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floralseokjin · 5 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She��s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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bokoutoe-retired · 4 years ago

Text

— #43 “i love you to the moon and back” & #44 “you’re stealing the blankets”

characters; gojo satoru, gn! reader, ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nobara kugisaki

synopsis; working at jujutsu tech comes with it’s risks, but with your husband at your side you think everything will turn out just fine

total w/c; 1475

warnings; canon-typical violence, blood, major injury, hospitals, iv’s, uhhh, non-canon timeline ig? i haven’t read the manga so i apologize for any inaccuracies about how curses and jujutsu sorcery works

「a/n」 thank you to @construct-witchlyght for requesting!! i’m so sorry it took so long but i actually really had fun writing this and i feel good about it! hope you enjoy it <3

being a counselor at jujutsu tech never really meant just being a counselor. sometimes it means being a teacher and instructing a couple classes, other times it means getting called out for exorcisms. despite your job title, it’s shockingly rare you get the chance to actually, you know, be a counselor.

and this was certainly not one of those times. the grade 2 curse you, itadori, fushiguro, and kugisaki are currently dealing with is not relenting. whatsoever. it’s attacks are quick, fast, and calculated. the four of you have done a good job avoiding them so far, but you're not sure how much longer you can keep it up. both you and itadori are hustling to land your blows, slowly chipping away at the almost overwhelming defenses of the curse. nearby fushiguro’s shikigami are working in rhythm with the flying nails of kugisaki’s hammer to take out the weird army of cursed goonies the grade 2 has. they’re not powerful by any means but their numbers add up. the two first years are doing a good job of dwindling their forces

the fight drags on and on, hit after hit, and dodge after dodge, it’s tiresome but necessary. by some miracle, there’s a glimpse of the end as yuuji lands a hearty punch on one of the chins of the curses many mouths. as it makes contact it’s accompanied by a loud, resounding clap, the cursed energy packed behind the hit leaves the air of the abandoned warehouse buzzing. the powerful attack brings the curse down to its last legs, yet it’s still angry, and determined to take you all out. you glance over to check on the other pair, and see they’re exorcising the final lackey.

‘good, they’re safe now’ you think, but you’re allowed only a mere moment of relief before your attention is directed back to itadori and the grade 2. itadori is still stumbling from the blowback of his own power as the curse lets out a booming roar and you see it gear up for an attack with the sharp claws on one of its four arms. he’s stumbling right into the claws’ path and doesn’t have nearly enough time to completely dodge. panic boils over in your chest and you feel your body move before you think about it, out of pure instinct to protect your kids. the long arm of the curse swings down and you rush towards the pink haired first year, shoving him out from underneath the approaching claws. hot, searing pain rips down from your shoulder and through your chest. your vision immediately turns spotty but you can see itadori tumble a few feet away from the force of your push. you must’ve screamed without realizing it because immediately all three students are calling out your name and rushing to finish the curse off.

you register that somewhere near you the curse bursts into smoke and spare puffs of cursed energy. it’s finally exorcised, but you're too focused on the feeling of warm, sticky blood seeping from your wound and the bitter taste of copper in your mouth to take note of who officially finished it off. the energy from the curse tapers off into nothing but residuals and suddenly three sets of footsteps are rushing towards you.

“y/n-san!” itadori is the first to reach you, calling out and falling to his knees at your side. “why would you do that?!” his words are frantic but his actions are gentle as he moves your head to rest on his knees. you can almost see the tears welling in his eyes from, in your opinion, misplaced guilt. he looks around searching for help of the other first years. behind him nobaras foot taps incessantly against the cold stone floor. she’s hurriedly dialing someone on her cellphone, presumably ijichi and fushiguro is tearing off his jacket. he does much better job of hiding his worry, but if your eyes were a little more focused you’d be able to see the slight shake to his movements as he bundles the fabric and presses it to your wound. you little out a little grunt of pain, the coarse texture agitates it but does a good enough staunching the steady trickle of blood. despite their lack of experience, it’s not hard for them to recognize this is bad. nobara finishes her call, before pocketing her phone and joining the boys on the ground next to you. she takes the edge of her sleeve, wiping off the small bit of blood dribbling from you mouth. you weakly attempt to swat her hand off, the last thing you wanted was to worry your kids or have them fuss over you.

“‘toru would kick my ass if i had let one of you kids get hurt” your words are slightly slurred but you speak with a little chuckle, referring to your husband while trying to make light of the situation. you even reach up to pat yuujis cheek reassuringly a couple times.

“well now gojo-sensei is gonna kick my ass for letting you get hurt!” he looks like he’s about to continue but the sound of screeching car tires interrupt him.

“ijichis here, lets get her up. y/n-” you can hear megumi talking, but your consciousness is slipping and you can’t decipher exactly what he said. you feel three pairs of hands start to lift you off the ground, the blood making it a little more difficult. as you look up the dots clouding your vision get bigger and bigger, the last thing you see is the crease of nobaras brows as she yells out to someone.

when you wake up, you feel your situation before you see it. the first, and maybe most important thing you feel, is the presence of your husband cuddled into your side. you feel his hair tickling your neck, his body pressed against your uninjured side and his fingers intertwined with yours. just knowing he’s there is enough to instantly put you at ease. your eyes finish adjusting to the bright morning light streaming in from the window and satoru shifts in his sleep, unawarely tugging the thin hospital blanket from your body.

“you’re stealing the blankets,” you whisper to him as you squeeze his hand in yours, but your voice comes out a little more strained than you had expected. even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s woken up as he lets out a little hum and adjusts himself on the small hospital bed. with the both of you it’s a tight fit, but you make it work. he’s careful not to jostle you as he sits up and gently brings you to lay on his side instead of him on yours. he’s mindful of your ivs and monitors, all while keeping your hand in his and making sure to drape the blanket back over you.

“rough night?” he asks, the hand of the arm wrapped around you comes to lightly brush over the bandages wrapped snug around your torso. the pain isn’t nearly as bad as it was before you blacked out. whatever meds they’d given you had turned the sharp stinging into a dull ache. but if you were being honest your whole body ached. a long, strenuous battle on top of a deep wound would do that to a person.

“rough night.” you confirm with a little chuckle, relaxing even further into his hold. the room is silent for a moment as he catches your eyes searching the empty room for something that’s not there. he presses a kiss to your temple, bringing your attention back to him.

“they went back to the school,” he states, already knowing that you were looking for the trio of first years, “and before you ask, they’re fine. all three made it out with nothing more than a couple scratches.”

“good, thats good,” you respond while smiling up at him. if those three were okay, any pain, wound, or hospital visit would be utterly worth it.

“i’m lucky i get to say the same for you, my love. itadori told me what you did” he lifts up his blindfold and gives you a look that resembles that of one he would give a student while scolding them. but behind it, you can see the deep amount of worry held in his bright eyes.

“i did what i had to, they're just kids” you shrug as best as yougiven your condition.

“i know, i know. very admirable of you,” he jokes a little before his tone turns serious “but please, don’t scare me like that ever again. you mean the world to me and i don’t know what i’d do without you. i love you to the moon and back, my dear y/n”

“i love you too satoru, to the moon and back”

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mrepstein · 4 years ago

Photo

The Beatles Book Monthly (No. 5, December 1963)

‘A TALE OF FOUR BEATLES’ by Billy Shepherd

PART IV (PART I // PART II // PART III)

Part IV opens in June, 1961 and charts Brian Epstein's early involvement with the Beatles.

And so the Beatles, with two experience-garnering trips to Germany behind them, got back to Liverpool. A swingin’ scene... and they were very much a part of it. It was the end of June, 1961.

But though they liked having more money to spend, they hadn’t the foggiest idea of just how much they were worth. The offers came in. Anything between £6 and £14 was the pay-packet, to be shared between Messrs. Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and drummer Pete Best.

“We just didn’t know,” admits George. “We loved the work, the excitement. We didn’t realise we were often being exploited. But it was hard work and somehow we didn’t seem to have much money in the kitty after we’d kept our equipment up to scratch...”

July, 1961, could go down as a summit meeting in Merseybeat history. A steamy, summery, shimmery night at Litherland Town Hall. A young promoter named Brian Kelly announced his attraction: The Beatmakers.

George Harrison was on lead guitar. Paul McCartney on rhythm. John Lennon on piano. Drummers were Pete Best and Freddie Marsden. Les Maguire operated on saxophone, Les Chadwick on bass guitar - and Gerry Marsden nipped on and off behind a big grin to take the vocals.

Gerry and the Pacemakers and the Beatles had linked up. For one night only and for a fee which is the smallest fraction of what they’d command for such a show now.

It led to friendships between the group members... but it didn’t seem to be leading to that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for the Beatles.

Says John: “We went on knocking ourselves out night after night but somehow there was a bit of frustration creeping in to it all. It didn’t seem to be leading anywhere.”

But the audiences were greatly appreciative.

Says Paul: “We started accepting dates further south. We got pretty near London on some of them. No change of material for us - still the stuff that went down so well in Germany. But we were veering away from the leather gear. Don’t make this sound big-headed, but the fact is that a lot of other groups were copying the way we looked on stage. So we changed to more ordinary clothes for a while.”

But in September, depression set in. Paul and John took themselves off to Paris for a holiday. They remember being flat broke. Remember having to search through every pocket to rake up enough francs for a Coke. Now, of course, they can go where they please and not count the cost.

And George and Pete stayed on in Liverpool, virtually lost to the Beat scene. Ray McFall, owner of the Cavern Club remembers seeing Messrs. Harrison and Best around the lunch-time sessions but they seemed dispirited. They took a lot of persuading even to join in on the impromptu roar-ups.

Let well-known Liverpool show compere Bob Wooler fill in the background to this black spot in the Beatles’ history.

“I’ve known the boys since the early days. I’ve been a long-time admirer. What they really needed was a manager in those far-off days. They seemed content not to argue about the fees they were offered. And they didn’t seem to realise that they were pulling in crowds on the strength of their own name and performance.

“After all, they had to live. They had to look after their equipment - and they often had travelling expenses to pay. It’s all very well being popular and enjoying your work, but you should be paid what you’re worth as well.

“Ray McFall at the Cavern was different. If the crowd was good, he upped the fee. That’s why the boys have always been so loyal to the Cavern. But you can understand them being puzzled at the lack of hard cash from their other venues where they were so often doubling the attendances.”

Paul and John were meanwhile spending a lot of time on their song-writing. You’ll see how much they’d already achieved in this direction as the story pushes on to the first recording days.

John and Paul could never sit down and simply write a song to order. They admit: “We have to wait for the ideas to arrive. It can happen anywhere. On a bus, or a train, or backstage at a dance-hall or theatre. Sometimes the title suggests itself first. Then we get going on the words and music. Sometimes we’ve finished a very successful seller in less than an hour.”

But their most pressing need was for a manager. Paul has told me “When we first started on paid jobs, we honestly thought we weren’t manageable. We thought nobody would want to bother with us. We were a pretty off-beat bunch of characters, to say the least. And we had a sense of humour which somehow involved us all and which was hardly in the interests of discipline. So, for a long time, we just didn’t take any notice of the advice that we should be properly handled. ‘Who’d WANT US,’ was the way we thought...

“And that’s where we were wrong...”

A MANAGER. Liverpool man Allan Williams took on the chore for a while... he now runs the Blue Angel Club on Merseyside.

But the man who was to make show business history with the Beatles knew nothing about the group in that September of 1961. That man, of course, was Brian Epstein, one-time drama student, member of a family which owned a chain of furniture and radio-TV stores in Liverpool.

He was not exactly WITH the beat scene. But he WAS in touch with the public taste through his work in the record department of the stores. He’d been there for five years, building up the business, enlarging the staff roster and increasing the turnover.

And in September, 1961, he was a puzzled man. Fans kept approaching him with: “Have you any records by the Beatles?” Brian mused. Pondered. Wondered. One young lad was particularly persistent in his demands. Brian dug deep into the record-lists. And found reference to that “My Bonnie” single, recorded in Germany, on which the Beatles played a strictly supporting role to guitar-star Tony Sheridan.

“I became Beatle-conscious for a while,” he says. “I always tried to work on the theory that the customer was right - and if they wanted the Beatles, well... I’d do my best to supply the Beatles. Eventually I traced the source and ordered some 200 copies for the record-stores. They sold quickly...

“Then out of the blue I heard they were Liverpool boys, had a rapidly-growing following - and were actually playing in a club near the store. It was a place that I’m sure I’d visited before, a sort of teenage gathering-place, but I really didn’t know much about it.

“After a while, I thought I’d better pop down there and see what all the fuss was about.”

Brian Epstein went to the Cavern. Met the Beatles. And things really started happening for the ambitious but not-too-sure group.

There are two ways of looking at this near-historic meeting. Brian Epstein’s. And the Beatles’ viewpoint.

Beatles first. Said George: “He started talking to us about the record that had created the demand. We didn’t know much about him but he seemed very interested in us and also a little bit baffled.

“He came back several times and talked to us. It seemed there was something he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t come out with it. He just kind of watched us and studied what we were doing. One day, he took us to the store and introduced us. We thought he looked rather red and embarrassed about it all.

“Eventually, he started talking about becoming our manager. Well, we hadn’t really had anybody actually VOLUNTEER in that sense. At the same time, he was very honest about it all - you know, like saying he didn’t really know anything about managing a group like us. He sort of hinted that he was keen if we’d go along with him...”

Brian, quite honestly, thought that the Beatles looked a mess. He wondered what exactly they thought they were trying to be. Their strange jackets, the rather scruffy jeans, the hair-styles, which could only have been styled on something called “chaos.”

“But there was something enormously attractive about them,” he recalls. “I liked the way they worked and the obvious enthusiasm they put into their numbers. People talk about the Liverpool sound but I sometimes wonder what exactly they mean. These boys put everything into their routines but they didn’t use echo. That struck me as being a very good thing.

“It was the boys themselves, though, who really swung it. Each had something which I could see would be highly commercial if only someone could push it to the top. They were DIFFERENT characters but they were so obviously part of the whole. Quite frankly, I was excited about their prospects, provided some things could be changed.”

And Brian told his friends: “This could easily turn out to be the biggest show business attraction since Elvis Presley.” It’s a tribute to his foresight and intuition that that is precisely what has happened.

Brian decided to get the boys together at a round-table conference at his store. A time was fixed and the boys agreed. But Beatles are not always the easiest of people to organise. Brian sat waiting... and waiting... and waiting. He was trying to cope with the vastly complex figures of Christmas orders for the store and minutes were precious to him.

Eventually THREE Beatles arrived. George, John and Pete. No Paul. Story goes that Brian got George to ring through and see what had happened to the left-handed guitar-star. And that Paul admitted he was still in the bath... but wouldn’t be long!

Brian was rather on his high-horse. He felt it was not the right thing for someone who wanted to talk business to be kept waiting. He pointed out that Paul, the cherubic one of the four, would be extremely late. “Yes,” said George, forcing back a grin. “But he’ll also be extremely clean.”

Says Brian: “That sense of humour is invaluable. You could hardly feel annoyed at their lack of business ability. They were just four individual and off-beat characters.”

Prior to Brian taking such an interest, there was great concern among Cavern people that there was a chance of the Beatles packing in all thoughts of show business careers. Bob Wooler had tried hard to get BBC television producer Jack Good interested in the group. Jack had produced beat shows, like “Six-Five Special” which had been the stepping-stone to success for artistes like Cliff Richard. But Jack was also in demand in the States... and he’d gone there to further his own career long before Bob could get any decision from the telly-folk.

Brian, having eventually assembled all four Beatles in the same room, put his propositions to them. He went through a process of brain-washing, though he did it all very tactfully. He didn’t like their manner of dress. Wasn’t knocked out by the unruly hair-cuts. Was singularly unimpressed by the way they casually drank tea on stage while in the middle of shows.

He pleaded with them rather than ordered them. He knew they were a valuable property and he was knocked out at the way their personal following was growing through the Merseyside area.

Said John: “He’d tell us that jeans were not particularity smart and could we possibly manage to wear PROPER trousers. But he didn’t want us suddenly looking square. He let us have our own sense of individuality.”

He added: “We respected his views. We stopped champing at cheese rolls and jam butties on stage. We paid a lot more attention to what we were doing. Did our best to be on time. And we smartened up, in the sense that we wore suits instead of any sloppy old clothes.”

It was a master-plan. A long-term plan if necessary but it was aimed at making the most of four young men who clearly had that star quality in them... even though a recording contract was still more than nine months away.

Obviously, Brian Epstein’s main job was to get the group on record. He knew the strength of their popularity in Liverpool and he felt it wouldn’t be a hard job to interest some of the London companies. But that was where Brian was wrong.

He even delayed any sort of action until the results of the 1961 “Mersey Beat Poll” were announced. That came up at the end of the year. And the Beatles were high and dry in top place in this important survey of how the public felt about the myriad groups operating in the scene. Said Brian: “I thought this was the ‘Open Sesame’ to the recording scene. I felt that Liverpool was important enough to have London executives falling about to sign the boys. I was wrong...”

Brian, though technically still in charge of important parts of the family business, threw himself into the job of getting the Beatles known nationally. He had the backing of the Beatles’ parents and it was to be no holds barred for the major break through.

He started visiting London. Hopefully. Optimistically. But record executives showed an alarming tendency to register non-committal gloom. Brian had to keep reporting apparent failure to the boys - by now riding higher than ever in popular acclaim in Liverpool.

Cont’d next month in No. 6

#Brian Epstein #The Beatles #Beatles Book Monthly #1963 #60s #Billy Shepherd

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basicjetsetter · 4 years ago

Text

Part IV

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Little angst, Lot of anxiety, Fluff if you squint

▹ Words: 2.8k

▹ A/N: This chapter’s a bit on the short side, but it establishes a lot. Happy reading!

You’re not exactly sure how you pull it off, but you somehow manage to elude Peter for five straight days.

Playing the impromptu game of hide-and-not-be-seen was touch and go for the first two days, mainly because you weren’t sure what time you’d see Peter in the diner’s entrance. All you knew was that he’d show up early, whatever that meant. Almost every chiming bell sent your heart into overdrive, and whenever you thought you saw him, your stomach performed painful somersaults as you mapped out all likely escape routes.

No place in the diner was safe. Hal’s has a pretty simple layout: front entrance, booths to the immediate right, and bar with barstools to the immediate left, all in a shotgun fashion. If one were to try looking for someone, especially from the front entrance, all they’d have to do is marginally widen their field of vision, which is why the first two days were tricky.

The next day after the first run-in, about three hours earlier than his initial arrival, Peter came in through the front door, buddying up with Chris and asking for you.

You were clearing off an unoccupied table, piling dirty plates, when Chris called out, “Hey! How’s it hanging, Peter?” With the stack of dishes still clenched in your hands, you dropped down and crawled under the booth, coming face to face with an unsavory assortment of chewed-up gum underneath the table, holding your breath for dear life. Peter stayed for about ten agonizingly treacherous minutes as Chris failed to locate you.

On the second day, a sluggish Tuesday morning with only four regular patrons at the bar and no one in the booths, Peter had just walked through the entrance as you were coming out of the back, hand-carrying three of Hal’s famous Thin Mint Milkshakes. Without a thought, you spun right around and dashed in the opposite direction, busting through the employee door and colliding straight into Wendy. You’d never seen someone throw such a fit, but then again, you’d be pretty pissed too if someone coated you head-to-toe in milkshake.

That day was… eventful, to say the least, but it gifted you with the best estimate for Peter’s arrivals. Early meant 11:30 a.m. on the dot. Lunch. You tested out the time the next day, waiting behind the employee door and peering out the medium-sized port window. At 11:30 a.m., right on cue, was Peter, dapping Chris and ordering a slice of Banana Cream Pie to-go while also asking for your whereabouts, staying for only half an hour.

He left you a note each time he departed.

Can’t seem to catch you. I’ll try again tomorrow :) – Peter

Is this not a good time for you? I’ll stop by later if you want – Peter

Is everything alright? Text or call anytime you need me. I’ll be there – Peter

From the second note on, you found yourself captivated by his neat little scrawl and the way he always signed his name at the end, as if you’d forget it was him. You’d read them on your way home and right before falling asleep, trying and failing not to picture him smiling at you while you absent-mindedly smiled at his words.

Your friendly boy-next-door is so easy to fall for, but you just can’t do it. You can’t allow yourself to fall. Nobody would be there to pick you back up.

Some nights, you lied awake drafting a message that would effectively convince Peter that things wouldn’t work between you, that you’re a lost cause, and he should probably find some other connection if such a thing exists. But then, unfailingly, you’d think about his concerned little notes and sadly acknowledge that he deserves more than a measly text. After showing up to Hal’s for almost a whole week just to get to know you, Peter deserves the truth.

Your heart is not ready for a Soulmate, and it might not ever be.

By the fifth day, you spend a good chunk of time pondering over the right words to say to Peter while simultaneously hiding in the kitchen, pretending to prepare more fries. You never looked forward to hiding from him, but what other option did you have? Going out there and letting your coworkers and boss know he’s your Soulmate? They wouldn’t shut up about it, especially not Chris, the open romantic.

When your shift ended that day, and you walked up to Chris so he could hand you Peter’s fifth note, he emphatically shook his head.

“On behalf of my new friend, Peter, I can’t in good faith give this to you,” he stated, tucking the folded paper into his back pocket and crossing his arms. “Not until you tell me why you’re dodging him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms too. “It’s really none of your business, Chris.”

“True, but it’s his.” The little dig got to you, making you wince. Chris continued softly, “Look, he won’t tell me what’s up with you two, either. And, trust me, I've asked. It's just... I’m kinda involved now, being the messenger and all, so shouldn’t I know some of the situation?”

“No…?” you hedged.

Chris didn’t budge.

You couldn’t think of a lie on the spot, and a half-truth would only further complicate things. Treading the fine line of what’s too much information and what’s not enough left you frustratingly tongue-tied. What’s specific enough to still be vague? Chris stared at you expectantly with a petulant little lift in his brow, ignoring a customer’s disgruntled calls for a refill in the napkin dispenser.

In the end, you huffed out a resigned breath and hesitantly admitted, “Peter's someone I knew from high school—a really nice guy.” For Chris’s benefit, you added, “He just likes to check up on me every now and then. You know how I don’t get out that much…”

And in a heartbeat, Chris morphed from a tough enquirer to a softened pile of dough, sagely nodding his head as if he knew all too well how reserved you are and how much of a losing battle it is persuading you to venture out. Or maybe it was because he understood how difficult it is to reconnect with people you unwilfully lost touch with for five years.

How everything and everyone fell right back into step with everyday life, like five years was just five minutes, continues to boggle your mind. It’s not normal. You won’t ever pretend that it is.

The disgruntled man shouted, “Can I get any damn service around here?”

Chris immediately broke from the conversation and left you behind the bar, off to go charm the customer’s socks off and earn a nice $10 tip even though he clocked out ten minutes ago.

You went on your way home, the ever-present anxiety of confronting Peter growing by the second.

Hours later, dressed down to your pajamas and reading his words over again, you’re still thinking about it, dread now gnawing on your insides.

You couldn’t even enjoy your newfound peace of mind. Ever since the voice stopped, Peter twined into all of your thoughts: his notes, his visits, his smile, your connection to him. There had to be a reason why destiny paired you. Besides being your Soulmate, what is he to you? What are you to him?

Unrest barred you from sleep for most of the night, and when you woke up the next morning, showered and ready to tackle another day, it hit you.

It’s Saturday—your day off this week—and you’re not scheduled to go back to work until Monday.

You could put off telling him… but what would be the point? It’d only prolong the inevitable. You needed to come clean today.

Picking up your phone, you steadily tap in his memorized cell number, then type:

-Hey Peter, it’s Y/N. Can you come by my place? We need to talk.

Three minutes later, he texts back.

-On my way.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

A nice, early summer breeze billows around you, doing its best to calm down your erratic nerves as you wait for Peter on the roof.

Are you doing the right thing?

Will Peter be okay with this?

What if he isn’t?

You jump out of your skin at the muffled Thwip and sudden appearance of Peter standing a few feet away.

His chestnut hair is windswept, and he’s wearing regular clothes, a faded blue Midtown High hoodie and denim jeans. You weren’t sure why you expected him to come dressed in his suit. It could be because you heard the sound of his web-slinger first and immediately thought of Spider-Man, but it’s more likely that your brain hasn’t connected that they are one and the same. You don’t see Spider-Man when you see him. All you see is Peter.

He’s tense, not moving an inch closer and keeping his shoulders pinched up like he’s on the defense. You can’t guess why he would be.

Gulping down a hard lump lodged in your throat, you stutter, “H-hi.”

He gives you a polite smile that doesn’t reach his sullen eyes. “Hey”

You both begin at the same time.

“Peter, I—”

“Look, Y/N—”

Ice floods your stomach, freezing your veins and squeezing your pounding heart. He has something to say to you? About what? You subtly jerk your head up, signaling for him to speak first.

Peter clears his throat, looks down at his shoes, then back up at you. “I know you’ve been hiding from me.”

“You do?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and it’s okay.”

Your voice hikes an octave. “It is?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. I get it.” He stops to scratch the back of his neck and dejectedly rambles on, “I’m not the safest person to be around, and it’s all super weird and a lot to take in. Like, a lot. My Aunt May freaked out too when she found out. Anyway, I… I get it if you don’t, y’know, don’t want me.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupt, trying to wrap your head around what he said. “You think… you think I don’t want you because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Well, yeah.” He says it like there couldn’t be any other possible reason.

You lower your gaze to the ground, unable to meet his curious gaze. “No, Peter, that’s not it.” Tears prick your eyes, but you fight like hell to keep them from falling. Steeling yourself, you quietly confess, “It’s me. I can’t be your Soulmate because…” A rebellious tear rolls down your cheek. “Because I’m not ready.”

As soon as you spoke the truth out loud, laying yourself and your broken soul bare, you dimly sense the previously severed string quiver deep down inside your chest. It’s the first time you felt it in five years, and it’s not how you remember it. It’s not severed, but it’s not whole either. Its presence only reminds you of what you can’t have, what you aren’t ready for.

In the ensuing quiet, you swipe the tear off your cheek and look at everything except Peter. Yellow tulips are blooming on someone’s balcony in the neighboring apartment building. A handful of fluffy clouds float in the piercing blue sky. An orange tabby cat is sun-bathing in a window.

It’s such a beautiful day. Yet, here you are, struggling not to cry on a roof.

Peter breaks through the silence, murmuring, “To be honest, I’m not ready either.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too hopeful, bringing your eyes back to his. They look so weary yet resolute.

“Yeah. I was actually freaking out that night we met.” He timidly grins, and your heart flips. “I didn’t know what to say, then I screwed up and forgot to ask if you were okay after I had literally just saved you from falling. Not really a glowing first impression.”

Astonishing yourself, you laugh. You couldn’t help it. There was absolutely nothing remotely hilarious about that night, but the way Peter described it, as if it were a blunder solely on his part, was so ridiculous that it was funny. Peter joins in, too, his laugh coming out airy and wondrously addictive. That smile you couldn’t stop thinking about for a whole week brightens his face.

When the laughs fade, Peter soberly says, “Even if we aren’t ready, maybe we can try being friends, just to see where things go? I mean, we were meant to be together for a reason, right? This could be it.”

You unconsciously nibble on your lower lip, considering his proposal. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might want to be friends. Would you want to do that? These days, you aren’t really open to platonic relationships, and Soulmate or not, being in a friendship would require some sort of connection. You don’t like those much.

Be that as it may, Peter seems like the type to respect your many boundaries, and that’s exactly what you would prefer in a friend at the moment. Someone who doesn’t pry. Someone who doesn’t uphold generic expectations. You could go for a diner talk every once in a while.

Besides, it’s just a little friendship. Most are surface level, and some don’t even last a year. What’s the worst that could happen?

You sincerely smile at Peter, wondering about the last time your smiles were sincere, and say, “Okay. Let’s be friends.”

His face radiates joy. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think we can do that. But I have a few terms.”

Peter eagerly nods, waiting.

You try not to focus on how his happiness thrills you. “One, don’t tell anyone we’re Soulmates. I don’t really want any of my coworkers to know.”

His smile drops into a sheepish wince. “I kinda already told Ned. But he won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“That’s okay. It’s mostly my coworkers I’m worried about,” you reassure. You weren’t going to berate him for telling his best friend. If things were different, you’d have done the same. “Two, don’t ask me to hang out with your other friends. I don’t do big friend circles.”

“Got it,” he militantly nods again. “It’s mostly just Ned and me anyway.”

“And three,” your grin broadens. “If Chris asks you what’s going on between us, be super vague.”

“Done.” He smirks back at you, then extends his hand. “Friends?”

When your hand touches his, and you shake on it, the warmth of his palm thaws out all your remaining anxiety. “Friends.”

✦ ✧✦ ✧

When Monday rolls around, a tiny ball of doubt weighs you down.

It’s not that you were afraid of talking to Peter. You were actually looking forward to getting to know him now that you officially became friends. It’s the future you’re stuck on. What happens if you get too attached to this friendship and want more? What if friendship is all he wants? What if it’s the other way around?

If you were honest with yourself, you’d know which way the gage is leaning, and it’s not in your favor.

You’re cleaning off the bar top when Peter comes in, doing his usual greeting with Chris before settling down on a barstool in front of you. He’s a little high strung, leaning his chin on his hand, then thinking against it, only to do it again. It was oddly comforting to know that he was overthinking too.

The corners of your lips tug up in a soft smile. “Hi, Peter.”

Your face warms as he smiles back. “Hey, Y/N.”

Chris barges in, leaning his elbows on the bar top and gaping incredulously at you and Peter. “Woah, woah, woah! Did I miss something? Since when are you two speaking in public?”

Peter checks his watch. “About thirty-seven seconds ago.”

“Oh, come on, dude. At least tell me what happened.”

You and Peter share a knowing look like two conniving co-conspirators sharing an inside joke, and you giggle as Chris huffs in annoyance. He glumly storms off when you two stay hushed, muttering, “Fine, next time you need a middle-man, count me out.”

“Does he hold grudges?” Peter asks after Chris walks out of earshot.

You’re still shaking with giggles. “Not at all. He’ll be back to his happy self in less than an hour.”

Peter only stays at Hal’s for twenty-five minutes, but they were the funniest and most intriguing twenty-five minutes you ever worked.

The conversation began slowly at first, but each question loosened the formalities. Peter asked about easy things: when did you get into art, when did you start working at Hal’s, and when was your birthday, all while digging into his slice of pie. He caught on fast enough to know the topic of parents was off-limits, and he thankfully chose to stay away from any talk of the blip.

When you asked him questions, he was open and responsive, jumping at the chance to talk about his passion for bio-sciences and Star Wars, sometimes covertly mentioning some of the duties he has a Spider-Man. Not a minute was wasted. You talked while serving customers and cleaning tables, keeping up the joke of staying quiet when Chris tried to meddle.

It all turned out smoother than you expected. Almost too smooth, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

You are sure about one thing, though. You like having Peter as a friend.

...

Part V

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart #peter parker fluff

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cafedanslanuit · 5 years ago

Text

pairing: saeyoung x mc

summary: a love story between a man with a mysterious job and a nurse during the second world war. “And all the things that you never ever told me and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. Never coming home, never coming home.”

warnings: mentions of war and everything that entails: blood, wounds and death.

notes: this idea came to me after listening to “the ghost of you” by my chemical romance, hence the title. hope you like this~

In a way, it was good feeling numb.

Being a frontline nurse for the second great war was definitely a time when you would want to feel numb. I could no longer feel the pain in my overworked body, smell the stench of death or cry when we lost yet another soldier. Make no mistake, I still did my best. In fact, I think not being able to feel anything anymore is what granted me the serenity to treat soldiers the best way that I can. My mind goes over my medical knowledge, not really listening when they start to cry about their families or loved ones who are waiting for them to return from the war zone.

Waiting. Waiting is such a terrible thing to do.

The anguish of knowing it’s been hours and he still doesn’t show up, the stressful ticking of the clock and the way your whole brain is screaming something bad has happened, but you have no clue on what it is or what you should do to avoid it. Or if you can even avoid it by the time you’ve recognized the danger.

I heard one of the other nurses calling my name just as I was closing the eyes of the soldier who had just passed away in front of me. She was kneeling over another body, short of hands to stop the bleeding coming from different parts of the soldier’s body. I could only see his closed eyes since most of his face was covered by the fabric the nurse was using to put pressure on his wounds.

“You sure he’s alive?” I asked. She nodded frantically, tending to a large wound on his left thigh. Judging from the extent of the wounds, he wouldn’t be for a long time. Still, I knew she was young and had just joined us a week ago and had the idea of fighting until the end.

I sighed and kneeled beside her, taking a bandage to try and stop the bleeding from his arm. As I did so, I uncovered the soldier’s face.

It was like an explosion.

In an instant, my body became aware of the shootings happening in the distance. The screaming of men against men buzzed in my ears and I realized how badly my head was hurting. I could even listen to the other nurses’ cries.

Seeing him--- no, recognizing him was like coming up the water and breathing for the first time in ages. But it couldn’t be him. There was no way it could be him, I thought before pulling off the soldier’s helmet. The minute I saw the untamed red hair, my whole body started shaking, feeling like my mind was playing cruel tricks to me.

It was him.

But it couldn’t be… not here, not now.

I called for an extra nurse as I tended to his arm, my eyes fixed on the face I thought I would never see again.

ii.

Beer, like me, is mostly an acquired taste. That was why, for weeks, I would only look from afar to the handsome red-haired man that always sat at the same table at the bar and scribbled notes on his small notebook for hours. He wouldn’t drink anything else but soda, making me wonder why he even bothered to come to a bar if he wouldn’t have any alcohol. My plan was to wear my best dresses and have him notice the girl who had been giving him heart-eyes for the past few daysr. Maybe he would invite me to his table, we could start talking and getting to know each other. Sadly, my plan failed, as he never seemed to look my way. I ended up being the one to sit at his table and introduce myself.

I wish I had approached him earlier. Just imagining I could have had another two weeks with him is enough to make me smile.

Conversation flowed naturally, even if the first thing he did was hide his notebook from me. Well, all writers are reserved, I guessed. He laughed like a kid and his smile was so contagious, even hours later, tucked into bed, I would smile whenever his memory popped in my mind.

The first encounter turned into a daily occurrence for another week. Friday came again and I asked him to go for a small date with me the next day. He pouted and explained he still had to go to work.

“Your work at the radio station is seven days a week?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in suspicion. Saeyoung scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

“Money’s tight, so I take every shift I can,” he explained.

“So you use your only free time to work on your novels?”

“Novels?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Yes, in your notebook?” I pressured, tilting my head to where his notebook was now resting on the table under his elbow. Saeyoung looked down and let out a small laugh.

“Right, the novel. It has a long way before it becomes one,” he shrugged, putting the notebook back in the inside pocket of his jacket. I followed his hand movements and then took a long swig of my beer.

“It sure does when it’s not a novel at all,” I commented, licking my upper teeth. I noticed how his face tensed up, so I waved my hand in front of him, trying to dissipate his fears. “No, no, don’t worry. I won’t ask. But going back to my previous inquiry, I was really looking forward to seeing you outside of this bar. Not that I don’t like you’ve been paying for my drinks this past week, but…” I chuckled. “Maybe dinner, when you’re not working… at the radio station.”

I was hoping he would understand that by mentioning his alleged workplace, he would understand I was not going to pressure him for any more answers. He probably worked a low-end job and didn't want to discuss that with me. It probably had gone south with his previous lovers, I thought. The subject didn’t really matter to me. I had a good job at the hospital as a nurse, so I wasn’t really looking for someone who could support me. At that moment, all I wanted was to spend more time looking into his big, golden eyes that had lured me from the beginning.

The first time Saeyoung kissed me was outside his house. He had taken my offer to get dinner together and had called my home number that very same Sunday to ask me to join him at a nice restaurant. As I put on one of my best dresses, I couldn’t stop thinking about the restaurant he had picked. There was no way someone with a low-end job could afford dinner for two there.

But I had promised not to dig into it. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person that would be involved in dangerous situations, and unless that notebook was actually a chequebook of drug deals he had done, I thought I wouldn’t need to worry. I knew it was naive to be so trusting of a person I had just met, but I guess you’d have to be in the situation I was in for it to make sense.

It wasn’t love, of course it wasn’t love. Not at first, at least. But the sound of his laugh, the way his eyes sparkled and the way he leaned forward whenever I talked just felt like home. Everything made sense when I spent time with him. I had read about soulmates before, and still to this day. I don’t know if that was the case. I just knew my place was by his side and if that meant I wasn’t supposed to ask what he did during the day, then so be it. I could live with that.

The first time Saeyoung kissed me was outside his house. That was also the moment I found the place where I was always supposed to be.

iii.

I made a home out of his house.

Messy was an understatement. I wasn’t able to comprehend how Saeyoung had been living by himself all this time. There was no food in the fridge other than bottles of soda. I had already figured out he had money, so it didn’t make sense why he didn’t hire a maid. He worked on scribbling notes on different notebooks, his eyes never leaving the paper while I tried to organize his house. I wouldn’t have done it for any other man. But there was something about him that compelled me to help him in any way I could.

I wish I was lying when I say I even found a dead mouse Saeyoung insisted was his friend. He picked up the body with a small pout and put it in a shoebox, so he could leave it later at the park. ‘He needs a proper burial. I’ve pulled so many all-nighters and it was nice to hear his squeaking every once in a while to keep me company’. What started as a disgusting discovery ended up making me realize how lonely he really was. I asked him about his family, but he just said he had been on his own for a lot of years and it was better that way. The forced smile that accompanied his words told me otherwise.

“It’s an unnerving big bed for a sole person,” he had commented one day, as he nuzzled his face on the crook of my neck. I listened to him as my fingers played with his red locks, twirling them and the letting go. We had spent the morning lying close together, neither of us wanting to get up.

“Then why did you buy it?” I asked. I felt his nose let out air as he chuckled.

“I didn’t. I didn’t pick anything in this house,” he confessed, pressing a kiss on my neck.

“What? Then who did?”

“I’ve said too much already,” he whispered, pushing himself up on his forearms and hovering on top of my body. He looked down at me and leaned into my hand when I cupped his face.

“You’re really not gonna tell me what you do for a living, huh?” I asked with an amused smile. He shook his head with a mischievous grin before peppering my face with small kisses, making me laugh until my stomach hurt.

Our days were full of laughter. The only thing I had to do was never ask about what he did for a living. And as the days went by, I even forgot it was even a mystery. I longed for the times we were together, the private slow dances we would have at his living room and the way the moonlight made his pale face look heavenly when he slept by my side.

I loved him.

And by the way he woke me up every morning with a kiss, I knew he loved me as well.

iv.

Saeyoung didn’t show up that night.

We were supposed to meet at the bar at nine, but it had been an hour and no one had seen him. I asked for more beer and sighed as the minutes went by. It wouldn’t be the first time he arrived late, I told myself, as the beer seemed to get stuck in my throat. Anxiously, I tapped my fingers on the table, my leg shaking under the table. He definitely hadn't been this late before.

I couldn’t shake the bad feeling something had happened. But even if he had been mugged on the street or had a bad day, I knew he would still come to find me. The taste of alcohol quickly became repulsive as I kept on waiting.

Before I knew it, I was grabbing my purse and walking to his house, taking the fastest route. He probably had fallen asleep after work or plainly forgot about our date. Even if that would ignite a small quarrel between us, there was nothing I wanted more at that moment but to be able to fight with him.

Nevertheless, the moment the door opened on its own when I knocked, I knew something was wrong.

I was welcomed by broken plates scattered over the floor and the coffee table turned upside down. All the drawers were opened and some of them were even lying on the ground. My brain screamed for me to turn around and leave, and I think that was the last time it led me away from danger.

I can’t really remember anything until my scream when I found a Saeyoung’s body covered with blood on the bed, presumably unconscious. I ran to him, and tore his shirt open, trying to find the source of the bleeding. My breath caught up in my throat when I found not one, but several open wounds, continuous flow of blood coming from them. I frantically tried to stop them, using a shirt on the floor to apply pleasure to give him more time until we got to the hospital.

Saeyoung whispered my name, his eyes slowly opening up as I tried to assess his injuries.

“Don’t worry, okay?” I said, trying to muster a small smile. “Once we get to the hospital I can help you”.

“No,” Saeyoung coughed, grabbing my wrists and trying to stop me.

“What do you mean no?” I asked, finding yet another source of bleeding.

“My cover is blown. Doesn’t matter if I die now."

"It matters to me! Let me take you, please, maybe I can--"

"You were the love of my life," Saeyoung interrupted me, a weak smile playing on his lips. My hands stopped my full attention on his words. "You made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I mean this. But… it's part of the job I took. I've accepted this is it," he said. Before he could continue, he started coughing, his whole body shaking as he winced in pain. The shirt I had used to stop his bleeding was already drenched in blood.

"No. No, I can't. I have to do something, please," I begged as tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Saeyoung shook his head. His hands found mine and squeezed them gently.

"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. I bit my bottom lip, failing at trying to wake up from the horrid nightmare I was in. Defeated, I nodded and sat next to him.

Carefully, I held him close as I laid on his bed. His head was resting between my neck and chest and my arms were around his shoulders, holding him tightly against my trembling form.

“What the fuck do you do for a living?” I sniffled. Saeyoung chuckled, nuzzling his face against my neck.

“We have a machine that can decrypt enemies' messages. I am part of a team that uses that machine,” he explained. Immediately after, he squinted and let out a long sigh. “You can never tell anyone this. I shouldn’t have…”

“I won’t say a thing,” I assured him, pressing a kiss on the top of his head.

“Wait until the war is over, okay? Stay… stay alive. With the work we've done, it shouldn't last much longer. Just don't ever say anything about this."

"I won't. I won't," I whispered.

I don't know how long I held him in my arms. My hands went from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back, trying to somehow make him feel comfortable as he got closer and closer to his end. My tears had stopped without me realizing it, the feeling of emptiness replacing them. The long goodbye of the love of my life was slowly taking away the last bits of hope of happiness I had left.

“I’m scared,” he suddenly muttered, his voice a little broken.

“Don’t be. It’ll be like falling asleep. You’ll be okay,” I assured him, holding his body against mine. He let out a shaky breath, his fists closing against my blouse.

Softly, I started humming the song he always chose first whenever we danced together. I always thought it was his favourite but I was stupid enough to never ask.

Damn the whole country and every other country involved. Damn the presidents, the world leaders using peace as an excuse to use people as replaceable chess pawns. Damn anyone who made him feel it was okay to die for a bigger cause. Damn the people who were taking him away from me, along with my only chance of happiness and would never face the consequences for it.

"You'll be okay," I repeated as I stroke his hair. "You'll be okay and we'll move to the countryside. We'll get a small house, just for us. You can get a job as a teacher in the church's day school and I'll leave my job as a nurse to take care of our own family. And when you come home, I'll greet you with your favourite soda and a big smile, okay?". I felt him nod against my chest and I continued my humming.

For the longest time, I focused on the sound of his breathing, shallow and weak, until I couldn’t hear it anymore. I cried as I held his body tighter, feeling as if I were to let him go, then he would be really gone. I screamed, not caring if anyone would hear me. I think I secretly hoped someone did, hopefully whoever did that heard me and finished me off once and for all.

When I finally managed to calm down enough, I gently turned his body, still resting on top of me, and laid him on the bed. There was a big bloodstain on my blouse that was already sticking to my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to care about it.

I got the chance to look at his face. His eyes were closed, but there was a hint of a smile and a peaceful expression I had never seen before in people dying from similar causes at the hospital.

He embraced death with the peace he had never lived in.

It was him.

The sole reason why I had left my job at the hospital and enlisted to help out soldiers in the war zone. His death had pushed me to ask to be on the front lines. The feeling of not caring if I lived or died another day was empowering rather than terrifying. If I died, at least I could get to see him again.

We carried him to the nurse's station and a doctor took over the case. No one dared to mention my sudden uneasiness and constant check up on the soldier we had brought back. Maybe they all thought it was an act from the beginning. For me, it felt like an awakening.

Almost at the end of dawn, I noticed him moving his arm, shuffling in his gurney as he tried to take the bandage off. I quickly stood up from the chair I had spent the entire night on and ran to him. His eyes were closed and his face was contorted in a painful expression. I softly moved his hands away from the bandage, securing it after I did so. I explained where he was and what had happened to his arm, trying my best to ease his confusion. I took the chance to fix the bandage around his head, and for the first time, he opened his eyes.

And that was when he looked at me.

With his bright, teal eyes.

"Am I going to lose the arm? You look disappointed," he grunted. I straightened my back and shook my head.

"You will recover fully. I will get the doctor now," I explained, turning my back at him and leaving.

Outside the tent, I felt as if a bucket of cold water drained on top of me, numbing once again any trace of emotion I had dared to revisit in the past twelve hours.

I needed to finally wrap my head around it.

I'd never get to greet him home.

He was never coming back.

#mystic messenger #saeoyoung choi #mysme #mysme saeyoung #mysme saeyoung x mc #mm saeyoung #mm saeyoung x mc #luciel choi #saeyoung x mc #mysme imagines #mysme scenarios

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lukneetoonz · 5 years ago

Text

Ghost of You Part IV

——————————————————————————-

Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of medical stuff, cursing, mentions of cheating.

Word Count: 1,845

A/N: Hey everyone, so this is it, the end! I’m a little- I don’t know. I don’t condone cheating in ANY WAY, so writing this I kinda wanted something that made people happy.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

—————————————————————————-

How did it all go wrong? Not even wrong, how did it go from bad to worse? You were breathing, you had a steady heart rate. How is it you can go from somewhat peaceful, to being crowded by hospital staff as they did whatever they were doing, supplies being screamed for, lights going dim, and rushed hands moving about your body. You were supposed to be okay- so why were you suddenly not okay?

Bakugou Katsuki looked into your room, time almost slowing down as his face held no emotion, he swore that even his own heartbeat started slowing down as he looked on. Kirishima tried talking to his ash blonde friend, only to be completely ignored, almost like he wasn’t even there. The flowers that were in bakugou's hand, dropped to the floor, and without another word, he started walking away.

He had gotten a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he thought maybe they’d brighten up the room a bit, maybe even hide the sterile smell. But coming back to this- it made him realise he needed to stop pretending. Even if you lived, you would never take him back. Why would you? He did the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do; break your heart.

*•*

Voices were loud and clear, they were- panicked? No, they sounded rushed. Almost like they needed to do the task at hand or something bad would happen. Everything slowly started coming back to you, and then you realized you were choking? Why were you choking? What was happening? Panicked, you started freaking out, strangled cries coming from you as you finally opened your eyes, only to be met by multiple faces staring down at you.

“Push a sedative into her IV, she’s becoming fully aware” A deep voice called for someone, before a finger was waving in front of your eyes, “Y/N, can you hear me?” You gave a meek nod, coughing as you felt something being pulled from your throat, leaving a sore feeling behind. “Good… good. Can you please follow my finger with just your eyes?” As you hacked up- god knows what, you did as you were asked and followed the gloved finger, making sure not to move your head.

“Lungs sound good, so does her heart.” You were met with relieved smiles, a couple of the people exiting the room as your bed was moved to sit up, a cup of water handed to you and you didn’t hesitate to grab it. Starting to look around, you were met with a very bleak room, and it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you were in the hospital. “Hi, Y/N? I’m Dr Deyoung, can you tell me everything you remember? I can come back if you need?”

Shaking your head, you tried speaking, only to cough and need a drink. After a minute, you opened your mouth and started speaking, your voice raspy and hoarse. “I- there were villains, wanting us to give them the information on pro hero’s. They knew we had it because we are a support agency” Slowly, you started remembering more and more, eyes going wide, you looked up and around, “Katsu- Where's katsu?”

Before you could get a response, kirishima came barging in, a thankful smile spreading across his face. “oh thank god-” Running to your side, kirishima pat your head, happy tears streaming down his face. “Thank you for not dying.” A laugh escaped you, making you slightly cough again, but you brushed it off. As happy as you were to see the red hero, you wanted to see another hero- one with ash blonde hair.

“Is he here?” Kirishima slumped, scratching his neck he avoided your gaze, “h-he was… but when he thought you were crashing he left. He hasn’t left your side though, like at all…” Nodding, you slowly processed what the redhead just told you. “I- can you tell him I’m okay? But… I don’t think he should come back… at least- for now… I need some time to think.” Kiri nodded, quickly ruffling your hair before he walked out, planning on finding his explosive friend.

Bakugou was outside sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, trying his best to get the image of you in that bed removed from his memory. He heard the running footsteps towards him, but he simply ignored them. Katsuki knew it was probably his friend, but he just wanted to be left alone, and he also didn’t want to hear how you were gone forever. Soft pants left kirishima as he sat next to the ash blonde, “She's awak-” something set Bakugou off as he heard the words he’s been waiting to hear, yet for some reason he was pulled down by kirishima.

“Let me finish…. she’s awake, but she said she needs time before she sees you. You owe her that.” That’s right… you weren’t his anymore, he wasn’t entitled the right to see you. Why did he think that when you woke up it would be like a dream and he’d get to hold you again. Katsuki took a few steps back before gulping, forcing himself to look at the ground, “I- I understand… see you later kirishima.” A hoarse whisper left the red eyed hero before walking away.

*•*

When you were released from the hospital, you went home to a small get together filled with your friends and loved ones. Even if you were out, you still had a gloomy feeling around you. You knew that you would have to talk to Bakugou at some point, because honestly you didn’t like how it ended nor did you like not having him in your life.

Bakugou was a mess, once again. His apartment was in the worst state it had ever been, he only drank alcohol, and he stopped taking care of himself. Yet he kept in mind on how you were much better without him in your life. You said you’d talk to him- but after two months, he gave up on the hope that he had. Once again you stopped talking to him, just like that you were out of his life. If it wasn’t for him stalking your social media, he would have thought you never existed…

3 Years Later

Red eyes followed your form that walked down the aisle dressed in white. Bakugou had to tear his eyes away or else he would have cried, he even might have ran up to you and kissed you right there. But he couldn’t, he could never do that to his best friend. The one that was waiting for you to say ‘I do’. Katsuki couldn’t even be upset, because kirishima asked him a million times if it was okay and apologized when the relationship started because you kissed him suddenly.

Even if Bakugou wanted to scream out and say no, tell him to back off, he couldn’t. He refused to be the cause of another heartbreak for you, plus never did the ash blonde think it would have led to this. You walking down the aisle with him standing at the altar, but merely standing behind the actual groom. As you arrived to stand before everyone, kirishima took your hands and kissed your knuckles, a shining smile on his face as you both stared at each other with love.

When the priest started talking, Bakugou toned out every word, the words now mere background noise to the nightmare he was living. “Does anyone have any objections for why these two shall not be married? Speak now or forever hold your peace” shaking out of his thoughts Bakugou looked over Kirishima's shoulder to be met by your eyes, holding an emotion he couldn’t quiet. He may have been a pro hero, one that was constantly thrown into terrifying situations, but this was the scariest thing he has ever done.

“Me. I-I object.” Bakugou never whipped around so fast to see Kaminari Denki holding his hand up. To say that the explosive hero had wide eyes would be an understatement, jaw dropping as he quickly turned his head to look at you with a confused written expression. Kirishima blushed, his face now matching his hair as he looked to the ground, scratching his neck, “I- Y/N…” as he tried to form words, he just couldn’t, Kaminari now stepping to be in front of kiri grabbing his hands. “Please… choose me. I’m begging you Eijiro, you can’t possibly sit here and say that we aren’t worth fighting for.”

Your eyes quickly scanned the two men before you as you started laughing, rubbing your hands over your face as you simply took off your heels and started walking away, “even if you said no, I’m not gonna marry you and see you unhappy Kiri… you deserve to be truly happy.” Even if you didn’t turn around, Bakugou could tell you were starting to cry, because he’s heard that tone of voice before. Kirishima tried forming words but he only looked away ashamed, “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you… I’m so sorry”

Bakugou was in such shock he didn’t know what to do, but before he decided he was already running after you, trying to reach you before it was too late. Bursting through the doors he squinted his eyes from the shining sun, blinking a couple of times to find himself laying on the ground and looking at Kirishima and Kaminari looking down at him with worried faces. “Bakugou? Can you hear me? C'mon bro you can’t not be okay, Y/N needs you.” A shaky voice that belonged to his best friend made Bakugou try and focus better, groaning as he rubbed his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Going to sit up, Kirishima put his hand on bakugou's shoulder, “Take it easy… there was a villain with a powerful nightmare quirk and it was crazy, you wouldn’t respond to anything but passed out after an hour.” Soaking in the new information, he was confused. What the hell was he just living in?

“I need Y/N… where is she?” Kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “Don’t worry, she’s at her job. We texted her already and she said she’ll be on her way soon…” Bakugou nodded slowly, taking a deep breath in, “Good… good.” A frown appeared on the red head's face, “That villain really did a number on you huh?” The meek nod from Katsuki only made Kirishima frown harder, “It’s okay man… it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real….”

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu @xxlushika @lov4kbg @aj-1154 @six-piece-chicken-mcnobody @nekee-lilac02

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #ely here #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugouimaginedarlingely #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki imagine #bnha katsuki x reader

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haikyuuwaifu · 5 years ago

Text

Broken Promise

MASTERLIST

PART IV:

warning: ANGST; MILD SWEARING

A/N: THIS PART IS A TOUCH LONGER THAN THE REST

*18 Years old*

Your third and final year at Fukurodani was probably the hardest. You never really cared much for test taking or academics. More often than not you coasted on the seat of your pants; however, your parents wanted you to do well and get into a good college. Getting into a good college meant studying and preparing for entrance exams. For Akaashi, third year meant captaining the volleyball team and preparing for the entrance exams to the only school he wanted to attend. Between volleyball and studying the two of you spent less and less time together. Walking to school in the mornings was non-existent because he always had morning practice. Akaashi ended up walking home alone because you were caught up in the library or helping one of the art students with their modeling assignments. You found that you enjoyed being in front of a camera, and you enjoyed standing in a room and watching art students paint how they perceived you.

The slight distance didn’t deter you, you always made sure you texted him good morning and good night. You checked up on him during the day and when you remembered you always packed an extra bento. For all you knew, everything was fine.

Three months into the school year, you finally had your schedule down! You finally had time to spend time with your Kaashi-chan, and to celebrate that; you packed an extra bento and onigiri to split with him at lunchtime. When the lunch bell rang you made your way to your boyfriends class, sliding the door open you greet your classmates and make your way over to your boyfriend's desk. “Kaashi-chan!” you grin enthusiastically pulling the bento out of your bag; “I brought an extra bento and onigiri I thought we could have lunch together; I finally have the hang of my schedule down so we can spend more time together.” you ramble digging for your chopsticks. “Who is this jiji-chan?” you hear and snap your head in the direction of the new voice. Akaashi waves his hand in your direction. “This is [name]-chan, she’s my girlfriend, [name]-chan this is Michi-san she’s the new volleyball club manager.” “Thanks for bringing extra lunch, but Michi-san already offered because she accidentally made extra.” he states stroking your hand. You smile tightly; “It’s fine Kaashi-chan; do you want to walk home together today?” you ask sitting down picking at your lunch. He scratches his neck and sighs. “I really would, but I have longer practice to get ready for Prelims; and I don’t want you to wait for me.” “We can spend time together this weekend okay?” he asks patting your hand and resuming his conversation with the girl sitting next to him.

That weekend was the first of many weekends Akaashi broke with you.

The turning point of your relationship was six months later when Fukurodani went to nationals. Things with you and Akaashi were tenuous at best. You saw each other twice a week at this point and one of those times was for weekly family dinners. Every time you tried to spend time with him, he always managed to have plans. He was studying with Michi. He was helping her learn how to play volleyball. From the time you met her to the present she has been nothing but a stain on a relationship that spanned 11 years. You and Akaashi have never really fought throughout the entirety of your relationship. You knew each other so well there was no need to argue, because your communication was top tier. You brought up a number of times the fact that you two never saw each other anymore. You brought up the fact that all of his free time was spent with someone else. And he listened...everytime you brought it up he would coax you into his arms with kisses and soft words. He’d whisper in your hair that he was sorry and he would do better. He did do better for a day or two; and he was right back at it again, dipping out and already having plans. But you loved him...deep down you knew he was your Kaashi-chan, and you loved him with every fiber of your being.

The night before nationals you and Akaashi had a rare moment alone together. Your parents invited his family over for dinner. You both laid in the grass in your backyard pinkies touching staring up at the stars scattered across the sky. “Kaashi-chan” you whispered softly. He grunted in acknowledgement. “You still love me right?” you asked, turning to your side to look him in the eye. “Of course I love you [name]-chan” he scoffed turning to face you. “Why would you question that?” you shifted slightly. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together and before you know it we’ll be out of school and moving forward...I had to make sure you still loved me.” you whispered softly picking at the grass. He gripped your hands in his and tilted your chin up. “Of course I love you, and when we graduate we’ll both go to Tokyo University and pursue our dreams together.” he grinned stroking your cheek. You sighed into his hand. “Kaashi, I...I’m not going to Tokyo University...I’ve already talked to my parents and they said the would help cover the cost of my headshots; but I’m going to become a model.” you whispered looking him in the eye. He pulled his hand back slightly. “ How can you choose something with no stability [name]-chan, haven’t you learned nothing over the years?” he huffed sitting up. “It’s not that I havent learned anything Kaashi...I just want to do what makes me happy...and modeling makes me happy.” you state tugging him closer to you. “I don’t want to fight with you tonight, especially when you have a big match tomorrow, so can we put this on the back burner?” He nods pulling you into his arms. “I love you” you whispered. “I love you too” he mumbled as you interlocked your pinkies once more.

~Nationals~

You spent the whole of nationals in the Fukurodani cheering section supporting Akaashi. You met up with Bokuto and some old friends from Gym 3 before the games started. You laughed, you cried, and you were on the edge of your seat watching Fukurodani dominate. The last day Fukurodani was in the final match against Inarizaki. You attempted to get Akaashi’s attention so you could blow him a kiss for good luck, but he was too busy talking to Michi. You couldn’t let it get to you though; this was his big moment! You watched on the edge of your seat as Fukurodani and Inarizaki played a full 5 sets never taking your eyes off Akaashi. With great anticipation you watched as Akaashi did a setter dump scoring the winning point! You were so happy you were screaming and crying;jumping up and down with Bokuto and Kuroo. You made your way down the steps trying to get to Akaashi only to stop in your tracks at the edge of the court as you watched your boyfriend of five years swing Michi around and pull her in for a kiss. His arms around her waist and her arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. You watched it unfold with a sick gut wrenching feeling. Your breathing heavy as your eyes filled with tears waiting to spill. You turned and ran bumping into fans waiting to congratulate the team. You ran as far as you could stopping at a park bench; heaving over as loud sobs wracked your body.

You didn’t know how long you were there. In the moment all you cared about was the numbness of your heart as you thought back to the last five years and how it all changed in the blink of an eye. A gentle hand prodded your side, “You alright?” they asked. You shook your head curling further into yourself. You felt them wrap their arms around your back and under your legs. Picking you up they started walking in the direction they came. “It’s gonna start raining soon, and I don't think ya should be out. Ya could get sick or somethin.” You nodded along with the stranger that found you. “ Ya don’t look like ya wanna talk much, but I don’t know where I’m going” he declares glancing down at you. You sigh softly and whisper, “just take me to the closest bus stop...I’m sorry for the trouble.” and that’s the last thing you say as the two of you walk to the nearest bus stop.

Hours later you're in your bed curled up. You’ve already shut your phone off and closed your curtains. You can’t find it in you to move from the position you put yourself in when you got home. Luckily enough, your parents were out so you didn’t have to face their inquisitions. As you lay there staring into darkness you hear a tap on your window. The tapping gets louder but you don’t move. You hear a click and your window is slid open. Standing in your bedroom is the one man you don’t think you can stomach seeing. Akaashi stares at you reaching his hand out to touch you. You flinch as you try to make yourself as small as possible. He sighs and sits in your desk chair. Raking his hands through his hair he says, “[name]...it was an accident. It didn’t mean anything and it was in the heat of the moment.” he claims folding his hands together. “I've spent the last number of hours looking for you, and you have everyone worried sick.” he scolds running his fingers through his hair. You take note of how jittery he is and the fact that he can’t seem to sit still. “Why Akaashi...why would you do something like that” you ask, peeking out of your blanket. “It was an accident, like i t-”; “Bullshit!” you scream ripping the blanket off. “I saw you grab and kiss another fucking woman!” you rage squeezing your fists together. “I've been watching you for months! Making plans with her, eating her lunches, giving her your jacket...it’s like I don’t exist to you anymore Akaashi!” you scream falling to your knees tears streaming down your cheeks. He stares as you break down, shaking his head. “[name]...I don’t think I can do this anymore.” he declares as your whimpering turns into soft sobbing. “I’m going to Tokyo University, that’s always been my plan and you know that...and I can’t...Michi is the kind of woman who understands me...she understands my life plan and instead of going against it...she wants to be a part of it.” he continues as you continue to shake. “What happened to pinky promise Akaashi?” you ask between sobs. “What happened to love and be loved Keiji Akaashi!” you scream at him. He scoffs, shaking his head. “We aren’t little kids anymore [name], this is the real world now and there's no room for nonsense like that.” he pats your head. “I’ll give you a few weeks and then we can resume our normal friendship.” he states climbing back out the window. You grab the nearest object to you and throw at him screaming into the night.

PART III|PART V

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu scenarios

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meterokinesis · 5 years ago

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Caged Birds Still Sing

Read it on AO3

Prompt: explosion, kidnapping, tearful smile

Summary: Tim's been kidnapped before. He doesn't know if he's getting out this time.

It had been three days since Tim had been kidnapped by the League of Assassins. This time was significantly less nice than the last, and then he’d been missing an organ.

He was in the same lavish rooms, with their silk sheets and gilded mirrors, but the lock on the door had been changed. Where Tim had once been allowed to come and go, he was now stuck here. The door locked from the outside, and the only other point of escape was the large balcony, where iron bars arched overhead. He was a Red Robin in a golden cage.

Meals came at regular times. A crossword puzzle came with his breakfast, and on his second day a copy of War and Peace came with lunch. He’d been stripped of all his trackers and gadgets when he got here, which had been replaced with the silks of the League.

Tim was well acquainted with kidnapping. Having been the only heir to the Drake fortune, he had been kidnapped twice as a child, once when he was three and once when he was eight. He didn’t remember much, other than the shrieks of police sirens when he’d finally been found. Once he started as Robin, the kidnappings began in earnest. He was never gone for longer than a night or two, and Bruce always saved him. He was Batman, that was what he did.

So Tim bided his time, sipping ginger tea and doing crossword puzzles and reading Tolstoy. Soon, Bruce would come.

On the fourth day, Tim received his first visitor. He was on the balcony, taking his breakfast under the bright desert sun. He looked up to see Ra’s al Ghul, the reflection of his jewelry practically blinding against the shadowy backdrop of Tim’s chambers. Tim took another bite of toast.

“Hello, Detective,” he drawled as Tim squinted up at him.

“Oh, hello,” Tim said quietly. “Have you made up your mind on whether or not you’re killing me yet?” Ra’s didn’t laugh, but Tim didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t known for his sense of humor.

“See, there’s only so many reasons you’d keep me here,” Tim continued. “You don’t need intel, because you already know everything about us. You don’t need money, because you’re richer than God. I’m either here because you want to trade me for something, you need me to code, or you still want that heir.”

A venomous smile spread on Ra’s face. “Clever boy.” The words stilled Tim, his toast abandoned on his plate. “Now, follow me.”

Ra’s swept out of the room and Tim followed, keeping sure to hold his head high. His mother would be proud. Even being led to his doom, he wouldn’t let the facade fall. As they walked through the Cradle, Tim refused to meet the eyes of the assassins that milled about. He could feel their gazes tear at him, but he let the wounds pile up.

Ra’s study was incredibly simple, but nice all the same. It looked like an older version of every board member’s home office. Tim despised it.

Ra’s gestured for him to sit in one of the stiff chairs, and Tim complied. The head assassin remained standing, his fingertips brushing over the manuscripts that lined the walls.

“I feel as if we know each other well enough by now, Detective. You spent quite a bit of time with us before you decided to defect. You know that I do not play, I win.” Tim stared ahead, trying his best to keep his face blank.

“So, here is what you will do. And you will do it, Detective. You will notify Batman that you are turning in your cape to work for me. You will tell him not to search for you.”

Tim cleared his throat. “And if I don’t?”

Ra’s smirked, as if he expected the question. “Then I will instruct the assassins following your civilian friends to put bullets in their skulls. I don’t believe Mr. Fox will appreciate losing two of his daughters in one day. I know Commissioner Gordon wouldn’t be a fan. Nor Ms. Ives.”

Tim nodded shallowly. “So it’s them or me?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Why exactly do you want me so badly? Why not Damian or Bruce?”

Ra’s laughed darkly. “Because your spirit will be so much more fun to break.”

___________

That night, when he was safely back in his beautiful cage, Tim began his letter.

Dear Bruce (and Dick and Jason and Babs and Cass and Damian and Steph),

Since my return to Gotham, something has been missing in my life. I’ve decided to come back to the League of Assassins in an attempt to solve that emptiness. This is of my own volition. Do not come looking for me, I do not want to be found. I love you all.

Always yours,

Tim

He fell asleep watching the moon shine through iron bars, wondering if this is how every criminal he ever put away felt.

___________

It took two days for Ra’s to start giving Tim tasks around the Cradle. Small ones, mostly filing. Some putting pieces together. It felt as if even with all of Ra’s power over life and death, he didn’t know much about order. Tim slogged through the work, waiting for time to tick down. He fixed small loopholes and backdoors and monitored agents in the field. It was easy work, at least when Tim forgot about the trained killer hovering just outside his door.

At night, he scratched out notes on the pages of Tolstoy. Short snippets, like “I’m sorry” and “Thank you” and “I always loved you.” They’d never see the light of day, but they made him feel better.

During his free time, he fixed the computer wiring and did odd electrical tasks around the Cradle. It was as if no one there knew how to use a soldering iron. As much as the menial tasks frustrated him, they kept his hands busy and kept Ra’s off his back.

___________

Rescue came two weeks after Tim Drake was kidnapped. He was in the main hall when the alarms of the breach sounded. Assassins streamed around him, all headed to their respectful stations. Tim headed to the control room.

The control room was small and filled with screens. A skylight gave the tiniest bit of natural light twenty feet above. Tim busied himself with the controls, monitoring the cameras and putting the last minute details on his plan.

Rapping came from the skylight, and Tim looked up to see Steph waving at him. He hesitated for half a moment, then nodded. She shattered the glass and rappelled down, landing with a quiet thud.

“Tim, here,” she whispered and pressed a comms unit into his hand. He nodded and placed it in his ear.

“I need all of you to listen to me. You need to leave,” he began, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“We’re not leaving you-” Dick butted in, but Tim cut him off.

“You have to. If you don’t, civilians die. People we love die. I-I can’t let that happen.” Stephanie placed a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. “I have a plan, but I can’t pull it off if you’re here.”

“We’ll let you take point on this, Red Robin.” Bruce’s low voice calmed the nerves racing through Tim’s veins. If Batman said it would be okay, it would be okay.

“You have three minutes to evacuate,” Tim finished, then slipped the comm unit out of his ear.

“Tim…” Stephanie whispered, reaching out for him. This time, he let her hold his hand, running his thumb over the seams of her gloves.

“Hey Stephie,” he murmured, trying his best to muster a smile. “You have to go, okay? You have to be a hero. For me.” She shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, but he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Go,” he urged, and she nodded. With one last squeeze of her hand, she was grappling back through the skylight. He watched as she disappeared, and tried not to let his heart break too much.

He readied the plan, fingers flying faster than he could remember ever doing before. Hands trembling, he placed the comms unit back in his ear just as it crackled to life.

“We’re all out, Red Robin. We’re a kilometer away, in one of the nearby caves. What’s your ETA?”

Tim smiled shakily. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you. The Cradle’s undergoing self-destruction. I set up the protocol while Ra’s thought I was doing busy work.”

“Tim, you can’t be serious.” For the first time in years, Tim thought he heard fear in Bruce’s voice. “We can still get you out.”

“Someone needs to make sure it goes through with no interference. If Ra’s wants me so bad, he can have me.” Tim suddenly became aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving me. Now it’s time to let me save you.”

Despite the layered protests in his ear, Tim pressed the figurative big red button. As tears stained his face, he smiled. At least he would go out saving people. That’s all he had ever wanted to do.

The numbers ticked down on the screen. 8… 7… 6…

“I love you,” Tim rasped.

3… 2… 1…

The world went white, and then there was nothing.

#whumptober 2020 #my writing #tim drake #kidnapping tw #explosion tw #ra's al ghul #bruce wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #batman #nightwing #batgirl #red robin

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wolferals · 5 years ago

Text

🌹HIGHSCHOOL SWEETHEARTS🌹

arón piper preference

-it was your first day of senior year at the new school

-your mom and dad made you move to spain by the beginning of august and its was september when you first set a foot into your new hell

-of course your alarm didnt go off and you were almost late

-you were wearing black jeans with a red tight shirt and a flannel on top

-your hair was up in a messy bun that still looked kinda stylish

-when you walked through the strange looking hallway you got more and more nervous

-what if they would be mean?

-what if they dont speak english?

-what if they hate me because im new?

-you worried a lot

-but you had no choice but to enter the classroom with the number 121

-since it wasnt 9 yet there werent many people and no one even noticed you walking in

-you sat down on a free chair in the back and put your backpack on the floor

-then you started observing

-the girls looked alright, they didn’t look like people that would treat you like shit

-there were two boys laughing and talking in spanish pretty loudly

-and there was this one guy sitting in the opposite corner, hood over his head and his phone in his hands

-from the way he was sitting he seemed bored, maybe tired?

-you could only see a bit of his face though he looked kind of sad

-but maybe he was just tired because it was the first day after summer and all

-after everyone had sat down a very tall woman came in and put her name onto the board

-she looked strict

-then she started talking in spanish and you knew you were fucked

-this was supposed to be english class but they were still speaking spanish

-so you leaned back and looked around and kind of ignored the teacher

-you didn’t understand anyway

-until you heard your name

-„y/n trabaja con arón, no?“

-you raised your hand and spoke:“sorry i don’t understand, what about me?“

-the teacher smiled and answered:“oh right you‘re the new girl. I just said that you will be working with Arón.“

-„work on what?“ you asked confused

-she came up to you and then explained:“We do this every year that the students team up and do a project together. This years topic is „drama“, you could either talk about a dramatic book or movie in general or become creative.“

-you nodded at her and eventually looked around to figure out who this arón is

-„when‘s the project due?“

-she walked back to the front and said:“You got a month“ in a harsh tone suddenly

-after the first 4 classes you were sitting outside looking through the english text book when someone stepped into your view

-you looked up

-„hola.“ the guy with the hood from before stood there

-„hey.“ you answered and he looked around while putting both his hands in his pockets

-„im arón.“ he then said

-you looked at him and replied:“Okay?“

-„yes.“ arón said back

-„ohhh right! Project partner!“

-he nodded and then asked:“Do you want to start today?“

-you nodded as well and answered:“sure, at your place?“

-aron agreed and then gave you his number so you could text about it again

-its been 3 weeks of you two working on the project when you finally had the courage to ask him

-„why do i never see you talking to anyone in our class?“

-he seemed alone all the time

-and you were a little concerned because from what you‘ve seen he‘s a really nice guy with a huge heart

-he was a little shy but could be hilarious and charming occasionally

-you guys were sitting on his desk just finishing some posters

-„i think its because the other boys are better?“

-he looked sad again

-„what why?“ you asked seriously not understanding his statement

-he leaned back, scratched the back of his head and replied:“i dont know, they just dont like me. Im not really attractive i think.“

-you were seriously mad at him now

-why would he think that?

-i mean you werent ready to date him after knowing him for only 3 weeks but you could imagine it after some time

-„you dont think you‘re attractive?“ you asked looking deep into his chocolate eyes, trying to understand what he was thinking

-„no.“ he simply spoke and put on a fake smile

-„oh no, arón.“

-without waiting for a response you hugged him as tight as you could

-it took him a bit to hug back but then he grabbed onto your waist

-„dont say that, ever! You‘re a great guy!“

-he laughed quietly and let go of you again

-„i swear, you‘re cute! And you‘re the only person who was nice enough to talk to me. Well.. you kind of had to because of the project but its been 3 weeks and no one except you showed any interest in me.“

-arón smiled at you and pulled up his sleeves. „you‘re really nice. i like you.“

-„i like you too cabrón.“

-he laughed, showing the gap inbetween his front teeth

-„you learned a spanish word!“ he clapped a little

-„thank you.“ you laughed too and then said „gracias guapo.“

-he grinned and then asked:“do you know what you just said?“

-„no.“ you smiled and leaned back

-aron leaned forward and whispered:“you just called me hot“

-you shrugged your shoulders and just answered:“well.“

-another couple of weeks later you and aron got really close and you spent almost every minute together

-in your breaks he taught you spanish, which you slightly failed but it made him laugh hearing you mispronounce words

-and it made you happy seeing this cute boy laugh

-after class you guys hung out

-either watched a movie, spent some more time with spanish, walking through Luarca or playing video games

-you felt like now you guys were on a level where arón was fully comfortable around you

-he told you about the problems with his parents and then he told you the story why no one talked to him in class

-„it was 2 years ago.“ he spoke taking deep breaths every now and then

-you were sitting in front of him looking at his face while he was telling you the story

-„i was with this girl, her name‘s Ana (sorry if thats your name). I did everything to make her happy but it was never enough. She cheated on me with this soccer player and told everyone that i cheated on her. No one believed her because someone saw her kiss this boy.

But then one day she came to school with scars and black spots and when the teacher asked what happened she said i hit her, which is not true! She cried in front of everyone so they believed her. I was suspended and now everyone in school now thinks im aggressive.“

-he had started crying a little while telling you the story

-„arón no!“ you took him in your arms and gave him a kiss on his soft curls

-„i believe you! You wouldnt hit anyone.“

-aron hugged you tightly and rubbed your back softly

-„te quiero“ he then told you but since your spanish was still bad you didnt know what it meant and just kind of ignored his statement

-the next day in class you told aron to talk to one of his ex best friends and first he didnt want to but you kind of forced him

-when he walked up to him and sat down you could hear this guy getting loud right away

-aron talked to him for a while, more like discussing

-he this guy hit him in the jaw and aron stumbled backwards

-„hijo de puta!“ you heard aron yell at the guy but unfortunately the teacher was right behind him

-„Arón Piper. Oficina del director. Ahora.“

-he gave you a quick glance, grabbed his back and then left the classroom looking hella mad

-„he didnt do anything! He hit him.“ you then basically yelled at the teacher

-„y/n please sit down.“ she spoke and pointed at your seat

-„no its fucking unfair how aron is being treated here. Dont you see how painful it must be to be hated because of a misunderstanding?“

-the teacher had lightly grabbed your arm to calm you down

-„y/n, please.“

-a girl then stood up and said:“arón is an asshole and a loser. Also why do you hang out with him? Like, you could have better.“ she looked at a certain guy in the front row

-you couldnt believe it

-„god you guys suck so bad! Ive known aron for only a month now and i already know that he‘s a better person than you all together! You know why? Because he‘s a real human fucking being. He is nice, caring and sweet and doesnt judge anyone by their looks, whats wrong with you people?“

-„y/n enough! Principals office!“ your teacher yelled back at you making you stomp out full of anger

-at the principals office you found out that aron only got told to be nicer to them

-„what happened to you?“ he asked coming your way in the hallway

-but you were too mad to talk so you walked a little faster

-and grabbed his head

-you kissed him rather roughly in the middle of the hallway

-he was surprised but kissed you back and put his hands on your waist

-your kiss was rough yet passionate and sweet

-you felt like he let it all out

-all thats ever made him upset

-and you just wanted his kisses

-he was the perfect guy for you

-no matter how he saw himself

-he was good looking, smart, talented, sweet and the best spanish teacher you‘d ever imagined

-„arón piper! Y/n y/l/n, you can come back here right away.“

-you pulled away

-the principal was standing in the door staring at both of you

-„puta.“ you whispered, then smiled at him and grabbed his hand to pull him to the principals office

-„here we go again.“

#preference #aronpiper #cute #omander #elite #aronxreader #ander #preferences

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calumance · 5 years ago

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La Devotee - Part XIV

Warnings: cussing (probably), gets a little racy but not many details, fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: The first night with Calum gone, Emily decided to get a little brave over FaceTime.

A/N: It’s Saturday (kind of, it’s midnight so technically it’s Sunday), but as promised I am updating so that I don’t forget about this lovely WIP. Thank you to everyone who continues to read!! 💖💖🥰🥰(also thank you to @thesubtweeter for finding that gif for me, love you mucho 😘) Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! (Want to be tagged? Let me know!)

Masterlist

After the guys were out of sight, Crystal held onto me and allowed me to cry for a while. Once I composed myself and we walked out together. She parted from me as I approached Calum’s Range Rover, and I waved at her. I was standing at the driver’s door, I realized I had never driven Calum’s car, only driven in it. If it had been up to me, we would’ve taken my car, but he thought his baggage fit better in the back of his car. As I sat in the driver’s seat, I ran my hands up and down on the steering wheel. I turned the key in the ignition and listened as the engine roared to life. Before pulling out of the parking spot, I dialed Mikayla’s number. If I didn’t actively talk to someone, I was going to cry the entire way home.

“Hey, Em.” She knew today was the day Calum was leaving, and she knew how it was absolutely destroying me. “How’d it go?” Even though I knew she would literally take my call at any point during the day, I glanced to the clock to see what time it was. A sigh fell from my chest realizing she was at lunch, it meant I had the entire drive home to talk to her.

“I ugly cried in the middle of the airport.” I ran my hand over my forehead and sighed. “I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I just, sobbed, and it’s not even like he isn’t coming back. I just wasn’t ready.” My elbow leaned on the edge by the window as I turned onto the highway.

She sighed, trying to console me. “Did you tell him?” I wanted to slam my head on the steering wheel. Of course I wanted to tell him, that would’ve been the best moment to tell him. It took everything in me to not tell him. My resounding silence gave away my answer. “Emily, why did you not tell him? You made it very clear to me that you want to tell him in person, that was your last chance for the next two months.” She kept going.

I hit my hand on the steering wheel, the anxiety and the anger finally boiling over. “Because what if he doesn’t love me back?” I yelled, and she stopped talking, almost as if I stole her voice right out of her throat. I cleared my throat and spoke softer, “What if he’s not at the same point I am in our relationship? I don’t want to tell him I love him right as he’s leaving for tour and have him just say, like, ‘okay’ or something.” Mikayla stayed quiet, just letting out a sigh. My eyes closed for a split second, trying to calm my own mind. “I know I should’ve told him, but he didn’t exactly make me feel as if he wanted to hear it.”

The sound of her fork clinking told me she was getting frustrated with me. “Emily, he is in love with you. It’s obvious by the way he looks at you. He’s probably just waiting for you to say it first.” My stomach twisted with regret, but it wasn’t like I could go back and say it. With a sigh and another minute of absolute silence, I changed the subject and continued to drive towards the house. Our timing was perfect since right as I pulled into the driveway, Mikayla said it was time to go back to work. I bid her a goodbye and quickly made my way into the house.

The house was eerily quiet, and eerily empty. My heart twisted as I placed Calum’s car keys in the bowl next to the door. Duke came padding towards me, tail wagging. As I walked behind him toward the back door, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to text Calum. “I just got home. It’s quiet here without you. I hope you have a safe flight. Call me when you land. Xx” My phone found it’s home in my pocket as I tried to continue the rest of my afternoon alone.

It was around nine in the evening when I found myself cuddled underneath a blanket on the couch with Duke sleeping in the bend of my knees. My phone started to ring, causing both Duke and me to jump. Realizing how long it had been since I got home, I scrambled to grab my phone. My stomach filled with butterflies seeing his face on my screen. “Hey, handsome.” I answered, my bottom lip finding its way between my teeth.

“Hey, sunshine. We just landed, we’re headed for the hotel and then we have an insanely busy day tomorrow.” His voice was like angels singing. My stomach twisted as all I could think about was touching and kissing him.

My eye shut and I rubbed my cheek. “I’m glad you had a safe flight. Do you want to face time me once you get to your hotel room?”

“Yeah, I should be settled in like a half hour. I’ll call you then?” There was voices all around him, sounding like they were directing him. Then it suddenly got loud, like he was in a crowd. “I’m sorry, babe, I have to let you go. Talk to you in a bit.” I wasn’t able to get a word in before he hung up. I tapped my phone against my forehead a few times before standing up and heading towards the bedroom. Duke followed behind me and jumped onto the bed. I started shuffling through the drawers that held my clothes remembering I had something that I had bought a long time ago that Calum would enjoy.

I looked at myself in the mirror, the blue lace nightie still fitting the way it had when I bought it almost four years ago. I lifted my arm and ripped the tag that was still attached off and then spun around and looked at the little dog who’s tail began to wag. “What do you think? You think your pops will like this?” Duke barked as if he completely understood what I was saying and I giggled, leaning forward to scratch under his chin.

Just as I finished scratching Duke’s chin, my phone rang. I answered, holding my phone just far enough that Calum was only able to see from my shoulders up. When he showed up on my screen, he was laying on a bed, covered in white sheets. He looked tired, but not tired enough to flash me a bright smile. “Hello, my love.” He said while lifting his free hand to place it under his head.

“How’s the hotel, darling?” I sat on the end of our bed and held onto the phone. Duke trotted up next to me and I looked down at him.

Calum shrugged and looked around. “It’s alright. I’ve stayed in so many hotels that they all are kind of the same at this point. Nothing will be as good as my own bed with my girl in it.” He turned to reach for the lamp and I felt my cheeks flush.

“Your girl, huh?” He looked at the phone, a smirk pulling at his lips. He just nodded, and then put his hand back under his head. My eyes flickered down at my specially chosen outfit for him, and I pulled my lips into my mouth out of nervousness. “You don’t have to share your room or anything, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, we always get our own rooms. I love those guys, but not that much.” He chuckled and I couldn’t help but chuckle back.

My eyes flickered back to my phone screen, and I pulled my eyebrows together. “Can I show you something?” He nodded, eyebrows furrowing. I pushed myself off the bed and held onto the phone perfectly still as I placed it on the TV stand. “Promise you’ll be nice?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, “I’ll be nice, what are you going to show me?” After I was sure my phone was stationary, I stood up, exposing the lace outfit. His eyes widened and he shifted so that he was sitting up and ran his hand that had been under his head down his face. His fingers paused on his lips, but the wide smile behind his fingers could not be hidden. “When did you get that?”

I looked down and ran my hands down my sides. “Like, four years ago? I’ve never worn it, the tags were still on it when I just put it on.” My head lifted back to my screen and I bit my bottom lip. “Do you like it?”

Calum let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, yeah, I like it. What does the back look like?” He asked, his face flushing a slight pink. As he chewed on his bottom lip, I turned to show him the open back and the large amount of exposed skin. He released his lip and replaced it with his finger and stared at the phone, his eyes darkening. As I turn back around, he smirks and runs his hand through his hair again, only this time leaving his hand on the top of his head. “So, if this is what I get for being gone one night, what am I going to get when I’m gone for thirty nights?”

I smiled and shifted my weight, biting my bottom lip. “Not sure, I guess we’ll have to see in thirty days.” As I picked up my phone, Calum blinked and his eyes returned to their normal color. Calum cleared his throat as I sat back at the end of the bed. “I think I might go change and get ready for bed. Do you want me to let you go and we can talk tomorrow?”

Calum ran his hand up and down his cheek, “Can I see your outfit one more time?” I nodded and put my phone back on the TV stand. “You’re so beautiful, Emily. Can I see the back again?” Without a word, I turned around. “Thanks, baby. I just wanted to see you one more time. Will you call me back when you get into bed?” I smiled and nodded. He smiled back and hung up.

After I was sure he had hung up, I pulled out a pair of shorts and grabbed one of Calum’s sweatshirts that he left behind. Duke and I traveled around the house for a while, making sure everything was locked up and grabbed a glass of water. Once all the lights were off and I was sure the doors were locked, Duke and I made our way back to the bedroom. Duke jumped back onto the bed as I set my glass on the night stand and then made my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I leaned against the door frame to stare at the empty bed in front of me, Duke’s tail wagging slightly, as if to remind me that it wasn’t completely empty.

I climbed into bed, leaving the blanket around my hips. The face time tone rang out a few times before it ended and asked if I wanted to try again. Today had been a long day, so it wasn’t surprising that he probably fell asleep in the amount of time it took me to get ready for bed. After I placed my phone on the night stand, I rolled onto my side and pulled Calum’s sweater over my nose to take in the scent of his cologne. Tonight was going to be a rough night.

My eyes were wide open when my alarm started going off. I closed my eyes in frustration and groaned. The entire night as spent tossing and turning. If this is how I am going to sleep every night for the next two months, then I have no idea how I am going to survive. I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest and rubbed my eyes before stretching my arm out to shut my alarm off. As I shut the alarm off, I grabbed my phone and saw there was a text message from Calum. The time stamp was from two hours ago. He must’ve had problems sleeping as well. “I’m sorry I missed your call, sunshine. I fell asleep, been tossing and turning all night. Have to be up in a few hours for an interview, I miss you so, so much. Have a great day at work. Xx Cal.”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and tapped a message back to him. “It’s okay, you had a long day yesterday. I tossed and turned all night as well, the next two months are going to be horrible. Have a great day as well, honey. Xx” My phone bounced a little as I tossed it onto the bed to head into the bathroom to shower, and get ready for work.

My shower felt refreshing, but it still didn’t rid of the exhaustion sitting behind my eyes. After curling my hair and putting on my make up, I pulled on a pair of tight black jeans, a white tank top, a pale pink, loose fitting, long sleeved button up, and a pair of pointed toe high heels, the same color as my top. I grabbed my phone and placed it in my back pocket as I opened the bedroom door and followed Duke into the kitchen. The door slid open as I opened it for him and he went bounding outside into the grassy patch in the backyard. I left the door open for Duke to come back in when he was done when I turned and started making my coffee. Duke came trotting back in as soon as I put his food bowl down on the ground and gave the top of his head a light scratch.

After locking the back door, I grabbed my bag, and my coffee and squatted next to Duke, “Have a good day, handsome boy.” I kissed the top of his head and headed out the front door, locking it behind me.

“Welcome back!” Mikayla announced, turning in her chair to greet me. “How was your first night with Calum gone?” Mikayla put the straw hanging out of her cup to her lips as she spun to watch me as I made my way to my desk.

I placed my bag in the bottom drawer and closed it with my foot. “I tossed and turned all night. I don’t know how I’m going to survive two months.” Mikayla gave me a look asking if anything else happened. I placed my hands over my face in embarrassment as I plopped down into my chair. “I found this lace outfit I’ve had for a long time. The tags were still on it, I figured he’d enjoy it.” She raised her eyebrows. “It was your idea! Why are you acting so surprised?”

She dropped the straw out of her mouth and laughed in offense, “I told you to do something sexy, not basically stand naked in front of the phone.”

“Oh god.” I laughed and put my hands over my face again. “I don’t even know how to top that? Now he’s going to expect me to be half naked every time he calls me at night.” My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it out. “Busy day ahead of me. I’ll FaceTime you tonight when I get back to the hotel. Thinking about you, I know I haven’t seen you today, but you look beautiful. Xx Cal.”

My cheeks flushed, and I tapped my phone, trying to think of what to say back. “Thank you, maybe I’ll take a picture and send it to you later. Can’t wait for the FaceTime date tonight. Sorry I don’t have any sexy outfits planned. Xx”

The gray bubble appeared and I waited for the message to come through. “That’s okay, sunshine. I just want to see you, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. I would love a picture, you always dress so wonderfully for work. Michael says hi. Xx Cal.” I set my phone on my desk and concentrated on my work before my boss bit my head off.

When lunch came around, I told Mikayla that I’d meet her downstairs. As I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, I pushed the door to the restroom open. Quickly, I stood in front of the floor length mirror and snapped a picture of myself. Before leaving the restroom, I sent the picture to Calum without a caption. When I opened the door Mikayla was standing on the other side, causing me to jump out of my skin. “What-cha doing, Em?”

“I know what this looks like, but all I did was send him a picture of my outfit.” I turned my phone towards her to prove it. Mikayla shook her head with a laugh and we walked together towards the elevator. Once we stepped into the elevator, I sighed. “Do you want to come spend the night on Friday?”

“I thought you’d never ask. I’ll have Trevor drop me off here on Friday morning, that way we can go to your house together.” Mikayla smiled and nudged me.

As I opened the front door, Duke came running to greet me. I set my bag on the floor and squatted down to scratch his head. He ran away satisfied by the interaction and I reached down to take my shoes off. I carried them into the bedroom and tucked them away and changed into some sweatpants and Calum’s sweater that I slept in the night before. The house was lonely without him, and it never failed that I’d turn a corner and expect him to be there, and it never failed to surprise me that he wasn’t. Calum had made sure to make a trip to the grocery store with me before he left so I had food to last me a while. Which was nice, but the thought of eating right now made my stomach turn. Instead, I grabbed a glass of water and made my way to the living room and turned on the TV.

I was on my tenth consecutive episode of The Office when my phone started ringing, scaring the ever living hell out of me. Calum’s contact photo appeared on my screen and I answered the Face Time. He was lying in the same hotel bed he had been lying in the night before, he was wearing a grey hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He smiled a tired smile, “Hey, gorgeous.”

My back touched the back of the couch and I smiled back at him. “How was your day?”

He turned his head and yawned, moving the hood off his head as he scratched through his blonde hair, “Busy. Sometimes we don’t even get a chance to eat, thankfully most interviews are accompanied by snack tables. How was your day?” He rubbed his eye, trying to keep the other one open.

I shrugged, most days I have nothing exciting to report to him, it’s been that way since we met. “It was alright, nothing exciting ever happens.” A chuckle left my chest and he let out a chuckle as well. His eyes stayed closed and I could tell he was absolutely exhausted. “Cal, do you want me to let you go so you can get some sleep?” He protested against hanging up through fighting off sleep. “Honey, you’re falling asleep.”

He hummed and got in a more comfortable position. “Can you just leave the call on and I’ll go to sleep?” He opened his eyes long enough to place his phone up right on the night table next to him. He reached above the phone and switched off the lamp. “Good night, sunshine. You can hang up in a little bit. I just want to fall asleep seeing you.” He kissed his fingers and then pressed them to the camera. I mirrored his actions and watched as he pulled the comforter up to his chin. Just as he finished getting comfortable, I placed my phone on the coffee table, propped up by my glass and returned to watching The Office.

Duke jumping off the couch startled me awake, not realizing I had even fallen asleep. When I looked over at my phone, it had died while the FaceTime had continued. I pushed myself off the couch to let Duke out then riffled through the kitchen to find a phone charger. Once I found one and Duke came running back inside, I shut the back door and made my way back to the couch. My phone came to life and I set an alarm for the morning and laid back down, promptly falling back asleep.

************

tag list: @thesubtweeter @thinkofmehlgh @viiirg0

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sero-sphere · 5 years ago

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PT 3! Crimson Hearts

Summary: You just moved next door to Red Riot…but you can hear everything through the paper thin walls. You open your mouth and uncover something scandalous. Lets see what happens next…

Quirk: You can feel everyones emotional aura, and can secret phermones to alter them. Only side affect is their emotions rub off on you as well, both good and bad.

Warning: angst, implied sex, alcohol use, swearing.

Taglist: @silentw-lkr

Part 1 , Part 2

Sooo, this one is a bit longer. also, sorry it took awhile…i was making stickers!!! im probabally going to write a bonus for this tomorrow!!!( ‘ㅅ’ )

You spent your off day relaxing, taking a bath, reading some books you’ve been meaning to get to, and catching up with your favorite series. You were just about to make yourself dinner, a nice thick steak with some veggies and rice, when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to find Red Riot.

No seriously, there Kirishima was, staring at you in nothing but his hero attire. Sure you had seen him dressed as a hero..but that was on TV. This was the first time seeing him in the flesh and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. Your eyes went over every ripple of every muscle, and every bruise….every scar. Those only seemed to make him more sexy.

“Hey uh, sorry to come and bother you like this. I got called into a closer district today and didn’t feel like heading back to the agency to shower…” He was blushing…hard. You wondered if he noticed that your eyes were wandering his body instead of looking at his face. You quickly corrected yourself and noticed he was holding something behind his back.

“Oh, no it’s ok…I was just a bit….distracted.” You couldn’t help the blush that came across your cheeks now as well.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday. If you hadn’t come to apologize I don’t know what I would have done. You really made me feel better….and I don’t want you to feel bad for telling me. I’m really glad actually, I know it sucks, but it’s better now that I’m not wasting my time on her.”

“It’s what I do, making people feel better I mean. I’m glad I could help, I really am. Trust me when I say I know EXACTLY how you feel.” You flashed him an apologetic smile.

“I got you this as a little thank you, I heard you crying last night. I wanna help you too if I can.” He brought his hands around the front of him, revealing what he had hidden. He reached out to hand you an adorable red teddy bear.

“I saw this today in a store I was passing by on patrol! It reminded me of you…well not OF you, but I thought of you. It’s a Red Riot ™ teddy bear. You said you were good at hugs, so I figured you could hug this whenever you get sad.” He was nervously scratching at the back of his neck. It only showcased his abs more and you couldn’t help it, as you thought about what it would feel like to hug him everynight…and not the teddy bear.

“Thanks! It will definitely help.” You pulled him into a big hug, forgetting he was shirtless and sweaty. You didn’t mind though, you could feel his mood start to shift a bit and smiled. He wasn’t lying, you really were making him feel a bit better.

“Uh, I should probably shower, I came straight here after work. I wanted to talk to you ASAP to make sure you were ok.” He pulled away from you and pointed towards his apartment.

“Kirishima, after everything that’s happened, it’s nice you thought about me. Go take your shower! I still have your whiskey so come over whenever you want! My doors always open… well not really, knock first, but you know what I mean.”

After saying goodbye, and locking your door, you put the teddy bear on the couch next to your set up for the night and returned to cooking your meal. You had made enough that way you could have left overs tomorrow for lunch. Before you could sit down to eat it you were interrupted by another knock. It was Kirishima again, but this time he was a little bit more covered. He was wearing a black tank top, grey sweats and a bandana.

“You said anytime so I figured I’d take you up on that…normally I’d go hang with Bakugou, but he’s had a rough night too…. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not….I hope you’re hungry, I just made steak and it just so happens there’s just enough for you.” His mouth was already watering.

After showering, Kirishima realized he didn’t want to spend time alone. He wasn’t entirely lying by saying Bakugou had a rough night…he always had a rough night. He was competing for the title of “Number 1 hero” after all. Even after only knowing you for a short while, he felt comfortable around you. If he hung out with Bakugou, he would only tell him to get over it, and by get over it he would probably suggest having sex with someone else. Kirishima wasn’t quite ready for that yet, so he made his way over to your place, where he knew he could relax.

The two of you bonded over dinner, and shared the rest of his whiskey. He watched as you cuddled up with a blanket on the couch beside him and clutched the Red Riot teddy bear he had gifted you. He’s glad you really liked it, and didn’t find it weird at all. He thought of the latter after he bought it, but decided to go with it anyway.

He came over more and more after that night. Some nights you two drank, sometimes you too didn’t. Mostly you talked, you explained how your quirk worked and how you used it to help people. He told you about his ex-girlfriend, and his best friends. All about his job as a hero! Every day you felt, as he returned to his old angelic self. Just being around him made you feel so much better, and you were glad he was finally beginning to feel ok.

That’s how you ended up in this predicament. Sitting in your living room, drinking too much sake with him. You let him persuade you with his notions “ oh, hey guess what! Ive got the day off tomorrow, and it just so happens Fat Gum gave me this big bottle of sake as a thank-you.”

“I thought being a hero was about saving people…not the free shit?”

“I mean it is, but it does have its perks.”

You both drank way too much and were giggling back and forth. You felt your face heat up. You were both reminiscing about the day you two met.

“OMG I am such an idiot sometimes, I can’t believe I said that to you.” You cringed as you tried to burry your face deep into your sweatshirt.

Kirishima was laughing, falling against the backside of the couch. “I can’t believe you heard everything! I should be more embarrassed than you! I went inside and cursed thinking about how you probably would never talk to me again.”

“And here I was thinking ‘ who the fuck lasts that long…omg.’ And then when It was Red fuucking Riot, and your quirk is hardening. It made perfect fucking sense!”

He blushed. He leaned his head back against the couch, but to the side so he could maintain eye contact, as you gave you the sultriest toothiest smile. You wanted to kiss him so bad, but you stopped yourself.

“You know, I think you can take all this back to your house now?” You motioned to all the alcohol you both had on the table. One bottle had turned into 2, into 3, and so on.

“Right, but then what excuse would I have to come to see you. I am feeling better now ya know?”

“Hmmm, you think you need a reason to come and see me? I could think of a reason or two?” You raised your index finger to your bottom lip and pouted slightly. You shifted a bit in your seat and leaned a little closer towards him. Just to the point you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Yeah, and what would that be?”

He met you the rest of the distance, and felt as your lips brushed against his.

You had enveloped him in a kiss he wasted no time in returning. It heated up rather quickly and you felt as his hands ran up and down your back. You moved yours towards his thighs, circling your thumbs in little motions against his muscles.You both were involved in a heavy makeout session. At some point you both broke away for some air. It was pretty late and while Kirishima might not have had patrol, he did have to go in for an early morning meeting.

“You should go, I know you have a meeting in the morning. Being a Hero comes first.” You moved away from him a bit, but still made sure your fingers were intertwined with his.

“But, that wouldn’t be very manly of me to leave you like this…”

“I’ll be fine. I promise, I have an amazing hero who lives right next door. He’ll be the first one I call if I find myself needing help in the middle of the night. He’s convinced he needs reason to come and see me!”

Kirishima leaned in and gave you another kiss on the cheek. He pulled back to look into your eyes. He gave you one last kiss on the lips and left. Both of you wished you had done that sooner, it was too late to get left hanging like that. You were tired. You made sure to clean up before you tucked yourself in at least. You had a previous arrangement with your brother and he was going to be staying over for the weekend.

The night came and went, and you were headed back to your apartment with a hand full of groceries. You had met your brother at the train station, and stopped at the store on your way home. He was behind you helping with some of the load. He made some joke about how he was surprised you walked up all these stairs every day. You were giggling as you made your way to the door.

Kirishima looked out from his window and watched as you passed by laughing…with some….guy? You were with a guy? What? He assumed it was probably family, and you would explain after they were gone, and he came over to visit. But that time never came. The male that had followed you into the apartment had stayed the night with you. He felt just a tinge of jealousy. He got ready for work and wondered if he would still run into you on his way out the door, or if you would be staying in late.

His questions were answered when you called out to him from the stairs.

“Oh, hey Kirishima! Hope you got a good nights rest! Good luck at work today!”

“Hey you too right? You have a big day? Hope the takedown goes as planned.” You were scheduled to help take down a really well known gang, and it was going to be one of the more tiring work days you’ve endured. It started off fine, but quickly turned sour and you were forced into staying well into the night to make sure things went according to plan. 5 am came and went. It was now 7 when you finally made your way back home. You hoped your brother would be awake by now, to say bye before he left. You didn’t know how long you would be able to stay up for. You made it to your door before you realized you had forgotten the key in the car. By the time you made it all the way back up, Kirishima was just heading to work for the day.

“Trouble sleeping, huh?” He looked at you and laughed. It sounded a bit forced and you wondered if he was trying to avoid.

“Yeah I guess you could say that. Things just never seemed to end last night, it just kept coming and coming.” You looked at him exhausted.

“Those walls really are paper thin, I see what you meant before, when you said you couldn’t sleep.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with you. Instead he was staring at his feet which is something you hadn’t seen him do since he was upset about his breakup.

“What do you mean?” You were utterly confused at this point. You two were the only ones whose apartments shared walls on this floor. He shouldn’t have been able to hear anyone else’s, the noise would have to come from yours.

“Uhm, I mean I wasn’t trying to listen in, but like you said it’s kinda hard not too.”

You turned towards him, and the look you gave him was enough to make him scared. You looked pretty fucking mad. “I’m going to fucking kill him!! Figures the one time I’m out for the night!!!”

“Wait what, don’t tell me..” He was starting to panic. He hoped he didn’t just catch you in the same situation he was in a few weeks earlier.

“Oh! NO, no! I’m sorry, he’s my fucking brother! I should have told you that earlier. He came to stay for a few nights for work. Better not have been on my bed I swear to God.”

Kirishima was relieved, he couldn’t stop thinking about continuing what the two of you had started the last time you were together. He had really developed feelings for you during the time the two of you spent together. He was hoping you would return them, and had gotten worried when he heard all those sinful noises during the night. Before he could answer you, you had leaned over and placed a kiss on this cheek.

“Come over tonight? Depending on how my next conversation goes, I might need someone to help break in my new mattress! That is after I’m done burning my other one of course. I might find myself in need of a Hero”

#crimson hearts #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #eijiro kirishima #bnha x reader #bnha

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