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#queue should find another guiding light
tobyislame · 1 year
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some more ticci toby headcanons
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once again consider this a headcanon salad i'm still figuring out how to format these
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- in my canon he's from minnesota. he just feels like a minnesotan
- also in my canon he lives in a shoddy little abandoned cabin in the woods (header image is along the lines of what i think it would look like). the mansion still exists he just chooses not to reside there cus he'd much rather have his own space that he can control
- never has the big lights on in his house cus it makes him crazy. instead there's just headless lamps/lanterns/candles strewn all over
- best believe the place is messy as shit. imagine if a 16 year old boy was allowed to be a homeowner. yea pretty fucking vile right
- his place just smells like raw wood and weed you walk in it just slaps you in the face
- all of his clothes have that vague cigarette smell on them
- he smells like pinecones and wet soil (on a good day)
- thinks axe masks the fact that he hardly showers unfortunately
- also thinks just using mouthwash is the same as brushing your teeth unfortunately
- honestly he's just super shit at taking care of himself, especially since his body lacks the tools to queue him in on some stuff
- like how cipa causes him not to feel hunger. he can't recognize when he's hungry so he often goes way too long between meals
- he has a little notebook where he keeps track of when he eats. it's meant to help him know when he should eat something but he consistently forgets to keep up with it
- he just isn't equipped with any of the tools necessary to take care of himself, both physically and mentally. he's in pretty bad shape, some extra help would probably do him good
- realistically with how much he disregards self-preservation he'd be fucking dead by now so he isn't entirely helpless. he knows he's accident-prone so he keeps first aid shit with him at all times, he knows blood means bad and that he should probably stop what he's doing that is making the blood happen, he knows to scan over himself every once in a while to check for unnoticed injuries and such, etc etc.
- cus of the gaping gash in his cheek he has to eat foods that are compatible with his disfigurement. he also always has to drink through a straw
- he does not like waffles. he does like pancakes however
- interestingly those with cipa have a lower sensitivity to capsaicin so he eats spicy stuff like a fuckin CHAMP. someone gave him one of those samyang noodles to try yk the one that's hot as BALLS and he was just like "i mean yea it's good"
- he's kind of just always covered head to toe with bandages. i think he'd have an excoriation (skin picking) disorder so he HAS to keep his arms and hands wrapped up, otherwise he'll just obsessively pick/bite/gnaw at his skin
- the rest of his body is perpetually scattered with bandaids and such on account of how scraped up he gets just being himself
- on the night of The Incident he got caught up in the fire. flaring up his chest and a section of the left side of his body are burn scars. there are a conglomerate of reasons as to why toby doesn't like to have his shirt off in front of ANYBODY and that's just one of them
- his motor tics tend to be on the more violent side (throwing things, hitting himself, hitting others, etc). however, he's learned how to sort of guide his tics from being one thing to another if that makes sense? idk i'm speaking from my own experience here and tics are a really difficult thing to put into words but like. if he can tell he's about to throw the thing that's in his hand he'll take that feeling and try to turn it into something smaller, so instead of throwing the thing a less destructive tic will occur instead. if any of that made sense
- more often than not he's got an earbud in or his headphones on listening to music. he finds that it makes it much easier for him to make his way through the world. that and when he's listening to music he's noticed that he hardly ever tics (usually) so yk that's also a bonus
- spends a lot of his time climbing trees and hanging out in them. also spends a lot of his time trying to make friends with the animals of the forest. he's gotten a lot better at knowing how to approach raccoons and possums and stuff. he likes to leave food out for birds and squirrels and such
- it's funny because he tries to be this hard-ass dude but as soon as he spots a deer he becomes the most gentle thing on earth in that moment. he'd probably grab your shoulders whispering all like "oh dude deer- shhh shh" and force you to crouch with him and stuff lmao
- he's dubbed the one rabbit in those woods that isn't afraid of him "dandy warhol". yea he's real good with names
- he leaves food trails for dandy that lead to his house because he thinks that's how people get pets. he does not realize he's also leading every other animal in that forest to his home
- he may be stupid .
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Hey Sarah! I was just listening to dear reader for the first time in a while and I noticed something. There are these moments during instrumental sections at the end that sound just like when she says “Nice!” In Bejeweled. Do you think that’s an intentional callback or just a coincidence? I was thinking because the lyrics “you should find another guiding light but I shine so bright” also feel like an interesting twist on “I can still make the whole place shimmer”. I figured that you, as a dear reader lover, might have some thoughts on this?
Hi! I love this lyrical/thematic connection which I do think is intentional and is certainly core to the DNA of Midnights which is moving down similar and conflicting mental pathways - characterizing them in diametrically opposed ways. The album is full of contrasts like that (“SoTB” and “Labyrinth” + “Mastermind” and “Karma” are top of mind examples).
But the noise queue I would say is more a product of Jack than an intentional coupling. (He was probably like “this sound sounds like 💫💫💫”).
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lady-lazagna · 2 years
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I can’t remember if you like him or not but Ryuga interacting with other characters Headcanons???? 👀
Ooooh he's always an interesting one for interactions! (also yes I do like him but I'd write these for any character regardless :))
-There are two people that I think would "get along" best with Ryuga, the first being Kyoya. Kyoya matches his insane, feral energy pretty well, so while not being necessarily friendly with each other, they understand each other pretty well and could have a good amount of banter before trying to kill each other. Like, they could organise to go out and have a nice fancy dinner together at the Ritz before beating the shit out of each other in the parking lot.
-The second person I think he could get along well with (if it weren't for the trauma he'd caused to him and his loved ones) is Tsubasa. They're both far more mature and reserved (at least when they're not battling) than the rest of the crew, so if Ryuga wanted to get away from the riff raff, he could just go sit next to Tsubasa (who'd put up with him being there so long as he shuts the fuck up) and relax. Sometimes, when they're sitting alone, Tsubasa will just start quietly rambling about the sky, nature, spirituality, and all that crap. Not talking directly to Ryuga, but if he wants to stay and listen he can. Secretly, Ryuga does love the sound of Tsubasa's voice and finds it calming, and he may have accidentally fallen asleep on his shoulder on one or two occasions during his rambles.
-Kenta kind of acts like his guide to being a normal human and not a hundred-year-old king of an ancient civilisation. He helps him order food, he teaches him what to do at the post office, he tells him not to scowl at children who are literally just standing there, etc. Ryuga never asks for his help, because he'd rather die than admit he has to rely on a twelve-year-old for social queues, but he really does appreciate Kenta's help.
-Hyoma just shows up sometimes and strikes up a casual conversation with him- completely calmly, as if Ryuga hadn't destroyed his village and hospitilised his friends. Seriously, the dude showed up in a fucking volcano to ask for a hand with Tsubasa's dark power like it was a regular Tuesday! Ryuga doesn't find his strangeness off-putting, just... intriguing. Like he almost wants to get to know more about him, like, as a person? What the fuck has happened to him.
-Why the fuck won't this Ryuto kid leave him alone??? He's a descendant of Ryuga's people, great, good on him. That does not make them family, and that does not give Ryuto the right to follow him around and demand a mentorship!! He seemed to be a perfectly good blader on his own before he found Ryuga, so why the hell does he want his help??? Bitch he learned everything on his own, now you can do it too- okay, Kenta told him that that was rude, and that he should give him a chance. Fine. He'll take Ryuto to the top of a volcano and through boulders at him. If he manages that, then maybe he'll consider a mentorship.
-Ryuga is the only person that Tsubasa will let Yu get away with attacking. He doesn't care. It's not like it hurts when the little shit kicks him in the ankles with those dumbass light-up sketchers. He doesn't care that he can't retaliate because apparently Tsubasa has a license to kill. But seriously, just because he left Yu to die at the hands of that creepy snake guy? That was one time, Kenta would've gotten over it by n- OW!
But on a serious note: Every kid in Metal Bey City cowers in fear as he walks by. He can't let himself look Hikaru in the eye, lest his gaze is too intense and she breaks down again, causing yet another scene that Kenta would have to escort him away from in shame. He knows Kenta feels guilty for liking him, and for bringing him around his friends who so clearly want nothing to do with him. His shame is most apparent whenever he's with Yu, who looks at Ryuga with the utmost contempt- if he can stand to look at him at all.
"Guilt" was not a word that his brain had ever registered; it was a useless emotion that only served to hold him down. But if that was really the case, then why did his stomach tie itself in knots whenever he saw that scorned look in Gingka's usually kind eyes, the ones that had witnessed every atrocity he'd ever committed? Why, when Yu stared him down, did he feel like he was the one who's body was ensnared by a giant snake, suffocating him as he locked eyes with someone who simply refused to help?
What was a monster like him thinking, trying to find connections in these people at all? He wasn't made to be loved; he was made to be feared- that was the way it had always been, and the way it would always be.
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What about a reader that is drunk, going to do some nonsense, so both Tech and Crosshair stop her, and in the next day there’s a climate btween them? Pretty please 🥺
I wasn't sure what you meant by the last part of your request so I just let the scene play out in what felt like a natural direction, I hope that's okay! I'm happy to write something else if you'd like!
Tech & Crosshair & Reader | 1.8k words
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You tried to hold back your giggles as you gathered up as many helmets as you possibly could. This was going to be great. You couldn't believe you hadn't thought of this before, it was probably one of the best ideas you'd ever had in your life. Your whole body seemed to shake with excitement. Or maybe that was just the alcohol. Nah... you hadn't had that much to drink. This was a genuinely good, smart idea.
You stumbled out of the closet and down the hallway, dropping a few helmets along the way but not even noticing. It was like the edges of your vision were out of focus but surely that was just the dim lighting of 79's. It'd always been hard to see in here.
"What are doing?"
The voice came out of no where, even thought its owner was practically standing right in front of you. Arms crossed, scowl on his face, eyes studying you as you juggled a half dozen clone trooper helmets in your arms for seemingly no reason.
"Back off, Crosshair," you slurred, trying to push past him quickly. Why was he always in your business?
The sniper was too quick for you even on your good days. He took hold of your arm and pulled you back before you entered the main bar area, keeping you in the relative privacy of the hallway.
"Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he rephrased his question.
"It's not stealing, it's a prank," you protested, trying and failing to get your arm out of his grasp. Another helmet tumbled to the floor in the effort.
"Oh there you are," came a new voice. It was almost as if you were moving in slow motion as you tore your gaze from Crosshair and over at the newcomer.
"Tech, tell this jerk to get out of my way," you thought you said. But whatever actually came out was apparently not as understandable. Tech looked between you and Crosshair, confused.
"Um, okay. Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he asked the same question as his brother.
As if on queue, another helmet slipped out of your grasp, though you hadn't moved. At least, you didn't think you did. You huffed and ignored Tech's question, turning back to Crosshair with pleading eyes. Both men were standing between you and your chance to pull one over on the 501st, a battalion infamous for their clever pranks. And you were not going to be stopped.
"Come on Cross," you drawled. "I'm pranking the regs, you should be proud."
Even through your crazed senses, you were still able to pick up the amused twitch of his lips. But he quickly suppressed it and turned back to his usual grouchy grimace.
"Normally I would," he said, "but not like this. Not tonight."
He took a pair of helmets from you and handed them over to Tech, ignoring your whiny sounds of protest.
"He's right," said Tech, placing the helmets on the floor in the corner. "Wrecker already upset some of them tonight, I don't think they'd find this very humorous. Besides, in your drunken state..."
"I'm not drunk!" you exclaimed, probably louder than you intended judging by the flinch both men gave in response.
"Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are bloodshot," said Tech matter-of-factly.
"And I saw exactly how many drinks you had," added Crosshair.
Tech nodded at him. "Yes, we could go on, but that should be indication enough that..."
You cut him off again, this time with tears. You couldn't help it. The whine that had almost been perpetually eking out of you during this whole conversation grew into actual cries and whimpers. Before you knew it, your cheeks were wet and your lips trembled uncontrollably.
"You're both so mean, you never let me have fun, the one time I come up with a great idea and you shoot it down like I'm an idiot, it's not fair, all I wanted was to show you that I belong here with you guys, but none of you let me, you don't care about me at all, you're such fun-busters..."
You babbled on and on, only barely making any sense to the two men who'd now freed you from your armful of stolen helmets and were gently guiding you out of the bar. You clunked along between them like a baby learning to walk for the first time, unaware of where you were going or what was happening. You could only focus on your emotional speech, and then after a few minutes, your focus was redirected to the queasy feeling in your stomach.
Thankfully the boys got you back onto the Havoc and into the refresher before you spilled your guts. Crosshair held your hair back and rubbed a hand soothingly along your spine until the worst of it passed. You fell limp next to the toilet, unable to form any coherent thoughts in the aftermath.
"Come on," Crosshair said softly by your ear. He tried pulling you up, but when it was clear you weren't going to stand on your own, he picked you up altogether and carried you over the to bunks.
Tech had pulled out one of the cots, the one everyone on the ship agreed was more comfortable than the others and thus fought over the right for almost every night. He had it set up with blankets and pillows, and he stood nearby holding a bottle of water as Crosshair laid you down.
"Just small sips for now," Tech said, holding the bottle up to your lips and helping you get down a few quick swallows, enough to calm the burning in the back of your throat. You were vaguely aware of his thumbs wiping away the remnants of your earlier tantrum from your eyes.
"Fun-busters," you muttered before curling up on your side.
Tech looked over at his brother, who only rolled his eyes at your stubbornness.
"Good-night to you, too," he said just before you lost consciousness.
* * *
The next morning was... rough, to say the least. You'd been tipsy a few times in your life, but never full-on drunk, which meant you'd also never had to deal with a full-on hangover.
Your head was splitting open, you were sure of it. Every turn of your neck made you feel sick. There was a pressure behind your eyes and a lightness to your stomach. You wanted to stay in bed forever. But even more painful than your hangover symptoms were the memories of your behavior the night before, and the urge to make amends eventually propelled you to get up.
You found Tech first, fiddling with his holopad in the cockpit. He eyed you as you carefully lowered yourself in the chair next to his, keeping a hand up to shield your eyes from the rays of morning sunlight that crept through the windows.
"I'm sorry," you said in a low, raspy voice, getting right to the point. You knew Tech appreciated when people did that. He wasn't a fan of small talk and segues, not when there was clearly something important to discuss. "I was kind of a dumbass last night, wasn't I?"
Tech set down his holopad with a shrug. "You had too much to drink. You weren't in control of your mental faculties."
You smiled at his uncomplicated way of viewing things. But then came a cough from behind, from a particularly unamused sniper leaning against the doorway.
"You were a dumbass," he said just as plainly as his brother. Well, at least they were both honest, even if it was in contrast to each other.
"I'm surprised you remember," said Tech, quickly trying to move past his brother's more negative comment. "From what I've read, memory loss is common after heavy intoxication...."
You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as it made your head ring. "I don't remember a lot, just enough to be embarrassed. If I said anything nasty to either of you, I really didn't mean it, I swear. I was just...."
You trailed off, not sure what it was you were really trying to do. You'd wanted to pull a prank, but there'd been something else driving you forward, some other motive to want to do something so stupid.
"You called us fun-busters and cried because you didn't think we cared about you," said Crosshair through the customary toothpick in his mouth.
You looked at Tech, who gave you an apologetic look that confirmed his brother's words were true. You let out a little groan and slumped into the chair. A part of you was glad you didn't fully remember.
"Do you really think that?" Tech asked. "That you don't belong here?"
You shrugged. You still weren't sure about your feelings.
"I dunno... I guess, maybe sometimes... it does feel like you treat me the way you do the regs." You spoke slowly, discovering your own thoughts as you said the words. "Like I'm just along for the ride. Just a normal person who doesn't matter. I thought if I did something to them, you'd see I wasn't part of them. At least, that's what my drunk alter ego thought, anyway."
You gave another shrug and tried for a laugh but it didn't feel quite right.
Tech looked thoughtful for a moment. "You do realize most of the regs in that club were inebriated, too. But we didn't carry any of them to bed for the night."
"Or watch as they puked their guts out," added Crosshair with a slight wrinkling of his nose.
"Yes," Tech nodded at you. "We knew you've been feeling down lately, that's why Hunter suggested we all go to that bar in the first place, to give you a chance to have some fun. Crosshair and I kept an eye on you, and Hunter and Wrecker made sure those regs didn't get upset over your, ah, attempt at a prank."
Tech let his words linger for a moment as you finally raised your throbbing eyes up to meet his.
"You belong here. And we do care. We care because, well..."
He looked over at his brother and you followed his gaze. Crosshair took out his toothpick and pointed it at you.
"Because we're your family."
He put the toothpick back in his mouth with a wink and then turned to leave, showing that that was the final word on the subject. Tech looked at you with a soft smile, one that made you finally feel at peace. You hummed as you laid back against the chair and let the feeling really take hold within you.
You belonged with the Bad Batch. They were your family.
It was a very nice feeling.
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blu-joons · 4 years
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Familiar Face ~ Kim Namjoon
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“Why did you never tell me who you were?” You snapped across at him as he pulled you to one side of the corridor. “Has all this time really been a lie?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.” 
“I’m so sorry,” a voice yelled, a pair of hands grabbing at your arms to pull you up as you stumbled into the shelf of books. “Are you alright?”
You quickly pulled yourself together, straightening your dress out, looking up at the owner of the arms who had saved you from a fall. “I’m alright, are you? I really should pay more attention to where I’m going.”
He chuckled gently, passing you the book that you’d spilt as you toppled, pushing you carefully to one side as a few people tried to pass you both. Your cheeks were red as you smiled apologetically at the passers by before looking back up at your saviour.
Their eyes rolled as you silently apologised for causing a bit of scene, scoffing at the two of you as his hand continued to hold onto you as he made sure you were steady. “I’m Namjoon,” he finally spoke, introducing himself.
“Y/N.”
His brows knitted together as he heard your name, tilting his head as he tried to figure you out. “That’s not a Korean name?”
Your head nodded, although that was a pretty obvious statement about yourself. In just a short time in Seoul, you’d noticed a lot of attention from the locals as they noticed you walking around in different places.
“I’m foreign, but I’m here on a bit of gap year,” you informed him, quickly finding yourself feeling quite comfortable around him, “essentially, I’m a student who has no direction or plan of what they want to do with their life.”
A light giggle came from him as he finally dropped his arm back to his side, “I know plenty of students who have no idea what to do. Seoul’s a pretty cool place to come though to travel, how are you finding it?”
“Well,” you began, brushing a nervous hand through your hair, “it’s fair to say I have not mastered Korean at all, to be honest most of my days are a bit of a mess. I’m getting by, but it’s a struggle.”
Before you knew it, Namjoon had invited you for coffee in the café of the bookstore to try and get to know each other better. He’d convinced you he had plenty of tips on surviving life in Korea which seemed far too good to turn down, and after nearly crashing into him earlier, buying him a coffee was the least you could do. On a spare piece of paper, he wrote down several phrases that would help you in day-to-day life, answering the questions that you had about the culture and the way of life.
“What about you?” You suddenly asked once he’d finished lecturing on you on what you’d need to know. “Seeing as you know so much about me, can I get to find out about you? There must be something interesting about you with such a proficiency of English.”
His shoulders calmly shrugged, but on the inside his heart pounded. He looked around the room, spotting a group of students rushing in to grab a drink during their lunch break, pushing past each other to reach the front of the queue.
“I teach English,” he informed you, gulping as your eyes lit up. “I guess you need to have pretty good proficiency to be able to teach the language. It’s probably where my love of a good book comes from too.”
You nodded, listening intently as he began to tell you all about his day as a teacher and the students that he taught. You were very intrigued as you learnt more and more about him, as soon as you looked at him you definitely had an impression that he could be a teacher, he dressed himself well, and had a very approachable look about him.
The two of you sat and talked for a little while longer before being interrupted by the vibrations of his phone. He quickly placed his hand over it before you had the chance to look down at him, hanging up on the call and sliding his phone into the pocket of his jacket.
“Do you not need to get that?” You quizzed.
His head shook, finishing off the mug of coffee in front of him. “It’s a friend, he’s been having a bit of a crisis recently, rings me constantly. We have five other friends but for some reason he just seems a bit dependent on me.”
“I imagine as a teacher you tend to do a good job leading and guiding people,” you spoke, watching as his eyes darted to look across at you.
As soon as he realised how he’d reacted, he relaxed back in his seat, grabbing his jacket that was wrapped around the chair and slipping it on. You took that as a sign that he was heading off, finishing your drink too, picking up your pile of books.
“I should probably go and check on him, but maybe I could give you my number and we could meet up again some time,” he suggested, holding his hand out to take your phone so he could put his number into it.
You took your phone from your pocket and passed it across to him, offering your hand out for his once he’d put his number into your phone. A heavy breath came from him as he scrambled his brain quickly, knowing his phone and all the contacts he had would give his game away.
“I’ll text you from my phone, save my number that way.”
“Alright,” you chimed, unassuming of the wave of panic that rushed over him, as you led the way down to the tills so you could buy your books and head out of the store.
“Start talking,” you snapped, without a care for how loud your voice had gotten. “I can’t believe that you’d do something like this to me,” you stuttered, quickly wiping underneath your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks.
Your body pressed against the wall, sinking to the floor as Namjoon lowered himself to your height, trying to take a hold of your hands, which you quickly pulled away.
For months, the two of you had spoken since you met at the bookstore, most days you texted and called each other, telling each other about your days. For months you’d sat and listened to him tell you about his days in the classroom and the troubles he was having with coming up with work when all along he was a global superstar travelling the world.
When your friend offered you the spare ticket, she had for a band performing that night, you jumped at the chance to head to a concert and enjoy some live music. You were clueless to who the band she loved was, deciding not to do any research beforehand and enjoy them at face value at the concert. You knew they must have been something special having sold out the biggest arena in your city, as soon as you got within a couple of miles of the stadium, every street was full of fans piling towards the arena.
Even when you’d told him that night that you were heading to a concert, he remained quiet. Instead, he chose to tell you all about a school trip him and his students had been on to a local museum to look at the history of the Korean War. Whilst you told him how excited you were to try out a new band, you were clueless to the fact that he was actually just a matter of minutes away from you, and worst of all, a member of that band.
He thought he could get away with it, the arena was huge, and the chances of you being able to recognise his face from far away were slim. Having already asked the cameramen to not focus on him for the night, lying through his teeth that his face was bloated and breaking out, he thought he’d be able to win. Little was he to know that your friend had purchased tickets in the fourth row, a spot where every single face on the stage was clear as day.
As soon as his eyes landed on you, his stomach dropped. The lyrics he was supposed to sing were abandoned, his hand came down, his whole heart turned numb to your eyes staring back at him. You were conscious of your friend beside you, simply shaking your head whilst trying to stop your tears from falling.
Namjoon persevered with the concert as best as he could, aware of your quizzical eyes watching his every move as you tried to figure out what was going on. You hoped and prayed there was a mix up somewhere, maybe he had a doppelganger or a twin that coincidentally shared the same name, every possible idea that tried to make sense of the situation came to mind.
Once the concert ended, you saw a text from him on your phone asking you to head into one of the wings. You told your friend to go, making up an excuse that you had spotted another friend in the crowd that you were going to meet up, but instead you were heading backstage to confront the man that had stolen your heart, and lied his way to it.
“I was scared to tell you the truth,” he whispered, allowing you to move your hands away from him, “I know this probably makes no sense right now, but you have to understand Y/N.”
You scoffed as he tried to reason with you, struggling still to process exactly what was going on. “Why would you be scared to tell me who you were? How did you even manage to keep up this lie for so many months?”
“I don’t know.”
“When,” you stated, taking him by surprise. “When did you plan on telling me the truth, when you proposed, when we got married? You told me that you were falling in love with me Namjoon, I told you I was falling in love with you too.”
“None of this changes the way I feel about you,” he sighed, brushing his hand against the top of your head, “you’re right, I am falling in love with you.”
“But you’re falling in love with the person I said I was,” you challenged, looking across at him for the first time. “In reality, I don’t know the first thing about you right now. The man I fell in love with was a lie.”
His head quickly shook, the person he’d shown you really was him. The kind, caring, considerate guy was never a lie, he was still Namjoon, just a little bit more of a fabricated version that he hoped you’d fall in love with. The second he didn’t tell you who he was at the bookstore he regretted, there had been several times where he wanted to give up the lie and tell you who he was, but he just couldn’t.
He was in too deep.
He hated lying to you, especially when he really caught feelings for you, the more the lie tangled, the harder it was going to be to eventually untie it again. He thought he had time to piece together a way out of it, to try and soften the shock and not frighten you away.
“Don’t say that,” he whispered, moving his hand down the side of your face so that it rested against your shoulder.
You were too exhausted and emotional to fight him away, moving your hands to cover your face yet again when you felt more tears spill. “Why did you do it Namjoon?”
“Because too many people have judged me for being Namjoon the singer rather than Namjoon the man. The moment I introduced myself to you, I knew I found myself liking you, it was a moment of panic. Do you remember the students that walked in?” He asked, as your head slowly nodded. “I took one look at them and then the next thing I knew, you were under the impression I was an English teacher. It felt nice that you valued me as a person, not for my name or my career, or even my money. I liked the feeling of being appreciated for being me, it meant the world to me that you fell in love with my personality rather than the materialistic things I own.”
“Now it makes sense,” you whispered with a shaky breath, “you never wanted to show me around your house, but that’s because there’s no teacher in the world that would be able to afford your house. Or every time when I told you to send me some work to see if I could help, you didn’t, because what you actually were working on was song lyrics.”
Several people passed you both by as Namjoon tried to calm you down, shielding your body as best as he could with yours. Each time he touched you, your body tensed up, refusing to let him in fully as you slowly began to learn about who he really was.
“Sorry will never be enough to make this right,” Namjoon whispered, squeezing your shoulder gently, “I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling right now or how this looks to you. If you want to cut everything off tonight, I’d understand. But you have to believe me Y/N when I tell you the Namjoon you fell in love with, really is me. Nothing about who I am as a person in your eyes is different in real life.”
Your head slowly shook, with your head and your heart telling you two different things, you didn’t know where to look or where to go. It was safe to say you’d fallen for Namjoon, you’d spent months with him, even from afar, he’d supported you in getting yourself sorted at the end of your travelling, he’d encouraged you as you searched for a job, even helping you write your application to get into somewhere.
“Where do we go from here?” He questioned, feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you Y/N.”
You moved your hands away from your face, shuffling along the wall to make room for him to sit beside you. You didn’t even need to invite him before he filled the space, resting a cautious hand against your leg as finally your tears began to settle. You couldn’t bring yourself to hold onto him or lean into him, instead you sat motionlessly, staring against the wall of the corridor.
“Is there anything else you need to admit to, other than the fact you’re not a teacher?”
“No, that’s everything.”
“I don’t want to be lied to anymore Namjoon, if there’s something more to you, either you tell me now, or I’m gone,” you warned him.
He nodded, puffing his cheeks out, “that’s it, I promise. And I mean that promise this time, I’m not saying it just to protect you.”
You sat and listened as he vowed to be honest with you, about every single detail about his life. You were overwhelmed by the situation you found yourself in, never had you imagined seeing yourself falling in love with a global superstar, a man adored by millions of fans around the world.
“Why don’t you tell me about what you really do? Seeing as I’ve never actually heard of your group before,” you suggested. You slowly turned your body inwards so that you were facing him, choosing to keep your eyes away from his, staring down at the marbled floor as he spoke.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” he giggled, “for years now we’ve been as a group, obviously we started off in Korea, and then our music travelled, the group grew, and now we’re selling out arenas around the world. That’s the simplest way to put it.”
“And why did you actually learn English?”
“Because my family and I thought it would be a good skill to have in the future,” he informed you, “you’ll probably think it’s stupid, but I learnt it by watching Friends?”
“Really?” You exclaimed.
He nodded back at you, “I used to sit and listen to everything they said, and then eventually I could recite a few lines. It’s been useful for my job too, I can communicate with so many of our international fans, it’s probably helped us grow as we’re not just seen as another Korean music group, we’re seen as a band who can also hold an English conversation too.”
Your eyes began to search for his as he continued to give you a bit of background on him and his group. You could see the passion in his eyes and the love he had for what he did. But you could also see how difficult and terrifying his world was too, appreciating why he made the decision to keep you safe from it all. The more he spoke and opened up to you, the more you could see how hurt he was to have lied to you. It didn’t matter what he said, Namjoon was aware that nothing could justify the situation that he’d put you in, it was a place he never wanted you to be.
“If you’d have told me all of this from the start, it wouldn’t have changed things,” you pointed out to him when he finally finished talking. “I don’t judge someone on what they do or how many noughts are in their bank account.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he sighed.
“But you wouldn’t have heard it from me,” you quickly reiterated. “I’m not going to lie to you Namjoon, I’m better than that.”
It was a low blow, but one he knew he fully deserved. He’d treated you terribly, betrayed the trust that you’d put in him, and yet somehow, you were still sat and willing to listen to him talk. He began to wonder if maybe there really was a way of salvaging the mess he’d made, if perhaps you were willing to take on the real Namjoon he’d tried so hard to save you from.
“What do you want to happen to us?” He asked as his own thoughts began to run away from him. “Do you want me to go?”
Your head shook, dabbing gently underneath your cheeks. “Right now, I don’t know what I want really, but when I’ve spent six months falling for you, I can’t just see you walk away. I trust that your feelings for me were real, and I trust that now you’re starting to be honest with me.”
“I made a mistake, an enormous mistake that you’ll probably never forgive me for, but that won’t ever change the way I feel about you. I don’t want to live a lie to you anymore, and whilst I’m scared to really introduce you to my life, I promise that I’ll still love and protect you always.”
“You think I’m going to stay with you?”
“Well…I’d hoped.”
You sighed gently, “you broke me tonight Namjoon when I saw you stood on the stage. You knew I was going to be here, and I can guarantee you tried to find every way possible to make sure I didn’t find out. What hurts the most is when I needed you over the past few days, you were just down the road, within walking distance to be able to comfort and support me.”
“I couldn’t risk it, I didn’t want to break your heart by doing this, but instead that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
“I need time,” you sighed, smiling softly across at him, “I don’t want to give up on us, and I want to be able to trust in you, but that can’t happen overnight. I’ve gone from thinking I’m dating an English teacher in a Korean cram school to finding out I’m dating a Billboard winner with millions of screaming fans who chant his name night after night.”
His hand slowly reached out, intertwining his fingers in with yours. He brought your hand up to press a kiss against the back of it, wiping away the droplets of tears that had landed from your cheeks throughout the night. Your hand slowly squeezed against his as you rested your head down onto his shoulders, snuffling gently as you fought back the tears once again.
“I’ll never hurt you again,” he whispered down to you, “I promise I won’t be the guy you think I might be.”
“You’ve got one chance Namjoon, I want to learn to love the real you, no secrets, no lies, just honesty. That’s all I ever want from you.”
“There’s no more secrets, and definitely no more lies. You’ve stolen my heart and I can’t let that go, not now, not ever. I just hope you know what a crazy ride you’re in for dating me, the real me.”
“If it means being with you, I’ll ride the craziness. Just don’t break my heart, ever again, please.”
“Never again, I promise I’ll make you happy, forever.”
---
Masterlist
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freckleslikestars · 3 years
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prompt: mulder & scully at a carnival :)
Thank you so much!
Fun fact: growing up I hated going to the carnival my village held each year - it was too busy and too loud and I'd always have to be on one of the parade floats and the straw bales we had to sit on were always itchy. I don't enjoy fairground rides because I don't like heights and I get motion sick. I dreaded it every year. However, I love the concept and aesthetic of carnivals and funfairs.
1155 words, read here on AO3
‘Come on, Scully, it will be fun!’
‘Mulder, no. We’ve got an early flight in the morning and it’s been a long week. We should go back to the motel, pack our bags, and get some sleep.’
Mulder pouted, face lit by the strings of rainbow bulbs hung everywhere in the dusk, ‘y’know, we’re never going to be able to sleep with this music. You can hear it halfway across town. Just half an hour, Scully? Please?’
She sighed, rolled her eyes. If she said no he’d just dig his heels in, go alone and walk back to the motel, calling her when he got lost. And he was right, the music was obnoxiously loud.
The carnival had popped up overnight, making their missing persons case harder to work as they navigated around streets closed for the parade and sought out witnesses and suspects when the whole town had apparently been joining in with the festivities.
Ellingbrow wasn’t a big place, a small farming community in west Ohio of 2,978 residents, and every single one of them could, at one point or another throughout the day, have been found at the funfair or taking part in the parade.
‘Fine,’ she huffed, shaking her head, ‘half an hour. But only half an hour.’
In truth, part of her was relieved they weren’t going straight back to the muggy heat of their unairconditioned motel rooms, and she watched as her partner shed his jacket, swallowing thickly as he loosened his tie and undid his top buttons.
Averting her eyes and shucking off her own blazer, she tried to cool the heat in her cheeks. Briefcases and outerwear were deposited in their rental.
‘So,’ she cleared her throat, ‘what first?’
‘First, cotton candy!’ a grin split across his face, eyes lighting up as he grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the field crowded full of attractions and people, weaving in and out between laughing teenagers and drunk twenty-somethings to find the stall and join the short queue, releasing her hand.
‘You know this is pure sugar, don’t you, Mulder?’ she grinned when he handed her a stick of candy floss, accepting one for himself and handing over a couple of dollars.
‘That’s what makes it so good,’ he took a bite, looked around over the heads of others, gasping with joy, ‘there’s a ghost train over there! We’re going on it, come on!’ his hand found hers again as if it were second nature for them to be linked. If she weren’t being rushed through throngs of people by her long-legged partner, she would have taken the time to contemplate just how comfortable he seemed holding her hand.
One ghost train ride later, he was crowing with laughter and she was smiling indulgently up at him. Whilst she wouldn’t admit it on a later date, she was enjoying herself, if only through watching Mulder enjoy himself. Another thing she wouldn’t admit at a later date was how deep she was realising her feelings for her partner really went. Since the discovery and loss of her daughter, since her remission, since maybe even before her cancer diagnosis, she’d found herself falling more and more for him, and what had started as curiosity and lust had evolved to friendship, admiration and love. Time away from him was spent thinking about him. And when she was close to him, she felt it; wanted to be closer.
‘...wheel?’
‘Hmm?’ she blinked up at him, shaking herself out of her reverie.
He laughed, shook his head and nodded over to the Ferris wheel, ‘wanna see the entire town?’
She smirked as he guided her over to it, ‘that’s not exactly hard.’
‘What is it you don’t like about small-town America, Scully?’
‘Who says I don’t like small-town America?’
He smiled and shrugged, holding out the carriage door for Scully to step into, ‘it’s just something I’ve noticed over the years, you never seem happy out in the sticks. I wondered why that is.’
‘I dunno. I guess I grew up a navy brat, so we always lived in base housing that...it was like we were in this isolated community. It wasn’t bad or anything, I just...as soon as I went to college, moved to the city-proper I decided that was what I wanted, where I wanted to live. I don’t like the idea of everyone knowing you, everyone knowing your business, you know? There’s an anonymity to the city that I like.’
‘I can understand that,’ he nodded slowly.
‘So, why do you like them?’
‘I like the sense of community. The idea that there’s always someone watching out for you, always someone to lend a jug of milk or a bag of flour.’
‘You taking up baking, Mulder?’
‘No, but you know what I mean.’
Scully nodded, rested her head on his shoulder as they looked out across the lights of the town, ‘I do know what you mean. I think that’s probably a myth, though. I mean, how many towns like this have we had cases in? Terrible, horrible cases?’
‘Point taken. But then, how many more towns never have even so much as a case of joyriding.’
‘I know you, Mulder. You’d get bored, restless.’
‘Hmm, maybe. Maybe not.’
By the time they disembarked, the speakers had dropped in volume just slightly and were now playing slow, soft Elvis.
‘Dance, Scully?’
‘Why not?’ she smiled, noticing his hand already in her own, trying to remember when exactly he had taken ahold of it again.
They stood out, somewhat, dancing slowly in their suits amongst the crowds of people in denim cutoffs and flannel shirts and graphic tees. But then, when didn’t they stand out?
‘When we were kids, living in San Diego, Missy and I used to catch a bus down to the boardwalk in the evenings sometimes. We’d spend the month saving up all the loose change we could for those evenings. We’d eat fairground food and both pretend not to like it, we’d go on the Ferris wheel and hang out in the arcade. She’d find a booth to get my palm read, or my cards, whatever there was. She was into that sort of stuff.’
‘I know. She had a lot of healing crystals with her when you were returned. Where’d she pick that up from?’
Scully shrugged, laid her head against his chest, ‘I don’t know. She was always the believer. When we were kids she believed in fairies and monsters and dragons. I never did.’
‘No. No, I don’t imagine you ever did,’ he smiled and pressed his lips to her crown. ‘You know I wouldn’t want you any other way though, right?’
‘You don’t wish I believed things more readily?’
‘Sometimes, in the moment, I do. But mostly? No. No, you wouldn’t be Scully if you didn’t challenge me.’
‘Mulder?’
‘Mm?’
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For tonight. And...for everything.’
Tagging @today-in-fic
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ms-rampage · 3 years
Text
Nice to Meet You
Charles Smith x [OC] Kate Winchester (or female reader)
This is my first RDR2 writing. I've had this swimming around in my head for awhile now, and this is one my favorite ships 😁😁💕💕. This is pretty much one of the ways I would have Kate and Charles meet. My writing requests are closed for now, but I'll save your request in my queue.
Warnings: None, maybe some slight language but thats normal for my writings. Awkward Kate/Y/n? 😅😂
A/N: Feel free to insert yourself as my OC as you read on. 😁😊
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Photo of Charles isn't mine
Camping out near the Hanging Dog Ranch in Big Valley, West Elizabeth. The lavender field is such a beautiful place to set up camp, its even more beautiful with the snowy mountains from the West Grizzlies of Ambarino.
Kate always had this connection with nature. This spot is great for star gazing, and sometimes hunting. She normally didn't like hunting unless it was really necessary, such as for food, or to make a few dollars to sell some pelts for food. Being a naturalist can be difficult sometimes. You study animals, but sometimes cravings kick in, and you sometimes gotta hunt animals for food. Saloon food doesn't do it sometimes, so you gotta cook your own food.
Camping can be dangerous, even by yourself and especially if you're a woman, but for Kate she's a natural and somewhat of a veteran at camping alone, especially for her size. Being 5'4 and very easy to miss, especially when sitting or laying down, but that's why she has her guard dog Haley watching over the campsite while she's away. She's a good dog, German Shepard.
She's just relaxing, drinking some coffee as the cold West Elizabeth breeze blows past her, and that's when something startles her Missouri Fox Trotter, Lily. She somehow manages to unhitch herself, and takes off running into the wooded area nearby.
"Lily!" she exclaims dropping her cup of hot coffee to chase her horse. "Lily come back!". She sprints after her.
[Charles POV]. Normally he doesn't go this far from the gangs camp, but sometimes a good ride is good to clear your head. The areas around Strawberry is good for hunting. Getting away from the gang even for couple hours or a couple days can be a good thing.
Charles sets up his camp near the Black Bone Forest, not far from where Kate is set up, but of course he doesn't know this. Fixing up the fire as the evening sun is less than an hour away from setting. Warming up his hands as the cold weather starts to pick up, and night time will be arriving soon.
As he warms up his hands, he hears the voice of a woman calling out for someone, sounding distant but very close. He continues to warm up by the fire then a black, white tovero horse with saddle, and everything on, trots by looking a bit agitated. Putting two and two together, he figures it belongs to the woman calling out for it.
He gets up from his spot near the fire, and slowly approaches it, not wanting to startle or scare it away.
[Kate's POV]. "Lily!" she shouts, the tracks her horse had left now fading. Feeling like hours since she's been tracking her down. Normally she's really good at tracking animals, but it's close to night time and she left her lantern at her campsite. As well as her dog, hoping she doesn't get attacked by wolves, bears or cougars.
"Fuck" she sighs, "Lily!". She whistles for her, waiting for the whinny and heavy hooves of her horse, but to no avail. No sign of her. Not realizing she had chased her down a little too far. Kate is now nowhere near her campsite and is now in an area where there are dangerous predators lurking in the dark somewhat terrifying forests.
[Charles POV].
"Hey there girl" he says softly to the horse. She whinnys softly at him, digging her hoove into the dirty, not sure who he is. He continues to slowly approach her, when he gets to arms reach of her, he calms her down. "You're okay girl".
[No POV]. Patting her, Lily then calms down. He guides her towards his campsite, hitching her near Taima. 10 minutes had passed, "Lily!" the voice of the horse's owner echoes through the trees, followed by footsteps not far from Charles campsite. After another few minutes, a woman comes into view.
Charles sees her walk into view of his camp, "Ma'am is this your horse?" he asks. Relieved to see her horse is alive and well. Kate lets out a sigh of relief, "Oh fuck. Oh my God. Yes, thank you so much sir. I don't know what she saw, she just took off from her hitching spot". She unhitches her horse from the spot.
"I can escort you back to your camp" he tells her, knowing that this is O'Driscolls and Skinner brothers country. "Oh no its fine but thank you for the offer. I don't want to be a burden" she tells him.
"I insist" he tells her, "Its dark, and I don't want you to get attacked. This is a O'Driscolls and Skinner brothers area".
"Are you sure? My campsite isn't set up far" she asks, "I hope it isn't trouble?". This little lady can easily get attacked by any bandits and robbers. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't escort her, and made sure she was safe.
"I'm sure. I don't want you to get hurt" he tells her.
"Well if you insist then thank you sir". she tells him. She mounts Lily, and Charles mounts Taima. "I'm set up at the lavender field. Near the Hanging Dog Ranch" she informs him.
"Near the O'Driscolls hideout?" he asks, looking at her with a look of concern.
"There's no one at the hideout. I checked it out earlier, its empty". she replies. He escorts her to her campsite which is less than a 10 minute ride.
As they're riding, Charles gets a better glimpse at Kate's face. He knows he's seen her before but he's not sure when and where though, she's very beautiful, and also very small, short but height and size isn't really important to him. He knows she can probably hold herself in fight, but he wants to be a gentleman, and guide her to her camp.
When they reach her campsite, her dog greets with a bark of excitement and tail wagging. Kate hitches Lily. Charles gets off his horse. "Have I seen you before?" he asks her, "I feel like I've seen you before".
Kate did recognize him, but like him, she wasn't 100% sure. Getting a better look at his face and other features from the fire and a bit of light from the moonlight. He's most likely half African American and Native, he's also very handsome. "Outside the Smithfield Saloon in Valentine" she tells him, "I believe one of your friends got into a fight with Big Tommy".
He lets out a soft chuckle, and a slight smirk "I thought so. That was Arthur".
"And also in the Heartlands" she tells him, "Well you didn't see me, but I saw you with that same man... Arthur, who fought Tommy. I was studying bison, and you two were riding by. I recognized you".
"Studying bison?" he asks, intrigued by her response.
"I'm a naturalist. I study animals, and wildlife. I'm also a herbalist". she tells him, "I usual camp by myself to clear my head... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name".
"I'm Charles" he introduces himself.
"I'm Kate. It's finally nice to meet you" she was always terrible at introducing herself because she's very awkward, "But yeah, I study animals. Bison, Buffalo, cattle in general, I find very interesting... Sorry I'm just rambling on about my interests". She chuckles nervously.
"No worries. It's fine" he tells her, giving her a soft smile. Finding this woman very interesting and very attractive, also getting this strange feeling in his stomach that he has never ever gotten before, "I should be getting back to my camp now. Have I nice night, Kate".
"You too Charles, and thank you for the escort" thanking him with a smile. He hitches his horse and rides back to his camp. The whole time Kate was on his mind, even when he would try to sleep. Just something about her, her interests, and her demeanor. How sweet and down to Earth she is.
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x0401x · 3 years
Text
Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13
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Ramen Story
The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.
“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.
“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”
In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.
“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”
As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.
Now for the ramen.
Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.
We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.
Delicious.
This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.
By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.
“Hey, you got a moment?”
“As you wish. Whatever you please.”
When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”
I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.
Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...
Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”
“No way. On the contrary.”
When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.
“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”
“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”
Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.
Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”
“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”
“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”
“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”
I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.
“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”
When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.
“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I honestly did not.”
“Why?”
As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?
Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.
The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.
“Was it okay to have invited you?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”
The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.
“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.
Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?
“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”
I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.
Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.
Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.
“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”
“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”
I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.
I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.
Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”
“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”
I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.
In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.
Thank you for everything; I’m off!
71 notes · View notes
mandoalorian · 4 years
Text
Sick Day with Javi Gutierrez
DAY ELEVEN: Sick Day with Javi Gutierrez [requested by @abuttoncalledsmalls]
Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)
Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth
December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina
December Writing Challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Word count: 1.3k
Rating: PG
Warnings: descriptions of sickness
Author's note: I'm so so sorry that this is two days late. I was super stressed and so my writing has had a little bit of delay due to personal reasons. Trying to get back on top of it now though. I hope you enjoy.
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"Do you want some?" Javi asked, his mouth full, thrusting the swab of pink cotton candy in your face. You laughed, gently pushing his hand away.
"No thank you," you giggled, leaning your head on his shoulder. He leaned his head on yours, his brown curls tickling your forehead. "Javi, maybe don't eat all of that. You still want to go on the rollercoaster, don't you?" You mentioned with concern.
"I'll be okay," Javi reassured, pulling another clump of cotton candy and putting in his mouth. He moaned in delight as it melted on his tongue. "So sweet."
"You might get sick." you told him, interlocking your fingers with his as you strolled over to the arcade machines.
"I promise baby, I'll be okay," he chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Let's try to win some goodies!" he announced, padding over to one of the slot machines and beginning to place quarters in. He watched them slide and drop into the machine, pushing more quarters out. After spending a few minutes working at the machine, and approximately five dollars later, he won you a small plastic keychain.
"Hey Javi, look. It kinda looks like Paddington Bear." you smiled as Javi took the keychain from you and inspected it.
"Oh yeah, it does." he confirmed, smiling himself and running his thumb over the ridges of the plastic.
"Do you want to keep it?" you asked, knowing how much your boyfriend adored the animated bear.
"No, that's okay," Javi replied. "I won it for you."
You went to take back the keychain but Javi seemingly didn't want to give it back. He was adorable, measuring it up against his own keys to see how it would look.
"I think you should keep it." You giggled, "I already have plenty of keychains and besides, I know how much you love that movie." And Javi blushed at your sentiment. He shoved it in his pocket and wrapped his arm around you.
"Love you honey," he murmured sweetly.
"I love you too baby." you replied, nuzzling your head into his lazily buttoned floral shirt.
"Can we go to the roller coaster now? It looks like the queue has died down." Javi asked. You nodded and took his hand and headed over.
It was the biggest rollercoaster in the state, or so it was advertised like that. It was in fact enormous, with loop-da-loops and deep dips. It had high points, low points, points where it hung you upside down and points where it jolted you around. You both reached the queue just as the ride was finishing, Javi looking in awe as it fulfilled the final circuit. People clambered off it, dazed and colour drained out of their faces.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" you asked hesitantly.
Javi didn't reply, instead bolting past the ticket-man and sitting comfortably in the front seat. You paid for the ride with your tokens and slid down next to Javi. The man who ran the roller coaster, waited for everyone to be seated before clicking a button. Metal bars came down and secured you both in place. The adrenaline was racing through your body, especially when your little cart began to lift from the ground and your feet were left dangling in the air. Javi was grinning ecstatically, crinkles appearing in the corner of his brown eyes. You took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't let go of me, okay?" you smiled.
"Never." Javi promised, bringing your hand up to his lips and brushing a sweet kiss over your knuckles. The music in the theme park was blaring as the rollercoaster lift you higher and higher until eventually you were at the peak.
"Hey Javi look," you squealed. "You can see for miles up here!"
"There's the zoo!" Javi pointed. You narrowed your eyes, trying to focus on the general direction Javi was pointing in— and then, WHOOOOOSH. Yours and Javi’s cart dropped faster than the speed of light, the wind blowing through your hair and the feeling of your heart dropping into your stomach. You screamed and Javi yelled, squeezing your eyes tight shut as you felt your body fall.
You were feeling fine, much to your surprise. But it wasn't long before Javi began to feel nauseated. The strong wind pushed his head against the rubber black seat and he even hit his head against the metal bar a few times due to the sudden, jerky movements, giving him a headache. At first, he was afraid, but then he learned to love the feeling. But now, it wasn't fun anymore and Javi felt very, very sick.
"Uhm," Javier nuzzled his head into your chest and grabbed your hand even harder than before. He whispered your name, struggling to find words as his head spun.
"Javi, baby? Are you okay?" you asked before screaming as the rollercoaster took another dip.
Javi covered his eyes with his free hand. "I don't feel too good." he admitted. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and smoothed his curls out of his face.
"Oh sweetie, don't worry. I'm sure it'll be over so-" you choked out the last word and yelled as the rollercoaster held you upside down. The blood rushed to Javi's head and he let out a groan. His grip on your hand didn't falter once, despite his feeling of sickness. "How are you coping?" you shouted feeling concerned. Javi didn't reply with words, instead whining and squeezing his eyes tight shut wishing this would all be over soon.
After a minute or so, you were back on the right side of gravity and the rollercoaster was circling its final route. "Almost done I think." you reassured your boyfriend.
As the words left your lips, Javi threw up. Pink, cotton candy vomit. You gasped, your eyes flicking between Javi and his pretty floral shirt which was now not so pretty and covered in sick. "Javi." you whispered apologetically. He looked at you, his brown puppy dog eyes glazed with embarrassment. "Its okay honey, are you okay?" Javi shook his head and you scrunched up your nose from the smell.
The man stopped the ride when he saw Javi's accident, and you helped Javi climb out of the cart. You sheltered him from the crowds of people and guided him into an empty corner. "Take off your shirt." You told him.
"I- but-" Javi mumbled.
"But what?" You asked, unable to tear your gaze away from the mess he had made.
"My tummy…" he frowned. "People will see my-"
"Javi my love," you said in a soothing voice. You tucked his curls behind his ear and placed a hand on his cheek. "It's okay. It's just, do you really want to walk around the theme park covered in vomit? It's a hot summer day and people won't care if you take your shirt off. I just want you to be comfortable." you explained and Javi nodded understandingly. He began to unbutton his shirt and peel it off before discarding it in the trash. "How are you feeling now?" you asked.
"Better now that the cotton candy is out of my system," Javi chuckled. "Are you um… ashamed of me?" he questioned nervously.
"Oh of course not Javi," you replied, pressing a gentle kiss into his jaw. "I love you. It's okay, accidents happen sometimes. Come on, let's go home."
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mellie1409 · 3 years
Text
Alohomora (ft. knj) - 5.2k
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Badum badum badum
That's the only thing y/n can hear in the deep silence the dinning hall is submerged in. Her own heartbeat marking the rhythm of a frantic and desperate song. This is the moment she had so long been waiting for: the moment she would be chosen a family for her to join. A family that would take care of her and love her as one of their own and protect her at all costs for this one short year she would be spending here, at the most magical and hopeful place on planet Earth, at Hogwarts.
Y/n straigtens her back as the hat is lowered onto her head. A sudden smell to old papyrus surrounding her and becoming more intense as the weight of the hat increases on her head. And when suddenly professor McGonagall lets go of the hat, it unexpectedly starts moving.
'I see' he says turning to the left and then to the right, scanning in the process the room and all his different choices for y/n. 'Hmmm, a golden heart disguised because of fear, high expectations for the future... Interesting, well, I'll put you in a house, where they will push you to reach your full potential, to prepare you for your final decision. But before revealing it, do mark my words: the choice has already been made in your heart, by some achieved courage you'll reach your final destination.'
Those words resonate into the dining hall as if someone had fired a gun, a race gun that gives the queue for everyone to start talking at once. It was normal for the hat to mumble about someone's abilities, but to make a prophecy? That only happens when someone's life was about to take a huge turn. Which secrets is she hiding? Did it have anything to do with her far away origin?
Only when director Dumbledore stands up, does the hall fall back into a heavy, thick silence. 'Sorting hat, please do continue as we can't spend this whole starry night in here.' He speaks with his elderly voice aiming for the enchanted roof that was replicating a night sky full of stars.
'Well then! ' the hat grumbles 'Her house will be...
...Slytherin! '
This time, instead of starting applauding like they would do with every other selected kid, a thick silence covers the room like a mantle. Not even a fly can be heard as she slowly approches Slytherin's table and takes a seat next to the people of her age, the 3rd year.
She sits next to a blackhaired boy, although his hair seems to change color every few minutes by some kind of spell Y/n hasn't heard of before in her life.
As the ceremony continues, the coloured hair guy turns to her with a cheeky smile and whispers: 'Hi! I'm Jimin, nice to meet you, I'll be your guide to this castle and if you want to know how to get to a place, just let me know. I know every corridor and stair in this school' he says while winking his eye.
Y/n doesn't know how to respond after the strange encounter with the sorting hat but she just smiles back awkwardly at him as she turns around to continue watching the sorting ceremony.
The day after, they start their classes. And y/n's first class is also her favourite subject: defense against the dark arts. After breakfast at the dining hall, she takes realizes she has forgotten her pencil case at her room, so she quickly leaves her classmates behind to go grab it.
What she hadn't thought about was the fact that she did not know the school. So as soon as she tries to look for the class she is supposed to be in, she finds herself lost and wandering around corridors and rooms she doesn't know.
At a certain point she distinguishes someone at the other side of the gardens. He looks like Jimin with the colour changing hair, but when she calls his name, the figure ignores it and disappears through a different door.
It takes her 15 more minutes to find her class and by the time she comes in running, the class has already begun. As she notices Snape is writing on the board with his back to the class, she silently tries to get to her sit. That is until a voice makes her stop on her tracks: 'To what do we own the honour of you joining us in this apparently not so interesting class today, Miss y/l/n?
Freak, she thinks to herself. She chooses to remain silent as she knows it's the best choice with a teacher such as Severus Snape.
'Well I do hope that cleaning the potions room this afternoon during your free time will be more interesting than this class for you. And now please tell me, what si the first rule in defense against the dark arts? '
And like this the class starts for y/n with a punishment for being late. What a great start of the school year...
As the clock hits 5 o'clock, y/n leaves Slytherin's common room towards the potions room were Severus is waiting for her. Although when she comes in, she can't find him anywhere. She does find a howler from him there. She opens it carefully: 'MISS Y/N! As you can see, this room hasn't been cleaned since last year's trolls disaster so I expect from you to clean it and sort out all the potions alphabetically. Enjoy! ' and the howler desintegrates in a moment.
Y/n takes a deep breath, says some encouraging words to herself and starts working. She starts by taking away all the dead spiderwebs, no way she is touching the ones that are still being used as she is scared of almost all living creatures on earth.
She then continues by sorting out all the potions' ingredients she can find on the shelves: fluxweed, knottgrass, lacewig flies...
Namjoon is running around the castle like a mad man. He needs to win this game, he wasn't going to be paying next round of butter beers! So he looks frantically for it, not caring about who he was passing by or about the fact that his red and golden tie was half way undone and his shirt untugged.
As he reaches the next door he opens it and asks:' has anyone seen a... '
He doesn't gets to finish the sentence as he sees a strange scenery in front of him. A cute, although he wont admit it, and beautiful girl is sitting on the second to highest shelf of the potions' room holding on for dear life.
'... toad maybe? ' she answers silently looking terrified at the ground. As Namjoon looks down he realizes indeed, there is a toad lying on the floor, staring at the girl like it was wondering what about him was so terrifying.
'Well, well, of it isn't the prophecy girl behaving like a little squirrel right in front of me I wouldn't believe it! ' he says with a ironic voice.
'Ugh great,very witty mister toad, as if I hadn't heard that already. And you are...? '
'Namjoon, Kim Namjoon to be exact. Gryffindor member and 5th year student in Hogwarts. ' he answers quickly. 'Now I recommend you clean this up quickly as I hear your beloved professor Snape walking down this corridor. Good luck miss squirrel!! ' and like that he leaves running with the toad he had just picked up.
A creacking door, thats all it takes y/n to wake up at midnight. 'Who on earth is walking around at this hour?!' y/n thinks to herself. Without hesitating she stands up from her bed trying not to wake up her roommates in the process. She changes her clothes to more appropriate ones and takes off trying to find the source of the sound.
As she spots someone leaving the common room, she decides this is the right time for an adventure. So she takes her shoes from the rack and puts them on as quickly as the leather laces allow it.
As she slowly looks into the corridor she spots someone turning right into some ascending stairs. She follows him and carefully looks at the stairs while staying behind the wall. It's then that she can distinguish who it was thanks to the moon lighting. She holds in a gasp as she recognizes the color changing hair of Jimin, and what surprises her even more is that, there are two color changing heads! How is that possible?
She decides to find out what is going on and follows them around the castle for what seems like a pretty long time. Until they stop at the kitchen entrance to say some silent words, a password, y/n can't reach to hear. As they get into the kitchen and the door closes back up, y/n approaches the entrance and tries to listen what is going on behind the door.
'... sure no one was following you? ' a voice asks.
'Of course! Who do you think we are?! ' Jimin answers offended.
'Well, I think you guys senses must have been toned down because of the cold, because there is someone listening right behind that door! ' another voice speaks up.
The door opens so suddenly, y/n doesn't even have the chance to turn around to run away.
As she grows accustomed to the lighting of someone's candle, she starts counting the figures standing right in front of her: one, two, three... seven! There are seven of them!
'Miss Squirrel! 'Namjoon exclaims 'what are you doing here? '
'You know her?! ' someone asks.
'What are YOU doing here?! Shouldn't you guys be sleeping? ' she asks angrily after having surpassed her surprise mode.
Namjoon snorts: 'well excuse me if I didn't want to be sleeping like a lame third year student. '
'Hey!' Jimin reacts 'who are you calling... '
'Can we please focus?! We are gonna get caught if we stay here longer! ' a mint haired boy answers. Y/n recognizes him from the common room, a slytherin 5th year student. 'Miss squirrel, or whatever your name is, go back to bed, you shouldn't be here... '
'Eh excuse me, my name is y/n and no way I'm letting you guys go, in fact I think we should all go to bed or we could visit Snape if you prefer that. ' she retorts sarcastically.
It's at that moment they all hear some faint steps coming in their direction. As they all start panicking they jump into action. Someone y/n can't distinguish, grabs her wrist and sturts tugging into the opposite direction of the sound, y/n so scared she doesn't even resist.
They guide her through a small door and a dark corridor lighted only by the candle the first person is carrying. As the adrenaline rises in her blood, y/n doesn't know if what she is hearing are foot steps or her own heart beating in her ears.
The corridor seems endless, but after a left turn, a right one and a left turn again, they find themselves in front of a staircase with a door on top.
A black haired boy that seems to be the oldest instructs them to put the hoods of their capes on and then proceeds to open the door.
The cold air of the night hits y/n like a truck, the air being punched out of her lungs. It's then that she realizes how tired her legs are and how short of breath she is after running what felt like kilometers. Right! They were running because they were being followed!
She turns around with panic written all over her face only to find Namjoon looking strangely at her. God? Had she always been so cute? 'Don't worry miss squirrel, we are safe here. ' he simply comments.
He smoothly passes by her and leaves her jaw dropped behind as they all start walking towards the back entrance of a pub: the Leaky Cauldron.
She collects herself and follows them hesitantly: it was written in the school rules that they weren't allowed to be there after midnight... Also, teachers used to go there to drink! The were gonna get caught!
As if he had read her mind, the other colour haired boy turned to her: ' Don't worry, J-Hope knows the owner and he owns us a favor. We can go through the back entrance and ask for some butter beer to take away. Do you like butter beer? ' he asks casually.
'Yeah...'
'Great! I'm Taehyung by the way, Jimin's younger twin brother, although most people doubt it because he's a Slytherin and I'm a Hufflepuff, but I promise you we were born out of the same womb. In fact... ' he continues talking casually while y/n thoughts go a thousand miles per hour.
So they were twins! That explains a lot! They look alike but at the same time, they are so different. Taehyung is talkative and innocent while Jimin was known for being a little... dirty minded.
' I was always the one to eat second cause...' Y/n snaps back to reality as Taehyung continues narrating his whole infancy to her while they wait for J-Hope to come back out of the pub.
'... and so he was selected for Slytherin while I went to Hufflepuff. A pretty big family drama, but we're okay now so... '
'Omg Taehyung, leave the poor girl alone she is gonna regret not staying with McGonagall in the castle' Jimin says while putting some butter beers down on the wooden table.
They are know in a tree house in the middle of the woods. Sitting around a round table on the floor, very oriental, in y/n's opinion.
As they all acomodate, y/n looks around at the small room the house consists of. It has glass windows to keep the cold outside and even a small stove they use to keep the room warm!
As the last of the boys sit down, the oldest turns to face y/n and starts explaining: ' Hi, I'm Jin and I'm the oldest member of this friend group: the Bangtan boys. We are seven wizards from Korea who moved here to England to study at the best school in the world: Hogwarts. Let me introduce you to the members. The mint haired guy is Yoongi. He is a Slytherin, as you already know. Then it's J-Hope, a 4th year Hufflepuff. And then Namjoon. I'm guessing you already know each other... '
'Yeah... ' you answer shily without looking at him from fear of the redness of your checks getting caught.
'Great! Then there's the twins' he continues' Jimin and Taehyung. And last but not least we got Jungkook, our youngest member. He is a second year student, who is a ravenclaw. And me myself, I'm a Gryffindor. Why don't you introduce yourself to the rest? '
'Well... Hi, I'm y/n. I'm a third year Slytherin student and I'm also from abroad, from Bangladesh to be exact' she tells them while looking at everyone.
'WELL! Cheers to international friends my loves *hiccup* Jungkook screams while lifting his nearly empty pint of butterbeer.
As everyone starts laughing, they all lift their own pints and exclaim: 'Cheers! '
It is then that y/n feels alive again, with a wonderful, new friend group and many stories to tell. Now it is her time to enjoy, and no one was going to ruin it...
Namjoon has been walking around the castle trying to find some new adventures to live for an hour, when he suddely hears a noise. An unusual noise for him to say the least, always used to the laughter that filled his common room, hearing this now made his heart upset. He starts to follow the sound and when he turns into a dead corner he finds himself in front of a sad scenery.
Sitting on the floor is y/n. With her knees between her arms and her nose buried in them. Crying like there was no tomorrow, sounding so desperate Namjoon has to take a deep breath not to instictively give her the tightest hug of her life.
He slowly aproaches her and he speaks out loud, trying to hold back the arrogant tone he, last time, used with her: 'Y/n, I don't know what's up and you don't have to tell me if you don't want, but please let me help you. '
'There is really nothing you can do, Namjoon. But thank you though, I appreciate it. ' she says while sniffing her nose.
A bit amazed, he wonders what it can be that it's making her so upset. From what he knows and has heard, she is a good student and, although many may not see it, she has a big heart for others. Right then, an idea starts taking form in his mind.
'Then take my hand, I wanna show you something. ' He speaks in a soft voice as he opens his left hand for y/n. Indecisively, she accepts it, slowly standing up from the cold, hard floor.
As he leads her through corridors and moving stairs, the cold air of the night seems to help y/n settle down. Instead of thinking about her problems, she relies on his hands to guide her and closes her eyes so the only thing she can process is the touch of his gentle, soft hands tugging at her so she keeps up the pace.
After what feels seconds but at the same time hours, she suddenly feels him stop. As he turns around, he realizes her eyes have been closed all the time. Slowly, not wanting to scare her, he whispers: 'y/n, you can look now. '
As she opens her eyes, it takes her some time to get her eyes used to the darkness in this corridor. Nevertheless, as they grow accustomed to the little lighting, she starts to distinguish an old, wooden door carved beautifully but terrifying at the same time. So intrinsic that focussing on the details seems to absorb every last bit of energy in her.
She snaps back to reality when she hears Namjoon speak again. 'Y/n, I've brought you here because I wanted to show you two things... ' he pauses. 'There is a spell that can open all doors, all except for ones. Only you can open the doors to your heart and only by following your heart, you'll reach the right path for you. '
She opens her mouth to speak, words dancing on the tip of her tongue. 'I don't think you'll understand what my situation is. ' she finally answers.
' That's why I brought you here' he replies. 'You are the only one that can open your heart, but in this room there is a window to it. Something that will help you realize what it is that you desire. '
After saying this he gives her a soft, reassuring smile. He stands behind her and instructs her to lift up her magic wand. As she does, he whispers a spell in y/n's ear. So soft only she could understand. A word that sends electric sparks through y/n's spine and as she shivers, she pronounces it out loud with a trembling voice: 'alohomora'.
Like a resort that comes loose, the door opens to the inside revealing a circular room. Marvelled by it, y/n slowly, but steadily walks in. Taking a deep breath she savours the smell of wood and as she looks around she realizes the room is empty except for one covered object.
As she reaches the object, Namjoon has surpassed her and reaches out to take the silk sheet off the tall item. And as if magic, an old, majestuous mirror stands in front of her.
'This is the Mirror of Erised' Namjoon speaks ' it shows us the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. Go ahead and take a look y/n. This is your window, go look inside. ' he encourages her.
Y/n sets a step back to have a full vision on the image the mirror is displaying. But the only thing she sees is a scared girl clutching her wand for dear life. Until... Until the image starts to change.
She grows older, into her late twenties. Her outfit changes color, it becomes a long, white dress... A wedding dress! And she is looking at someone, she can't distinguish who, his face is so... common, it could be anyone. But she looks in love, she is smiling with her whole body.
Suddenly the image looks at her. As y/n slowly starts to walk to her older self, so does the image and as she elevates her hand to touch the mirror, the image disappears and she is left looking back at her young self.
This whole time Namjoon has been looking at her reactions, trying to read y/n as if she was one more of his books. He couldn't see what she was seeing in the mirror's reflection. But when she suddenly touched the mirror, he knew something was wrong. Like she had cut herself glass she takes her hand back. With wild eyes she gives him one last look. And just like that, she starts running.
Aimlessly she runs and runs around the school hoping to loose Namjoon and finding some quiet place for herself. When her lungs start to feel like they are on fire and her heart threatens to jump out of her chest, she stops on her tracks. She can recognize where she is: the stables where the pegasi sleep. As she approaches an empty stable, she lies on the ground and closes her eyes hoping for the morning to never come as she needs to think about her most difficult life choice.
The next few weeks, y/n spends the time wandering around the castle. She manages to stay hidden from Namjoon, while his words of the last time still stay with her like a splinter in her heart.
She also wants to stay away from the Mirror's room. She is afraid of what she had seen as she knows, one day, she would have to face the truth and fight for her dreams. This all, if she chooses for her own destiny of course, and that is a choice she didn't want to make just yet. But as the end of the school year neared and so her return to her hometown, she is aware her time is coming.
Days pass by and y/n doesn't change her technique: she hides from Namjoon everytime she hears his voice and only talks to the other Bangtan boys when she truly needs some help with her classes.
But one day, after a long class of defense against the dark arts, she finds herself wandering around the castle yet again. Although this time, she chooses a different path, she doesn't knows why, but she feels a driving force that lures her into a very specific place of the castle. It isn't until she is standing in front of that same wooden door that she realizes: the Mirror of Erised is right behind there.
She takes her wand and murmurs that one spell she hadn't forgotten. 'Alohomora' and like that, the door opened once again, to her biggest fear but also her biggest desire.
She walks in and silently closes the door behind her. And she stands again in front of the mirror, but this time, she was facing it alone. As the image starts to change, she distinguishes the same scenario she had once seen: herself in her late twenties, happily getting married to an unknown man.
But after some short time, the image changes. This time she has a few white hairs. She is still with that man, but this time, they are surrounded by three children. A kid, a toddler and a baby she is holding.
She gasps, and takes a step forward and, just like the first time, when she goes to touch the mirror, the image disappears.
She is left alone with her heartbeat and the words that Namjoon once told her that still resonate in her head: You are the only one that can open your heart, but in this room there is a window to it.
Is this what she truly desires? She isn't sure, but one thing is for sure: she would be coming back to look into that mirror.
Like this, the room of the Mirror of Erised continues appearing in front of her as she wanders around the school. Day after day she spends hours watching her happy reflection have a life full of laughter. Never touching the mirror as she is afraid that the image will disappear and so her dreams.
But slowly, the images start to change. That man starts to get charasteristic face features. At first, she doesn't recognize him, but then she slowly starts seeing similarities between the image and someone she knows. Of course she doesn't want to believe it and as time passes by and the image gets clearer she decides the mirror is wrong.
Still, she continues visiting the room. She spends her free hours there, in the sweet silence that accompanies that beautiful life movie she was able to watch and live through the mirror. And even accepts that, maybe it was him the one she desires.
It is that, that she is thinking one day when she suddenly hears a noise behind her. She turns around and watches the door open to let a person in. She can't distinguish him in the darkness at first, but when he comes into the light the mirror reflects, she recognizes the dorky, gryffindor boy that had brought her here for the first time: Kim Namjoon.
He looks surprised at her, not having expected her to be here as he thought he had scared her off the last time he had seen her. She looks pale and tired, as if she hadn't slept a single minute for the last two weeks. And so thin her chubby cute cheeks had disappeared and the only thing remaining where her cheekbones under her beautiful chocolate-coloured eyes.
Y/n quickly recovers and turns around to go back into her reflection, but as she frantically looks into the mirror she realizes it's gone for good. She doesn't know if it's the image having disappeared or if it's her not being alone for the first time in some long weeks that makes her break down.
Right as she let's goes and falls into the ground, Namjoon catches her and while holding her tight he sits them both on the floor. As he sushes her and rocks her from side to side he just mumbles things to try to calm her, focussing on his tone and not on what he is saying.
They spend hours like this, holding onto each other for dear life, Namjoon whispering sweet nothings into her ears as she cries her heart out onto his chest. And it is his soft whispering that starts to calm y/n down. As she sniffs and looks back up at him, he can see the sadness gathered in the pearls at the corner of her eyes.
It break his heart and his voice trembles when he speaks loud for the first time since he walked into the room: ' y/n, I'm here for you, I want to help you. But I can't do so unless you tell me what it is that it is making you go under like this. Talk to me, tell me what it is that you see on the mirror. '
She is unsure, she knows no one can help her. Her destiny has been decided for her a long time ago. But she has been carrying this secret for way too long. The weight of it making her heart age by the minute. And so she turns around, still in Namjoon's embrace, to look at her reflection once again.
With a shaky voice she starts to talk: 'I see... I can see my life. I am happy, very happy and all of my dreams are becoming true. I marry a man of my choice that I love and have kids with him. We grow old and spend the rest of our lives together. '
As she speaks, Namjoon heart starts to break, he shouldn't have expected nothing, but yet here he was, that's what he was here for. To see if that was what he desired. His hopes started leaving him with every word she pronounced until...
'And the man I'm with... He is the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. With bronzed cheeks and deep, black, dragon eyes... ' she turns around, and as she looks into those same eyes, she speaks up: 'it's you Namjoon, it's you that I can see myself living my life with. You and only you make me happy. I've come to realize that the last few days, but... '
But she can't finish her phrase as suddenly two soft, plump lips are crushing into her, into a sweet but desperate kiss. She is startled, her eyes open as she never would have expected such a response from him. But as he sweetly starts moving his pillow-like lips against her, her eyes fall close and she starts to follow his rhythm. Soft at the beginning, but frantic by the end, trying to connect to each other not only as much as possible at physical levels, but also emotionally. Their tongues dancing to an eccentric song that only them can hear. But as the oxigen starts to desappear and their lungs start to fill with fire they break their kiss to lean onto each other's foreheads.
Breathing heavily, Namjoon speaks up: 'y/n, I love you. I've loved you since the first day I met you, I just didn't know until now. I came here because I was confused by what I was feeling and wanted to look into the mirror. But now I know, I don't need no mirror to tell me you are the most important thing in my life.'
Still short of breath, y/n can't process what she is hearing. So, the life she so much desired was still a possibility? Still her family would never accept it. What was the point of trying then? Softly, with tears wielding in her eyes, she answers: 'Namjoon...oh Namjoon, God knows I love you more than my life and would do anything to be with you. But our love is an impossible love as my destiny has already been chosen for me. '
Namjoon can't believe what he is hearing. What could possibly be her destiny that she wasnt allowed to be with him? Lovingly, he looks at her: 'y/n, I don't care what kind of trouble you are in, I want to help you, but for that, you need to talk to me and tell me about it.'
'I just... Okay, I guess you need to know the truth if I have to hurt you anyways. '
Namjoon wants to speak up to this comment, but he doesn't want to scare her off, so he silently stares at her as she sits back and starts her story.
14 notes · View notes
sunnqwrites · 4 years
Text
Sticky Notes
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─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ───
genre: fluff, a bit of angst if you squint
warnings:  a few curse words(?), um kuroo is a lil bastard?
pairing: kozume kenma x gender neutral! reader
synopsis: kenma wasn’t a person for confessing straight up, so all he’ll do is send you sticky notes from a far.
word count: 2.1k
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When someone thought of the volleyball player, Kozume Kenma, they think of a quiet and reserved male.  A male that usually never voices his opinion.  Someone who doesn’t want to be noticed by on-lookers.  But that’s what someone who doesn’t know Kozume Kenma would think.  They don’t personally know this, cat like volleyball player.  Kenma is quite blunt, especially to his underclassman Lev whenever he messes up.  The duo-color haired male likes to show his friends that he cares in little ways.  As much as helping them practice if they just lost a big game.
“Kenma!”
 Golden eyes turned away from their psp and met hazel colored eyes.  Kuroo Tetsuro, Kenma’s childhood friend.  The second-year let out a soft sigh and turned off his game before turning to his friend.  “What do you need Kuroo?”  The golden eyed second-year mumbled, itching to go back to his previous game that he was playing.
“[name] is coming to visit.~”
Kenma knew that tone from Kuroo.  It was teasing.  Kenma let out a small hum before turning his psp back on, “what about that?”  The duo-color haired second-year knew Kuroo had a smirk on his face without even looking.  “Don’t you want to see them, Kenma?”  Kuroo smiled, a knowing smile that is.  Kenma fiddled with his device while it was turning on and looked at his rooster haired friend.  Did he really want to answer that question?  It could just result in Kuroo teasing him for the rest of the week, hell, even the month if Kuroo would hang onto the answer Kenma would give him.
So Kenma did the thing he thought was the best.  Ignore the rooster-head, making Kuroo pout.  He thought he would have gotten at least some-sort of answer from the game-loving boy.  If Kuroo couldn’t get a reaction out of Kenma this time, he’ll get a reaction from Kenma when [name] actually arrives.
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Letting out a soft hum, you flipped the page to the book you were reading.  You were currently in the library, and it was lunch time.  You just hoped that a certain rooster-headed captain wouldn’t annoy you.  Maybe he’ll be practicing with Kenma!  You softly smiled at the thought of the quiet setter.  Someone that didn’t know you could definitely look at how you look at Kenma and say that you were in love.   The look in your eyes had so much adoration for the game-loving student.  “[name]-senpai?”  Your head shot up to meet bright brown eyes, a big grin on the person’s face.
“Hello, Inuoka...”  You craned your neck to the side to see if the tall first year came with anyone else.  “and hello Shibayama and Lev.”  Of course, the other two first years would come.  It seemed like those boys were together everywhere they go.  Or maybe every time you saw them they were just together as a trio.  You gave the three first-years a small smile and looked at Inuoka.  “Did you need something, you three?”
“We have a volleyball camp coming up, and we’re going over to Shinzen High!  But we need our grades up..and Shibayama said that he wouldn’t be able to help us on his own, and I thought of you!”
You let out an inward chuckle.  Of course they needed help studying for a volleyball camp.  “Fine, fine, just go get your supplies while I get some study guide books alright,”  you informed over your shoulder after getting up to get books from another section of the library.  The three first years nodded and bolted off, with Shibayama dragging Lev before the tall Russian could make a remark that could embarrass someone.
Looking at the first-year books, your mind wandered to the chaotic first-years.  They were sure loud with the exception of Shibayama.  Lev was quite clumsy at volleyball whenever you came to watch Kenma the volleyball club.  He just couldn’t match-up with Kenma’s sets and according to what Kenma had told you, Lev was horrible at his recieves.  Now Inuoka was - in your opinion - was a good volleyball player.  Better than Lev to say the least.  You had went to go watch them play Karasuno during Golden Week, and you were impressed by the small ginger in Karasuno.  You were pretty sure Kenma even became friends with the small middle-blocker.
You mentally grinned at the thought of Kenma having more friends.  You had gotten the materials you needed and made your way back to your study table.  Placing down the books, your eyes wandered to a light pink colored sticky note.  “What’s this...?”  You mumbled, delicately taking the sticky note off of your closed book.  
‘Your smile is beautiful, don’t stop smiling.’
You blinked at the message written on the light pink sticky note.  When..when did you get a secret admirer?  You knew that the person had put the sticky note down when you had gone to get the books for the first-years.  It could have been just a random student from your school.  Oh god did you have a stalker?!  You hoped you didn’t have a stalker.
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The golden-eyed boy let out an exasperated sigh.  Why did he just do that?!  Now you probably think whoever this ‘secret admirer’ of yours is a crazy stalker.  Kenma let out another huff at his decision of giving you that sticky note.  He just hoped that you won’t figure out his handwriting on the sticky note.  Kenma crouched down behind a shelf of books, internally screaming at himself for even giving you that note.  Even if it was anonymously.
“Kenma?”
His head shot to the side to meet [eye color] eyes.  Oh god it’s you.  In the flesh.  Kenma’s eyes shot to another area of the library before meeting your eyes again.  “Um, hello, [name]..”  He mumbled, his head turning away from you.  You let out a soft giggle and scooted closer to Kenma.  “I usually don’t see you in the library during lunchtime, why are you here?”  You questioned and Kenma swore his heart stopped.  He isn’t going to make himself embarrassed by confessing that he came to the library to give you a sticky note.
“I-”
A quiet but sudden ring let out through the library, spooking both you and Kenma.  Pouting, you stood up before helping Kenma up.  Kenma swore that his heart started racing even faster.  Faster than when he would finish up a big volleyball game.  Your hands were warm and soft, contrasting his cold hands.
“I’ll see you during practice, Kenma!”  You chirped before bouncing out of the library, missing the light pink tinge on Kenma’s cheeks.  And it seemed Kenma missed the blush on resting on your cheeks as well.
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A demonic laughter can be heard throughout the club room, catching the attention of the volleyball players.  Kuroo was cackling at Kenma’s ...flustered face?  Oh god is the world ending, the Kozume Kenma is flustered at something?  “You-  You actually gave [name] a sticky note and almost got caught?”  Kuroo repeated, making Kenma let out a groan.
“Yes.”
Queue more of Kuroo’s demonic laughter, making everyone in the club room sweatdrop.  
“Oi, Kuroo!  Be quiet and leave Kenma alone!”  The team’s libero, Yaku yelled from ourside the club room, making Kuroo let out a groan.  Kenma silently thanked the team mom Yaku for saving Kenma from Kuroo.
“[name]’s here!!”  Lev yelled out, making Kenma’s head shoot up and turn to the front doors of the gymnasium.  You were standing there, a small smile adorning your features.  Kenma swore his heart stopped for a second before ripping his eyes away from your figure and back to the current volleyball game.
Hazel eyes looked at Kenma with underlying mischief and smug.  He saw how Kenma looked at you.  So much adoration and love in his eyes.  Kuroo might even say that Kenma likes you more than his games.  The third-year captain walked over to the slightly hunched second year with a smirk.  “You should continue giving them sticky notes.”  Kuroo suggested, making Kenma look at Kuroo, then to you, then back at Kuroo.
“I guess..”  Kenma mumbled back, making Kuroo grin at his childhood friend.
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Kenma did continue to leave you anonymous sticky notes.  He would give you multiple if you had a horrible day at school.  You were confused on who would leave you sticky notes, but you were grateful about who kept sending them.  Most of the messages on the sticky notes were really sweet.  Some encouraged you on days when you wanted to give up.  And some even made you laugh with a dumb joke.
But now, you wanted to find the culprit.  Wanted to find whoever keeps sending you these cute notes.  It’s because you don’t want to hurt them.  You had feelings for Kenma, and you didn’t want to get this person’s hopes up that you liked them because of the sticky notes.  You needed to find this person.
“Kenma~”
Oh god he knew that tone of voice.  Golden eyes darted to Kuroo’s tall figure, a curious look in his eyes.  Kuroo’s eyes were hard, strict even after that one sentence.  He gave Kenma a way too happy grin, “You need to confess to [name].”  Kenma wished he had a drink in his mouth to spit at Kuroo.  His eyes barely widened at what Kuroo said, but the rooster-head noticed the slight widen in Kenma’s eyes.
“N-”
“Someone might come and snatch [name] away from you~”
Kenma’s jaw tightened at the thought of you being taken away from him.   Of course he didn’t want that, but he also didn’t want to confess just yet.  Oh...maybe he’ll confess with the sticky notes he’s been giving you.  Or he could just..confess to you straight up.  No..he’d rather confess to you with the sticky notes.
“Fine.”  Kenma retorted, his eyes glued to the ground.  He would have to confess soon, or else Kuroo would come for his ass with a pitchfork and devil horns.  Kenma shivered at the thought of Kuroo chasing after him for not confessing.  
“Good~”  Kuroo smirked, making the second-year setter let out a soft sigh.  Now he had to confess to you quicker than he anticipated to, all because of Kuroo.  Kenma swore he had a headache at just the thought of you rejecting him.
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You were worried about your anonymous sticky note sender.  Their latest notes  would only have a word written on it.  It first started with the word ‘I’.  It was given to you during class when you weren’t looking, and somehow none of your other classmates noticed who was the sender.
The next word was ‘love’.  You had gotten this sticky note when the third-year libero delivered this to you, a smile on his face.  You first thought that your admirer was him, but he quickly explained that he was just here to deliver it to you, and that he wasn’t your ‘secret admirer’.
And of course, the last word was ‘you.’  Put them all together and you get ‘I love you.’ without a sender name.  It was given to you during a bad day.  A stuffed animal was on your desk before school had ended.  And on the stuffed animal was the sticky note.
Now, you’re just waiting for the sender to send their name.  You want to meet them so badly.  You had been talking to Kenma about your little problem, but all your responses with him were a bit, dry?  Was Kenma mad at you?  You were slightly panicking now.  What have you done to make Kenma mad at you?  Speak a bit too much to him?  Oh god you probably annoyed him with your rambling!
You silently sniffed.  You were crouched down, leaning against the outside wall of the gymnasium.  Tears had pricked the ends of your eyes.  You didn’t want Kenma to be mad at you.  You liked, hell, even loved Kenma, and you couldn’t bare the thought of him being mad at you.
“[name]?”
Your head shot up to meet Kenma’s golden eyes through blurry eyes from tears.  “Why are you crying?”  He softly asked, crouching down right next to you.  “I’m sorry if I made you mad for being so annoying..”  You mumbled weakly, choking down sobs.   Your attention was brought to a small stuffed cat in Kenma’s arms.  Oh god was he going to confess to someone?
Kenma could only let out a sigh before bringing you into a warm hug.  “I was never mad at you.”  You sniffled quietly and met his eyes.
“Why were your responses kind of dry when I told you about my sticky notes situation?”
Kenma stayed quiet.  It killed your soul a little.
“I didn’t want you to find out.”  Kenma softly said, bringing the stuffed cat into your arms.  There was a sticky note.
“Wait..”
You looked on what was on the sticky note.
‘I love you -Kozume Kenma”
─── ∙ ~εïз~ ∙ ───
taglist: @haikoo @allywritesimagines @anonanonymousanon @loevbot @miyuswriting @thoebe-fly @acacaza @koutaroulovebot
ask to be added onto taglist ♡
266 notes · View notes
Note
Hi! I saw your post about you taking requests, and I would like to request prompt 4 en 15 from the grumpy affectionates prompts for light fingers if you want to 😊 in case you haven’t noticed, I really like them 😍
A/N: Sorry this took so long to get to. I got about 2/3 of the way through writing a version of it and then decided I hated it and started over. Hope you enjoy the new version! (Also I slightly changed the wording of 15 to feel more natural/fit better in the story.) Word Count: 1596 Content Warnings: alcohol reference, jealousy
It was one of the rare date nights where Diego actually wanted to go out, so despite being tired from a long week at work and content to just cuddle, you agreed. Pulling out all the stops, you’d gotten dolled up and let him guide you through the city. First, was dinner out at a nice restaurant, classier than you usually bothered with but well worth waiting in a queue for. Then he had suggested continuing the night with dancing, out at a place you knew of that combined ballroom and more typical club styles to create an eclectic, exciting and ever changing affair.
You knew Diego knew how to dance, and had seen him do so on several occasions, usually with you around the apartment, but tonight he was in rare form. There wasn’t a single song he didn’t want to move to, and no matter what the music suggested, he wanted to hold you close for all of it. 
You were no slouch, but he made it a challenge of endurance to keep up with him.
A soft, romantic tune hummed from the overhead speakers and gratefully you slowed to a gentle sway with him, your arms around his neck and his on your waist. Staring into his warm brown eyes that reflected back the club lights beautifully, you felt a sort of bliss settle over you. You had always thought you weren’t meant for “peace,” and had always told yourself that love like your parents had wasn’t meant to find you, because it was easier that way, safer to protect yourself from heartbreak. And yet, here you were, enjoying exactly that. This thing between you and Diego was real and solid and staying and you saw it all in the way he gazed down at you. 
Suddenly the song ended, transitioning into a rapidfire tango, and whatever moment of contemplation you were having was lost into the steps. 
“Diego,” you said, leaning up to call directly into his ear over the music when the song finally wound down. “I’m gonna take a break, just sit out for a sec, alright?”
He frowned, looking worried or like he was about to protest. But then he nodded, kissing you quickly and letting you go. You smiled at him as you wound your way to the sidelines and he watched from the dancefloor. 
Trying to catch your breath, you leaned against the bar, turning to look out at the crowd, sweeping over it to see how Diego handled your absence. Before you spotted him though, something cool tapped against your arm, and you whipped around to find the pretty bartender smiling at you with an outstretched glass of ice water. 
“Oh I didn’t order…” you started before she shook her head.
“No, but I saw you out there tearing up the place,” she smiled. “So I figured you could use a drink, and water’s the only thing I’m allowed to give on the house.”
You laughed, accepting the drink gratefully and taking a long swallow, the cool liquid instantly soothing you. 
“Your man there, he’s pretty...intense.”
“What?” you frowned, trying to pick up on her meaning. “Diego just doesn’t know how to do things in halves.” You shrugged, used to your husband’s quirks. 
“Does that include jealousy?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him jealous actually. Why?”
“Just checking if I should sleep with one eye open or if that glare’s all bark and no bite.” 
You followed her gaze, turning back around to spot Diego, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and watching intensely. You grimaced. Jealousy wasn’t his style, but overprotectiveness definitely was. Even at a distance, you could tell he didn’t trust the bartender and was bothered by your chatting with her. 
“I’ll talk to him and make sure he knows you were just being friendly.”
“Was I?” she raised an eyebrow and smirked at you, causing you to sputter and nearly choke on another sip of water.
Carefully regaining your composure you smiled. “Well I’m flattered, but…” 
“Don’t sweat it,” she grinned, waving aside your comment, “I don’t need an answer or reciprocation. It was just a bit of harmless fun with someone pretty to liven up the boring work night.”
“I should probably get back over there,” you said lamely, and she nodded. 
Emptying the rest of your glass, you offered her one last smile over your shoulder as you dodged through the club to Diego’s side. As soon as you were in range, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you so that your back was flush to his chest and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin, following his words with feather-light kisses.
You laughed, twisting out of his grasp to take his hands and tug him back toward the dance floor. “I was gone for less than five minutes.”
“I know,” he sighed, pulling you close again, hands falling to your hips. “But I always miss you. Especially when you look so pretty, no, gorgeous.” 
His head fell to your shoulder again, face pressing into you. 
“Why were you flirting with the bartender?” he asked suddenly.
“I was being friendly.” The pair of you spun around the dancefloor with the others, moving swiftly to the song. 
“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, hair tickling your cheek. “That wasn’t just friendly.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No! Why would you assume I was? Because I don’t like my wife flirting with other people?”
“No, because you’re acting really strangely.”
“I’m not acting strangely.” 
He stepped back so that instead of dancing, you were squaring off. Several of the people around you noticed, stopping their own movements to stare at you. 
“What do you call this behavior then? Getting all cuddly and affectionate in public is not your style Diego, and neither is accusing me of flirting with someone else.”
“Well, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all night and you haven’t noticed once! So what if I got a little pissed and more forward?”
“You’ve had my attention all night! I don’t understand!”
“Not all of it. You’ve been distracted and not really present.”
Your scowl deepened, crossing your arms across your chest. Maybe he was right that you were thinking a lot tonight, but he had no right to demand that you didn’t. And it wasn’t like you were thinking of someone else, or something else even. All your thoughts had been about Diego in some way or another. Who did he think he was, to yell at you like this?
“Now you’re annoyed with me,” he stated, voice a little softer. 
“Obviously.”
His expression softened and he stepped closer. They weren’t quite puppy-dog eyes he was giving you, but they were pretty close, and you could already feel your resolve cracking. But you were determined to be annoyed. You bit the inside of your cheek.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, one hand coming up to rest on your elbow, face fully a smolder now.
You felt yourself melting at his touch. The rest of the crowd had faded into faint background buzz.
“STOP BEING SO CUTE, IT’S NOT FAIR!” you blurted out. “I’m trying to still be mad at you.”
“But why?”
“Because you were being jealous and grouchy and I don’t appreciate it when you get that way.”
He nodded in understanding. “If you promise to stop being mad, I’ll make it up to you. Any way you want.”
You couldn’t help the smile that cracked your face at the offer, and the way his lower rumble was suggestive of what he meant. 
“Just shut up and dance with me,” you murmured, stepping fully back into his embrace. “No more jealousy or weirdness. And tell me if you feel like I’m ignoring you.”
“Okay, I will. I promise.”
“Good, then I’ll think about forgiving you.”
He laughed, twirling you in his arms. And just like that, all the tension, all the weirdness melted away as if it had never been. 
Well into the early morning the pair of you danced, stumbling home on aching feet just as the first birds began to chirp and stir around you.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” you said, leaning exhaustedly against him as you fumbled with the building’s finicky front door. 
“What are you sorry for?” he gently took the key from your hand and opened the door himself. “I was the one not communicating.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to shout at you in the middle of everyone like that.”
“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And you said I was cute.” He smirked teasingly at you before taking you by the hand and leading you up the narrow stair. 
You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at his back and squeezing his hand gently.
“Of course that was your take away,” you muttered as he opened the apartment door next.
“Next time—” he started but you shook your head.
“I don’t want there to be a next time. I just want us to talk.”
“Okay. And I’ll try. I’m just...still not used to someone who wants to hear me say things.”
“I know.” You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace that he returned in seconds. “Are we good, though. For real? No jealousy, no bitterness about confronting you?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
You smiled, dropping onto the bed to tug off your shoes with a sigh of relief. 
“Good. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
28 notes · View notes
sombreboy · 4 years
Text
Mused obsession (2)
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Written by @sombreboy​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​
[ masterlist ]
⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 5.4k ⇢Ch.warnings: Alcohol consumption, profanity, jealous jk, so much sexual tension, bending the overwatch rules for the sake of the story don’t come at me lmao, also this is the last chapter without any filth so buckle up honey
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Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.
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Jimin’s mind kept wandering to the young artist even when he was bustling backstage. He delegates tasks to a couple crew members and walks over to a standing mirror to check his appearance. He’s ethereal, dressed in a soft white shirt, wrapping high around his neck and tied with a loose bow. On top of that is a fitted jacket with large black lapels, covered entirely in dark gold accents. He wanted to be seen, and this would definitely do the trick. His guests haven’t even arrived and he’s already getting looks from the backstage crew and hired models. He adjusts his tight pants to hug comfortably, drawing just the right amount of attention to his toned legs and small waist.
“Park, it’s time.” His stage manager approaches with a waitlist in-hand. “Follow me to the entryway. It’s time to greet our guests.”
Guests trail in one by one, or in groups, filling up the venue. However, Jungkook is still on his way, in no rush.  He hates to be in the middle of a cramped crowd. Although he knows he would most likely be allowed to pass through the line, he prefers to simply arrive a little later than everybody else. It gives him a grand entrance, in some type of way — always drawing the eyes of people, shocked that he actually would show up. He knows the game.
“We’ve arrived, Jeon.” The chauffeur announces as they park in front of the building. Jungkook’s slick black car is turning the heads of   those curious to see who would show up late. With his type of car, surely it’s somebody of importance. Jungkook wonders if Jimin is anxious to see him, or maybe even a tad bit worried about whether he would show up or not.
Inside, Jimin floats from person to person as they arrive, thanking them for coming and receiving compliments in return. He was right about his choice in clothing as he began to attract a lot of attention, especially from his agency mate Taehyung.
Tae is best known for his work in accessory modelling, using his smooth hands, tapered wrists and long neck to his advantage. His physical assets are a prized commodity when displaying very luxe pieces of jewellery. His ads often display on Cartier and Rolex storefronts, in case you didn’t know. Like he’d ever let you forget. Being managed by the same company often meant Tae got the chance to work alongside Jimin, always taking the opportunity to shamelessly flirt.
“You should have asked me to model for you, Jimin.” He places his hand on the small of Jimin’s back and toys with the sequins there. He leans close to Jimin’s ear and breathes gently, tickling his cuff—“You know I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Jimin clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “I’ll keep that in mind, Tae. Thank you for offering.” Taehyung cracks a sly smile and begins to walk away, turning to look over his shoulder, making sure Jimin watches. “Congratulations on the collection, by the way. Can’t wait to see how Jeon pulled off the promo shots.”
Jimin smiles back and nods as Tae leaves to greet their manager, then releases a sigh and looks around the room for Jungkook, wondering if he’d ever show up.
Jungkook steps out of the car as his chauffeur holds the door open, then heads towards the venue’s front door and is immediately allowed to pass by the small queue waiting to enter. Perks of being a celebrity, supposedly. As expected, he’s greeted with smiles, almost flocked by other celebrities trying to make a connection — mostly for business, others for personal reasons. He doesn’t smile, however. He simply excuses himself as he moves further, eyes searching for the one blonde he came for in the first place. Unsuccessful in his mission, he opts for alcohol, heading towards the bar area to lean against the counter. He orders a large pint of beer, never truly understanding those able to drink whiskey. As he chugs down a few gulps, his eyes finally spot the man he was looking for. Only question is... who’s that whispering in his ear?
Jungkook’s eyes spark in recognition when the mystery man pulls away to leave. Ah, Kim Taehyung. Another model that has been up his ass for quite a while to have his photo taken. Well, he just blew his chance on that one... The younger remains at his spot, halfway done with his drink and eyes fixated on the blonde. He’s fascinated by his effortless beauty, simply socializing with others. He quickly remembers he brought a small camera, just as high quality as his larger ones, but much more subtle for places like this. He places the beer back on the counter before aiming his camera at Jimin, snapping a few secret shots.
Absolutely angelic.
Jimin taps his foot to the music, leaning against the bar at the back of the room while he waits for his cocktail to arrive. He has no shame in ordering a cosmopolitan, loving the blushed pink color and sweet taste. He was craving something sweet after his photo shoot yesterday—banana milk still ripe on his tongue. He finds himself wondering if he should order something for Jungkook, pleading to make the impression of a courteous host, but decides he’d rather wait to see the man first.  Drink in hand, he sways his hips to the music, combing through the crowd, shaking hands and kissing other fellow agency members on the cheek as he brushes past them. Now on his second cosmo, he’s feeling loose and a little impatient. His lips curl delicately around the rim of the glass to sip down the last of the pink liquid. He thumbs a stray droplet from his bottom lip and decides it’s time to head backstage and check in.
Jungkook keeps his eyes fixed on the elder the entire time, enjoying the opportunity to observe how Jimin acts when he isn’t aware of the younger's eyes. A cosmopolitan, huh? Jimin would order such a drink. Kook wants to taste for himself — having never tried one before. He normally goes for beer, which he finishes off and sets down on the counter with a clonk. He’s still watching Jimin, the social butterfly that he is. A beautiful, gorgeous butterfly...the way his plush lips curl around the rim of the glass — mesmerizing. What’s even more devastating is the subtle swipe of his thumb across his lower lip.
“Park Jimin, you are dangerous...” Jungkook mutters to himself as his cautious eyes follow the man.  He glances down at his watch, knowing it was almost showtime. He decides to announce his presence beforehand, sauntering over, keeping his gaze on Jimin until he’s next to him. He gives his arm a light nudge with his own.
“Hey.”
It takes Jimin a couple seconds to register that the nudge was coming from Jungkook, then stops dead in his tracks by the man’s dark suit and styled hair. He can smell a woodsy musk coming from him, enchanting his senses. Jimin is so impressed by how well Jungkook has cleaned up that he can barely take his eyes off him.
“Hey, you,” Jimin smiles and wraps him in a friendly hug—perhaps a little too friendly given his liquid courage. “You look great,” he gushes and gives the man a light kiss on the cheek like he did with his friends — just a little longer than the rest. “Decided to finally show up, huh? Fashionably late—I get it.” The model teases, enjoying how wide Jungkook’s eyes get when he doesn’t treat him like a big-shot. “Let’s get you settled in, Jeon.” Jimin loops his arm into the younger’s and leads him to the bar to buy a new round of cosmos. “The show is about to begin. I saved you a seat at the front.”
Jungkook is no stranger to friendly kisses on the cheek from acquaintances, but this was the first time when coming from another man — that it made a shiver run down his spine. Jimin’s lips are soft, plushy, and feel like a kiss from an angel itself. It is, unfortunately, addicting . A part of him can’t help but wonder how they’d feel on his own lips... Jungkook shrugs off his continuous thoughts; there are more important things to think about than kissing the man holding him close... right?   He lets the smaller man guide him towards the bar, eyes immediately falling on the sweet drink and licking his lips at the sight. It looks delicious, so he decides to get one as well, then picks it up and tilts his head back, tasting it with a larger gulp than one normally would . T he sweetness coats his tongue and leaves a small layer of liquid on his lower lip.
“I’m technically not late...the show hasn't started yet.” He smiles, the mix of beer and cosmo slowly hitting his system. Kook glances up at Jimin. “Shall we go, then?”
Arm in arm, Jimin guides Jungkook towards the runway. He holds him close to navigate through the dense crowd. Heads turn as the two of them enter the room, some trying their best to network with the photographer as he passes by. “You’re getting more attention than me,” Jimin comments over the sound of bustling gossip. “If I was smart I would have offered to dress you in a suit from my collection. You’d fit right in with the models.”
“That would have been a smart choice,” Jungkook jokes, eyes continuously falling back to where Jimin holds his bicep close, and where their bodies pressed together. He barely notices the passing words of others and they completely go over his head. His focus is solely on Jimin’s sweet tone, trying to keep his eyes up to look around. He isn’t usually comfortable in crowded areas, so he’s grateful to the model for keeping him grounded. “Maybe I would’ve accepted.”
“Then it’s settled,” Jimin says with a squeeze to his arm, noting how the tall handsome man melts into his touch. “And it’s not going to be just any suit, obviously. It has to be custom .” He leads Jungkook close to the stage and takes a seat next to him, keeping his body close for comfort in the hectic bustle of celebrities. “Think of it as a tip for your hard work these past few days,” he adds.
...Or an excuse to run his hands over more of the photographer’s toned body as he takes measurements. Either way, it would give him another opportunity to have the man alone.
“I wouldn’t expect anything but custom,” Jungkook scrunches his nose as he smiles, joking on his own expense. “That, or I wouldn’t be Jeon Jungkook.” He slumps down on the chair as Jimin follows to take a seat next to him. Their sides are still pressed together tightly — not that the younger has anything against it. Rather the opposite. He enjoys the close proximity. His gaze continously steals glances at the elders flawless profile. He knew he was admiring the man already, but up close...it’s next level. Jungkook’s eyes travel down the soft slope of Jimin’s nose until they land on the plush, tinted lips that are blessed with a natural pout. ...it should be illegal.
Jimin may not have noticed Jungkook’s covert photos earlier, but he’s not blind to the man’s roaming stare as it fixates on every facet of his face. Jimin sneaks a few glances for himself, or rather, unabashedly eye-fucks him. Everything about the guy is alluring—the long dark hair, the sharp jawline and slightly exposed chest under his low-cut black shirt. Jimin almost salivates at the thought of claiming his mouth in front of all these strangers.  It must be the third cosmo in his system. He’s feeling loose and uninhibited, even more now that he knows his interests aren’t misplaced. If Jungkook keeps staring, Jimin might have to fast-track that personal fitting.
The lights dim to indicate that the show was about to begin.
“Excuse me,” Jimin leans close to whisper, purposefully pressing his glossy pout against Jungkook’s ear, anxious to see how it affects him, “I’ve got a speech to give.” He then stands and gracefully floats to stage to find his footing in front of the microphone.
Jungkook forces himself to tightly swallow down the groan threatening to escape his lips when he feels Jimin’s breath fan over his ear. The scent of alcohol mixed with the elders sweet perfume is intoxicating. One turn of his head and his lips could’ve been on Jimin’s. The thought was awfully tempting, but before he was able to react in any way, the blonde withdrew himself to stride towards the stage.  Jimin’s ring-clad fingers delicately wrap around the microphone stand, and the younger straightens his posture — gaze still fixed on the gorgeous angel before him. He reaches down his pocket, fingers gripping around his camera. He really wants to capture the moment.
“I thank each and every one of you for attending, what I hope to be, the very beginning of a successful launch.”
Cameras flash from the crowd—a few media sources, fashion bloggers and excited industry mates document the moment. Jimin gulps down a small wave of nerves and continues on. He’s a professional. He can do this.
“My team and I are excited to share a first look at the ‘Be Your Light’ collection, created to evoke confidence and empower those who wear it to show their true selves.”  He clasps his hands together in thanks and gives a small bow to the crowd. “Enjoy the show and please look forward to more in the coming weeks...” He looks over to Jungkook, as if speaking directly to the man as he delivers his finishing statement — “...there’s much more yet to come.”
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to lift his own camera along with everybody else, snapping a few closeup shots of this big moment. It’s huge, and Kook can’t help but smile with pride. He’s gonna go so far, especially with his assistance. As soon as their eyes meet, Jungkook lowers his camera to truly see Jimin as he finishes on stage. His heart flutters — excitement evident as he flashes the gorgeous angel a toothy grin followed with a nod of approval. There surely is much more to come. And, hopefully, more projects together.
Jimin can’t wipe the smile from his face. The applause of the room carries on as he walks back to his seat. But barely there, he’s tugged to the side by a familiar pair of smooth hands.
“Loved the speech,” Taehyung slurs, urging the model to sit beside him instead. The scent of dark rum is heavy on his breath. He was never very good at staying composed during events like this. Deep bass thunders from the rafters as the first model hits the runway.
“Thanks Tae, but I’ve got to—“ Jimin is silenced by the man as he grips his face and tries to kiss him roughly, missing by an inch.
“You’re such a TEASE tonight,” Tae snarls. “Come home with me.”
His proposition is blunt as per usual. Jimin politely shakes his head and smiles as if nothing happened, trying to reduce the amount of attention they’re already drawing. To his relief, their manager intervenes and coaxes Tae to sit back in his seat, allowing Jimin enough time to slip back to his rightful spot beside Jungkook.
Jungkook saw everything. Watching Taehyung attempt to kiss Jimin was probably one of the most frustrating feelings he had ever felt. That’s when he knew he didn’t want anybody else to have a chance with the blonde. It also meant...Jungkook really has an interest in the man. It’s obvious, but he wouldn’t acknowledge it — not until he saw Jimin almost kiss somebody who wasn’t him. The very moment Jimin sat down next to him, his tongue continuously prodded the inside of his cheek in annoyance. One arm quickly wraps around the elders shoulders, pulling him closer to talk to through the loud music.  “What the hell was that?”
“Nothing,” Jimin mumbles, crossing his legs. He and Tae have unfinished business but his fashion show is far from the appropriate venue to address it.  In the past, Tae’s everlasting propositions would often bring him to his knees and he knew it well. Behind the curtain of a runway, to the filthy floor of a club bathroom. But that was the past. Jungkook probably doesn’t need to know that part, not when he’s already so annoyed.  “He just had too much to drink,” Jimin clarifies, “it’s fine.”
Jungkook doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scrunches his nose in annoyance. Maybe it’s due to the alcohol, but he presses Jimin closer to himself and fans his breath over the elders ear as he speaks. “You’re not required to stay any longer, right? You did your speech...”
Jimin leans his small body tight to Jungkook, needing to be closer as well, blood warming to his dominant aura. He still feels the white hot stares of neighbouring attendees after the little stunt Taehyung pulled. His stage manager is more than capable of handling the rest of the show, he’s sure of that. If he wants the attention back on the garments and the rest of the show to be a success, it’s best he slips out.
He keeps his voice low enough for only Jungkook to hear — “Get me out of here.”
The words roll off Jimin’s lips, and they’re more than enough for Jungkook to spring into action. A smirk curls on his lips as he stands up, grabbing the elders hand shamelessly.
 “Let’s go, then.”
He tugs the blonde along, scuffing through the crowd. On the way out, his eyes meet Taehyung’s sharp gaze as it flickers between the two men hand in hand. Jungkook flashes him a shit eating grin, knowing Tae would simply have nothing to argue about, especially if he ever wants a slight chance to work with the photographer in the future.
He could forget about it, Kook muses to himself.
He leads Jimin to his car, already on cue to leave at Jungkook's say so. He holds the back door open for his company, letting him get seated before joining inside.
Jimin settles in close as the driver begins to take them away. He’s not sure where they’re going and doesn’t care to ask, content as long as it’s far from prying eyes. He slips his hand under Jungkook’s as he misses the feeling of skin on skin, then looks up at the younger with a small smile on his pouty lips. “Thank you,” he says, mentally musing over the many ways he’d like to show him his gratitude. The way Jungkook took command of that situation wrecks Jimin, to say the least. He can’t blink away the image of Jungkook’s jaw tightening, nose scrunching, or how hot his breath felt like fire against his neck as he asked about Taehyung.
Jungkook shrugs lightly, a small smile on his lips at the simple words of gratitude. It’s cute, the way Jimin suddenly seems to shrink beside him when they’re alone. Apparently an audience makes him cocky, but the one-on-one moments together make him look almost... innocent . The duality is exactly why Jungkook feels such a strong pull towards him. The car slowly pulls through a large gated area, turning into a driveway next to a grand mansion. Kook doesn’t wait for the chauffeur to open the door and simply does so himself without a word, waiting for the elder to follow. He hasn’t bothered asking Jimin if he wants to go with him to his home. Then again, Jungkook often does whatever he pleases.
Jimin follows him obediently, noting that perhaps chivalry isn’t dead. He hasn’t had a man open a door for him unless he was paid or obligated to do so. He nods in thanks and marvels at the house he’s about to step into. Just from the outside, it’s beautiful and meticulously landscaped.
“Is this all yours?” Jimin asks, mouth slightly parted in awe. He’s considered himself to be well off for his age, but the younger man takes it to the next level.
Jungkook cranes his neck to observe his house, giving a light nod before he strolls towards the grand front door, fumbling in his pockets to fish out the keys. “All mine.” His lips twitch in a smile, glancing over the shoulder at the blonde.  Kook remembers buying his house — the excitement back then was comparable to that of a child on christmas. However, with time, material things grew worthless. In a sense, he’s used to it all, but seeing Jimin’s admiration sparks a pride — an appreciation for his own wealth, perhaps. “Wanna come inside?” he asks cheekily, as if that wasn’t already the plan.
Jimin nods again and follows him in. It isn’t normal by any stretch to have as much self-built notoriety and materialistic gain before the age of 30... or any age, really. It makes him even more curious to know the young photographer. It’s not the fame or fortune that draws him in; it’s the reminder that Jeon Jungkook, GJK-branded icon, photographer to the stars, is also the milk-sipping boy with manners and a childlike glimmer in his eye. What a conundrum, Jimin thinks. His eyes flick to Jungkook’s ass as he walks through the grand doors, noting for the first time just how toned it is. A very...alluring conundrum.  
Tonight may be the night he discovers even more about the semi-mysterious younger man. He’s almost jittery with anticipation, wondering what he has in store for their evening together.
The doors automatically close behind them — the loud click of the lock echoes in the hallway as Jungkook slowly saunters towards the open space of the living room, gesturing towards the couch to offer Jimin a seat. Kook paces through the room to reach the open kitchen, stepping behind the only thing separating the two rooms — a large marbled counter, which frames the space deemed a kitchen. He opens the fridge and scans his various beverages with a hum.
Yes, he has a fridge solemnly dedicated to drinks...
“Want something to drink? I have alcohol, soda, energy drinks...even bananamilk. You liked that, right?” Kook’s oddball mind almost craves to mix alcohol with his favorite sweet drink. It could be the best of both worlds, as a kids show once told him.
Already three cosmos into the night, Jimin decides to stray from the sweet side of the flavor spectrum, at least until he’s a little more drunk.
“I did like the banana milk...” he’s almost tempted to take him up on the offer just knowing how pleased Jungkook would be by the decision, but no, he needs something that will make him a little more... uninhibited . He taps his fingers against his chin in thought, taking a seat on the big couch. “I’ll take a glass of wine. Red, if you have it.”
Jungkook hums as he crouches to the bottom of the fridge. His stack of unopened wine bottles is finally coming to use as he doesn’t normally drink wine too often himself. He supposes he can indulge in some as well. “Does the brand matter?” Kook asks, but not really waiting for an answer before he picks one that he remembers getting as a gift from... well , he doesn’t remember. All he knows is it’s of decent quality. Pricey, to say the least.  The bottles clonk together as he grabs the one he thinks fits Jimin best, forgetting about his craving for the milk as he returns to the couch with the large bottle and two glasses in hand. “If you want anything specific I can always have it delivered.” He murmurs as he places the glasses down and pulls up his sleeves to open the bottle with a pop. Pop is also an accurate description of what the veins in his hands did as he works the cork out of the bottle neck.
Jimin cannot help the gravitational pull he has towards hands, especially those that do hard work and reflect the fruits of their labor. When Jungkook raises his sleeves, it’s the first time Jimin gets a look at the tattoos that wrap around one arm and down his long fingers. He watches as Jungkook uncorks the bottle and swipes his tongue across his lips to wet them. “Thanks for the offer,” he says quietly, too engrossed in the task at hand. “I’m sure we have everything we need right here.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows tightly draw together as he focuses on pouring the drink into each glass, having no care for the etiquette of ‘filling halfway.’ No, Jungkook fills the glasses until the transparent material is completely red, seeing no reason in being stingy with the drink. When satisfied, he places the bottle on the table and sits down to hand Jimin his overfilled glass while treating himself to the same. He wastes no time in taking a large gulp as he’s not the kind to ‘savor the taste.’
Jimin watched the process and throughout and thought how cute it was that he didn't know how to pour wine. It was just another moment Jimin savoured as unexpected yet endearing.  He follows Jungkook’s lead and greedily gulps down a mouthful of the dry merlot. He can tell it’s expensive because it drinks like water and bursts with fruity flavour. He takes another gulp and already feels his alcohol levels rise.
“What do you do around here for fun?” Jimin asks, looking around the room.
Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with excitement at the question, quickly pointing towards the large TV hanging on the wall. “I like video games…” He takes another gulp of his wine, already having downed most of it. He feels the alcohol loosening him up a bit with cheeks a hue of red, puffing up with a smile. “Do you play?”
Jimin swivels to look at the TV and surveys the gaming setup. There’s no doubt the photographer likes to indulge his interests given he owns every console imaginable.  He stands with his wine, drinking it steadily as he walks over to the selection of games.
“I’ve played Overwatch before,” he notes, plucking the game and walking it back to Jungkook. “But I won’t go easy on you, Jeon.” He smirks, holding eye contact. He wraps his full lips around the rim of the glass to polish off the rest of his wine, even braver than he was a second ago. “In fact, let’s make this interesting.” His confidence is back in full swing. “Weaker player has to do whatever the other wants, no questions asked.”
Jungkook’s fingers curl around the gamecase — the small pull on his lips quickly turn into a playful smirk at the elders' words. “You won’t go easy on me ?” His smirk morphs, surprised by Jimin’s challenge. He quickly closes his mouth, processing his words as the alcohol amplifies his curiosity about all the possible outcomes of when he wins. Because, obviously, there’s no way Jimin could beat him in overwatch. “Oh... really? ” Jungkook purrs as he stands up, stepping closer to the blonde until their chests merely graze together. His warm breath fans Jimin’s face as he waves the game in the air. “Deal...no questions asked.”
Jungkook quirks an eyebrow and wastes no time in turning the game on, then returns to the couch with two controllers and hands one to Jimin. He’s confident, however, a part of him wonders what Jimin would come up with if he did win…
“D-deal,” Jimin repeats softly, blushing. He grips the controller to focus on something tangible. His heart thunders in his chest as Jungkook’s warm breath still lingers on his flesh. “Before we get started,” he slightly slurs and waves his empty glass in the air, feeling loose. “...Refill time?” Overwatch isn’t necessarily the model’s forte but perhaps he can get the upper hand if Jungkook is just a little more inebriated. Not that he’s trying to take advantage…or maybe he is. The opportunity to do whatever he wants with the man, no questions asked? He doesn’t even know where he would start. He almost feels lightheaded by the thought of guiding Jungkook’s tattooed hand to wrap around his throat, punishing him for being indecisive.
Jungkook’s eyes land on the empty glass in Jimin’s hand. …He wants more? One bottle down, and even the younger man can feel that he’s leaning way past tipsy. But , he thinks, what the hell . It’s a night of celebration, after all. Besides, he may not get another chance like this, alone with the gorgeous blonde. There’s no use in wasting it.
“Okay.” He stands up once more to grab another bottle, returning to fill the glasses up to the brim. There isn’t a single bone in Jungkook that can be described as stingy. He’s very generous. “Don’t blame the wine if you lose though,” he slurs out the words and slumps down on the couch. His fingers tightly grip the controller with one hand as he tilts his head back to chug more of his beverage ; throat muscles flexing as he does so.
Who is he kidding? Jimin has never played the game before. Knocking back a large gulp of his drink, he sets the glass aside to focus. It’s already starting; Jungkook eagerly bounces in his seat to kick his ass. Jimin has already accepted defeat—his drunken mind circling the various shenanigans a man like Jungkook could be interested in. He combs a hand through his styled hair and ruffles it, relaxing into the couch.
“Let’s get it,” he smiles, biting down on his lip.
Jungkook’s nose scrunches up in a snort at Jimin’s words, repeating them himself in a breathy laugh — “Let’s get it!”
After not long at all , t he younger isn’t surprised to see that Jimin has no fucking idea what he’s doing. His cocky attitude was simply for show. Kook barely has to try, half-focused on glancing over at the blonde’s reactions and attempts to figure out the game. A small crease forms between Jimin’s eyebrows, so endearing. The pout on his rosey lips is... alluring . With the bet in mind, Jungkook’s mind wanders…
As the game continues on, it becomes very apparent that the blonde is going to lose his own bet. He keeps running into walls and firing at trees. With a frustrated sigh, he releases the controller and lets it flop pathetically in his lap. “The tree moved, I swear!”  To think, he did it to himself. What a fool —he should have chosen something more his speed like Katamari Damacy. He scrambles to pick the controller back up, steadfast in upholding his air of perfection, but it’s too late. …it's time for his punishment.
Jungkook’s toothy smile grows, moreso at the reactions he draws out of the man next to him rather than the actual victory of the game.
“What a dumb tree, huh?” He snickers, putting the controller on the table before turning his whole body towards Jimin, swirling the wine glass in hand. Jungkook rests one arm behind Jimin and leans in real close. “Now, who lost the bet?” He clearly knows, but he really craves hearing it. Call it an ego boost, but hearing the blonde accept his loss in a flustered manner is an incredibly amusing sight.
Swallowing his pride, perhaps a little too easily, Jimin concedes with a light pink blush adorning his cheeks.
“You won, Jeon.” He finishes off the rest of his wine glass and enjoys the floaty euphoric feeling of being out of control but still very present. “Fair and square,” he breathes, inching forward, resting his hands in his lap obediently. “You hold all the power. What would you like me to do?”
‘You hold all the power.’ The words made a shiver run down Jungkook’s spine. It could be innocent, but with the tension between them, that was highly unlikely.
Jungkook’s mind wanders further as his senses amplify and unhinge by the amount of alcohol running through his system. He places his wine glass on the table, now daring to settle his free hand on Jimin’s thigh to give it a soft squeeze. His eyes never waver from the blonde as he tries to draw more reactions from him.
“No questions asked...right?”
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© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.
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cheri-translates · 4 years
Text
[CN] Fireworks Event - Kiro
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
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Previous section: here
3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here 
Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:
Question 1: Without thinking of any external reasons, if you were to visit the amusement park again, which attraction would Miss Chips want to experience the most?
Option A: Rollercoaster! I think this attraction really alleviates stress.
Option B: Hehehe, the haunted house should be given a name.
Option C: The dessert store! There are so many delicious foods in the amusement park.
-
Question 2: 
Question: To Miss Chips, what is an essential element in a “perfect day”?
Option A: For you to be as romantic as in a fairytale.
Option B: For people to witness the most romantic moment. [no footage found]
-
[ PART ONE PROLOGUE ]
Time truly passes when one is having fun. In a blink of an eye, the night has already overtaken the sky.
I look at the guide map in my hands, thinking about which attraction should end our itinerary for today’s carnival.
Suddenly, Kiro grabs my hand. 
Kiro: Let’s go!
MC: Have you thought of what we’re going to do last?
Kiro: Haven’t we already decided this since a long time ago~
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[ Option A: Rollercoaster! I think this attraction really alleviates stress. ]
At night, the tracks of the rollercoaster are full of coloured lights. From afar, it looks like a dream-like track hanging in the sky.
It suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it. 
Kiro: This time, we can enjoy the pleasures of the rollercoaster to our heart’s content!
He offers his hand to me, eyes sparkling despite being in the curtain of darkness.
MC: It’s the first time I’m riding a rollercoaster at night!
We’re seated in the last row, gradually climbing towards the peak. Our entire field of vision consists of the night and neon.
Kiro: MC, do you know about the legend related to rollercoasters?
MC: Do you create stories that quickly? We just sat on it.
Kiro: Nonsense, I was already thinking about it when we were in the queue!
MC: ...
Kiro: ...
Kiro suddenly clears his throat, his fingers making twirls in the air in a counterclockwise direction. Then, he lets out a soft “ding” sound.
Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know about the legend related to rollercoasters?
MC: Pfft.
Cooperating with him, I pretend to look contemplative. 
MC: There are sayings related to rollercoasters?
Kiro: Hmph. Not everyone knows about this legend, because it’s only used for rollercoasters at night, and when you’re seated at the last row.
MC: Ah! What else?
Kiro: The rollercoaster will take 55 seconds from the moment it leaves the peak. If you have any wishes you’d like fulfilled, say it silently in your heart, then hold your breath. As long as you can press on till the end, this wish will be fulfilled. 
MC: Isn’t the original setting in an elevator?
Kiro: Any similarities are mere coincidences. We’re reaching the peak soon. So? Want to give it a try?
MC: This legend has yet to be put to the test.
Looking at his sparkling eyes, I can’t help but want to tease him.
Kiro: You don’t trust me! But that’s okay, I can prove its success rate to you first.
With this, he closes his eyes, and I have no idea what wish he’s making.
Neon colours fall on his eyelashes, making his side profile look especially handsome.
Kiro: Done. 
We’re about to reach the peak. Kiro grips my hand, his face filled with anticipation and eagerness.
Kiro: Let’s go!
MC: Ahh--!
--
Kiro: Haa... haa...
Kiro is breathing in as much fresh air as he can, and I can’t help but laugh while looking at his flushed face.
MC: You’ve worked hard. From the bottom of my heart, I hope your wish can be fulfilled. 
Kiro: Are you secretly laughing at me? Don’t be envious when my wish comes true.
MC: What did you wish for just now?
Kiro: What I wished for...
He turns his eyes to me, then leans downwards slightly such that his face is in front of mine. He closes his eyes gently.
Kiro: I wonder if the intelligent MC can guess what it is.
MC: You’re just being unreasonable!
Kiro: I’m not. Maybe this is the result of my hard work from earlier?
Looking at the person before me who’s pretending to be innocent, I find it quite ticklish.
With a flushed face, I give the corner of his lips a light peck. He seems to have waited for a very long time. Just as I plan to flee, he pulls me back, once again locking me in a trance.
Kiro: Look - I said the legend was effective. You believe it now, don't you?
-
[ Option B: Hehehe, the haunted house should be given a name. ]
At night, the haunted house looks even more terrifying than usual. The gloomy and cold lights seem to be waiting for challengers to arrive. 
Looking at the slightly tense Kiro beside me, it suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it.
Kiro: Miss Chips, let’s go!
MC: Actually, it’s okay even if we don’t go for this...
Kiro: It’s all right.
He pats his chest confidently, pushing his sunglasses down with one hand. 
Kiro: This time, I came prepared.
-
In the narrow, strange and long corridor, Kiro and I walk unhurriedly, following the directions of the arrows.
Kiro: This is the third time we’ve come to a haunted house, isn’t it? 
MC: Yup. It seems like we always have memories of running wildly in haunted houses. 
Kiro: In that case, let’s walk slowly this time, and slowly enjoy the delights of the haunted house. 
Just as he finishes speaking, a bloodied handprint appears on the paper door at the side with a thud.
MC: !
Before I can rally my emotions, continuous streams of ghost-like cries drift from the paper door beside us. 
Kiro holds my hand, scanning the surroundings “coldly”---
From an unknown place, Kiro takes out a gigantic white sheet, covering it over us.
Kiro: If we can’t beat then, let’s join them!!
MC: Pfft!
Kiro wraps me in his arms. His breath is at my ear, which gives me an especially ticklish sensation in my heart. 
Kiro: See? It’s no longer scary, isn’t it? When we hear sounds, we’ll simply return fire!
Passerby couple: Erm...
Kiro: [ghostly] Mmm...?
Kiro and I turn around at the same time.
Passerby couple: Ahhhh----!!!!!!
After a short silence, I lift up my head, and just so happen to meet Kiro’s lowered gaze. 
Kiro: [chuckles] Even though I feel a little bad, but...
We burst into laughter at the same time. The white sheet seems to be a small protective screen, making us the only two people in the entire world, becoming our secret accomplice. 
Kiro: I’ve finally found a way to decode the haunted house!
MC: Next time, why don’t we...
Kiro: Be the ghosts!
We complete each others’ sentences as always. 
Kiro: This way, it doesn’t feel scary at all.
MC: You’ve got a good method~
Kiro: The method is one aspect of it. The other aspect is because you’re with me. Frightening things will always be frightening, and courage isn’t something that can be added or subtracted. 
MC: But won’t you become braver after going through it more often and having more experience?
Kiro: That’s called getting used to it and growing up. It doesn’t mean you’re no longer scared. It’s because there are other things which triumph over the fear.
His voice is very soft, and his eyes turn from the view outside the sheet to me.
Kiro: For example, right now. 
MC: It’s all right even if you’re scared. I’m here, and you aren’t alone!
Kiro: In that case, could I come nearer to you?
As he says this, he takes a step closer.
MC: [blushing] The staff would laugh at us if they see this...
Kiro: That’s fine. 
His lips are at my ear, bringing with them a smile of someone who has gotten his way.
Kiro: No one will see us.
-
[ Option C: The dessert store! There are so many delicious foods in the amusement park. ]
At night, the dessert store looks even more well-lit. The adorable decor, together with the colourful neon lights, are reminiscent of the sweetest kiss of a couple.
It suddenly occurs to me that the seemingly insignificant question he asked a few days ago actually had a reason behind it.
MC: Doesn't this place require a reservation? 
He smiles while talking out two reservation coupons from his pocket, a satisfied look on his face. 
Kiro: Hehe. It’s been a long wait, my Miss Chips. 
I scan the various limited edition couple desserts on the menu, each one of them looking utterly delicious, as though I can smell their sweet fragrance just from the pictures.
In the end, I decide to pick the dessert which Kiro is recommending whole-heartedly and with great force--
The double lava layer chocolate brownie.
Kiro: Trust me, this is the one. I’ve done a recon before, and found the most premium product from these premium products.
Under his solemn gaze, the double lava layer chocolate brownie is brought to our table. 
It looks like a chocolate brownie with some frosting sprinkled on it, and seems to be pretty normal.
Kiro: Give it a try! I haven’t forgotten its taste even till now.
I cut it open gently, and discover that underneath the chocolate exterior, there’s a soft chocolate cake. Chocolate sauce in the centre flows out slowly.
Cutting a small piece carefully, I place it into my mouth.
In a mere instant, my throat, nose, and even the air I inhale, are all sweet. 
The strong sweetness sweeps through all my senses. My tongue goes haywire, and it’s as though I'm biting into a hundred macarons at the same time. 
Kiro sits opposite me, his eyebrows arching slightly, an insuppressible anticipation and teasing look in his eyes. 
He has also prepared a guilty and apologetic look. 
I see through it immediately.
MC: Not bad. As expected of your recommendation!
Kiro: Hm? 
MC: It’s really delicious.
While saying this, I lift up the fork again, preparing to get another piece. 
Kiro: Wait wait wait! 
He immediately grabs my hand, his face filled with disbelief. Looking at me, he lowers his head and stares at the “scheme”.
Kiro: The taste is just right?
MC: Yeah, it is. Weren't you the one who recommended it?
Kiro: Well... you’re not wrong.
He looks at the brownie on the table hesitantly. He’s probably guessing that the store had changed its method of preparation, resulting in a different effect. 
At this moment, it’s a showdown between Kiro the glutton and reason. 
Slowly, he picks up the fork, and brings a small piece into his mouth.
Kiro: [groans] !!!
I immediately grab the lemon water at the side, flushing my ruined taste buds. 
Kiro: You...!
His features are scrunched, and I can't help but laugh when I see this. 
Kiro: Although I did it somewhat on purpose, you really endured it too well!
MC: Seeing this image before me is worth it hahaha.
Kiro: I’m letting you experience the wrong path I once walked on.
Saying this, he comes over to my side.
Kiro: If I’m at fault, you should have punished me by using the law! Not by killing me with this sickeningly sweet dessert!
MC: If you went down the wrong path, you shouldn’t have let others experience it either!
Kiro: But you’re special. I’ve suffered twice the harm and need treatment. 
MC: Mr Kiro, you’re insatiable. 
Despite saying this, I don't stop him when he slowly draws closer to me.
Kiro: [chuckles] All I need is a little normal sweetness. 
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[ PART TWO ]
By the time we return to the vicinity of the castle in the plaza, the fireworks display is about to begin.
Considering Kiro’s special situation, his wig and props have more or less finished serving their function. I decide to find a location with fewer people.
But suddenly...
I realise that Kiro is gone.
Scanning my surroundings, I just can’t find any trace of him.
??: Beautiful Miss Princess, what are you looking at?
I freeze.
As the fireworks from the castle continuously scuttle to the skies, I see a figure at the end of the light.
At the top of the castle, he’s wearing a white coloured suit. His white cape is flying in the night, and an exquisite white mask conceals his entire face.
Just like the phantom thief under the moonlight.
Passerby: Is that a performance?
MC: Ki-!
Akin to magic, he soars downwards, stepping through the night, his cape kneading the moonlight as it flaps up and down, descending before me.
Wearing a pair of white gloves, he reaches out and places his forefinger on my lips.
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Kiro: Shh.
The entire world seems to have become silent in an instant, leaving behind only the sound of my violently beating heart.
He takes half a step back, his left hand behind him, giving me a slight bow while offering his right hand to me.
Kiro: Beautiful Miss Princess, are you willing to come with me?
A pair of sapphire-like eyes hide behind the mask, leaving me unable to see his expression.
Seeing the arm he’s holding out in mid-air, I grip his hand without hesitation.
MC: It would be my honour!
Once the words leave my lips, he wraps an arm around my waist and carries me up, bringing me into the deep blue ocean.
Kiro: Hold me tight.
He presses a special mechanism, and strings pull the both of us upwards, as though we’re treading on moonlight.
When we reach the roof of the castle, he lets me step onto the bricks steadily, then removes the mask from his face.
Kiro: The performance has begun.
He snaps his fingers. At the same time, all the fireworks in the night sky bloom.
[ FIREWORKS ]
-
The colour I had selected is especially brilliant, and it blooms under Kiro’s command.
It’s as though he's standing in the middle of the stage, and every firework is a musical instrument under his control. With his guidance, they become the most beautiful musical composition in the night sky.
I think about that question related to a perfect day, and a him who is as romantic as in a fairytale.
As the fireworks come to an end, he once again gives me a bow, and walks towards me.
Kiro: I wish to ask my princess if the me of right now has the qualifications to steal your heart?
MC: [blushing] Haven’t you already stolen it since a long time ago?
Kiro: Is that so?
Under the moonlight of this winter day, his fringe is damp with sweat, and his eyes are filled with surprise.
Kiro: In that case, I won’t be returning it. Anyway, my heart happens to be with you too. Happy third anniversary, my Miss Chips.
Even the most precious day has to come to an end.
But the meaning residing in the future, which is the time we have next, will definitely be even more wonderful, and even more precious.
Until the end of life.
MC: Let’s go home!
Kiro: Mm! Let’s go home.
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Text
i. Not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd (MARLENE)
The crowds were not at all a surprise to Marya and Hélène as they made their way to the centre of the carnival. Children screamed from all sides of the open lot in pure glee and joy, couples strolled hand in hand from one game booth to another and there were numerous queues that led to the many different attractions. The lights that shone from the rides blanketed the area in rays of yellow, pink and orange as though twilight had come to a pause, disallowing the sun to bring the day to an end. There were no clouds or stars in the sky but the vibrant glow of the carnival that obscured the deep night sky. One would be able to hear the very typical jolly circus music or the rumble of the rollercoaster over the shrieks of the children if they strained their ears enough. It was simply an orchestra of chaos. The day was still young and entering the carnival would only mean endless fun until it was decided to return home.
It was a pleasant evening on what had been a terribly dull Saturday and it had been Hélène’s idea to visit the carnival that she had come across on a random advertisement after much scrolling on her phone. So here they were, standing by a food stall with a corndog each in hand. Hélène had already finished hers but Marya was struggling to consume the greasy thing. With so many plans in mind, it was difficult for Hélène to settle on which attraction to try out first but seeing how slowly Marya was eating that corndog, she still had time.
“Where to first?” Hélène asked with the largest grin.
Taking a bite of the corndog, Marya fought back a grimace. “Perhaps something simple like… the Hall of Mirrors in that sinister looking funhouse.”
“That isn’t too bad for a start,” Hélène mused as she tapped her chin.
“It’s only a walkthrough attraction. I don’t think my stomach will be very forgiving if we began with something vigorous,” Marya stated pointedly as she discarded the remainder of her stick of grease.
Hélène clapped her hands in delight. “Then it’s settled~ Come on! The line might grow if we don’t get there fast enough.”
“Please, don’t run. You just ate.”
And Hélène took off jogging towards the strange architecture of a building that they called the ‘Funhouse’. Marya took her time to get there. Once Hélène found a spot in the queue, Marya could simply join in since that woman showed no signs of slowing down or even an ounce of patience. Not that Marya could blame her for her child-like excitement. She adored seeing Hélène so happy and to be able to share this moment of joy with her, all Marya could do was shake her head and sigh in contentment.
As she walked, she realized that the crowds were growing denser. The further they went into the carnival, the more people there were and she was losing sight of Hélène. Marya tiptoed to search for the curly-headed woman over the many heads that were in her way but to no avail. She could try calling out to her but her voice would only be drowned out. Being the only one static in the traffic, she was pushed and shoved far too much to her discomfort so she began to walk towards the funhouse. While she trudged through the haze of people, her eyes darted from one place to another in search for Hélène. What if she was not at the funhouse? What if she had gotten lost as well and they would have to spend the rest of the night searching for each other? This was not how she wanted the night to go!
She should have stopped her wandering gaze when she spotted the circus tent. Where there were tents, there were clowns and they were beings that Marya could not bear to bring herself to meet. After a much too traumatic incident with her siblings at a young age, she never would have thought it would come to haunt her to this day. Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched them, and she turned her eyes away to stare at her feet as she walked. It did not matter where she went. She just wanted to resurface to safety where she could dial Hélène on the phone to ask of her whereabouts. It was easy as that. However, the walk seemed to go on forever and her ears were ringing. She was stronger than this; she knew that! But with how overwhelming everything became it was suffocating her.
A hand reached out to grab her wrist and her head snapped up to identify the person. Was it the clown she saw a couple of minutes ago at the tent whose make-up looked far from friendly? Was it a lost child who needed help like she did? Her hands were balled so tightly into fists, her knuckles turned white and crescent shapes were pressed into her flesh. She was shepherded away from the traffic and to a hidden corner between to stalls where it was surprisingly more quiet than when they were exposed to the bright lights. When she saw who it was, it was neither the scenarios she had imagined.
“Marya, ma belle? Are you okay?” Hélène had pressed her hands against her cheeks, concern laced in her features.
Marya nodded vaguely. “I’m fine. I couldn’t find you and the noise was getting me all distraught. And I saw a clown.”
“A clown? That got you worked up?” Hélène snorted but immediately regretted it when she saw the solemn look that clouded Marya’s grey hues. “Oh… You’re… Oh- I’m so sorry. I-I thought you were kidding.”
“It’s fine. Nobody knows about this,” Marya managed with a shrug.
“Well, I will protect you. If a clown dares to show his face, I am more than ready to throw hands,” Hélène declared and she readied herself in a mock fighting stance which elicited a laugh from Marya.
“You’re truly a sweetheart, my dear.”
“I know~”
Hélène grasped Marya’s hand tightly and wrapped herself around her arm in a secured hold so that she did not lose her a second time. Guiding the redhead through a few deep breaths, Hélène re-entered the sea of strangers. She gave Marya specific instructions to duck her head or close her eyes when she nudged her side for it meant there was a clown in sight. Since Marya was the taller one, she would be the one getting the ‘best’ view of the clown which was certainly the last thing they wanted. Hélène was rather skilled at navigating her way through carnival even though she could only see right above a person’s shoulder. Seeing the funhouse in the distance was enough for her to know where she was headed and she continued walking straight.
She could feel Marya trembling by her side and her grip was crushing her hand. Hélène drew circles into the palm of Marya’s hand to stop her from breaking into her skin and to soothe her nerves, both of which seemed to have an effect to a certain extent. Marya had ceased in her trembling and she found the courage to straighten her back and stare straight ahead at their destination. Never mind the clowns around them. She would make it through without looking like a complete idiot who was terrified of clows that were surrounded by happy children. It was not a big deal to be made of.
Eventually they made it but Marya did not release her hand. She only held on tighter and Hélène leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. A lovely reward for the end of her pains, not that it lasted since she had Hélène by her side. For the sake of her dignity, she put on a brave face and mustered a smile for Hélène who beamed.
“You wouldn’t mind if I held your hand throughout”-
“Not at all, ma belle. I’m always here for you,” Hélène reassured her. “You can stop me from walking into the glass walls.”
“You silly minx. Just don’t run, alright? Or we’ll both run into a wall together.”
“Can’t make any promises~”
(And you must be wondering, did they both crashed into a wall? Yes, a total of two times. One from Marya’s overconfidence and the other from Hélène’s carelessness)
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angelguk · 5 years
Text
→ bad behaviour — a namjoon scenario
member: kim namjoon (rm)
word count: 3.7k
genre: early relationship + smut +fluff +college!au
warnings: public sex / handjob / blowjob in a bathroom / just a lot of feels in this fic / yes this is the namjoon from the bring the soul commentary i wanted to swallow his dick when i saw him / size kink / praise kink / namjoon has a big dick / technically the prerequisite for the parents!au im dropping next week / repost because tumblr deleted the whole thing :/
soundtrack: easy, camila cabello
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It’s stupid, how quickly you fall for Kim Namjoon. There’s a strange giddiness swimming in your guts as you wait for him outside the cinema. You can’t help but bounce on the balls of your feet, palms warm and sweaty with nerves. Which doesn’t make any sense. This is your fifth date now, Namjoon wasn’t a stranger to you anymore. But it’d been a week since you’d last seen him - a long torturous week. It’s weird, how quickly he’d wormed his way into your mind. The ‘I bet Namjoon would like this’ thoughts were becoming increasingly frequent. You should be alarmed - you hadn’t fallen for a person so quickly like this since high school. But you’re not - because it’s Namjoon. 
There’s a blooming in your chest when you spot him meandering down the street. He’s so damn tall, it’s intimidating actually, moving with quick sure steps and towering over nearly everyone. Your heart drops to your stomach when he catches your gaze. There’s an easy smile on his lips that slowly spreads the closer he gets. You can’t seem to look away, a strange tingle sweeping from your heart to your core. How he makes you feel dizzy with just a smile is beyond you.
“Hi,” He says, tucking his phone in the pocket of his black shorts. It’s hot out, and as a consequence his thighs and burly arms are visible, thick muscles flexing beneath golden skin. It’s enticing and you bet Namjoon isn’t even aware of that. Your palms burn with the need to touch but you hold yourself back, choosing instead to swing your arms around his neck and pull his body against yours. The press of his hard chest makes something settle in your stomach. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed him until he was right there before you.
“Hi,” You mumble into his shirt, the cool metal of his silver necklace pressing against your cheek. “Missed you.” He sighs in response, pressing you against him with a deft push of his large palm against the small of your back. Your heart swoops into your stomach. His chin is resting on your head a beat later and you nearly sway with how right it feels to have Namjoon holding you close, surrounding you with his presence.
“Missed you too.” He whispers, running his fingers down your spine. You practically melt, nerves tingling from the slight touch. It takes you awhile to pull apart, your heart beating like the wings of a wild bird trapped in the cage of your ribs. When you glance up, Namjoon is staring at your with that gaze, eyes soft and warm like he can’t believe you’re real. 
It’s good to know that the feeling is mutual, because you can’t believe Namjoon is real either. 
“We should go inside,” He says, but he doesn’t move, hands still clinging onto your waist.
“Mhm, we should.” You pull away because it evident that Namjoon won’t. The small frown between his eyebrows when you do makes you want to burrow yourself back into his chest and never leave. You smile instead and lace your fingers into his. There’s a squeeze from his large hand when it encompasses yours, sending a small thrill through your body. Namjoon is so damn big and it makes you feel so protected and cared for. Again, it’s stupid how quickly you’ve fallen for Kim Namjoon.
“You look good,” You comment, as you step into the cool building with your hands entwined. And it’s true, he does, effortlessly so - sun kissed thighs and arms on display and silver accessories complimenting his outfit. His hair is hidden by a cap, but you can still see the little tufts of russet hair peeking out. You want to run your hands through his locks but you clamp down on that desire quickly.
“So do you,” He returns, cheeks tinged rose. You’re suddenly glad you wore that unnecessarily short summer dress today. The floral fabric comes to an end just beyond your ass and if you bend forward even the slightest, the whole world would a great view of your behind. It’s wouldn’t be such a bad thing, especially if Namjoon has a front row seat.
He cuts your reverie short when he yanks you by the hand, pushing your body flush against the side of his chest and snaking his arm around your waist. You’re about to protest, core throbbing with how stupidly strong Namjoon is, but then he starts talking, mumbling about this and that as you stand in the queue together and your lips clamp shut. It’s calming, hearing him moan about class projects and talk in detail about literary ideas that you can’t wrap your head around for the life of you. But you listen intently anyway, lending your ear to him because Namjoon had disclosed in you a while ago how he felt no one ever really listened to him when he talked. You’d do it for him, if no one else would. It’s oddly important for you to make sure that Namjoon’s knows you care, because you do, a lot more than you’re willing to admit to yourself.
He’d chosen the movie, something based on a novel - technically research for his literature class because they were studying it anyway. Namjoon claims that although watching a movie on a book can be helpful, you can’t just base your essay on that - reading it is a vital part of the process. You call bullshit on that because you absolutely aced your final paper on The Great Gatsby despite having read the book never and watching the movie five times. He’s on a high horse because he’s the top student but you let him live when he sends you a soft glare. It’s adorable really, how defensive he gets over books.
You know the movie is going to be boring, but you don’t care. What matters is that you get to watch it with Namjoon. He also offers to buy the tickets. You let him because he wants too. You cover the popcorn and snacks (there’s a dozen packets of sweets in your purse because cinemas charge too much for them for your broke college budget). His nose scrunches in disdain when you order your popcorn buttered. You poke his chest in retaliation and remind him he eats raw ramen. He immediately pipes down after that, his hand returning to yours as you walk towards room A3 and let the guard at the door rip your tickets.
You pick a seat towards the back, away from the few other people who’d walked in after you. You’d expected it to be nearly empty - who in their right mind was watching this movie at four in the afternoon apart from Namjoon and his fellow literary nerds?
It takes you about thirty minutes to get bored. 
The popcorn tastes flat in your mouth, Namjoon has somehow decimated through the sweets you’d snuggled in and your slushy was practically empty. That’s when your imagination starts to wander, pulling an image from crevices of your mind. You’d stored this memory away carefully, reconstructed as best as you can because you were incredibly drunk that day. But you can still feel it, the press of Namjoon’s body over yours in Yoongi’s stuffy car. How hard he was beneath the glide of your hips as you grinded against him. And those harsh little pants that filled the air every time he bucked up into you. You can’t remember who was making the noises but you can, with clarity, remember the weight of Namjoon’s hands on your waist as he guided your movements. And how pretty he looked, eyes glazed and lips plush. You can’t help the clenching of your walls when you think about, or the slick that seeps out from you. 
The knock of Namjoon’s knee against yours makes the vision vanish, your eyes gliding over to him. He’s not paying you any attention, eyes fixed on the screen. How he looks glorious, pale white light washing over his concentrated face, doesn’t make any sense. You shouldn’t find this so hot, but you do, a heat building in your gut when he raises a contemplative hand to his chin. His knee knocks against yours again and you blame that for how your gaze falters to his legs. They’re wide apart, his shorts riding up dangerously close to his crotch. The position makes his skin taut, muscles bulging from their hold and leaving hard lines along his thighs. The heat in your gut turns into a wildfire and you don’t think anymore, nestling in as close as possible despite the stupid arm rest between you. It digs into your ribs but the pain melts away when Namjoon flashes you a quick smile, dimples dipping in his cheek.
You decide then, not to give a damn.
His eyes are wide when you cup his chin and gently pull him towards your lips. He tastes like sugar and cocoa, remnants of the chocolate he’d retrieved from your bag at the start of the movie. You can’t help but press your tongue against his mouth, a pleased sigh escaping your own when he parts his lips. He lets you slide inside, explore to your heart's content, his tongue pliant to your movements and hushed moans vibrating from his throat. When you pull away, your lips tingle with the imprint of his mouth and it takes a lot of willpower not to dive back for another kiss.
“What’s that about?” Namjoon questions against your lips, his cheeks flushed and mouth wet. 
“Just wanted to kiss you,” You mumble back, slowly gaining awareness of your surroundings again. It’s only then that you realise that you’re clutching his shirt with a desperation you feel in your gut. 
His eyes glitter. “Mhm, okay. Do it again.”
You comply without a complaint, the sounds of the movie falling on both your deaf ears. Namjoon takes control this time, despite his request, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth that makes a small whimper escape from your throat. His heart thumps under your palm and it takes a lot for you to not clamber onto his lap. Though, Namjoon partially keeps you put with the weight of his hand on your bare thigh. You’re practically vibrating, nerves going haywire with every skip of his fingers against your skin as he moves closer to your panties, where you’re soaking for him.
“Let’s blow this place,” You mutter against his ear when you break away from a moment. He quirks an eyebrow, catching on the obvious innuendo. You’d been skipping around the aspect of sex for awhile now, wanting to take the relationship slow, but you’re beyond ready to do anything for Namjoon’s dick, especially when he kisses you like that.
“What do I get for leaving? I wanted to see this movie.”
“I’ll blow you,” You finally say outright, loving the way his breath hitches and his eyes darken. 
“You could blow me here.” Oh. Oh, you hadn’t expected that and neither had your pussy from the sharp pulse that hits your core. You’d never seen this side of Namjoon ever, and the directness of his demand makes you want to roll over.
“Yeah, I could,” You say, keeping your eyes locked on him. He’s surprised, but you don’t wait for his mouth to open, instead planting your palm right against his crotch. He jolts into it, hard cock pressing into your hand. You hadn’t expected him to be hard either, but Namjoon is rigid and hot under your hold, eliciting a river from your cunt because he’s big too. Fucking huge actually. You can’t help but experimentally squeeze hard at the base of his dick, the skips in Namjoon’s breath tickling down your back. There’s no way you can swallow all of that, you know it. But then when you drag your hand up his clothed cock and Namjoon twitches into your palm, you vehemently want to try.
“You’re hard,” You murmur, stating the obvious because you brain is melting from how thick Namjoon is in your hand.
“Because of you,” He pants back, face burrowed in your neck at an awkward angle. He licks against your skin, tongue warm and wet before the nip of his teeth on your neck has you jerking forward. “That dress is a crime.”
Your skin prickles but you don’t let up on his dick, rubbing through the fabric gently. The urge to flip your skirt up and sit on him is so strong that you nearly give in. A cough in the background halts that idea in its tracks. You play with the band of his shorts instead, glad when Namjoon takes it upon himself to tug at the zip and untuck his cock from his underwear. Your observation from early proves to be correct the moment he springs out from his pants. Namjoon isn’t just huge, he’s massive. You know you’ll feel him in your guts from how much length and girth he’s sporting. It would be really nice to just have him flip you over and drill you from behind - or any position for that matter, as long as he’s inside you.
There’s an ache in your core when you wrap your hands around him. He’s veiny and velvet-like, a little gasp from his throat when your fingers finally come in contact with his skin. It’s juvenile, giving a handjob during a movie. You’re behaving like teenagers who just discovered what secrets a dimmed movie theater can hide. But you work around him regardless, catching the precum leaking from the tip of his cock with the twist of your hand. You glide around him ease, spurred on by the rushed little pants of his that colour the air. He’s got his head digging into the headrest, neck exposed and adam’s apple bobbing with every harsh swallow down his throat. When you lean in to kiss his neck, Namjoon jolts, hips bucking into you hand with need. You can feel him throbbing in your grip, dick twitching with every graze of your palm along his cock.
“Too dry,” He croaks out, lips parted with a barely there moan escaping into the cinema. He’s right, he feels good in your hand but it’s not slick enough for you to rub him off the way you want too.
“Want my mouth?” You innocently ask, stomach flipping when his eyes flash.
“Please,” He mutters, staring at your lips unabashedly. You comply because Namjoon is so damn fine that it’s impossible for you to muster up a no.
He’s hot and heavy against you tongue, cum a little salty but you swallow around him anyway. The angle is awkward and there’s no way you can even attempt to shove him down your throat from your bent over position. Namjoon slides down his seat a little to make it easier, and his cock slips further into your mouth. The warm heat of your tongue against him has his mind blanking for a second. His hips jerk forward slightly, a deep need in his gut to go deeper into your mouth provoking the moment. When you gag a little, Namjoon knees give out. He can’t believe that pretty little mouth of yours is wrapped around his cock, sucking him off with a bunch of strangers in the room. It turns him on more than it should, his eyes suddenly sneaking around to make sure no one is watching.
But then you pull off him with a barely audible pop, sinking back down with fervor and Namjoon sees stars. Your mouth is perfect, lips moulding around the head of his cock and tongue flickering over his slit in a way that makes his thighs tense. Your hand is around the base of his dick again, working the orgasm right out of him. You fingers feel so small around him, a huge contrast to his own large palm and it makes his gut twist. You’re so damn tiny. It makes him want to wrap you up, take care of you, give you everything he has.
His balls must feel the same because his orgasm is approaching faster than he anticipated, despite his jerk off session before he came to meet you. You make him impossibly hard and his head is never really clear around you. Even know his mind is hazy, lost in the waves of pleasure ebbing from his gut with every press of your lips around his length. It’s hard for him to even focus on the movie before him, gaze floating onto your bent over a figure. It’s only then that he notices how your dress is riding up your ass. Your perfect pert ass that he wants to touch all the damn time. Your underwear peeps from beneath the fabric, your wetness creating a damp mark on your light pink panties.
God, you were going to be the death of him.
He bites back the remarks on his tongue. The ‘baby’ that he wants to murmur stuck in his throat. But he can’t help the hand that wonders to the back of your head, gently resting on your hair. There’s a slight push from his palm and your mouth makes a nasty little sound around his dick. He nearly creams down your throat right then, but then you pull away to his dismay, leaving his orgasm sitting heavy in his gut. The cool air hits his dick then, but Namjoon stays rigid because your lips are wet and bruised, covered in his cum, pretty face illuminated by the lights flashing from the screen.
He wants this image burned into his memory. Forever.
“I can’t deep throat you like this,” You whisper. His dick twitches hard at the prospect of being down your throat, mouth pliant for the load he’d give you. “Bathroom?”
“Bathroom.” Namjoon decides immediately, shoving his cock down his pants. You leave the theater in a rush, not missing the suspicious look an elderly couple gives you. But neither of you could bother to care, too overwhelmed with this new found desire for each other.
In the bathroom (the ladies because it’s far cleaner - and practically empty) Namjoon decides his second favourite image ever is you on your knees for him. You look so pretty, mouth open for his cock and your dress sliding down to reveal your cleavage. Every curve of your body is his kryptonite, but your breasts are his greatest weakness. Full and perky, stretch marks running along skin that he aches to put his mouth on. He settles for placing dick in your mouth instead, a groan leaving his chest with your tongue swipes against the head, before you sink down along his length.
It’s easier on your knees, to work Namjoon down your throat, core pulsing with every mumbled curse leaving his lips. He still stretches you mouth wide, and your walls flutter with the thought of Namjoon stretching out your pussy too. The hands around your head pull your back to the present. You glance up to find Namjoon staring down at you with adoration, a light sheen of sweat building along his neck. 
“Fuck, baby. You take my dick so well.” You swallow hard around him at that, spurred on by the praise. “Ngh - fuck - that’s it, open your pretty mouth for me.” You do, sinking down another inch and Namjoon shudders when the heat of your mouth encloses around him. You preen, hand coming to clutch at his trembling thighs. “God - shit! I’m gonna cum - oh fuck!” He pants out, pink tongue dragging over his lips. “Want me to cum down your throat, baby?”
You nod as best as you can, licking a fat stripe along his dick that has Namjoon convulsing. thighs tense. His hips stutter forward, mouth parted and sinful gasp leaving his lips as he spills down your throat. You don’t mind his taste and swallow with no complaint. It’s a lot but you push it down anyways, pussy leaking at the thought of his thick load spilling inside your cunt instead.
Namjoon pulls away breathless, dick growing flaccid in the cool air of the bathroom. His eyes are squeezed shut, a shudder slithering down his spine. When he cracks them opinion, his gaze land on your tongue sneaking out to swipe the spurt of cum that’d landed on your lips. His dick throbs back to life when he realises you’ve swallowed.
You don’t expect to pulled up from the floor like that, Namjoon’s harding dick pressed against your stomach as he leans down and slips his tongue into you mouth. He kisses you like you’re the only tether keeping him grounding, mouth working you open with need. He doesn’t hold back on the little nips and bites that you’d grown to love about his kisses. His mouth is soft but direct, like he’s trying to tell you something that he hasn’t figured out the words for yet. It makes you feel like you’re glowing. And Namjoon holds you like you’re the damn Sun. He cradles you gently, hands on your waist as he maps out your mouth, the taste of him on both of your tongues. You decide there and then that he is The One.
“I’m going to marry you,” You say, when you part for air. It’s a slip of the tongue and you’re immediately mortified. It’s far too early to say shit like that. You’d only just sucked his dick for the first time. You expect Namjoon to eye you warily, but he laughs instead, his chuckle vibrating in your chest, pulling you closer. It’s ridiculous because here’s a marriage proposal in the bathroom stall of a cinema. His dick is out and his shorts are on the floor. Ridiculous, yet perfect. 
“The sentiment is mutual.” He whispers against your lips. 
Your heart explodes with an emotion you're afraid to name just yet. But it’s there, fluttering in your chest with joy.
“You’re saying that because I just sucked your dick,” You retort, cheeks hot with your embarrassment.
Namjoon pecks your nose before pulling away to yank back on his shorts. “Partially true. Want to go back to my place so you can cum on my tongue?”
Your whole body sighs, panties drenched at the prospect of Namjoon taking you apart with that wide tongue of his. “God, yes.”
He grins at that, that bright perfect smile gracing his lips and that fluttering feeling in your heart, turns into a full fledged gust of wind that hits your chest and knocks you breathless.
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