke me up from what seemed like a long, painful dream. As I crossed the finish line, a huge weight was lifted off me and I experienced an overwhelming sense of liberation. Words cannot express my gratitude for my teammates, my pacer, all the volunteers, RD Greg and everyone who supported me along the way.

At the finish. Official time 27:26:15. I still have this huge GU Roctane mix if anyone wants it....Photo credit: Yasushi Saito

There is always a first time, for everything: the first track practice I did in high school where we had to run 12 laps around the track —I thought that was the hardest thing I had ever done. The first 5k cross country race where I scored for my team for the first time. My first marathon in pouring rain where I seriously thought the race may be cancelled. And my first 100 miler where I had conquered my own fear of failure. As someone with mediocre running talent, I have never dreamed of running this far, let alone a 100 miler. Although my plans rarely come to fruition, serendipity has been good to me. The Headlands Hundred reminded me that a path to serenity is never clear and filled with doubts and anxiety. Sometimes you need to take an unconventional path in life to see where it takes you.

___

“There is a magnificent intensity in life that comes when we are not in control but are only reacting, living, surviving. At sea I am reminded of my insignificance-of all men's insignificance. It is a wonderful feeling to be so humbled.” - Steven Callahan

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