#silly class doodles strike again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aquaminwrites · 5 years

Text

Paper Cranes | Kim Taehyung (M)

PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x F!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, smut, angst. Non idol AU. College AU. Best friends to lovers. Slice of life.

WARNINGS: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (stay safe!), so much fluff you might pass out

WORD COUNT: 18.3k

DESCRIPTION: It is said that if someone folds 1000 paper cranes, they will receive one wish. Kim Taehyung has been folding you paper cranes since he was six years old. He won’t tell you what he’s going to wish for once he reaches his goal, but even into your twenties, all you know is that he’s been wishing for the same thing every time.

You’re six years old when you receive your first paper crane from Kim Taehyung.

Your first year of elementary school is almost over—there’s only two months left until summer break, and you’ve been counting down the days until you are finally free to wake up as late as you want and play with your friends until the sun goes down.

That’s also why it strikes you as odd that there’s a new transfer student, his newly assigned seat right beside yours, being introduced to the class. His eyes are big and wide underneath a fringe of dark brown hair, and he’s cute in the way that all kids are cute—with rosy cheeks, big ears, and a shy demeanour that tells you that he would most likely rather have stayed at his previous school.

After a brief introduction of Hello, I’m Kim Taehyung, he shuffles over and takes his seat. He doesn’t really look at you, keeping his head down as he pulls his notebooks from his backpack. You see that the margins are covered in doodles, little cartoons and make-believe stories etched onto every far corner of the page.

You open your mouth to introduce yourself, but the sound of your teacher’s voice has you facing the blackboard once more. You try not to think too hard about the new boy sitting beside you, gently humming to himself as he doodles butterflies in an open meadow.

At recess, you’re playing with a few friends, doing cartwheels and rolling around on the grass. You’re giggling with your friend, Chaeyoung, when you hear a ruckus happening not too far away.

“Hey! Please, no, give it back!”

You glance over and see a group of three known playground bullies who have circled Taehyung, holding his notebook up above his head, so high that he can’t reach.

“What’s so special that’s in here, anyway?” One of the bullies taunts, as he starts to leaf through the pages. “This your diary or something?”

“Please, just give it back,” Taehyung begs, trying to jump up to grab his book.

Another bully places his hand on Taehyung’s chest and shoves him back, and the suddenness of the motion has the smaller boy falling and landing hard on his tailbone.

It’s when you see tears pricking his eyes that you begin to fume. You distantly hear Chaeyoung hissing at you to get back here, you’re gonna get in trouble! as you stomp your way over to the group of boys, ones that you know are in a grade higher than yours. So why are they picking on little kids anyway?.

“Hey,” you bark, tiny fists with white knuckles at your sides. “Leave him alone!”

The bully holding the book swivels in your direction and snorts. “Or what?”

Not one to back away from a challenge or a fight (to Chaeyoung’s dismay—you hear her groaning as she catches up with you), you defiantly stare him right in the eye before you wind back your foot and kick him in the shin—hard.

He yelps and drops the book, and you’re quick to snatch it back. “My big cousin is thirteen and he does judo,” you warn, venom dripping from your voice. “So I suggest you leave both of us alone if you know what’s good for you.”

Having recovered from the kick, the bully glares at you with flared nostrils, and he takes a step forward as if he’s ready to continue this fight. You just lift your chin and cross your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. When he sees that you’re not about to back down, he lets out a grunt and mutters, “Ain’t worth it. C’mon, guys.”

And just like that, they turn around and leave.

You hand the book wordlessly back to Taehyung with a trembling hand as Chaeyoung runs over and basically tackles you with a hug. The boy is still on the ground when he accepts the book from your grasp, looking up at you with shiny, doe eyes.

Chaeyoung can’t help but gush in her excitement. “You are so cool! And so tough! Wow! Wait—are you shaking?”

“Oh my gosh, Chae-Chae, I was so scared!” You wail, dramatically collapsing into your friend’s arms as the adrenaline bred from confrontation finally starts to slow. “I thought I was gonna get punched in the face for sure!”

Chaeyoung gasps. “You really think they would hit a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “Dummies with no brains will hit anyone.” You sigh and then turn to ask Taehyung if he’s alright, but when you glance over, he’s already gone. The only evidence that he’d been there in the first place was the patch matted grass where he landed from the fall.

After recess, you and Chaeyoung file back into your classroom, and you wander back over to your desk. To your surprise, there’s something resting atop it, though you had cleared it before going outside.

You get closer and notice that it’s a paper crane, folded with a ripped out page of a notebook that has doodles of butterflies in an open meadow on it. You glance at Taehyung, and he meets your eyes and offers up the tiniest of smiles.

“Is this for me?” You have to ask.

His smile widens, boxy and adorable. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

You cradle the paper sculpture in your hands and examine it carefully. Along the top of one of the wings, in surprisingly neat penmanship, he’d written, “Because you stuck up for me.”

“What they did to you was wrong,” you reply quietly, thumb running along one of the creases. “I hate bullies. I always have.”

Taehyung looks at you with something you can’t quite pinpoint dancing in his vision. After a beat, he gently says, “Don’t throw it away, promise?”

“I would never!” You gasp with mock-indignation. Taehyung just patiently waits for the response he wants to hear, his heart-shaped lips settling in a neutral line. You sigh, and then sincerely respond, “I promise.”

His boxy smile returns, and you can’t help but grin as well.

Maybe the new kid isn’t so bad after all.

—

You’re ten years old when you finally ask why he’s folding all those cranes.

It turns out that the Kim family had moved walking distance from your house. Their home is a little more isolated, with Taehyung’s parents owning a small strawberry farm with a decent amount of property. It’s ten minutes away by foot, and only a few minutes if you take your bike.

After that first meeting, you and Taehyung become the best of friends. He makes you laugh with his silly but innocent way of speaking, often acting out skits and things he’d seen on television for you because he knows it makes you giggle when you hear his girly falsetto.

It soon becomes routine for the two of you to go to and from school together, since your house is on Taehyung’s way. Every morning for the last four years, he’s either walked or biked to your house to pick you up. Sometimes when he shows up early, your mother ushers him inside for a post-breakfast snack. Other times, he brings your family baskets of strawberries from the farm, just because he knows how much you like them.

All the while, Taehyung still gifts you with paper cranes.

You think you’ve amassed around a hundred by now. Taehyung likes to make them for you on your birthday and special holidays, interspersed with random ones when he finds an interesting piece of paper he think you’d like, or even newspaper clippings, and his own doodles on lined paper. You keep every single one pressed flat and placed in a shoe box under your bed.

They’re all different sizes, and some of them were made with pieces of scrap paper. But they always have a message written on the wings, and you always cherish them because Taehyung took the time to make them for you.

On the day of your tenth birthday, you throw a party in your backyard. It’s the end of summer, just before school is meant to start up again, and you’re finally an age that has two numbers in it. You feel older, more mature.

And as an older, more mature version of yourself, in your pursuit of knowledge, you can’t help but ask Taehyung as he digs into a second slice of cake, “Why do you fold so many paper cranes?”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, as if he thought you knew already. “You mean you haven’t heard of the legend?”

You narrow your eyes at him. Taehyung is a few months younger than you, so he’s still nine, a child.

“No?”

Taehyung shovels more cake into his mouth while he speaks, clearly ignoring Chaeyoung’s look of both disgust and fascination from where she’s been snacking on popcorn not three feet away.

“They say that if you make a thousand paper cranes, you get one wish,” he says simply without offering up much else in terms of explanations.

You wait for a beat in case he’s just taking a dramatic pause, as he’s known to do. When he contentedly licks the icing off his fork, you can’t help but regard him curiously. “What are you wishing for?”

Taehyung only offers you a wink in reply. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

Taehyung ends up getting you a charm bracelet with your birthstone on it, as well as a charm with the letter “T” that dangles down from one of the beads. Your mother tells you later that night, after the party has cleared out, that Taehyung saved up all his allowance to buy that for you. She heard so from his mother. You feel warmth rise up to your cheeks as you think of your best friend and his kind, boxy smile and the ten paper cranes he’d neatly stuffed into an envelope in lieu of a card.

This time, the message on the wings says, “You’re finally double digits! Happy birthday! Love, your best friend, Tae-Tae.”

—

You’re thirteen when you start to look at him differently.

“You want me to what?”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to act flippant, though the hands worrying at the hem of your shirt give you away. “Come on, Tae, it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Sorry,” he holds up his hand, his eyes still squinted in confusion. “But you want me to what? Why me? Why now?”

You groan, already embarrassed by the question you’d posed in the first place. At the insistence of him repeating your request, you fear you might actually spontaneously combust. The two of you are in your room, sitting on your bed, and Taehyung is staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head from the top of your shoulder.

“It’s just a kiss, Tae. I don’t want to start high school without having kissed anyone before. And you’re my best friend, I trust you.”

“Chaeyoung’s also your best friend,” Taehyung grumbles, his shoulders slumped as he glances anywhere but you. “Why don’t you just ask her?”

“I’m not attracted to her, you dummy,” you huff, arms crossed over your chest.

Taehyung, a budding flirt, cannot help but quip, “So, you’re saying that you find me attractive?”

You roll your eyes again so hard that you’re fairly certain that you just saw the back of your skull. “Don’t be stupid. Are you going to help me out or not? Because if not, I’ll ask Jimin or something, he probably wouldn’t ask as many dumb questions—”

“Jimin?” Taehyung gawks. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when he agrees. You asked, after all. What had you expected? Taehyung is a lot of things, but he has never once let you down in the seven years you’ve been friends. The weight of the verbal contract starts to sit on your shoulders, not to mention the act in question that is about to take place. You wipe your damp palms against your shorts and scoot a little closer to Taehyung, who is staring intently at you with his big, beautiful brown eyes.

You’re so close to him now that you can feel the body heat he radiates. Your eyes scan all over his face, and you think to yourself that he’s grown up a lot since you met him all those years ago. He still hasn’t quite grown into his ears, and he still has the scrawny gangly quality that all early adolescents have in their limbs. But you suppose he’s objectively cute, and not a bad face to kiss for your first.

When you get close enough, you let your eyelids close and you tilt your head just slightly in anticipation. Taehyung meets you halfway, and you feel your heart hammering against your chest as soft, gentle lips press lightly to your own.

You’re expecting a quick peck, for it to happen and then be over. What you’re not expecting is for Taehyung’s hand to reach up and cup your cheek when he senses you trying to pull away, thumb grazing over your skin as you allow yourself to sink into him just a little more.

After a few seconds, Taehyung drops his hand from your jawline and you slowly pull apart. You instinctively run your tongue along your lower lip before nibbling on it slightly, too shy to look at Taehyung in the eye as he scratches the back of his head.

After a thick silence, full of something you can’t quite explain, Taehyung clears his throat.

“So, uh,” he begins, his voice cracking just slightly at the end. “Was it okay?”

You finally look at him, his eyes warm but also apprehensive. You can tell by the way the muscles in his shoulders bunch, and he curls inward as if to make himself smaller. You hate when he does that.

“It was perfect,” you say honestly, sending him the tiniest of smiles, if only so that his worried frown would go away. “Thank you, Tae. Really.”

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Hey, look, I have to head back home, I promised my parents I’d help with some stuff on the farm tonight. So I’ll see you at school on Monday?”

You watch dumbly as Taehyung is already up and off your bed, straightening out his clothes before making a beeline for your bedroom door. You barely have the chance to say a proper goodbye before he makes himself scarce, slipping out of your room, barreling down the stairs, and out the front door.

Your hand rests upon the warm indent of where Taehyung had just been sitting moments before, and you furrow your eyebrows in an attempt to understand what just happened. You were the one that asked him if the two of you could kiss, so why do you feel so weird about it now? Why did Taehyung touch you like that, like he really wanted you to be in his arms?

You raise your fingertips to softly run along the edge of your lower lip as you replay the kiss in your mind. A thought threatens to weasel its way into your consciousness, but you shove it down and pretend as if the butterflies in your stomach are only a result of being kissed for the first time. You tell yourself it isn’t because of Kim Taehyung, and that you’ll see him at school on Monday and everything will go back to how it was.

Although, you find it harder and harder to keep those thoughts at bay when you discover the paper crane folded in your locker with a small, single heart etched onto one of the wings.

—

You’re seventeen when everything changes.

You and Taehyung pretend the kiss never happened. You never talk about it after, and part of you wonders if Taehyung wants to talk, but is just too shy or nervous to say anything. Either way, as soon as high school starts, there’s no time to think about such silly things as a preteen kiss.

Everything feels the same, but also different. Your friends start to worry about things like popularity, something that wasn’t that big of a deal just a few years ago. Friend groups split up and people move on to different cliques, girls start wearing tighter clothes and the hallway by the boy’s locker room always smells like cheap body spray.

The one constant in your life, though, is Taehyung.

The two of you share a good number of classes together, and you still walk to school side by side every day. You always sit together at lunch in the cafeteria, and are always speaking in stupid inside jokes that make your other friends roll their eyes at you. You know there are rumours about you and Taehyung, but both of you constantly squash them down.

But it does’t help that neither of you have dated over the past four years since entering proper adolescence. You both just tell people that you don’t have the time, or that you just haven’t met anyone worth being with. And besides, you’re happy with how things are. Why would you want them to change?

You’re best friends, and you always will be. That’s all.

You’re in your senior year and it’s right around the time that everyone is receiving their admission packages for university. You had worked really hard the year previous to get good grades, and you just hope and pray that it’s enough to warrant an acceptance to your dream school.

When your mother hands you a thick, large envelope with the university’s header in the upper corner, you practically rip it from her hands and tear into it right in front of her. Happy tears blur your vision as you squeal upon reading the first line.

Dear Y/N,

We are pleased to offer you early admission to Seoul National University…

The first person that you want to tell is Taehyung.

You grab your heavy winter coat, tug on your boots and mittens, and run as fast as you can down the street towards the Kim’s farm. It had snowed the night before, so it takes you a little longer than usual as your boots crunch through the freshly fallen tufts of white. Because Taehyung’s area is a little more rural, the plows have a harder time getting there to clear everything away. But you pay no mind, overjoyed at the news you can’t wait to share.

When you get to the house, you knock on the door before peering into the side window. You wave at Taehyung as he comes down the stairs, a look of surprise on his face at your sudden appearance.

“Hey,” he greets, opening the door for you. You step inside and he offers to take your coat. He’s grown tall, you realize, as he easily moves around you to hang your things in the hall closet before ushering you further into the warmth of his house.

“Are your parents home?” You query, poking your head around the corner into the empty living room.

“No, they had to go run some errands,” Taehyung shrugs. “Winter’s pretty slow for us here, anyway.” He leads you upstairs to his room, a place where you’ve been thousands of times, and he plops down on his bed as you take a seat next to him. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You try to ignore how Taehyung man-spreads across his duvet, and how thick his thighs have become since he started working out with that sophomore friend of his, Jungkook.

Finally, you blurt out with the biggest smile across your face, “I got in.”

Taehyung immediately sits up, pin-straight. “You did?”

Your smile somehow gets wider as pride and joy spread across his face. “I did.”

“Y/N!” He beams, jumping up and gathering you in his arms. “That’s amazing! You did it! I’m so fucking proud of you!”

You wrap your arms around his neck as his find your waist and you bask in the feeling of being held by your best friend. He’s always been so warm, and on a cold day like today, you welcome his embrace and his love for you.

Finally, you remember to stop thinking of yourself for five seconds and ask, “What about you?”

Taehyung suddenly goes still, and his grip on you tightens just slightly. “I…I’m not going.”

You pull away and look up at him. He’s dejected, eyes downcast and his face angled away from you as if he thinks you’ll be disappointed in him. You’re not, though. You never could be.

Sighing and running your hands along his shoulders in comfort, you say, “I’m sorry, Tae. I’m sure you got offers from other schools though, yeah? You worked just as hard as I did last year to get your grades up.”

“It’s not that,” Taehyung sighs, a crease forming between his brows. “I got in.”

You’re officially confused, taking a step back to purposely put yourself in his line of vision. “You got in? So what do you mean you’re not going? I thought the plan was that we were going to go to Seoul National University together.”

Taehyung exhales hard through his nose and scrunches his face, his eyes closing. It’s the face he gets when he’s overwhelmed with stress, unsure of how to articulate his words. You wait for him to be ready, smoothing out the collar of his sweater to keep yourself occupied. His hands grip tighter on your waist, and it takes you a second to realize that he’s still holding you.

“My parents need help with the farm,” he says quietly. “I declined my offer of admission.”

At those words, your heart breaks and your mind starts to race. Every thought you have at first is selfish—what will you do without Taehyung? The two of you have spent over a decade together, seeing each other damn near every day. Will your friendship survive the distance between Daegu and Seoul? The plan was to always stick together, to experience college milestones side by side.

You force yourself to push those thoughts aside so that you can focus on Taehyung. You know that SNU is his dream school, too. And not only did he get in, but he had to turn them down. You know that it wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, but he’s always been selfless like that—he’s always put you first and taken care of you, so it’s no surprise that he would do the same for his blood family.

“But it’s not forever, yeah?” You ask gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes. “I’m sure that since you got in already, they can hold your admission until you’re ready.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he nods, but you can tell that he’s done talking about it. He doesn’t want to think of a reality where he’s stuck on his parents’ strawberry farm laying down fertilizer while you’re off in the big city making new friends and having new experiences. You see it in his eyes when he finally meets yours. He’s scared. Terrified of a future without you.

Always able to read his mind, you pull him in for another hug, nuzzling into his neck as you murmur, “You’re my best friend, Tae-Tae. Just because we won’t live down the street from each other anymore doesn’t mean I’m just going to forget about you.”

His inhale is shaky, and it takes all of your willpower not to cry, too. “Promise?”

You don’t know what possesses you, but you rise to your tip toes and press a soft kiss against his cheek. He whips his head to face you with wide eyes, but you just send him a tiny smile and reply, “I promise.”

The rest of senior year, you and Taehyung are practically inseparable—even more so than before. You find out that Chaeyoung also got into SNU, and the two of you manage to work it out so that you two can be roommates when you move into the dorms. You find solace that you at least won’t be completely alone in a different city, though your heart still hurts at the thought of Taehyung missing out on his opportunity.

The two of you spend as much time together as possible, almost as if the clock is ticking down on your friendship with your imminent move coming up. Summer is full of laughter and long nights by the river, reminiscing about simpler times when you were kids. When things didn’t seem so complicated, and distance was never an issue.

Your moving day rolls around faster than you could have ever anticipated. You’ve loaded the last of your things into the back of your parents’ van when you see Taehyung jogging down the street towards your house.

You’d texted him earlier that morning to let him know that you were leaving soon. Of course, he’d known that it was going to be today, but he still wanted to make sure he got to say goodbye to you before you drove to Seoul and out of his life.

When he reaches you, his eyes are misty and red and you’re sure you look just like him. It feels like the end of a chapter, like a pivotal moment where you’re stepping away from your childhood and moving into life as an adult.

Taehyung stops at your feet and just stares at you for a second, his eyes darting all over your face. You look up at him, doing the same, until a tear slips from the corner of your eye and then suddenly you’re sobbing into his chest and he’s holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re going to do great,” he promises, rubbing small circles on your back. “You’re going to make so many new friends, because it’s impossible for people not to love you. You’re going to become the city girl that I know you’ve always dreamed of being, and you’re going to make Seoul your bitch.”

You laugh at the last comment, pulling away to look at him again. “Thank you, Tae,” you hiccup.

He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And you’ll call and FaceTime me all the time, right?”

You sniffle, giving a nod. “Of course.”

Taehyung reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Promise?”

You exhale shakily, but meet his gaze head-on. “I promise.”

He looks down and something in his line of vision glints. He notices the charm bracelet on your wrist, and he can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t believe you still have that.”

“Of course I still have it,” you say with the tiniest hint of a smile. “It reminds me of you.”

You hear your mother calling you from the passenger’s seat of the van, ushering you that it’s a long drive and you need to leave now.

Taehyung clears his throat a few times, trying to be strong for the both of you. He takes your hands and presses something into your palm, and from the feel of it, you already know what it is. The paper crane in your hand makes you cry more, and Taehyung presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Go on, Y/N. Go find your future.”

Your lower lip trembles as you speak. “I don’t want to leave you.”

This time, when he smiles, the warmth is back in his eyes. “You’re not,” he swears. “We’re best friends, remember? Wherever you go, I won’t be far behind. Just wait for me, okay?”

You promise him again, because how could you not?

“Okay.”

Once you’re in the car, you put your headphones on and select the playlist that Taehyung made you of all his favourite songs. It reminds you of him, anchors your heart in Daegu, where he remains on his parents’ farm until it’s his turn to pursue his dreams. You look at the crane that you hold like a precious gem in your palms, and the tears start welling up again as you read the message written on one of the wings.

“Don’t forget about me while you’re off at university. I know you’ll do great things.”

—

You’re nineteen when you meet Park Jinyoung.

You notice him immediately when you walk into one of your tutorials—an elective on music history that you take because you’ve heard that the professor gives great lectures.

Also, because Taehyung was the one who introduced music to you all those years ago, and you’ve grown to love it too. He also loves hearing about what you’ve learned in lecture when you do get the chance to talk, which, as the years go on, becomes less and less.

It’s no one’s fault, really. Distance makes things hard, as do the responsibilities that come along with being a university student. You have paper after paper due, and Taehyung tells you that he doesn’t want to bother you when you’re in the middle of your studies. Your schedules also just don’t align, with him still helping on the farm and having to be up at the crack of dawn and going to bed early, and with you opting for afternoon and evening classes so that you can get a little more shut eye to start your day.

He still mails you paper cranes every now and then. Not as often as he used to, but it still makes you smile when you get to add another one to your growing collection. You must have close to five or six hundred by now, and you’ve had to start a second shoebox to make sure everything fits.

But Park Jinyoung is different. And he’s here.

For one, he looks like a Disney prince. Like someone had pulled him from a designer fashion catalogue and plopped him in the middle of your tutorial. You’re nearly late, so the only remaining seat is next to him. He smiles shyly at you when you sit down, and you try to hide the blush dusting your cheeks behind the length of your hair.

You dig into your bag for your laptop and flip it open as your TA walks into the room, prepared to take notes. But then you check the battery on your computer and notice that there is definitely not enough of a charge to keep it alive for the duration of your class.

Cursing yourself for not charging it overnight, you notice that the man sitting beside you has the same model. You muster up all your courage, turn to him and ask, “I’m really sorry about this, and I’m usually not this unprepared, but do you happen to have a laptop charger I can borrow? We have the same one, so I figured—”

He smiles at you and your stomach does flips. “Of course.” He pulls the charger from his backpack and hands it to you, and you gratefully take it and plug in your computer. “I’m Jinyoung, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you introduce, shaking his offered hand.

“You know,” he says after a beat, a drawl in his voice that has a tiny hint of mischief in it. “Letting you borrow my charger is a pretty big favour, considering that we’re basically strangers. I think I might need some kind of repayment.”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “Oh? Like what?”

“A cup of coffee,” he states. “After class?”

There’s no use in hiding your blush now. You smile, biting your lip. “I can do that.”

It doesn’t take long for Park Jinyoung to become your boyfriend. You and Chaeyoung move into the off-campus apartments after your freshman year, and it turns out that Jinyoung lives in the building next to yours. He’s as sweet as they come, the perfect, doting partner, someone that loves you and isn’t shy about it, either.

He holds your hand in public, guides you by the small of your back through large crowds, brings you flowers just because he feels like it, and proudly shows you off to his friends when you’ve hit the six month mark of your relationship.

His only thing is that he thinks the charm bracelet you’re wearing is weird. So he asks you to take it off. And so you do, and sits in your jewelry box, pretty much forgotten.

Things are good. Really, really good.

But of course, life always likes to throw curve balls your way.

One afternoon, you’re sitting on the couch with Jinyoung in his apartment, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you watch some true crime documentary on Netflix after an early dinner. It’s just starting to get good when your phone rings on the coffee table, the loud buzzing startling you as you take a look at the screen.

You pick up and in a confused tone, answer with, “Mom?”

“Hi, sweetie,” she replies, sounding tired.

You sit up straight, suddenly on high alert. Your mother doesn’t really like phone calls, much prefers texts for some reason (she’s partial to emojis, and you almost regret downloading the keyboard onto her phone), so the fact that she’s calling at all is unusual.

“Is everything okay?”

She’s quiet for a second, and you can hear your pulse in your ears. Jinyoung pauses the movie and adjusts how he’s sitting so that he can fully face you. He gives you a curious look but you just shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Finally, your mother sighs and says, “Taehyung’s grandmother passed away two nights ago.”

You suddenly feel cold all over. Why are you only hearing about this now, from your mom of all people? Why hadn’t Taehyung told you himself? You try to think of the last time you spoke to him, and you realize that it’s been months. Ever since you and Jinyoung started dating, you’ve completely neglected him. And the realization that you promised you wouldn’t starts to weigh on you, and you’re crying before you know what’s happening.

“When’s the funeral?”

“Tomorrow,” she responds. You immediately stand up and swipe at your eyes, grabbing your coat from the front hall of Jinyoung’s apartment. He rises to his feet and pads after you, confusion plain as day on his face.

“I’m getting on the next bus,” you say. “See you soon.”

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Jinyoung asks in a minor panic as you grab your things and already have a hand on the doorknob.

“Family emergency,” you say, already weary. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for class on Monday.” You rise to your tip toes and press a lingering kiss to his lips, to reassure him more than anything that you’re going to be okay. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmurs against your mouth, stealing another peck. “Text me when you get to your parents’ house, okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

You manage to catch a late bus to Daegu, and you make it home just before midnight. You text Taehyung to let him know you’re coming home, and you just get a heart emoji in response. You know how close Taehyung and his grandmother were. She practically raised him while his parents were busy making ends meet. She was always so kind and so warm, a precious soul who treated you like you were also her grandchild. She used to braid your hair and make you flower crowns when you were small, and the world is a little less bright without her.

It feels weird being back home. Since Seoul is so far, you don’t get to visit as often as you’d like. You really only make it home for the holidays, and even then, you don’t stay very long. But now that you’re here, everything seems so small. Everyone knows everyone else’s business, and it’s just not like that in the city. Everyone there is too busy focusing on achieving the next goal to worry about the trivialities of others. There it’s so loud, with cars and buses and drunken college students in the streets every weekend.

Here, it’s quiet. And in your neighbourhood too, it’s dark. Living on the border between rural farmland and suburbia means that there aren’t as many street lights to illuminate the roads. You haul your overnight bag over your shoulder and make your way up the driveway to your front door.

Your mom is there before you can even knock, pulling you into her arms in a tight hug. You can tell she’s been crying. Taehyung’s family is your family too, after all.

“You must be exhausted,” she says, kissing your crown. “Why don’t you wash up and get some rest?”

You can’t help but agree, your back stiff from sitting on a coach bus for three and a half hours. But once you’re all settled into your old room and lying in your childhood bed, you find yourself unable to fall asleep. You toss and turn for about fifteen minutes before you rest flat on your back and sigh loudly.

Turning your head, you see the framed photo of you and Taehyung from his birthday the year you turned eight. It was winter wonderland themed, and you and the other kids were allowed to make snow forts in the big field behind their house. The photo was of you and Taehyung cheek-to-cheek with rosy cheeks and noses from playing in the snow. It makes your heart ache thinking of the pain he must be in. So you send him a text.

[Sent 12:31am] Y/N: Hey. Can I call?

[Received 12:33am] Tae-Tae: Ok.

You tap the phone icon beside his name and wait as it rings. Taehyung picks up almost immediately, but he’s quiet on the other end.

You take the opportunity to speak first. “Hi.”

After a second, Taehyung responds, voice heavy with melancholy. “Hey.” He lets out a derisive laugh with no joy behind it whatsoever. “It’s good to hear your voice again. I was starting to think you forgot all about me.”

You don’t know how to address your absence in his life, and you don’t think you’re ready right this second to tell him about Jinyoung. So you deflect.

“How are you holding up, Tae-Tae?”

He’s quiet again, and you hate it when he gets like this. When he doesn’t know what to say, or how to process what he’s feeling aside from crushing despair, so he just stays quiet because he knows how much you hate to see or hear him cry.

Finally, he croaks out, “I’m not.”

You feel a tear slide from the corner of your eye down your cheek as you sit up in bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He laughs again, hollow and empty. “What would be the point? She’s gone.��

“Tae…”

“I’m really sorry,” he cuts you off. “But I just…” He sighs hard on the other line and you play with a loose thread on your comforter as you wait for him to be ready. “Is it okay if we talk tomorrow? I just…have some stuff I want to say that I can’t do over the phone.”

You bite your lip, exhaustion just now beginning to settle into your bones. “Y-Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

“Okay,” he repeats, more to himself than anything. There’s another long stretch of silence, and then quietly, he adds, “I miss you.”

Miss. Not past tense. Present tense. His choice of words doesn’t escape your notice, and guilt starts to weigh heavily on you. Taehyung is supposed to be your best friend in the whole world, the person you’d spent every day with from ages six to seventeen. You love him, and he loves you, and you’re supposed to tell each other everything.

So why is it that he couldn’t tell you about his grandmother? And why is it that you feel like you can’t talk to him right now?

You realize you’ve gone quiet on your end and respond, “I miss you too, Tae. Try to get some rest, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

He takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slow. “Okay. Goodnight.”

And then he hangs up.

The funeral takes place on a dreary Saturday. It isn’t raining, but it’s overcast. Taehyung stands with his family as he grips his mother’s hand. You stand with your own at their side, though you can’t quite see Taehyung when he’s flanked by both his parents. You hear him though, the quiet words of encouragement he sends to his mom, his voice thick as he works through the tightening of this throat to offer her comfort.

Other people in the neighbourhood, aside from just Taehyung’s family, also show up for the funeral. His grandmother was loved by many, and it at least warms your heart to know that she lived a long, happy life.

After the burial is over, Taehyung’s family hosts a reception at their home. You smooth out the fabric of your black dress after one of Taehyung’s cousins offers to take your coat. Gazing into the living room that is packed with friends and family, you try to spot Taehyung, but can’t seem to find him.

You wonder if maybe he’s in his room, just wanting to be away from all the noise for a second. You know that he wants to talk to you, to tell you something. But you can’t help but be a little worried, especially after how he’d ended the call last night. You know he’s hurting, and all you want to do is help.

So you slip past the crowd huddled around the refreshment table and tiptoe upstairs and down the hall, towards his bedroom.

You notice his door is slightly ajar, and he’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. You knock gently so as not to startle him, and he turns to look at you before rising to his feet.

He’s taller now, you notice. Broader too. He’s grown into his ears, his hair getting long with his fringe obscuring his eyes. His heart-shaped lips are pressed tightly together in a worried frown, and there’s a crease forming between his brows that you want to smooth out with the pad of your thumb. He looks…handsome. Different, but he’s still Taehyung. Your Taehyung.

You hate how breathless you sound as you say, “Hi.”

Taehyung doesn’t move at first. He just looks at you, eyes darting all over your face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. You can’t stand the thick tension that settles between the two of you, so you boldly stride over to him and loop your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest. He stiffens at your touch, but after a second, you finally feel him embrace you back.

You squeeze him a little tighter and that’s when the dam breaks.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, leaning his weight on you as you feel tears hitting your shoulder. You rub small circles against his back as he cries, his body wracked with sobs. You guide him back towards the bed and help him sit once his breathing evens out, and you fetch him some tissues from his desk so that he can blow his nose.

You sit beside him, still rubbing his back with your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t really make any move to touch you or hold your hand like he used to when you were kids and one of you was having a hard time. The thought of it makes your heart sink. Have you two really grown so far apart?

The silence is long and awkward. Something you’re not used to with Taehyung. But you suppose, it’s been two years since you’ve properly seen him in person. Even when you’d come home for winter break, things with your family are always so hectic that you never really get to see anyone outside of your extended relatives before you have to go back to school. There are so many things that are different now. You aren’t children and life stops for no one.

“How’s Jinyoung?”

You whip your head to face him, eyes wide. You never told Taehyung about him. Not for any particular reason, it just…never came up.

You swallow past the dryness in your throat. “How did you—”

“Your tagged photos on Instagram,” he replies quietly, staring at the floor. “I saw it last night before you called. And,” he notes, gesturing to your bare wrist. “You’re not wearing your bracelet anymore.”

Your hand immediately stills.

“Why didn’t…” He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. You move your hand away from his back, settling it into your lap to nervously fiddle with your fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

You search for words, but come up short. “I…”

“You what?” Taehyung spits. “You get your first boyfriend, and then what? I don’t exist anymore?”

It’s your turn to sigh. “Taehyung, you’re not being fair.”

“No, you know what, fuck that,” he seethes, getting up from the bed so that he can pace back and forth in front of you. You look up at him helplessly, wringing your wrists as he fists at his hair. “You promised me, Y/N. You fucking promised.”

You’ve made so many promises to Taehyung in the past that your brain short circuits trying to figure out which one he means. Frustrated, you challenge, “Promised what?”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your parted lips. Taehyung stops, his hands now hanging limply at his sides. His hair is a disheveled mess, and you swear you catch a glimpse of a falling tear as the light catches it on its way to the ground. When he answers, it’s barely above a whisper.

“That you’d wait for me.”

You feel your heart fall into your stomach, and you stand up, reaching for him. “Tae, I—”

He moves away from you, and you retract your hand as if you’d been burned. He reaches for something on his desk, and you can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lungs when you see that it’s another paper crane. This time, it’s made with black paper, and you can see the inscription done with silver ink.

“Here,” he mumbles, holding it out for you to take. “I made it for you yesterday when my mom told me you’d be coming back.”

You accept it, because how could you not? Wave after wave of guilt washes over you. It shouldn’t feel like this, you think, with Taehyung. This is your best friend in the whole world, the one you share everything with. Guilt isn’t something you should feel for having met someone, for accepting love from someone else. It isn’t fair that he’s making you feel guilty for being happy. For living your life. Nothing about anything makes sense anymore, and when you look back up, Taehyung is already halfway out the door.

“Tae,” you call out one last time. He turns, and his face doesn’t suit the sadness that mars it. You don’t know what to say, so you settle on, “I’m really sorry.”

He offers you a solemn half nod. “Thank you for coming. Grandma would have been happy to see you.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you in the solitude of his empty bedroom.

You look down at the paper crane, heavy in your palms. You read the words etched onto the wing and it makes you hate yourself just a little bit more.

“Thank you for not forgetting about me.”

You allow yourself just one minute to cry. One minute to face the fact that you feel like you’re losing the most important person in your life, and you don’t know what to do to fix things. You let yourself break down from the sadness of being all alone in a house that used to feel like an extension of your home. But now…it’s just a house. It’s just a house in a small town that has nothing left for you.

So after your sixty seconds are up, you muster up all your energy and do the only thing you can.

You go back to Seoul.

—

You’re twenty when the shift happens.

It’s also when things start to fall apart.

You haven’t spoken to Taehyung since his grandmother’s funeral. It’s been months. Your birthday came and went without a text from him, and it was the first time you cried yourself to sleep since you were in high school.

You feel like a piece of your soul has been ripped from your body. And what’s worse is that you know that if you were to give Taehyung a call, he would answer. Regardless of whatever fight you two are having, no matter how angry or frustrated or confused you are with how you feel, you know that if you need him, he will be there for you no matter what.

But you don’t call.

Because you’re scared.

Scared of what, you aren’t entirely sure. But after returning to Seoul from Daegu, something changed. You’d started isolating yourself more, focusing only on school and not spending time with any of your other friends or going out like you used to.

Jinyoung notices as well—notices that you don’t invite him over as often as you used to, that he needs to coax affection from you when you used to give it so openly. He definitely notices when you fake an orgasm just to be done with sex. Your mind has just been so preoccupied, and part of you had believed that being intimate with your boyfriend would snap you out of it.

But the entire time, your mind is elsewhere. And you don’t know how to ask him to stop, so you squeeze down on him and moan like you know he wants to hear, arching your back off the bed just so that he’ll hurry up and get off of you.

Once he’s finished, Jinyoung rolls back onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling. Your room is dead silent, save for the sound of the both of you catching your breaths. You take your blanket and tug it up so that it’s covering your nose and mouth, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious discomfort at just lying in bed beside him.

Jinyoung exhales hard through his nose. “You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

You bite your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure you’ve broken skin. “Nothing’s on my mind.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Jinyoung remarks, sitting up and running a hand through his dark hair. He leans his elbows against his bent knees and stares off into the distance. “I know you’re in love with someone else.”

His remark shocks you so much that you sit up and scoot away from him, sheets clutched tight to your body. “What are you talking about?”

Jinyoung observes your body language and snorts, but it’s not one full of mirth. It sounds sad, like he’s finally coming to terms with something he’s been wrestling with for months.

“Even now,” he notes, lightly gesturing to your posture. “I just told you that I know you’re in love with another man, and instead of reassuring me and telling me that I’m crazy, you’re hiding. You’re hiding because you know I’m right.”

Your mouth feels so dry. You try to squeak out, “Jinyoung, that’s not true, I just—”

“Don’t,” he says with a tone of finality to it. He reaches down and grabs his boxers first, then slips out of your bed to gather the rest of his clothes. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know you’re not happy. Fuck, I’m not happy. And that’s not what a relationship is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be two people in love, not one person in love and the other pining over some guy from back in Daegu.”

Your blood runs cold. “W-what did you say?”

He exhales slowly, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. His face is scrunched in regret, as if he’s just revealed something he wasn’t supposed to know.

“When you came back from Daegu after you had that family emergency,” Jinyoung explains, “You seemed…different. Sadder. You wouldn’t talk to me about it, so I spoke to Chaeyoung. She told me about that friend of yours, Taehyung? The one who would always send you the paper cranes in the mail?” He chuckles derisively. “Best friends since age six. How am I supposed to compare to that?”

Your lower lip starts to tremble. By now, he’s fully dressed. “Jinyoung, you’re being unfair.”

He laughs again, louder this time. “I’m being unfair?” He scoffs. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. We’re supposed to be partners. If you’re having a hard time, you’re supposed to be able to come to me. I’m the one who has been here through everything, and yet I’m the one being tossed aside like I don’t matter.”

“But you do matter,” you insist, shifting to rise to your feet. Tears are blurring your vision now, but through the mist, you can see Jinyoung holding out a hand to stop you.

“I get it, you know,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it. “Really, I should have seen it coming. You used to talk about him all the time. Your friend from Daegu. You never told me his name because you wanted to protect me, right? Didn’t want me to know that you were only dating me so that you could get over him?”

You’re more confused than ever. “No, Jinyoung, that’s not it, you have it all wrong, I love you, I—”

“Please,” he cuts you off, voice strained. “Please just…let me talk, okay?”

You hiccup through a quiet sob as you hug your knees to your chest under the blanket. You nod. You can see in his eyes that he’s really hurting. And so if he needs to say his piece, you will let him. He deserves as much.

“I should have known right from the beginning when I found those boxes of paper cranes under your bed.”

Your heart stops dead in your chest and suddenly you’re furious. Wave after wave of confusion, anger, and betrayal wash over you as he continues to speak. Jinyoung was snooping around your things? Had he read all the messages that Taehyung had written for you over the years? Those were meant for the two of you only, not for anyone else.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your mind. You want to scream at him. You want to tell him to get out, to leave, to never speak to you again. But then you open your eyes, and you see him standing by your bedroom door, eyes full of tears, heartbreak weighing his shoulders. And that’s when you know that you can’t.

As much hurt as you feel right now being confronted in this way, you know that Jinyoung is hurting even more. You don’t know exactly how long ago he found the cranes—he may have mentioned it, but you still can’t properly focus. You just know that the two of you aren’t meant to be. Maybe you were when you first met, and the two of you really were happy for the year and a half that you dated. But the space between you, both physical and metaphorical, is too great of a gap to conquer. And at this point, you don’t even know if you want to try.

And it’s the uncertainty that Jinyoung reads on your face clear as day.

“I’m going to go,” he says, placing a hand on the doorknob to your bedroom. “But we had a good run, yeah?”

A tear slips from your eye and rolls down your cheek. “The best.”

He shoots you a half smile before shoving his free hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Lock up after me, okay?”

You don’t shift to rise from the bed, but agree anyway. “Okay.”

And then you’re alone.

You slide your clothes back on, a simple tank top with an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You make sure the front door to your apartment is locked, your fingers lightly grazing over the door handle where Jinyoung had been not moments earlier.

It’s hard to breathe in the silence. You feel your lungs starting to constrict, and then the tears start pouring out. You slide to the ground, back against the door as you cry into your sleeves. It takes you a minute to gather the strength to get up in search of your phone, but all you know is that right now, you’re not okay. Right now, you can’t be by yourself.

You’re dialling the number by muscle memory alone before pressing the device up to your ear. It rings once. Twice. Three times. And then—

“Y/N?”

His voice floods your ears and you let out a sigh of relief as it washes over you. It’s just your name, but when he says it, it sounds like music. You’ve missed his deep baritone so much over the past year that as soon as he speaks, you immediately break down again.

“Tae, I…I…”

“Where are you?” He immediately asks. You hear him shuffling, and the sound of car keys. “Are you at home?”

You sniffle, trying to calm your breathing. “Y-yeah.”

“Okay,” he says gently, and your heart clenches. You really don’t deserve a best friend like him. “I’m on my way.”

He hangs up before you get a chance to argue. You text him your address just in case he’s lost it, although you know that he probably knows it off by heart by now. You know that Taehyung is driving all the way from Daegu, so you curl up on the couch and decide to watch a movie to distract yourself while you wait. The movie plays, some chilling true crime documentary, and you jump slightly when you hear a knock on your front door.

Turning off the television, you scramble over and peer through the peephole.

It’s him.

You throw the door open and you’re breathless, looking up into the molten brown eyes that you hadn’t realized just how much you’ve missed. You just stare at him for a second, eyes searching his face, his brows furrowed in concern. He’s doing the same, taking you in, as if it’s the last time he’ll ever lay eyes upon you.

“Hi,” he says in a rush. You launch yourself into his arms at that, pressing your face to his chest and collapsing into a fit of sobs. Taehyung holds you steady, stronger arms than you remember leading you back into your apartment as he closes the door behind him with his foot.

He guides you to your couch and sits you down before you’re clinging to him again. You feel like an idiot for calling him and making him drive all the way down from Daegu just to comfort you through a break-up, but you suppose that’s the magic about Taehyung. You didn’t even have to ask, didn’t have to say anything other than his name and he was already on his way over.

Taehyung’s arm pulls you closer to his side, and you end up halfway in his lap with your head resting on his shoulder. Your nose brushes against the crook of his neck, and he stiffens for just a second before relaxing once more. He smells like cedar wood and cypress, a comforting smell that fills you with nostalgia.

After a few seconds, you squeak out, “I’m sorry, Tae-Tae.”

He glances down at you, and you can’t help but notice how close his face is to yours. “For what?”

“Making you come all the way here,” you say, moving away from him to give yourself a little distance. The rush of emotions filling you is too confusing—you blame it on the fact that you haven’t seen your best friend in about a year, and not the fact that he’s even broader and more chiseled than the last time you saw him.

Jinyoung’s words echo through your mind and you squeeze your eyes shut. You were just dumped by your boyfriend of over a year, how are you already thinking about someone else? You feel so conflicted, because you don’t want Jinyoung to be right. You don’t want to admit that somewhere deep down, over the course of your lives together, you started feeling something for Taehyung.

Who else would drive all the way down from Daegu to Seoul just to comfort you because he knew you couldn’t be alone? Who else would set aside whatever hurt he felt over the fight you had that made you not speak for a year, just to be by your side at this very moment? Who else does any of the things that Taehyung has ever done for you?

Your chest feels warm, and you know that Taehyung is watching you carefully. His arm is still around your shoulders, but it’s loose, and leaning more on the material of the couch than your body.

He fiddles for a second with the material of your sweater’s hood before letting out the tiniest chuckle through his nose. You turn to face him curiously, and his eyes are distant with thought.

When he notices you watching, he gestures to your clothes. “That’s my hoodie. I was wondering what happened to it.”

You look down at your sweater and swallow past the dryness in your throat. It is Taehyung’s, you realize. You had swiped it from his closet before leaving Daegu. It was your favourite hoodie of his, one that he always let you wear, even though it was his favourite as well. He always said it suited you better, so he just let you get away with it. You had brought it with you to Seoul so that you could bring a little piece of him with you, a small comfort in a difficult time of transition. You’d worn it so many times over the past few years that you forgot it was even his.

Taehyung looks around. “Is Chaeyoung home?”

You shake your head, using the sleeves to dry your eyes. “She’s at her boyfriend’s place tonight. Jinyoung was over, and…”

The implication is there, and you see hurt flash over Taehyung’s expression for just a fraction of a second. It’s there and gone so quick that you’re unsure if you actually saw it or not. You bring your knees to your chest and make yourself small on the couch. Taehyung notices and scoots closer, hand resting directly upon your shoulder as he brings you back into his warmth.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly. “You can talk to me.”

And so you do. You tell him about what happened with Jinyoung, leaving just a few details out. You tell him about how you knew that it was over with Jinyoung a long time ago, but just didn’t have the courage to end things. You tell him how much it hurt to realize you had fallen out of love with him when it was clear that he was still in love with you. He talks you through your breakup, lets you know that you’re an amazing person and the right guy will come along one day and sweep you off your feet in the way that you deserve. That you’ll be loved unconditionally, and that when it’s the right person, you’ll just know.

You look up at him then, and a silent moment passes between the two of you. Taehyung’s lips part gently, and you swear he’s getting closer. You feel drawn to him, like the pull of a magnet, but you know that this isn’t right. Jinyoung left only a few hours ago. And while you can’t ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest, you know that you can’t. Not right now.

“I’m tired,” you whisper before he can get any closer. “I think I need to go to sleep.”

Taehyung gives a quiet nod, but doesn’t look away from you for a second. You swallow, and decide to let yourself be selfish one more time.

“Come with me?”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. You take him by the hand and lead him to your room, shuffling through your belongings to see if you have anything big enough for him to wear to bed. He’s already in a loose shirt, but his jeans pose more of an issue. You see a pair of Jinyoung’s sweats in one of your drawers, but the thought of giving those to Taehyung seems disrespectful to both of them.

“Hold on,” you say, before darting out of the room and towards Chaeyoung’s down the hall. Her boyfriend, Namjoon, is pretty tall and you know he’s left some clothes here before. You find a pair of pyjama pants in her closet and rush back to give them to Taehyung.

After he changes, the two of you slip under the covers. It isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed together, but it’s the first time you’ve done so as adults. Taehyung turns to face you, and you do the same. You feel a tear slip from your eye, and Taehyung lifts his hand to brush it away with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, voice deep and gentle.

“I don’t know,” you admit, scooting a little closer. “I missed you, Tae.”

He offers you a smile. “I missed you too, Y/N.” His hand moves from your face to rest along your waist, and you bite at your bottom lip to prevent any unwarranted sounds from escaping at his touch. But you don’t shy away from him either, letting him touch you, letting yourself be held by someone you care so much about and who you know just wants to protect you and keep you safe. “Get some sleep, yeah? We can go for pancakes in the morning.”

You smile at that, an ear to ear grin that has Taehyung smiling in turn. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he promises. He leans in and brushes a soft, barely-there kiss to your forehead, and you’re glad it’s dark in your room so he can’t see the blush that paints your cheeks. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Tae-Tae.”

You wake up the next morning feeling more rested than you have in ages. You move to sit up but realize that you can’t budge. You glance over to your side and see Taehyung fast asleep, his dark hair mussed and his cheeks puffy. He’s got a leg slung over yours and his arms hug your back to his chest, and he’s snoring just slightly as day breaks through your window.

You can’t help but smile and allow yourself to sink back into his grasp for just a few more minutes.

Finally, the two of you get up and head over to your favourite hole in the wall diner for breakfast. Taehyung’s only been to Seoul a few times, so it’s a big deal for him to be in the city. He looks at everything with wide eyes and an even wider smile as you walk down the busy streets. You know that he wants to be here, wants to live an exciting life in the city with you nearby. You want that, too. You always have.

You get to the diner and you both order short stacks with way too many sugary add-ons. You’re digging into your breakfast when Taehyung says, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I have a surprise.”

You crinkle your nose at the sight of him chewing with his mouth open. “Gross, Tae. What is it?”

He swallows with a roll of his eyes to get you to quit nagging, and it warms you to see that nothing has changed between the two of you. Finally, he announces, “I’m moving to Seoul.”

You nearly choke. “W-what?”

“My parents don’t need my help on the farm anymore,” he declares, and you can see that he’s practically vibrating with excitement. “I contacted the dean of admissions at SNU. You were right, they held onto my admission offer until I was ready. I’m moving here and starting work on my degree.”

After your brain finally processes the information, you lay your utensils down and slip into the opposite side of the booth where he’s sitting and hug him close.

“You’re moving here?”

“I’m moving here,” he affirms. And you feel your heart soar. The world is shifting, and you can’t help but feel like things are starting to move into place.

The two of you catch up over the rest of breakfast, and you offer to help Taehyung look for apartments while he’s here. He tells you that he still has to get back to Daegu, and that his parents are probably going to be worried if he doesn’t return soon. You promise to keep an eye out for listings for him anyway, and you can tell he’s just as excited to be getting out of Daegu as you were. Probably even more so, since he’s been trapped there even longer.

When he leaves, it’s with a bear hug and a promise to keep in touch, for real, this time. You both swear that you’ll never let anything like that tear your friendship apart again, and you tell him that you’ll count down the days until he moves to Seoul.

You get back to your apartment, and you feel lighter. Happy. You think to yourself that you should be sadder, more melancholy over your breakup, especially since you did love Jinyoung and the two of you were together for a long time. But as you tidy up your apartment a little before Chaeyoung comes home, your mind begins to wander.

You start to ask yourself if you were only with Jinyoung as a distraction, if he was right in that you were only using him to forget about someone else. And then once the distraction wasn’t working anymore, you stopped trying to pretend. You run a hand through your hair, wincing at the thought. You hope Jinyoung finds someone who will love him the way he deserves to be loved. He’s a good person, and he deserves a happy future with someone who will cherish him.

Once the common area is clean, you shuffle back into your room only to spot something on you desk. You let out the tiniest laugh at the sight. It’s a paper crane, made out of some scrap paper that Taehyung had no doubt found on your desk. You pick it up and look at the message written on the wing, something you haven’t done in over a year.

It’s longer than the other notes you’ve gotten from him, spanning over both wings, but then you realize that it’s a quote. You’ve heard him say it before, in quiet, contemplative moments. It brings a smile to your face as your eyes dance over the neat penmanship.

“Close friends are truly life’s treasures. Sometimes they know us better than we know ourselves. With gentle honesty, they are there to guide and support us, to share our laughter and our tears. Their presence reminds us that we are never really alone.”

You chuckle to yourself before carefully pressing the crane flat and holding it close to your heart. Taehyung always did love quoting Van Gogh.

—

You’re twenty-one when you realize you’re in love with your best friend.

With Taehyung living in Seoul, it’s like nothing ever changed between the two of you. You hang out nearly every day, sleeping over at each other’s apartments a few times a week when it’s too late to walk home and neither one of you feel like spending money on a cab. Seeing him happy and thriving in the city brings you more joy that you can express. He takes up darkroom photography as a hobby, and you love looking through his contact sheets to pick your favourite shots.

The two of you are closer than ever. It’s confusing, feeling this way about Taehyung. But you can’t ignore how your heart feels when he’s nearby, how you get nervous around him when he looks into your eyes for a second too long. You tell yourself it’s nothing when you wake up with his arms around you, holding you like you’re lovers, and remind yourself that you’re just friends when he presses kisses to your forehead when you say you have a headache.

You may have been using that excuse a little more liberally than necessary in the recent past.

You’re in love with Taehyung. And admitting that to yourself is easier than you realize. It’s the fear of the unknown, of the possibility of rejection upon confession that has you waiting for the right moment to tell him.

Because how could you not? You two have never kept secrets from one another before, and you know that even if he doesn’t love you like you hope he does, you’ll find a way to work past it. You would rather tell him the truth and hurt for a little if he doesn’t reciprocate, than never tell him and keep more secrets from your best friend.

It’s the end of the year already, and everyone around you is abuzz with talks of New Year’s celebrations. But around this time, you never really think about New Year’s, if you’re being honest. You care more about the fact that it’s Taehyung’s birthday, and that you finally get to celebrate it with him in Seoul after so many years.

You manage to gather up your friends to throw him a surprise party in your apartment, which is where they’re all hiding, now. You and Taehyung had gone shopping for his birthday, and you had plans to go for dinner and drinks later. You tell him that you have to drop off your bags at home first, since you don’t want to bring all your stuff to the bar, and he agrees.

You open the door to your apartment and immediately slap your hand over your face when you see that your polite house guests have all taken off their shoes and left them along the front hall. You chuckle and take Taehyung by the hand, who is also biting back a smile, and lead him to where you both know your friends are attempting to hide.

With a flick of your finger, you switch on the lights. All of your friends jump out of their hiding places and scream, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUNG!”

He’s laughing so hard that his eyes have turned into crescent moons. Jimin emerges from the kitchen with a cake and lit candles, leading the singing when it comes time to shut the lights off again. Taehyung looks over at you with adoration in his eyes and you give him a one-armed hug.

“Make a wish,” you gesture to the cake. His eyes linger on you for a second longer before he turns and closes his eyes. He’s quiet for a few seconds, and then blows them out, getting all of them in one long breath.

Everyone cheers and claps before someone, presumably Yoongi, puts on some background music. It’s a chill hip-hop playlist that he curated a while ago that often plays when everyone gets together. If there’s one thing Yoongi is good at, it’s creating sonic atmospheres that fit every situation.

The party is in full swing. People in the kitchen are taking shots, a few of which you and Taehyung participate in, while others are in the living room either having nonsense conversations or playing Settlers of Catan. You notice Taehyung nursing a drink from the corner of the room, observing everyone quietly until he sees you watching him. You put your cup down and walk over to him, taking his free hand in yours and lacing your fingers together.

“I have a gift for you,” you whisper into his ear, needing to rise to your tip toes to do so. He turns to you with a grin and then gestures to the party.

“This wasn’t the gift?”

You laugh and shake your head, a warm and comfortable buzz humming through your veins. “Trust me. You’ll like this gift more.”

You sneak him away to your room, which you had expressed to your friends prior to their arrival was strictly off-limits (Chaeyoung graciously offered to use her room for everyone’s coats and bags). Once the door is closed and the two of you are alone, suddenly, you feel really nervous. Taehyung stands by your desk and his eyes dance over the little trinkets and things, as well as photos he’s taken that you’ve pinned to your wall.

While he’s distracted, you pick up the gift you bought him from under the table and hand it over. It’s in a bag with multicoloured tissues sticking out from the top, and he takes it from your hands with a boxy smile.

Moving the tissues aside, you see his face shift into a look of awe when he pulls the heavy book from the bag. He stares at the cover, holding the tome in his hands as he struggles to find words.

“It’s letters from Vincent Van Gogh to his brother Theo,” you say, just to cut the tension. “I know how much you love him, and I read a few parts of it from a copy I found at the library a while back. I figured you would like it.”

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung breathes. “Thank you, Y/N. For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, suddenly bashful. You look up at him and his eyes are on you, and he’s looking at you in a way that you can’t quite read. It’s now or never, you decide, and you take the book from his grasp and lay it on your desk. “I have something else for you. But you have to close your eyes.”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side but agrees, closing his eyes until they fall shut. Exhaling shakily, you take a step closer until you’re nearly toe-to-toe. You gently cup either side of his jaw and lift yourself up, pressing your lips against his. The kiss is soft and lasts only a few seconds, and when you pull away, you lean into his ear and whisper:

“I love you, Taehyung.”

You move to take a step back, bashfully looking away when you feel his arms loop around your waist and tug you flush against him. His lips are on yours again in a split second and you whimper against his mouth as he kisses you for all he’s worth. His hands are everywhere as your fingers tangle in his hair, both of you desperately trying to get closer and closer.

“Never thought I would get to do that again,” he jokes when he finally breaks away for oxygen. Then, as if he’s suddenly remembered something, he says, “I have a gift for you too.”

Your eyes automatically dart down to the growing bulge in his pants. He laughs and swats at your arm.

“Not that, you perv.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paper crane, one made with paper that has little pink and red hearts all over it. He re-shapes it so that it stands up on its own and gives it to you, and you look up at him curiously before looking at the message.

Your heart nearly stops as you read the words.

“Because I love you.”

Tears are in your eyes as you repeat them. “You love me?”

Taehyung’s grip on you tightens, and he leans his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he affirms. “So much. And for so, so fucking long.”

You kiss him again at that. It’s slower this time, and now that you have both spoken your truths, there’s no need to rush. You’ve loved Taehyung your whole life, and you’ll continue to love him for the rest of it. You feel the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and then you’re tumbling down, taking him with you. The length of his body is pressed flush to yours, his strong, lean thigh parting your legs as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

The moan that escapes your lips as he grinds into you is lewd and you have to remember that all of your friends are literally just down the hall. You try to be quiet but Taehyung is having none of that, his large hands playing with the hem of your shirt until he’s tugging it up and over your head.

His lips are everywhere, worshipping you with his mouth and tongue as he nips at the curve of your breast and maps out galaxies across your ribs and stomach. Under his questing fingers and insistent mouth, you feel like an absolute goddess. His touch is so reverent, so intoxicating, that you nearly cry out his name as he presses a kiss to your core through the denim of your jeans.

“F-fuck, Tae,” you whimper as he begins to slowly unzip your fly. “Please, I need you.”

“I have been waiting for years to hear you say that,” he admits, working the material down your legs. He drags your panties down too, and you sit up to unhook your bra. He’s still fully clothed, you realize, but there’s something so sexy about how he’s looking at you, crouched at the foot of your bed, your bare legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders that you don’t protest just yet.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh and you can’t help but shiver. The smirk he sends your way is devastating, and you feel yourself getting even wetter at the sight of him with his mouth so close to where you desire him the most.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he murmurs before he’s flicking his tongue directly against your clit. You yelp, not expecting it when he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and alternates between sucking and flicking motions. Your thighs tighten around either side of his head until he pins them open, exposing you completely.

His eyes never leave yours as his tongue gets to work exploring you for the first time. He licks a stripe up your cunt, not too hard, but just enough so that you know he’s there. He pays extra attention to your clit, noticing just what makes your body sing and sigh so that he can do it again and again and again. You jolt slightly when you feel one of his fingers prodding at your entrance, and Taehyung kisses your mons gently.

“Really want to fuck you with my fingers,” he admits. “I’ve been dreaming of it for so long. Can I…?”

“Yes,” you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, Tae, fuck—”

“So fucking beautiful,” Taehyung groans as he gathers your wetness on two of his fingers and starts to press them into you. You moan at the stretch, of the feeling of him touching you so intimately. You feel his knuckles slipping past your folds until his fingers are buried deep. Then he curls his fingers in a come hither motion and tugs gently on the front of your walls, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. You slap your hand over your mouth as he rubs that spot over and over, lips and tongue back on your clit. You whimper and try to keep quiet, but the slick sound of Taehyung’s fingers fucking into you and his tongue lapping at your most sensitive area are just too much.

You feel yourself starting to shake, like that coil inside of you is about to snap. You can’t believe how well Taehyung knows your body already, how he can tell exactly what you need. You feel yourself teetering along the edge, and you gasp out that you’re close. Taehyung takes his free hand and fondles your breast, pinching at your nipple until you’re crying out.

“Come on my tongue,” he moans against your skin. “Come on my tongue and my fingers, come for me baby, c’mon, soak my face, I know you can do it—”

Your orgasm hits you so hard that you nearly scream. Hands fisting the sheets, you squeak out his name and buck your hips, grinding against his mouth as you come. His fingers keep working inside of you, as does his tongue on your clit, to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. When the feeling starts to border on pain, you whimper and squirm away.

Taehyung kisses a wet trail up your stomach and between your breasts, stopping to lavish each nipple with attention as you impatiently tug at his shirt.

“Get naked,” you whine, gripping his sleeve. “This is torture.”

Taehyung smirks at you, purposely slowing down as he licks and suckles along your neck. “Baby, I haven’t showed you torture yet,” he purrs with an edge to his voice. You can feel how hard his cock is through his jeans, and the rough scratch of denim against your sensitive core is becoming too much.

You start to grind against him, aching for some kind of relief, and it’s your turn to grin when you see him squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he pants, sitting back on his haunches as he peels off his shirt. You get to work on his belt and his jeans, unable to stop yourself from staring when you see just how big he is. You look up at him with wide eyes and he laughs breathlessly. “You really know how to make a guy feel good, you know that?”

He moves to kick off his jeans and boxers, and then you’re finally both bare, both exposed and vulnerable for the first time. Taehyung places his hands on the bed and crawls over you, pressing his lips to yours to kiss you slowly. The kiss is gentle at first, and then becomes more insistent as he adds more pressure. His tongue on the seam of your mouth coaxes you to open up not only your lips, but your thighs as well. You part both for him as he settles himself against your heat.

Your thumbs massage gentle circles against his jaw as his tongue gently caresses yours. You hitch your leg over his hip and bring him closer, moaning quietly as you feel the underside of his cock brushing against your clit.

“Condom?” He asks, panting. You shake your head.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean,” you say in a rush. “Just wanna feel you. I trust you.”

“M’clean, too,” he promises, dipping down to kiss you again. “Been waiting for this moment my whole life. I love you, Y/N. So much.”

“I love you too, Tae,” you murmur against his lips. You trail your hand down to grip his cock, hot and heavy in your palm. You take some of your slick and pump it along his shaft, and you love the groan that leaves his throat at the sensation. Then you guide the head of his cock to your soaking entrance, and he slowly pushes into you.

The stretch is immense, but not painful as he fills you inch by inch. This, you realize, this is how it’s supposed to feel when you’re with the right person. Taehyung fills you so completely, like the missing piece of a puzzle, and you whimper out his name once he’s reached the hilt.

You feel his hot breath against your neck as he just stays there for a minute, cock pressed deep into you, unmoving. It’s as if you’re both memorizing each other, this feeling of being so close and yet needing to be closer still. You squeeze your walls down on him just slightly and he chokes on a breath.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “We really were made for each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly agree, turning to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I feel it, too.”

He pulls out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, slowly, so that you can both savour the feeling. You sigh out his name and hook your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper, harder.

Taehyung obliges, his lips never leaving yours as he braces his knees on the bed and one hand against your headboard, and starts to fuck you harder. The way he rolls his hips makes you dizzy, and you’re clawing at his back to pull him in even more. It’s so intoxicating, having him this close, bare skin against bare skin, offering up your rawest forms to one another. You feel his heartbeat against yours, pulsing in rhythm.

You whimper at his next deep thrust, one that has you shifting slightly up the bed. The pleasure is starting to overwhelm you. You’ve never felt more safe in anyone else’s arms, never felt more loved, more adored. Taehyung makes your heart soar, and the realization that you want to be with him forever brings tears to your eyes. You gasp out that you’re going to come, and his fingers are on your clit in an instant, somehow always knowing exactly what you need.

His name falls from your lips as you come, clenching down on his cock like a vice. He thrusts shallowly through your orgasm to prolong it as long as possible, his arms holding you as you quake and shiver from the aftershocks. Once you’ve come down, your eyes flutter open and you see Taehyung gazing down at you, his eyes full of wonder.

“You look so beautiful when you come,” he confesses, blush dusting his cheeks and chest. You laugh, a little breathless, and reach up to kiss him.

“Your turn to show me what you look like,” you purr against his lips. “Fill me up, Tae. I want to feel you, please…”

Not needing to be told twice, Taehyung adjusts the angle of his hips and starts fucking you harder, the blunt head of his cock pummelling against your g-spot. You feel that familiar heat starting to pool again, and you’re still shaking from the overstimulation. But Taehyung sees this and keeps doing it, keeps focusing on fucking your g-spot over and over until you’re moaning loudly and the bed frame is rattling against the wall.

“Come with me, baby,” Taehyung begs, lips and teeth on your neck. “I know you’ve got one more in you. Need you to come with me. I’m going to count you down, and then you’re gonna come on my cock. Okay?”

You feel your walls fluttering already, but you try to suppress your urge to come and weakly reply, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he pants, fucking you harder, the wet slap of his hips against yours obscenely filling the room. “We’re gonna come together in five.”

He maintains the same pace, but thrusts a little bit harder.

“Four.”

Harder still. It’s when his fingers land on your clit that you actually let out a scream.

“Three.”

You’re a mess as he fucks you faster, stapling your hips to the mattress with every thrust. You’re certain you’ll bruise after this, marks you’ll wear like badges of honour. But that’s for later. Right now, you need to come, and he’s stalling. You blink up at him and see that he’s watching you, making sure you’re paying attention.

“T-Tae…”

“What number are we at, sweetheart?”

You shiver at the pet name, and manage to squeak out, “Two.”

“Mm, good girl,” he grunts as he buries his head into the crook of your neck and delivers another particularly hard thrust. He feels you shaking underneath him as he furiously rubs at your clit. He can see in your eyes your desperation, your need for him. But he wants to stall for just a second longer. Just a little bit longer—

“Tae,” you cry out, your throat dry. “P-please, I can’t h-hold it, I—”

“One.”

Come, you hear him order. You feel like you’re floating. Like there’s nothing that exists in the universe except you and Taehyung, bathed in a beautiful white light as pleasure ripples through your bodies at the same time. It’s overwhelming, how good he feels, how intimate and right it feels to be with each other in this way. You cling to him, holding each other as you both reach euphoria in the safety of one another’s arms. You feel him filling you with thick ropes of come, marking you as his, and you take all that he has to give until you’ve both come down from your highs.

He lifts his head to look at you, gazing into your eyes before you pull him in for a kiss.

After he pulls away, Taehyung murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Hm?” You nuzzle your nose against his. “For what?”

He grins at you, big and boxy, and the sight alone makes you smile.

“For making my birthday wish come true.”

The two of you quietly clean up and get dressed once again, remembering that there’s a party just outside in the next room. Taehyung helps you straighten up your hair as best he can, though it still looks a little matted in the back. And you try to tame his hair as well, though your determined fingers had been keen knotting his locks. Once you both look somewhat presentable, you place your hand on the doorknob.

“Wait,” Taehyung says. You turn to face him, and he simply kisses you. You melt against him, so happy to finally be able to do this whenever you want. He pulls away and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you respond, and give his hand a squeeze. You intertwine your fingers and open the door, stepping out to rejoin the party.

Chaeyoung is the first to notice when you come back and she literally screams when she sees the two of you.

“Finally! Oh my god, Namjoon, look, it finally happened!” Chaeyoung is still screaming, tugging on her boyfriend’s arm. Everyone then turns and sees the two of you holding hands looking bashful, along with the blossoming dark marks dotting your neck, and a chorus of cheers rings out through the room. You playfully glare at your friends that are blatantly exchanging money, and hide your face against Taehyung’s chest when Jimin and Jungkook come over to high-five you both.

“We have been waiting for this day since forever,” Jimin drawls, alcohol slurring his words slightly. “Kookie and I had a bet to see if you would get together before the end of the year, and you just made it with a day to spare. So now Jungkook owes me fifty bucks.”

“Two more sleeps!” Jungkook whines. “You lovebirds couldn’t wait for two more sleeps?”

“Regardless,” Jimin interjects. “Thank god it finally happened. I don’t think I could have waited much longer.”

“Hey,” Chaeyoung butts in, Namjoon watching her in amusement. “You don’t get to complain about waiting for those two idiots to get together. Did you know I was there when they met? And did you know that I figured out that Taehyungie had a crush on Y/N the second week that he joined our class?”

You look up at Taehyung in alarm. “You’ve liked me for that long?”

Taehyung blushes, suddenly bashful as he gives your hand a squeeze. “Yeah. Since the first day we met. Chaeyoungie figured it out and flat out asked me one day at recess. She had me cornered, so I had to tell her. But she promised she would keep it a secret. And, apparently to her credit, she has.”

“Damn right, I have, I’m a great friend,” she grumbles. “Even though it literally killed me to see you both not acting on your feelings for over a decade.”

“Enough about that,” you say hastily, waving your arms. “It’s Tae’s birthday. Did you want to open presents? I can get you a slice of cake.”

Taehyung just chuckles and nods at your obvious ploy to divert your friends’ attentions. “Sure. Let’s go open presents.”

“Can I also just say,” Jungkook declares, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t know what was going on in there, but Tae, you deserve a high-five.”

You swat at your younger friend in dismay. “Jungkook!”

“You were pretty loud,” Chaeyoung admits with a shrug. Jimin nods pretty vigorously.

“Neither of you noticed when we turned up the volume on the music?”

Taehyung glances at you and scratches at the back of his neck. “Uh, no…we were…a little…preoccupied.”

You groan and slap your hand over your face. “Did everyone hear us?”

From across the room, Yoongi barks, “Yup.”

You’re about to hang your head in shame when Jimin lifts his cup. “I propose a toast!”

You and Taehyung are handed drinks, some fruit punch concoction that Seokjin mixed up. You all raise your cups as Jimin ponders what to say. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and beams at the two of you.

“To wishes coming true.”

You lean up and peck Taehyung on the cheek.

“To wishes coming true.”

—

You’re twenty-three when Taehyung folds his 1000th paper crane.

Being with Taehyung is like a dream come true. He really is unconditional with his love, and even when he simply looks at you, it makes your heart beat a little faster against your ribcage. He’s just so passionate and so open about his love for you, and being with him is incredible.

Not that it isn’t also without hardships. Every relationship falters from time to time. Angry words are exchanged, stubborn attitudes have gotten in the way of reason and logic and instead allowed for emotion and hurt to rule. But you always come back to one another, always talk it out. Because you both know that love is a choice, and that being in love and staying in love takes work. And so you both put in the work.

It doesn’t take you both long to decide that it’s time for the two of you to move in together.

And after months of planning, it’s moving day. It’s a day that’s been a long time coming. The two of you were already basically living together in Taehyung’s tiny bachelor apartment, but this new apartment is going to be the both of yours. A shared space for the two of you, one that you can make a home.

You’re unloading the last of the boxes from the truck into your new place, surveying the area with a sigh. You and Taehyung have already decided on what colours to paint the walls and what art to buy, so it’s just a matter of getting everything unpacked and sorted.

“Are there any more boxes left in the truck?” Taehyung asks, stretching out his spine with his arms raised above his head. You plop down on the couch and groan, shutting your eyes for just a second.

“That’s the last of it. Finally.” Cracking an eye open to peer at your boyfriend, you ask, “Did you want to start unpacking now?”

Taehyung shrugs, lifting the lid off a box that’s labelled Kitchen. “Might as well. We can unpack for a bit and then maybe go get something to eat in a few hours?”

You rise up to your feet, heading for your new bedroom. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to make the bed and unpack our clothes, okay?”

He’s already trying to figure out the best place to put your drinking glasses, peering at each cabinet for what feels like the perfect spot. “Okay. I’ll come help you once I finish up in here.”

You make your way into your room, the bed having already been delivered and assembled prior to your actual moving day. You, being the more organized of the two of you, had scheduled your moving day so that it would be a little later in the month. That way, you and Taehyung were able to order your new furniture and assemble it without all the clutter of cardboard boxes getting in the way. Now, it was mostly just a matter of unpacking your essentials and decorating.

Unpacking goes relatively smoothly. You’re done organizing yours and Taehyung’s clothes, placing his silk button-ups on hangers so that they can be properly stored. There’s a pile of flattened cardboard boxes on the ground in the corner of the room, a symbol of your triumph and accomplishments. You’re feeling good, having found your second wind, and reach for another box.

When you lift the lid, you suddenly freeze. It’s the box you packed that has three shoe boxes in it, and you gingerly lift out each one, placing them down on your bed before doing away with the larger cardboard box. You take a seat at the edge of the bed and place one of the shoe boxes in your lap. You lift the lid and see all those paper cranes, made of different sizes and different kinds of paper.

You can’t help but smile, thinking about how Taehyung’s been getting back into the habit of making you paper cranes again recently. He had stopped for a while when you first started dating, maybe giving you one every few months, but as of late, he’s been making them more and more. And the messages he’s been writing on the wings have been for little things, nothing major or monumental like when you were kids.

You recall just last week, he made you one that just read, “Because you made me the best coffee ever” after you bought a new Nespresso machine. Taehyung always did like celebrating the everyday moments, the ones that you would have probably overlooked. That’s one of the things that makes being with Taehyung so exciting, so wonderful. He makes every day seem like magic.

You’re just in the process of reading some of his old messages, the ones with messier penmanship that were crafted by a child, when you hear a throat clearing by your bedroom door. You look up and see Taehyung smiling at you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Kitchen’s mostly unpacked,” he states, wandering over to you. “What are you looking at?”

Gesturing to the boxes, you smile, “The cranes that you’ve made me over the years.” You scoot over to make room for Taehyung, who immediately takes a seat at your side, thighs touching as he loops one arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. Pecking you on the cheek, he gives a low whistle.

“That’s a lot,” he notes. “I can’t believe you kept all of them for all these years. When you see them all in one spot like this, it looks kinda crazy.”

His tone is bashful, almost a little embarrassed. You turn to face him, pressing a sweet, soft kiss against his lips. “It’s not crazy,” you promise. “It’s a beautiful, romantic gesture, and it’s made me so happy ever since we were kids. And it still makes me happy when I look at them. So there.”

Taehyung laughs at your tone of finality and nuzzles his nose against the crook of your neck. “Okay.”

You lean into his embrace, an automatic reflex at this point. You shuffle through the cranes until you find the one you’re looking for. You gasp when you see it, and you carefully pull it out. It’s old and worn, yellowing along the edges, but it’s the one. The one made from a ripped out piece of notebook paper, with butterflies drawn all over it, flying through an open meadow. Your eyes start to well up when you read the first message Taehyung ever wrote for you: “Because you stuck up for me.”

“The first one I ever made you,” Taehyung notes quietly, his arm tightening around your waist. “I remember that day so clearly. I remember when you came over and scared away those bullies, I thought you were an angel.”

You laugh at that, nudging him playfully. “Oh, come on. That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Taehyung insists. “You’ve meant so much to me since we were little kids, you know? And I’ve loved you ever since then. We’ve seen each other grow up, seen the best and worst parts of one another…” Taehyung sits up a little straighter and looks deep into your eyes as he says, “No one in the world knows me as well as you.”

You lift your hand to brush his fringe out of his eyes, lingering to softly caress his cheek as he leans into your touch. “The same goes for me,” you promise. And then you joke, “I feel like you know more about me than my mom does.”

He laughs at that. “Probably.” Taehyung suddenly goes quiet, his eyes focused on the boxes of paper cranes on the bed. “How many have I made for you?”

You ponder for a second. “A lot. Maybe around nine-hundred…”

“Nine hundred and ninety-nine,” he replies. “The one I gave you three days ago was number nine hundred and ninety-nine.”

You cock your head to the side. “Why did you ask if you already—”

Taehyung suddenly looks nervous. You see it in how his expression changes, how his shoulders curl inwards and how his foot taps anxiously against the ground.

“I love you,” he says, and it sounds like he’s saying it for the first time. He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. “I love you, and I want you to have this.”

It’s a paper crane, one that he takes his time properly re-shaping so that it can stand on its own before laying it on the flat of his palm and extending it out to you.

“Number one thousand,” you remark with a smile, picking it up and holding it in your hands. You frown slightly, noticing that it’s heavier than it should be. It feels a little like something is inside of it, and you regard Taehyung curiously when you see that there’s no message on the wing like their usually is.

He bites at his lip slightly, and you feel your heartbeat drumming faster and faster.

“Open it.”

With shaking fingers, you carefully unfold the piece of paper until it’s flat in your hands. You look up at Taehyung, tears rolling down your cheeks, as he slips from the bed and takes your hand, lowering himself to one knee.

Taped to the inside of the paper is an engagement ring, along with the message, “Will you make my wish come true?”

You can barely see Taehyung through the tears, but you’ve never been happier. The way he’s looking at you now, open and honest, makes you even more sure of your answer.

“I know we’re young,” Taehyung says in a rush. “And I know we’re just moving in together now, and that I’m still only halfway done school. But we can always wait to get married, it doesn’t have to be anytime soon, I just needed to ask you because if I didn’t, I was going to explode, and I—”

“Yes,” you laugh, wiping hastily at your eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Taehyung carefully removes the tape from the ring and slips it on your finger, his boxy smile practically blinding as he takes in the sight of you as his fiancée for the first time. Once the ring is securely on your finger, Taehyung kisses you, and it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. You quickly clear everything off the bed, albeit a little hastily, as Taehyung’s curious hands start to wander, and your clothes, one by one, hit the floor.

You take your time with one another, committing each other’s bodies to memory with your mouth and hands before Taehyung finally slides home and has you seeing stars. His touch is like fire, melting away any fears or insecurities about the future until all you can see and feel is him on you, inside of you, offering you forever and you gladly accept with an open heart.

Boxes are left abandoned for the echo of moans along the temporarily barren walls. You never do finish unpacking the rest of the apartment that night.

Instead you fall asleep, tangled in the arms of your soulmate, bare skin against bare skin. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with Taehyung, though it wasn’t as if living without each other was ever going to be an option, anyway. Not with how the universe put the two of you together. Your best friend, your fiancé, and two years later once Taehyung gets his degree, your husband, and a few years after that, the father of your children.

You’ve never been loved so wholly, so completely, so unconditionally as you have with Taehyung. And while it might have taken him a thousand paper cranes to muster up the courage to propose, but you can’t help but think that he’s been making every single one of your wishes come true since he walked into your classroom in Daegu all those years ago.

You can’t wait for forever with him. So for now, you sleep, the brilliant diamond resting upon your ring finger full of promises of a bright, beautiful future with Taehyung by your side. Just as it was destined to be.

A/N: Finally, it’s done! I hope you liked it. I’ve never written in this kind of format before, so I hope it all made sense. Let me know what you think, and please share it if you enjoyed! Constructive feedback is always welcome :)

11K notes · View notes

kpophours · 4 years

Text

Summer Time

➵ The Boyz: Kevin x fem. reader / one shot, summer trip AU, college AU / fluff

➵ warnings: none

➵ word count: 2.6k

Gentle wind sweeps over you, and almost immediately, goosebumps rise all over your body. You just smile contently, and turn your head towards the sky, inhaling deeply and enjoying the soft sound of the waves. You taste the salt of the ocean on your lips when your tongue darts out to wet them. It’s already quite warm for late Spring, so you’re barefooted, able to bury your toes in the cool sand underneath your feet. You had been surprised yet pleased when Kevin had asked you to join him and some of his friends on a day trip to the beach, and being here now, you’re more than happy he did.

The day has been great so far - filled with lots of fun, laughter and sunshine, even though you were sadly unable to go swimming, the sea still being too cold to do so. So instead, you had resorted to basking in the sun, playing beach volleyball and building sand castles. Together with Jacob, you had spent almost an hour under the blindingly bright midday sun, searching for pretty seashells to take back to your dorm as a small souvenir. That was, until you had been interrupted by Younghoon’s horrified high-pitched screech when a seagull had suddenly decided to chase him. The tall boy had sprinted up and down the beach, trying to shake off the bird, and making you laugh until your belly hurt - thankfully, the seagull had finally decided to let him be, and simply flown off into the sky again.

Now that the sun has slowly begun to set, you’re all searching for driftwood, wanting to build a bonfire and to make some s’mores, something you’ve been really looking forward to. Kevin walks a few feet ahead of you, wearing a ridiculously big straw hat - which he still somehow makes work though -, and bending over from time to time to pick up another piece of driftwood, all while humming a soft, familiar tune under his breath. You can’t help but smile when you listen to his voice, and close your eyes for a few seconds while continuing to walk. When you open your eyes again, you squeal - Kevin has come to a sudden halt, and is now standing directly in front of you, his dark eyes softly boring into yours. He giggles at your surprised expression and playfully pinches your cheek. “Never walk with your eyes closed, silly. Knowing you, you’ll just stumble and probably hurt yourself.”, he says affectionately, and you blush and roll your eyes at him, but nod nevertheless. He is right, after all. “Can you take this back to the others? I’ll search for some more and will join you guys shortly.”, he then asks, and, after you nod again, drops some pieces of driftwood into your arms. You stagger under the weight, but give him a soft smile. He returns it, gives you a mock salute, and continues to tramp towards some sand dunes not too far away. You just sigh and turn around to walk back towards your little camp, joining the small group of Kevin’s friends again.

“Oh here, let me help you.”, Juyeon offers the second he spots you staggering towards him, and you thank him when he takes the driftwood out of your arms. “Y/N, come join me!”, Marie, Juyeon’s girlfriend, says, waving at you. You smile and fall down beside her, stretching your legs out in front of you and wiggling your toes. She smiles as well, and hands you a bottle of water. “You should drink something, you’ve been in the sun all day. I hope you put on enough sunscreen this morning!”, she says, and you chuckle. “Thanks, mom.”, you just say playfully, but her worried words actually warm your heart. You take the bottle from her, and she grins at you, before turning around to watch Juyeon stacking the driftwood, a dreamy expression crossing her face. Without wanting to, your eyes wander towards Kevin, who’s currently trying to climb one of the sand dunes, but almost failing to do so as the soft sand continues to slip away under his feet, making it almost impossible to walk on. You press your lips into a tight line to stifle a giggle, and jump when Marie suddenly pokes your side. “You like him, don’t you?”, she whispers, low enough so no one except you can hear it, and you shoot her a surprised look. Her face is open and inviting, eyes kind, but you just shrug, averting your eyes and taking some sand into your left hand, letting it run through your fingers - you don’t really like talking about your feelings, especially not with someone you’ve only just met. “He likes you too.”, Marie just says, and you whip your head around to face her again. She just winks at you and leans back on her elbows, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. “What makes you say that?”, you finally ask, and she chuckles. “I’ve known Kevin for a long time now. He’s never asked a girl to join one of our trips before, because he’s usually too shy to do so. That can only mean you are someone special to him.” You don’t answer and simply look back to watch Kevin, who has finally managed to climb up the sand dune and is now busy picking up some more driftwood. You gnaw on your lower lip, thinking about what Marie just said.

You and Kevin have gotten to know each other thanks to a shared class, both of you being enrolled at the same college. For some reason, he had chosen to sit beside you on the first day of said class, striking up a conversation and complimenting some of your doodles he had seen you draw into your notebook, showing you some of his own in return. Even on that first day, you had already noticed that talking to him was just... easy. And by now, you can’t deny that your heart always skips a beat when you see his small smile or hear his soft giggle. You’re also definitely thinking way too much about how it would feel like to run your fingers through his soft looking, dark hair. You truly like him and enjoy his company, and all his friends have been very nice and welcoming today too. But you yourself are too shy to say anything about this to him - you’re not brave enough to make the first move. Knowing Kevin though, he’s probably never going to make the first move either... You shake your head at that thought, sigh and empty your bottle of water, leaning back on your elbows and closing your eyes as well.

You must have nodded off, because the next thing you know is someone softly chuckling beside you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. You scrunch up your nose and slowly open your eyes, blinking a few times until Kevin comes into focus, sitting cross legged beside you and looking at you, amusement written all over his face. He grins when he sees your sleepy expression, and shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Unbelievable - everyone is working so hard for the bonfire and what are you doing? Taking a nap!”, he jokes, and you just stick out your tongue at him, before standing up to stretch and brush the sand off your clothes. Kevin jumps up as well, helping you get rid of the sand on the back of your shirt, his hand lingering a bit longer on the small of your back than necessary. You feel your whole body heat up under his touch, and quickly clear your throat, feeling a bit awkward, but giving your friend a shy smile nevertheless, which he immediately returns. He seems to be wanting to say something to you, but before he can do so, he gets interrupted by Hyunjae: “Does anyone know how to build a fire?” Everyone looks at one another, expression clueless and questioning, until you chuckle. “I can try, I was a scout once.”, you offer, deciding not to tell them that your scouting experience was not only very brief, but also quite some time ago.

You begin to build a cone-like structure with some small pieces of driftwood, Kevin standing beside you looking quite impressed by your skills while Hyunjae just observes you critically. “First of all, we need to use the smallest pieces of wood as kindling, then we can slowly add some bigger pieces to fuel the flames and afterwards, we can finally use the big logs you guys found.”, you explain after you’ve finished stacking the smaller pieces, taking the matches from Hyunjae and lighting one, carefully holding it to the kindling and patiently waiting for it to catch fire. Afterwards, you do exactly what you’ve just told the others, and soon, the bonfire is burning bright and high. “Our fiery queen.”, Jacob says, shooting you an angelic smile and giving you a high five, while Younghoon just stares at the flames, his big puppy eyes wide and round while his mouth hangs slightly open. “Bear Grylls is shaking right now.”, Kevin murmurs, and you just grin and playfully roll your eyes at him.

Suddenly, he slips his hand into yours to pull you with him towards some of the pillows Marie has placed on the ground around the fire pit to make sitting on the ground a bit more comfortable. As soon as you’ve sat down, Kevin lets go of your hand again, finally taking off his ridiculous straw hat and beginning to fiddle with it, probably trying to keep his hands busy. You’re both silent, but it’s a very comfortable silence, you don’t really feel the need to make conversation right now. Jacob has begun to strum his guitar and is playing a soft tune, while the others are talking in low voices. Juyeon and Marie are laying on their backs, staring into the sky - observing how its colors slowly shift from hues of purple and red to soft blues -, their hands intertwined, sharing secret smiles and giggles. Younghoon and Hyunjae are deep in conversation, the latter one’s loud laugh piercing the quiet atmosphere from time to time. You can’t help but smile while you observe the others, curling your toes into the cool sand.

“I- uhm, I just wanted to thank you for coming today, I truly had a great time with you.”, Kevin suddenly says, and you whip your head around to look at him. His eyes are trained on the straw hat in his hands, as if he’s afraid to look at you. Your lips twitch and you tilt your head to one side. “I’m glad you asked me to come. It was a fun day, your friends are really nice.”, you answer softly, and he finally looks up, locking eyes with you and giving you a relieved smile. “I’m happy you think so. I know meeting lots of new people can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, especially if you’re not really much of an extrovert.”, he says, and you nod in agreement, tucking your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “Why did you ask me to come with you, by the way? I’ve been wondering, we only share one class and haven’t really hung out outside of it yet, and we only really talk via text…”, you drift off, biting your lower lip, and look at Kevin in anticipation. His gaze darts from you to the bonfire and back again, the flames softly illuminating his face. “I- uhm... I just… well, I think you are really… nice.”, he says, scratching his ear and ducking his head. You suppress a smile and raise both eyebrows. “I am nice?”, you can’t help but chuckle, and he laughs, a tad embarrassed by his own lame answer. “Well, I just… I like you. Every time we talk, I really enjoy it - you’re fun to talk to. So, I just wanted to get to know you better, I guess.”, he finally explains, apparently feeling a bit bolder now, and shrugs. You avert your eyes, a shy yet pleased smile gracing your lips. “I like you too.”, you mumble, and duck your head when you see a smile bloom on his face at your words. There’s the lightest of touches on your hand, and suddenly, Kevin intertwines his fingers with yours again. You look up, surprise written all over your face, and he gives you a soft smile which you return. “You want to take a little stroll?”, he asks, voice low, and you nod, letting yourself be pulled to your feet by him, your hand still securely held in his. The others don’t say anything, but you can feel their eyes following your every step - you decide to just ignore them for now.

Dusk has fully settled in by now and night is falling, the first stars already lazily twinkling down at you. Kevin gently swings your intertwined hands between your bodies and you grin, following him towards where the sea meets the land. The soft sound of the waves drowns out the sound of Jacob’s guitar as well as the laughter of the others, and it feels like you’re truly alone right now. Your heart begins to speed up, hammering fast inside your chest, and you feel your hands get clammy. You jump and yelp when one of the waves suddenly comes close enough to lap at your naked feet, the coolness of the water making you shiver. Kevin breaks into loud laughter at your shocked expression, and you shove him playfully. He loses his balance, falling onto his back and pulling you down with him. You land in a pile of scrambling arms and legs, giggling uncontrollably until suddenly, Kevin’s lips are on yours.

You inhale sharply, before you melt against him. He wraps his arms around your back to pull you even closer, while you push both hands into his dark hair - it feels just as silky as you’ve always imagined. After a few seconds, you pull back to catch your breath, staring down at Kevin, who’s looking at you with soft, dark eyes and a happy expression on his face. You break into a smile and nuzzle his nose, and he pulls you even closer, playfully kissing both your cheeks and nose before nipping on your lower lip. “I guess that’s one way of getting to know me better.”, you finally mumble, and he chuckles, pushing some of your hair back behind your left ear and nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. It might even be my favorite way, actually.” You can’t help but grin at his cheekiness, before diving in for another kiss. He just smiles against your lips and hums appreciatively.

Suddenly, there’s a yell coming from the bonfire: “Y/N, KEVIN, WE’RE MAKING S’MORES NOW! ARE YOU COMING OR SHOULD WE LEAVE YOU ALONE AND EAT ALL THE S’MORES WITHOUT YOU?” Before either of you can answer, there’s a slapping sound followed by a yelp, and a second later, Maria yells: “DON’T WORRY, HYUN IS JUST BEING STUPID, AS ALWAYS! WE WON’T EAT EVERYTHING, SO DON’T WORRY! JUST TAKE YOUR TIME AND COME BACK... WHENEVER!”

Kevin and you freeze for a few seconds, before you both break into loud laughter. You bury your face into his neck and he chuckles, one of his hands rubbing gentle circles against the small of your back. “Let’s stay here a little longer, before we join the others again.”, he murmurs, and you just nod in agreement, deeply inhaling the salty night air and Kevin’s unique scent.

For now, you’re just happy to be in his arms and to bask in the warmth of his body - the s’mores can definitely wait a bit longer.

[masterlist] | [requests]

94 notes · View notes

colorseeingchick · 3 years

Note

Hello, colorseeingchick, I hope you’re having a nice day, and congrats on reaching 200 followers! I wanted to say I really like your Kuroko no Basket posts. I was recently looking for some small fanfics of Kuroko no Basket and I am glad I’ve found yours. I am also looking forward to reading your “Oh! Baby Series” of Tsukishima.

For the 200 Follower event, I would like to request a Kuroko no Basket matchup. I’d prefer to be matched with a male and my pronouns are she/her. I am currently 16 years old, I have brown skin and dark brown eyes. My hair is a dark brown color(almost black), very curly, and it reaches toward my mid-back. I’m 5’2” in height and I am an Aquarius(For Midorima).

I usually like to watch anime and read in my free time. I really love chocolate and exercising. I dislike people that lie a lot, peanuts, peanut butter, pecans, almonds, avocados, and onions. My hobbies are writing, drawing, reading, watching tv, singing, and playing the Piano. I think I’m particularly talented at writing since everyone seems to like my writing very much and right now I’m practicing my creative writing skills.

Personality: When I first meet someone, I tend to be quiet and just observe everyone. If anyone comes up to me, I usually just introduce myself, and depending on who the person is I may strike up a conversation. If I don’t then the person that’s talking to me will usually make conversation and I will quietly listen. I would usually just nod or say things like (yea, right, mhm) to show that I am listening. If I begin to feel comfortable I will give my opinion on the subject or try to strike up my own topic. But once I get really comfortable with that person I can become very goofy. I’ll start randomly dancing in the hallways and make weird sounds when I’m with that person. And depending on the person this can either increase or decrease in weirdness. I’m very good at listening to people especially when it comes to a person talking about their passions. My friends and family tend to laugh at a few things I say. They’re never really jokes there just situations I’ve been in and Apparently, they’re funny. I don’t tend to touch people, the most I really do regularly is either is put my hand/elbow on the person’s shoulder(Doesn’t matter if they’re tall or short) or begin poking them in odd places.

Negative Things: If someone is sad or insecure about something, I don’t know how to react, I usually just stare at them while they cry to themselves. I would not suggest that any of my friends come to me for emotional support. Unless they just want someone to listen to them. I don’t know how to take compliments. Once someone compliments me I usually just stare at the person or say thank you very slowly.

Additional: Since me and my friends were in chorus, we would usually just begin singing our chorus songs very loudly. It didn’t matter where we were, we would just begin singing. There was a time where my friend called me super sweet because I was checking up on them during the pandemic. My friends also said I give the best presents and truthfully I struggle trying to find presents. I want to give my friends something they can use or they really like. For example, I gave my friend a drawing notebook and some art supplies since they like to do art. I’ve been told that I have a mean resting face and that I act more mature for my age. I also asked my friends to describe me and they said, “Beautifully, Creative, Loving, Silly, Writer, Fashionable, Pretty, Innocent, and Nice Hairstyles.”

I swear I don’t where they’re getting these nice compliments. Hopefully, this is not too long.

Hello noodleman!!!! This was perfect do not worry. They compliment you because you're amazing haha. I always see you in my notifications and it makes me so happy :) I’m very excited to do both your matchups! For KNB, I’ve matched you with…

Akashi Seijuro!

We all know Akashi is a powerful man who’s been through a lot. As a girlfriend, you would be the one to both compliment his power and balance out his emotional state, even if you don’t intend to. And that would be the source of the beauty of your relationship with him.

You were a student at Rakuzan who would mind her own business. Akashi was in your class (ranking at the top) for the new school year, and you two sat next to each other. Akashi (this is the OG Akashi- the nice one) would introduce himself to you, and you would do the same. You observed Akashi quietly. The way he was so put together. His calm demeanor. His pretty eyes and how they were keenly watching everything. You didn’t realize he was observing you as well. While you both were just normal acquaintances at that point, things were about to change.

One day, you heard Akashi talking about basketball next to you. You could hear how passionate he was about it from the way he talked. The person he was talking to walked away, but you couldn’t help but ask him about basketball. Watching him talk that way was so enticing.

He looked at you for a second before smiling kindly and asking, “would you like to learn about basketball?” From there, you two would have a very engaged conversation with Akashi fanboying in a way that was as classy as fanboying could get, while you were listening attentively. You had to leave for the end of the day, but you left with a smiling Akashi out the door of the classroom.

The next major interaction between you two happened a few days later. You were doodling in your notebook when you heard him speak. “You’re very talented at drawing.”

You smiled awkwardly at the compliment, unsure of how to respond, so you just looked at him. He didn’t mind though. He just smiled back. “If you draw again, I’d like to see.” He then left soon after.

While you didn’t doodle again, you decided that maybe you were comfortable around Akashi, more than you thought you were.

A major shift in your dynamic happened one day when you were writing down intensely into a journal, stopping only when your hand hurt, taking time to think about your next words when you felt a light tap on your arm.

“Excuse me, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you writing?” He genuinely looked interested, which caught you by surprise.

And so you explained the short story you were writing. Akashi asked questions about the characters, the plot, where you got the idea from- all sorts of things. You both didn’t realize everyone else had already emptied out. “If you would like to share your story with me sometime, I would love to read it. And if you’d like to come by and watch my basketball team play, let me know.”

He was surprisingly easy to talk to. And that was the point where you both got closer. As you got closer, talking and learning more about each other, you both started to fall bit by bit. You both had a long list of hobbies and talents, much of which overlapped. Akashi was mesmerized by your singing, though he knew you wouldn’t like to hear the compliment if he gave it to you. Instead, he just asked you to always sing and gave you his full attention when you did. It went without say he loved your writing. He was a talented musician himself, and you found his game pretty entertaining- the way he dominated on the court.

He asked you out after Rakuzan had taken a big victory before the winter cup. You’d come to watch the game.

“Will you celebrate with me?” He asked you.

“With your team?”

“No, actually.” He’d smile at you and step closer, but had not invaded your personal space. “I’d like to actually get some time with you, on a date.”

He was pleased you said yes. The date went well. He’d learned you were mature, which is what he was looking for in a partner. He already knew you were talented and a good listener. It wasn’t long before he asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

Your dynamic with Akashi was well tailored. Being the captain of Rakuzan, he had an image to maintain- one of power. And having a girlfriend who he knew to be intimidating as well (your resting face was intense) was a fitting situation. He knew you observed and listened well, which is why he could trust that you would be thoughtful- something that was also very important to him. You also cared for efficiency and purpose. But what he didn’t realize he needed so badly was your goofiness. After you two had gotten as close as you were, he learned how funny your stories were and saw you in your most comfortable states. He loved your fun goofy side. It helped him live a little, too. He enjoyed elbowing you back when you did it to him (it was the most innocent playful thing he’d done). It didn’t bother Akashi all that much that you didn’t know how to deal with other people being emotional. He wasn’t one to show negative emotions all that much and didn’t project that expectation onto you, which made it a bit easier. He knew that if he needed to talk it out and have someone listen, he could always go to you.

Overall you and Akashi managed to balance out on a lot of your ideologies, world views, hobbies, and life practices. While some were the same, others were different- but in a complimentary way. It’s quite a beautiful dynamic, really.

~~~

Ahhh I really hope you like it! Lemme know what you think hehe. I'm excited to do your MHA one too!

#knb #knb matchup #csc hits 200 #colorseeingchick milestone

4 notes · View notes

mercyxkilling · 3 years

Text

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you...

@emptyvictory said: ♛ + my url if we're copying each other? Lol

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you the following;

my opinion on;

character in general: oh my god. niko bellic. i can’t explain to you the love affair that i have with this sassy ass motherfucker of a man and how much i want to hold him close and tell him that he’s good enough, though i bet he’d shove me away and tell me to never do that shit again and that i’m weird for doing it at all. he’s got such an amazing duality to him that i am in love with because like. yeah, he’ll fucking kill a buncha dudes, but then he’ll have a conversation in the car with a buddy about how he’s okay with saving some lives or some shit. he’s known to play peacemaker for some, but he’s also willing to smash a cameraman’s face in by kicking his foot through his skull because he doesn’t want to be on manny’s show. then when manny dies he says some callous ass shit about it and then goes about his business like nothing happened. niko is such a good man, he really is, but he’s also not at the same time, and is capable of doing such awful things. characters like that have always had a special place in my heart, and niko is no different. that accent helps an awful lot, too, lemme tell ya. it gives ya girl the vapors. *fans self* which is funny because i don’t actually find the man to be conventionally attractive, but all of that stuff i mentioned above? i mean... i’d let him touch me. i can’t lie. how they play them: now, rory, i know we’ve had this discussion before, but i’m going to say it again (to fuel your ego because i absolutely love doing that because i want you to feel as special as you truly are, and just because this is how i actually feel and i want to keep being honest about this stuff because secrets don’t make friends!!): if there were anyone else behind the wheel here taking charge of this slavic badass, i’m not so sure i’d even be interested in trying to have a thread with them at all. you bring such a take to this man that i cannot truly explain with words in an adequate way that could do you and what you do with him any justice. it’s just... an experience. and it’s an experience that i have loved from the moment we started all the way up till now, and i know i’ll feel the same way (and still quite as strongly!!) with anything and everything that we do in the future, be it with threads or asks or things in discord or just nonsensical little back-and-forths that we share once in a while when the mood strikes us. i love everything that we’ve done/are doing/will do, and i cannot fully describe to you just how much more i still want to have with you. i’m like mercy is with niko apparently; i’m fucking insatiable with these two. they’ve somehow become my OTP and that’s truly saying something since the last one i had lasted forever (all the way up to this point tbh--the one i told you about with my RDR verse where mercy and jack were supposed to get married? like, it’s managed to override even THAT one in my heart, that’s how much these two mean to me). i will never tire of niko x mercy content, i will ALWAYS want to hear your ideas about them, i will ALWAYS want to hear any ideas that you have for them--no matter how big or or how small they might seem, i will ALWAYS want to hear any ideas you might have for AUs with these two... i mean. i think you get the picture, yeah? BUT IF YOU DON’T COME FIND ME ON DISCORD AND I’LL GLADLY ELABORATE EVEN MORE IF YOU WANT, BECAUSE I COULD TALK ABOUT THESE FUCKERS FOR HOURS. I MEAN, YOU KNOW THAT I ALREADY HAVE, SO DON’T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME HERE, LMAOOOO. the mun: oh god, rory. ohgodohgodohgod. there are so many things that i want to say here, but i feel like you’ve heard me say them a thousand times already. i just... i want to make sure that you know that i love you, first and foremost. a lot of folks seem to think i throw the word ‘love’ around far too freely, but i very much beg to differ; i only use it when i truly mean it and when it truly means something to me. do with that knowledge what you will. you are such a treasure to me, and i can’t tell you how happy i am that you’re apart of my life and how much i wish we lived closer to one another so we could be silly together and i could actually ruffle your hair and give you platonic forehead smooches and wish you a good day at school each morning and then see you after classes and ask you about your day and talk to you about anything and everything as we sat side by side and watched some garbage like ancient aliens or played some ridiculous video games together while coming up with scenarios, both of us being like “oh my god, could you imagine if niko and mercy ____ together???” and things like that. but even if we aren’t closer, it doesn’t make me value your time that you give to me any less, and it doesn’t make me love the time that we spend talking with one another any less, either. i adore you so fucking much. i just... i just really, really, really love you, and i wish i could show you that better than just with some writing or a crappy doodle here and there you know? you deserve such good things. all the good things in life, in fact, and i wish i were capable of giving them to you. but i hope that you know that i truly am grateful for your presence in my life, i can’t imagine my experience here (or away from here and over on discord instead!) without you, as you’ve become such an integral part of my experience on this hellsite. niko and mercy are my OTP, and i’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, and you are very much stuck with me!

do i;

follow them: bitch, please. of fucking course i do. i can’t imagine not following rory. rp with them: as much as i possibly can and hopefully then some; i can’t get enough of niko and any other characters they want to introduce me to that they think mercy could mesh well with... or that she couldn’t mesh well with and yet could still make an amazing dynamic all the same. :P want to rp with them: are... are you illiterate? YES. ALL THE TIME. ALL DAY, ERRYDAY. ship their character with mine: one more time, for those in the back, and with feeling!: YES, YES, YES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES. i am so, so, so grateful that niko is part of mercy’s narrative (and honestly, i may even make it so that he’s part of her actual main backstory, that’s how much their relationship means to me and how much it’s allowed me to see her in so many different ways).

what is my;

overall opinion: holy shit i love you and i love niko and i love the way you play him and i love the way you really show his duality and i love the way he learned to respect mercy and how that respect turned to admiration and the way that admiration turned to full on attraction and how that attraction turned to awkward dating but not dating and how that awkward dating but not dating eventually turned into actual dating and how that led to mercy finally kissing him and how that kiss made him feel relief more than anything else but then how all of that turned into something even more awkward and how that led to mercy realizing finally how much she actually truly loved him despite never having been in love and despite the hurt that it caused and the way they both dealt with it (two hardened killers acting like BABIES omggggg) until finally, finally they were able to come to terms with it and are now left wondering where they’re supposed to go from here since they’ve never done anything like this before... AND ALL THE AUs WE COULD HAVE AND HOW THAT COULD END UP FOR THEM BOTH HAS ME SO FUCKING EXCITED BECAUSE WE COULD GET A CHANCE TO SEE THEM BEHAVE IN A DIFFERENT WAY LIKE WHAT IF THEY START OUT HATING EACH OTHER BUT HAVE A MUTUAL ATTRACTION BECAUSE NIKO’S LIKE ‘GODDAMN THIS BITCH IS STACKED BUT SHE’S GOT SUCH A MOUTH ON HER UGH’ OR MAYBE THE RDR AU COULD HAVE SOME STRIFE BETWEEN THEM SINCE MERCY RUNS WITH HER POSSE AND COULD POSSIBLY END UP HITTING A TARGET THAT HE PLANNED TO OR OR OR OMG THE POSSIBILITIES RORY OMFG THERE ARE JUST SO FUCKING MANY and i just can’t wait to experience them all with you and your interpretation of niko because it’s just so fucking good and they’re such a good couple and have such an amazing dynamic that have them both behaving in ways that sometimes are predictable but in others leave me reeling for days like ‘holy shit that actually fucking happened??’ and THAT, my friend, is the sign of a good writing partner. and that is exactly what you are to me, amongst many, many other things. <3 i love you so very much and while i know you’ve had a rough go of it lately, i wish you all the best with it, know that i’m here for you if you should need me for ABSOLUTELY anything you might need (whether it’s to talk/vent, write you silly drabbles, or draw you things), and know that you’ll always, always, ALWAYS have my support through whatever you’re going through. though part of me knows that you know that you don’t need it because you’re so fucking strong and capable of absolutely anything that you put your mind do.

i love you, boo. never forget that. please.

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

#emptyvictory #meme #ooc #there's still so much more that i wanted to say #so much more that i could say #but i'll spare you and the dash the rest of my gushing #ilysm rory and you've become such an important part of not only mercy's development and her life #but my own as well #and i adore you so much for it

1 note · View note

voidcat · 4 years

Text

Intrusion

– 2: smiles & chatter (wc: 2.6k)

prev ; next ; m.list

a/n: i just copy pasted from ao3 so all italic and bold texts are most likely gone, sorry

The impromptu concert and the walk you had afterwards do not conclude your interaction with Iwaizumi, much to your dismay. You were hoping the next day the lot of you would go back to your respective old routines of not knowing each other but alas, it seems he wasn’t just being polite when he said he wanted to be friends.

Here starts a brand new day: You enter the classroom and walk straight to your desk, not sparing anyone a look. Taking out whatever you need from your bag and placing them on your desk in your preferred order, you're startled by a harsh “good morning” you were never greeted with. Hell, have I ever been greeted by any of the classmates upon arrival like that? Already knowing the answer to that, you don’t bother turning towards the source of the voice to confirm it's him. Letting out a faint breath, you place your needed notebooks at last, make a move to the door, say a couple of greetings to few fellow classmates as you leave and seek out your friends for your morning routine.

By the time you come back, barely a minute before your teacher arrives, you take your seat, pleased to see he doesn’t attempt to start another one-sided conversation.

But it seems universe wants to prove you wrong, because every following morning he’s there before you arrive, sparing a good morning to your direction or asking how you are. You try to turn a blind eye, act sleepless or ignore him at first. Because, really, when did you ask for new friends, since when did you ask him for his friendship. As rude and stupid as this sounds, you're stubborn when pushed. Yet nothing lasts forever and you slowly fall into a rhythm before you can even notice.

On the rare occasion, you nod to show him you’ve heard him, baby steps. Day by day, this turns into a "Morning." back from you. Some days, you see his lips curl to your reply, giving your face a faint smile as well.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling of being watched during class. He examines you, you can tell that much. Perks of sitting one row behind yours, you suppose. You're not even bothered by this, you'd do the same if given the chance.

There’s one seat between you and the window and that happens to be the one he sits behind, has a nice view of the classroom and the outside. You find the seats by the window distracting as you find him.

Every morning goes the same, you drop your bag and take out your school materials, leave the class to meet with your friends, always making sure the morning gathering does not take place at your classroom, hurry back to class, hear Iwaizumi greet you and you greet him in return. Classes come and go, some little breaks too. Lunch break starts and here’s you grabbing your lunch as fast as you can, to meet with your friends in one of your usual spots, not allowing the boy to say anything else.

Alas everything has an end, what begins with you greeting him in the mornings splashes into lunch breaks. "Enjoy your lunch." It's almost a whisper but it's there. He just raises his hand in a thanking manner, a smile decorating his face as the sun beams on his face.

Iwaizumi Hajime intruded into your solitary moment of music and has not left since. In fact, his intrusion is not limited with your music, that you do not realize until it's too late.

Just like you don’t realize yourself getting used to his presence.

He enters your thoughts more often than you gave him credit for. You catch yourself mindlessly doodling him in class a few times, trying your best not to rip the page off your notebook. However upon seeing the way you drew his hair, you fall back into a pit of thoughts focusing on him again. It is a boring class; that should be the only explanation of you thinking about his hair of all things, instead of listening to your teacher. Is it natural, or does he style it in the mornings with some awfully smelling hair gel? You never spot a stinging scent though so it must be the former. Some days, the sun hits just right and makes it seem softer, making you want to ruffle his hair a little.

What Iwaizumi Hajime first notices about you is your calm demeanor. You don’t speak much in class, always avoid raising your hand, you don’t even speak to your classmates until you settle down your belongings. You hold short conversations with them, it’s obvious all your friends are from other classes. Unless there’s a class happening, it’s difficult to find you in the classroom.

He often hears you making little snarky comments during class as quiet as you can, usually to mock something said by a student or a teacher or just to criticize the topic.

At first glance you’ll seem the type to take notes during class but observation shows they’re silly doodles most of the time. Some days you’ll move your head, shake your legs or tap your fingers slightly to a melody playing in your head. The movements are vague but perks of sitting close to one another makes him notice you.

And for some reason, you like to cross the dress code. Half the time you show up with eyeliner on, somehow making it look to natural on you, he has no idea how though; you wear the pants that are normally a part of the boy’s uniform and magically make them seem trendy, compared to the boring look he has.

What else doesn't seem to escape his atteniton is how you’ve grown so eager to leave the classroom ever since he interrupted you that day. You always rush out as fast as you can as if there's a fire on your desk. You avoid conversing if it's not in the morning.

Steadily but surely, your hard stance begins to melt off. There's an increase within your replies, you no longer avoid eye contact nor are twitchy to leave his presence when you're talking.

He wanders to the music room few times after his practice, in the hopes of finding you. Yet he ends up empty handed.

His best friend whines about him making him wait by the gates, even though Iwaizumi had told him not to wait for him.

As days pass and Iwaizumi’s efforts never die out, you start to get back into the classroom a few minutes earlier, (im)patiently waiting for him to say something. Just so you can say something back, anything. Your pride doesn’t allow you to be the one to initiate the conversation and he must've realized that too because he begins to say random stuff to no one in particular, hums to some of your silent commentaries during class (to say you were embarrassed when you realized he had been hearing them all along, would be a huge understatement.)

A month since the piano incident has passed.

As soon as the last class of the day ends, he stands by your desk.

“Do you ever go out?” You would laugh at the serious look on his face, if it wasn’t for the question. He looks more like someone forced to make small talk with their nemesis than a high school student asking the other a very usual question.

“What do you mean? I did walk with you after school once, didn’t I?” You say raising your eyebrows, a little smile decorating your face.

He scoffs at you taking his question in a literal sense.

“I meant as in going out in your spare time with people, you know, like hanging out.” His face softens a bit as he talks, maybe it’s the lighting feinting you.

You slowly realize where this conversation is going yet you’re not sure if you want to avoid it or not.

“Well I am a human being craving human contact once in a while, of course I go out with people, hang out with friends and spend time with them.” You reply, attempting to sound… what? Playful? Cynical? Honestly, you have no idea at this point.

“Then, would you like to meet up this weekend if you’re available?”

“Why.” It’s not a question leaving your lips, but a harsh statement.

He detects the slight change of tone your voice.

“I don’t know, to spend time? I think I’ve made that clear already. Look,-“ You hear a little huff coming out of his mouth.

“-We can go to a place of your choosing at a time you can decide. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. But if you do, I have morning practices on weekends, so I have the rest of the day free. And honestly? You don’t strike me as the type to wake up before 11am on the weekends.” A playful tint flickers in his eyes.

You cross your brows and pout a little at his last sentence. You meet his gaze, and there it is. The light entering the classroom just had to hit him so nicely and compliment his face as if he's a statue in the Piazza della Signoria. He looks somewhat amused with a smile, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so relaxed before. It’s refreshing.

Upon realizing what just crossed your mind, your pout starts to morph into a scowl. At last you let out a frustrated breath. “Okay fine, sure. I’ve got to ask to make sure we don’t have any last minute family plans but yes, I’d like to meet up this weekend.”

You don’t notice the way you copy his smile and breezy air as you answer. It’s just the two of you in the classroom, smiling at one another in a complete silence.

“So, where to today? Any plans of spending time in the music room or...?” His words trail off.

“Nothing else to do here, I’ll just leave now.”

“Would you like me to walk you to the gates?”

Another thing you notice about Iwaizumi Hajime is that he never gives up. And frankly, you don’t want him to.

“Yes, I’d like that.” You give him a small smile. “Who knows what dangers I may encounter on my way out without a mighty knight to accompany me?” You elbow him by the arm as you speak. You two grab your bags and leave the sunlit classroom behind. The light seems to die out as you two walk away.

Wind blows past your friend’s hair and hits you in the face, causing you to jolt awake, breaking out of your trance. Your friend gives you a side glance as the others keep talking, their words fell deaf to your ears.

“Hey. Where was that café you, Ayame and Koto went to recently?”

Okemia, the friend you just interrupted, gives you a look. “It’s right around the corner of Koto’s favorite coffee shop. Why would you ask?”

You just shrug. “I was planning on going there this weekend and I haven’t forgotten the way you guys talked about the desserts they had.” Her eyes beam at the mention of the desserts. She claps her hands in excitement. “You should DEFINITELY ask them the cake of the day! They bake fresh cakes every day and serve slices. Even the cream and fillings were all handmade!”

“Their macaroons are nice to have with coffee too.” Koto adds as Okemia opens her phone gallery to show you photos of the said baked goods. She stops mid air.

"Wait, I thought you preferred calmer, hidden places to go by yourself." A gasp follows. "Are you going with someone that is not us?" She has her empty hand over your head now, making a dramatic pose, looking like a kid at a silly school play rehersal. All you can do is roll your eyes. "I'll meet with someone from my class, I am not leaving you guys, don't worry."

"Oh the betrayal! How quickly you've replaced us right after that traitor." Everyone in the circle starts to laugh at this point.

"You are mistaken. Is' betrayal goes far back before the class rearrangement." Etsuko joins in on the conversation. Eyes closed, heads nodding, with your faces as if you're all humming in sync.

"On my defense; my shitty twin was a traitor long ago and you guys were sent into classes in pairs. I've got no one." Your voice tones down as you say the last sentence. Feeling something warm around your shoulders you look up to see Koto wrapping an arm around you and resting her head. You lean to her direction in response, feeling better now. You have never missed your former deskmate this much up until now.

"Anyway! Cakes!" Okemia speaks loudly and so you all fall back into a calming chatter of giggles and which baked goods are better.

First thing you do upon entering the classroom is to approach Iwaizumi. “Okay so I have a café in mind that we can go to. It’s in the main square so we can just meet there.” Your words met with a nod.

“What time should we meet?” Curling your lips at that, you divert your gaze to the trees outside. The leaves barely move, standing oh so still on the light blue canvas.

“Maybe we can exchange numbers. I can text you when I leave practice and even if you haven’t woken up by then, you’ll definitely wake up at that.” He has this little smile on his face again, painted by the sun, shining so brightly.

“Yeah, that should provide enough time for me. I-“ Pausing abruptly you reach out your hand to him, met with another one of his confused expressions, you just roll your eyes again.

“Give me your phone, I’ll add my contact info. No need to get suspicious.” Cracking a smile at your last word, you save your name under your full name and hand the device back to him. “You can just text me that day, I will know it’s you.” Hearing the door close, the both of you see your teacher and before he can say anything, you go back to your desk.

Another day comes to an end, he asks again to escort you to the gates, at which you playfully refuse this time. Walking to the choir rehersal you think about the last few weeks you've had.

Iwaizumi Hajime intruded into your life one day on a coincidence, saw you at a vulnerable moment of solitude and hasn’t left still.

He has started to linger around more and more, enter your thoughts more and more and you cannot find it in yourself to get mad at this. The feeling is unusual, new and equally scary, yet the excitement it gives makes you ache for more.

You want to thank him, really. You haven’t given much thought to it at first but ever since that day, it seems your hands have been warm. Your playing has improved in your eyes, you can feel yourself becoming a vessel for the pieces you play. Feeling the melody flow through your body, hearing all the hidden stories in them, watching all the ballroom dances made to them.

It’s hard to turn a blind eye to the idea starting to slowly form in your hand. It cannot be a coincidence. it’s as if, ever since Iwaizumi entered your life, the coldness of your hands has left your body, leaving you with a caressing warmth in its absence.

You make a mental note to thank him for that one day as you walk.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!! x reader #iwa x reader #iwa x you #haikyuu fanfiction #slowburn #intrusion #im lazy to tag so ye

13 notes · View notes

sailorportia · 5 years

Text

Femslash February 2020, Day 2

Fandom: Little Witch Academia Pairing: Diana Cavendish/Akko Kagari Prompt: Pining

approx. 1,700 words, rated T

also available on AO3

Summary: Diana Cavendish is not *pining*, nor is she *yearning* or *mooning.* She simply wants to spend more time with her *friend* Akko. Is that too much to ask?

Tags: Pining, Fluff

It had been a day and a half since Diana had last spoken to Akko. Precisely speaking, it had been thirty-six hours and thirty-four minutes—Diana had been diligent in noting the time at which she had apprehended Akko attempting to steal from the school's pantry yet again. They had exchanged greetings since then, but that hardly counted as a proper conversation. She did the same with teachers. She wanted to talk to Akko.

Diana fiddled with the food on her plate as she gazed across the length of the cafeteria to Akko's table. The energetic girl was shovelling food into her mouth, occasionally stopping to speak animatedly with Lotte and Sucy with her mouth still full. It was shockingly impolite, utterly unbefitting of a student of Luna Nova Academy. So why then did Diana wish so desperately that she were the one Akko was speaking to?

Would it be peculiar if she walked over to Akko's table and struck up a conversation with her? She had no pretext for doing so. It would be rude to interrupt Akko when she was eating and already speaking with her other friends (though it would be nice if she were to do those activities separately). Diana didn't want to make a nuisance of herself, but she didn't want to wait until after classes or, Nine Olde Witches forbid, until tomorrow to talk to Akko...

"She's definitely pining," Hannah said.

"Like an evergreen," Barbara agreed.

Diana's fork scraped against her plate in an ear-grating screech. "Pardon?"

"We were talking about Avery," Hannah said. "She's totally yearning for Amanda."

"It's totally obvious," Barbara said. "The way she's mooning over that delinquent is almost as bad as Hannah."

"Hey! I do no such thing!"

Diana tuned out the sound of her roommate's squabbles to reflect on her own thoughts. She was not pining, nor was she yearning or mooning. That was ridiculous. Admittedly, she was fond of Akko, and her feelings bordered onto that of an infatuation, but whatever she felt for Akko was easily reined in and in no way affected her behaviour. She wasn't some lovesick fool, and she certainly wasn't pouting over not getting to talk to Akko as often as she'd like.

But if that were the case, then why had she been afraid that Hannah and Barbara were talking about her?

Diana pinched the bridge of her nose. She was being foolish. If she wanted Akko's attention, she would simply strike up a conversation with her. There was no point in lingering on those feelings and doing nothing about them.

She quickly finished her lunch and stood up from the table. "If you'll excuse me, girls, I have something I need to attend to." After making a quick detour to put her dirty dishes in their proper place, she made a beeline for the Red Team's table. As she approached, she could hear them talking.

"What do you mean we had homework for Magical Linguistics?" Akko shouted.

"Finnelan said it three times," Sucy said. "Looks like you're going to get detention again."

"Um, you can copy off mine," Lotte offered. "But this is the last time, okay?"

"Lotte! You're a life-saver!" Akko threw her arms around her bespectacled friend.

Diana, only two tables away from them, stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, almost jumping out of her throat. Tendrils of envy snaked around her body and squeezed tightly—just the way that Akko's arms never did.

She turned around and went back to her own table, hoping that Akko hadn't seen her aborted walk to her table. Hannah and Barbara seemed surprised that she had returned so soon, but one look at her troubled expression was enough to deter questioning.

In all her life Diana had never met anyone as openly affectionate as Akko. Hannah and Barbara were at times just as brazen, but only with each other. Akko was clingy with everyone. Everyone except Diana, it seemed.

As pitiful as she felt for admitting so, it bothered her. It wasn't as if the two of them weren't friends—Akko had insisted upon it. However, Akko still considered her a rival of sorts. Perhaps that explained the gulf between how she acted toward Diana and how she treated her other friends. Ordinarily Diana disliked those who had no regard for the personal space of others, but now she found herself wanting Akko to invade hers.

Akko could very well hug whomever she liked, but that didn't mean Diana didn't feel left out. She had to mentally berate herself after she caught herself keeping a mental tally of how many times she saw Akko hugging someone who wasn't her. Honestly, she ought to be ashamed of herself. She couldn't ask Akko that she be treated as special among her friends, but she found it agonizing that she was being set apart from the others.

She watched despondently as Akko left the cafeteria with her friends. The object of her affections turned around just inside the door and the two of them made eye contact. Akko flashed one of her adorable, goofy grins and waved. Diana looked away in embarrassment, as if she'd been caught doing something disreputable. By the time she recovered enough to look up again, Akko was gone, and she felt all the worse for it.

That settled it. Diana Cavendish was, indeed, pining.

Just because Diana acknowledged her own feelings and that she was, in fact, yearning for attention from Akko didn't mean she had any idea what to do about it. Would it seem needy of her if she asked Akko to spend more time with her? Would she be bothering her by asking for a hug? After all, surely Akko had a reason for never hugging her. Was it possible that the two of them weren't as close as Diana thought? The idea was unbearable.

Unsure of what to do, Diana limited herself to unproductive pining. She wanted to be closer to Akko, but the prospect of even physically closing the distance between them was daunting. She kept Akko at arm's length, even as she felt the pain of not being at her side as others were. On one occasion when her crush invited her to join them, Diana stiffly made an excuse to be elsewhere and cursed herself the second she was out of the room. Her feelings were making a complete fool out of her, and she didn't know what to do about it.

Diana hid in her room as much as possible, justifying her cowardice by catching up on some extra-curricular reading. After three days she had accumulated a stack of library books which she only dared to return under the cover of night, lest she unexpectedly run into Akko. She slipped over to the library just before curfew and placed the books on the desk where they belonged. When she turned around, she saw the library's only visitor sitting at one of the tables.

"Akko?" Her voice ratcheted up an octave. "What are you doing here so late?"

Akko grinned. "I'm doodling goatees and devil horns on the witches in the textbooks."

Diana blinked. "I'm going to get Professor Finnelan."

"I'm kidding!" Akko yelped. "I was reading this doorstop about magical theory." She slapped the heavy tome. "I didn't understand something in today's assignment. Um, I still don't, but I'm trying!"

"How diligent of you." Diana felt a powerful urge to sit down with Akko and explain the topic in intimate detail, perhaps feigning exhaustion so she would have an excuse to rest her head on Akko's shoulder... Diana came to her senses. "Make sure you return to your dorm room before curfew." She turned to leave the library before her feelings got the better of her.

"Diana!" The shout was followed by the scraping of a chair against the floor.

"Akko, please. We're in a library. Could you keep your voice—" A pair of arms circled Diana's waist and she shrieked from sheer surprise.

"Keep your voice down," Akko murmured against her shoulder. "We're in a library."

Diana should've been offended that Akko of all people was telling her to be quiet, but her brain had stopped working. "Wh-why are you hugging me?"

"You looked sad! You've been moping for days!"

"I have not been 'moping', nor have I ever 'moped.'"

"Nuh-uh! You look miserable like someone stole your Magical History notes." Akko hugged her tighter. "Tell me what's wrong!"

How could Diana possibly verbalize her thoughts under these circumstances? Admitting her feelings, the source of her dismay, could have unpredictable consequences—she didn't know how Akko would receive them, given the distance Diana perceived between them. She settled on the simpler, incomplete truth. "Why haven't you hugged me before now?"

"Eh? Well, I noticed that you aren't really touchy-feely with anyone, not even Hannah and Barbara, and sometimes you get all wigged out when I get really close to you, so I figured you didn't like hugs." Akko paused. "Uh, should I let go?"

"Most certainly not."

"So that's how it is," Akko giggled. "You were jelly because I wasn't giving you any hugs!"

"I—that's not—" Diana was thankful that Akko couldn't see her face from this angle. "We need to return to our respective dorm rooms imminently."

"Awww, somebody's shy!" Akko gave her another squeeze. "Wait, I have to put my book away. Don't leave without me!" She let go of Diana to take care of her business.

Diana smoothed out her unruffled uniform and willed her face to cool down. By the time Akko made it over to her at the library's entrance, she had recovered her composure. "Shall we?"

"Let's shall!"

Akko walked unusually close to Diana as they made their way through the hallways. "Y'know, if you needed a hug, you could've just asked for one."

"I didn't need a hug." True enough; she wanted a hug, which was much more difficult for her to admit.

"Don't be silly. Everybody needs a hug sometimes. If you don't get enough skinship, your body gets depressed. That's science!" Akko reached over and grabbed Diana's hand. "If you need some love, don't hesitate to ask!"

Diana turned away so that her hair would shield her from view. She gave Akko's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll keep that in mind."

#little witch academia #lwa #diakko #diana cavendish #akko kagari #fanfiction #my fanfiction #yuri #girls love #femslash #femslash february #FauxGhostsFSF

142 notes · View notes

infini-tree · 4 years

Note

Character thingy: George and Harold?

give me a character and i’ll ramble about em!

| How I feel about this character:

before i first watched the movie way back when (and keep in mind this was my first exposure to cu as a whole), for some reason i had assumed one of the boys would be the Main main protagonist, but i’m glad that that wasn’t the case because i love their dynamic, their back-and-forths and the way they care about each other. i absolutely lose it every time i watch the scene where theyre put in seperate classes-- the way they reach to each other, the music-- makes my heart do a yell

AND special mention goes to george's saying things with confidence despite not knowing during the hypno ring scene because lmao thats me. also i feel for harold in that opening scene when the origin issue's been ripped up

i joke and kidded about how the heck haven’t i read this series before since, if i did, i would have immediately related to these two. i also made silly doodles and comics nonstop! i also had similarly difficult school experiences! there are probsbly more similarities past me could have related to but they escape me

| All the people I ship romantically with this character:

OOF i uh. really haven’t Thought about ships in relation to the boys, outside of what i learned about their future selves and also the ships i’ve seen while looking around the fandom but UHHH outside for the Future Book-Canon Stuff with george/lisa and harold/billy, gerald and gelvin bc the fancontent ive seen for it is cute

| My non-romantic OTP for this character:

ok ive already mentioned the found family/sidekicks thing with krupp and cu respectively so i won't mention it again. its been a while since i've watched the episode of tetocu where bo's introduced but i really liked the idea of a dynamic between the three of them as creatively inclined people

| My unpopular opinion about this character:

you know im at a loss for this point

| One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

give us the gay harold content dwa. if that one theory of how the final season of tetocu being set in the future is true and it doesn’t show billy i’m rioting

i would like to see george use the Tie! I WANT TO SEE IT IN AN AUDIOVISUAL MEDIUM!!! let him strike terror in the hearts of evildoers or a bully

#ask #sorry this isnt as specific to george and harold so much as it is abt them as a unit but. Late #(hopefully i got the future significant others' names right my memory's rusty on this stuff)

13 notes · View notes

flowiehowie · 6 years

Text

Maid Cafe Au

I am unaware if it was a thing before (Probably because these types of Au’s are pretty common) but after seeing @nobodyfamousposts attempts to ignore Animaestro created a Maid Cafe Au I thought it was a fun chance for fluff. So Here is part one of a i don’t know how many parts. And yes this is an excuse to get Marinette a bun and new friends.

Part 1 - A new prospect. Marinette liked to believe that she did well with managing her life's many responsibilities. Between school, helping out at her parents bakery, hanging out with her friends, fighting akuma, and her own interests and hobbies there wasn’t that much time in the day. She tried her best, however reluctantly, to not let herself slip in any of her duties. Yes, here or there she was late for an activity with her friends, or she might have dozed off during a lecture form Ms. Bustier, but all in all she managed it well.

Apparently not as well as she had thought.

Marinette was sitting in the back of the class staring out of the window lazily. Spring was around the corner and the cold weather was being chased away by longer days and warm weather. The morning was slightly nippy, but now in the afternoon the sun was shining and Marinette just wanted to curl up and take a nap.

Marinette let out a dreamy sigh before looking back at her notebook where she was doodling ideas for new outfit designs. Class was almost over and a half hour ago Ms. Bustier gave them worksheets to work on silently for the rest of the day. Marinette had finished hers about ten minutes ago and started thinking of new spring designs. She normally didn’t wear skirts, preferring jeans, but was thinking of maybe trying something new. It was spring after all, time for new beginnings. And she certainly needed one of those, so she doodled out various skirt designs.

She was fairly content until a loud laugh came from the front of the class. Marinette looked up and saw Alya leaning over her desk to talk to Lila, who was currently laughing obnoxiously in her, “Oh silly girl, I'm about to tell you why you are wrong,” way. Marinette scowled down at her, clenching her pencil as tight as she could. She couldn’t hear what little miss ‘pay attention to me’ was saying, but she knew it was some outlandish lie.

Marinette continued to scowl down and was tempted to march over there and yell at Lila, until she caught sight of Adrian next to her. The blonde model was currently sitting as far as he could from Lila and his polite smile seemed strange. As if sensing her, his eyes darted up and made contact with hers. Marinette felt all her anger vanish along with her breathe as his green eyes met hers, and his smile seemed more genuine and he gave a small wave. A blush crept up on Marinette's face and with a small smile she returned his wave. Adrien then reluctantly returned to the conversation with Alya and Lila, and Marinette turned back to her sketchbook, feeling a tad hollow inside.

She heard a small tapping on her desk, and looked over and saw her bag resting on the table and Tikki’s red round head sticking out of it with a with a comforting smile. The little Kwami mouthed words of comfort and Marinette gave her a thankful smile. Marinette always felt close to her Kwami, but the last few weeks the bond has strengthened. Tikki was the only one who was actively on her side when it came to Lila, and she felt like Marinette’s only true friend anymore. After blowing Tikki a kiss to let her know she was okay, Marinette turned back to her design and decided that she was going to make her skirt Tikki themed. It was spring after all, Tikki’s favorite season.

The last few minutes passed silently and soon class was dismissed. Marinette watched on solemnly as Alya packed up her things quickly and most of the class left fawning over Lila, not even sparing her a glance. Marinette gathered up her things silently, hating how she was becoming used to being alone. She stayed focus on gathering her things and didn’t notice when a certain boy came up behind her. A cheerful voice shocked her.

“Hey Marinette, do you need some help?”

Marinette stood up suddenly and spun around to face Adrien, only to find she spun too enthusiastically and almost fell over. With a bit of a shout Marinette found herself on one foot balancing carefully, Adrien looking concerned and having a hand out to catch her in case she fell. ‘Drat’, Marinette thought to herself as she flashed Adrien a smile both apologetic and sheepish, ‘,I should have fallen.’

“Oh, Adrien! Hi! Um- Hello! Yes- um. No, I don't want your help. Or- Ah! I mean I don't need your help! I would certainly want you-IT! It- Your help that is but I am already done packing and… hehe…” A violent flush came across her face as she looked down, eyes darting from the floor to Adrien back and forth. Adrien seemed surprised at first, but as usual seemed to ignore Marinettes stuttering and gave her a bright smile.

“Well in that case would you like me to walk you home? My bodyguard can trail behind us in the limo so it should be fine with my Father.”

Marinette must have fallen and died. That was the only explanation as to why she was now in Heaven. All bad thoughts of Lila were pushed aside as a large smile grew on her face. She nodded quickly. “Yes I would love you- THAT! That. I would love that! I mean not love. Psh who said love. Like It would be cool if we walked together. Yeah, cool. Like Me.” Marinette then tried to demonstrate how cool she felt by getting her bag strap caught on her chair as she tried to walk forward and the chairs toppled over her, causing her to squeak loudly.

After a short embarrassing moment of fixing the chair Marinette decided the best course of action would to slowly curl up on herself and die forever. Not being able to do that however, she gave Adrien an apology which he waved off, and the two began to walk down the steps, Adrien filling the silence by talking about the new game Ultra Mecha Strike iV was coming out and how they should play together. Marinette was slowly calming down and was going to risk attempting to agree that they should, when a voice stopped her.

“Marinette, actually, could you wait a second. I would like to talk to you about something.”

Marinette turned to see Ms. Bustier standing near her desk, looking towards Marinette. Marinette was confused but nodded and turned to apologize to Adrien. He waved her off once again and said he would wait for her outside the school. Marinette allowed herself a dreamy sigh and then turned back to her teacher, who was watching them both with a small smile.

“What did you need Miss Bustier?” Marinette asked curiously as she sat at the offered seat across the teachers desk. “Did I not turn in my Class Rep report? I could have sworn I did it yesterday?”

“No, Marinette, it's not that. I have your report and its very well done, as always,” Miss Bustier said kindly as she walked around the desk and leaned against it, causing Marinette to have a small smile. “No, I am afraid this is about your frequent tardiness and your occasional absences. Unfortunately, they have gotten to the point that they can’t be overlooked.”

Marinette straightened up, her face going concerned. She knew she cut it close here and there, but she had thought they were under control. “I’m so sorry Miss Bustier. I try really hard but it's just with my parents bakery and the akuma attacks and,” Miss Bustier raised a hand to stop Marinette and she smiled kindly at the young girl, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Listen I know you are busy. And I know how hard you try Marinette. You always keep your grades up and keep a positive attitude around class which is why I typically overlook it, but Principle Damocles is worried about your record for tardiness and your commitment to your education. “ Bustier leaned back and crossed her arms loosely, keeping her voice calm and soothing so as to not upset Marinette.

“I have assured him multiple times that you are one of our best and brightest, but he is still concerned as to how it looks on paper to the board. He wanted disciplinary measures, but I offered another idea that he is agreeable to.”

Marinette looked on with concern and confusion, her hands clenched as Miss Bustier reached back and grabbed something off her desk as she continued to talk. “As you may be aware we allow our upper class students to use school expenses to undergo certain projects. Usually such ventures are reserved for those about to leave Lycee, but some exceptions get made for special students. Such as Mr. Felix Alium.”

Marinette raised her eyebrow, a bit confused as to what this all had to do with her punishment and absences. “Who is Felix?” Marinette asked instead, assuming Miss Bustier would get to the point eventually.

“Felix is a student a year above you, and he is exceptionally bright. Top of all his classes, and is already being looked at by several private Lycee’s. Despite his young age he is already adamant that his future will be business minded. After several meetings with the board and with Mr. Damocles, it has been decided that under teacher supervision Felix will be put in charge of a small business venture courtesy of the school. We will be opening a small cafe which will be mostly student run. It will be funded by the school and will run the entirety of Spring break, and possibly after. The school will only be in charge on a high managerial level, the venture however is entirely Felix’s. It will go to extra credit and will look quite good on any application.” Miss Bustier finally offered Marinette the envelope she grabbed off her desk, and Marinette curiously opened it.

“Now it will have students working the cafe, with Felix serving as Manager. He has scouted out those he wanted to take along the venture with our approval. He has expressed interest in having you involved, however I was hesitant at first with your track record. However it has been decided by Mr. Damocles and I. Either you work on this project with Felix, or you take extra classes throughout spring break. The choice is between you and your parents, who we have already notified.”

Marinette’s head was spinning with all this information. She numbly thumbed through the folder, seeing various essays and plans for this supposed Cafe. Apparently it wouldn't be just a normal cafe, but something called a ‘Maid’ cafe. It seemed to cater to young teenagers and cosplayers, and it seemed this Felix fellow was pushing to have a day all in honor of the Cities heroes; Ladybug and Chat Noir. Not out of respect or admiration it seemed, but because it would bring in the most money if his essays were anything to go by.

This Felix seemed very smart and business minded. He seemed to have everything already planned, and on list of potential workers her name was written in his supposed very neat handwriting. Which brought up another thing: why her? She doesn't know who this Felix was. Never even heard his name before. How did he know hers? She relayed this to Miss Bustier, who smiled in returned.

“You may not have noticed Marinette, but you have been making quite a name for yourself. You are the child of two very successful bakers, and you have designed for Jagged stone and won a contest judged by Gabriel Agreste himself. Like Felix you are very exceptional, and I think it's wise on his part to wish to include you.”

Marinette couldn’t help the blush that crept on her face and she looked down at her face. She had a pleased smile on her lips, though. She was never one to brag, and never tried to, but the fact that people have noticed all those accomplishments filled her with pride. She vaguely knew they were big deals, but to have them laid out like that to her made Marinette felt like she was doing something right.

“Listen Marinette, If you do decide to go into this project, know you must fully commit. Felix will be giving reviews of all the students helping. If yours is not to our liking Mr. Damocles may see fit to exercise further punishments. So think carefully about this, and talk with your parents about it. I will need an answer by the end of the week okay?”

Marinette nodded and she stood up, still flipping through the envelope. The more she read about this the more intrigued she was. She said goodbye to Miss Bustier and thanked her for all her kind words and for understanding how busy she could be. As Marinette walked out of the doors to the school, she looked around for Adrien, but frowned when she saw Lila and Chloe were both pawing all over him. He looked very uncomfortable and Marinette felt a familiar anger burn in her stomach.

Before she could act however, Adrien looked up and saw her. He gave her an apologetic shrug, and tried to get the two off him. Before he could however his Bodyguard seemed fed up and personally walked over and pulled Adrien into the Limo. Adrien managed to wave at marinette sadly before the Limo pulled away. Marinette waved gently, the anger turning hollow again as she sighed.

“Marinette…?” A concerned voice came from her bag and Marinette looked down to see Tikki looking at her concerned.

“I’m fine Tikki. I’m used to it.” Marinette sighed, and shot the kwami her best smile, before she began to walk home. Her mind filled with liars and crushes and most prominently; a mysterious boy and his Maid Cafe.

#miraculous ladybug #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #Ladybug #ml felix #adrien agreste #lila #chameleon divergance #marinette deserves better #Adrien is a pushover #He isn't a bad guy but he has no backbone #Maid Cafe Au #ml fanfic

424 notes · View notes

thisgirlsays22 · 6 years

Text

Intro to Data Science (Chapter 2)

Rating: E

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin

Pairing(s): Eren Yeager/ Levi

Chapter Word Count: 4.5K

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, (British) Professor Levi, (American) Student Eren, Long Distance

Summary:

“You’re probably just into him for the accent.”

“It’s not that,” Eren argued. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so much more than that.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Notes:

For my lovely @fluffymusketeer who somehow manages to put me in a good mood even when the day looks bleak at first.

And a big thank you to @attraversiamo19 for being a fantastic beta and to @dreamxxdream for being a fantastic test reader.

Also check out this lovely fanart from @renriva (Mira, you are amazing Y_Y)

Read on Ao3 or under the cut. Edit: Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Monday morning, when Levi nodded at him as he walked through the door of the lecture hall, Eren felt all the tension go out of his shoulders. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up over his failed attempt to ask Levi out. Eren didn’t crush often, but when he did, it was intense and entirely too much.

He couldn’t concentrate during class because of the fucking cadence of Levi’s beautiful, deep voice as he explained the difference between supervised and unsupervised machine learning. He tried to copy down the notes from the slides on the screen at the front of the room, but kept drawing little doodles in the margins instead, wondering what was I thinking? That Levi would agree to go...platonically? That they’d strike up a friendship and eventually something more? God, he was embarrassed. He’d thought he’d picked up some sort of vibe between them, and maybe he had, but Levi was too noble to act on it.

“I can’t get him out of my head,” he complained to Mikasa that night. His desk was covered in junk food and dirty shirts, so he was curled up in his uncomfortable single-bed with his laptop, whining to his sister about his hopeless crush. He had dreamed his life in London would be glamorous, but here he was.

“You’re probably just into him for the accent.”

“It’s not that,” Eren argued. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so much more than that.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

He should have just called her instead of video chatting. It would be easier to ignore her derision that way. “God, he’s so fucking smart and kind of mean sometimes, but then he’ll turn around and give you helpful advice. I mean he’s only thirty-four and he’s had this amazing career already.”

“If you start talking to me about data, I’m ending this call,” Mikasa warned.

Eren ignored her. “The way he teaches is incredible. He makes such sarcastic comments about what we’re learning, but then if you ask a question, he really takes the time to understand it and give you a good answer. He once made a shit joke to explain a concept about correlation versus causation.” Eren paused to sigh dreamily. “Plus, he likes to read good books. And he shares all these funny posts about cats, like you wouldn’t expect it from him.”

“Wait...what? How do you know that?”

Realising he’d slipped up, Eren froze. “...I may have found his Facebook.”

Mikasa groaned and covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed for you, oh my god.”

“I had to find out if he was straight or not!”

She groaned again. “Eren, don’t do this. I can hear it in your voice. I know how reckless you can be, but come on.”

“It’s just a fun crush,” he defended. “A fun, silly crush.” He left out the part where he’d already tried to ask Levi out on a date.

“Yes. A fantasy.” Mikasa crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look.

“Shut up, Mikasa.”

“I was just agreeing with you!”

“Yeah, but in your I-know-better-than-you way.”

“You know I’m just looking out for you. You get your heart broken so easily.”

“I almost never like anyone!”

“Yeah, but when you do, your heart gets broken like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“Whatever, fine.” He rolled over on his side and stuffed a pillow under his head.

“Eren...what aren’t you telling me?”

“What?”

“You have that guilty look on your face. Like in the picture.” Mikasa took every available opportunity to reference The Picture. A photo taken when Eren was a toddler where he wore a guilty expression as he hid in their playhouse to have a private shit.

“I am not making the guilty poop-face!”

“You are!”

He flung the pillow over his face and spoke into it.

“Try again without the pillow.”

“You don’t have to worry about him breaking my heart because I already asked him out and he turned me down. Which he definitely should have. He’s being a responsible, respectable adult, which only makes me like him more.”

“Eren!”

“I know, I know.”

“Oh my god...What kind of date did you ask him on?” Mikasa leaned closer to the camera, looking exasperated but intrigued.

Eren pulled at one of the seams on his pillow. “Philip Pullman is giving a talk about his new book, and I asked him to go.”

Her face softened. “That’s actually cute. You’re still an impulsive moron, but a sweet one.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said and then tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. “So how’s mom?”

“You know her. Working hard as ever. She finally agreed to let me start covering the groceries since I’m running more sessions at the gym.”

“Wait. Mom agreed to let you help contribute?”

“Yes.”

“As in our mother? Carla Jaeger?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure this wasn’t an Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation?”

“Haven’t checked yet, but I’ll get back to you.”

“Shit. That’s amazing, Mikasa. Good job.”

She took a little bow, hair falling in front of the camera. “Yes, thank you. Now I just have to convince Zeke to stop leeching off of mom.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“He was only supposed to be here for a month, and it’s been three.”

“Well, Mikasa, it’s really hard to find another pyramid scheme to latch onto. These opportunities don’t just fall from the sky.”

“I swear to god if he ever tries to sell me another vitamin again, I’m disowning him. I’m trying to convince him to just get a job with Connie at the bar until he figures things out.”

“Well, if anyone can, it’s you.”

“If he talks to you, can you mention it too? Couldn’t hurt.”

“Sure,” Eren said, not really meaning it. They hadn’t talked much since Eren had left for school nearly a year ago. Zeke had sent him a few obnoxious texts recently that consisted of, Pip pip cheerio, bro. Or Have you read my blog post on Paleo yet? All of which Eren had ignored.

“Okay, I have to run, I’m leading a yoga session in an hour, but I love you, and for what it’s worth, I think you should still go to the event.” Mikasa blew him a kiss and waved.

“Love you too, and I’ll think about it.”

They disconnected the call, and Eren got that same lonely feeling he always got after calling home to his family or friends. On top of that was the embarrassment about his crush. He had to accept he’d let himself get carried away and was projecting his feelings of loneliness onto this fantasy of Levi. ��

Eren took Mikasa’s advice and went to the Southbank Centre on Friday even though he hadn’t found anyone who wanted to go with him. His roommates hadn’t been interested: Ymir had called him a nerd, and Annie had just said, “No. Sounds boring.” At least Reiner and Bert had politely cited other plans as their reason for not going.

Whatever, they were all kind of assholes anyway. They only hung out with him because they all lived together, and rarely at that. So Eren had attempted to tame his wild hair, put on his nicest pair of black jeans and a button-down, and gone on his own.

Loneliness clouded his excitement for the night as he waited in line to get his signed copy of The Book of Dust from the little booth at the front of the centre. Everyone around him seemed to be here with someone, chatting happily, flipping through the new book together.

Eren got his copy and didn’t know what to do with himself. Distracted as he wandered around, admiring the large, glossy atrium, he did a double-take when someone caught his eye. Standing by the bar was a man Levi’s height with the same undercut.

The man turned so Eren could see him in profile. Holy fucking shit, Eren thought, maneuvering through the crowd as fast as he could, making strategic use of his broad shoulders to get people out of his way.

“Levi?”

Levi leaned against the front of the bar, looking unsurprised. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He’d spent the whole week trying not to think about Levi, trying to laugh off the rejection and the hopelessness of his crush, but Levi was standing in front of him. He’d actually come.

“I wanted to see the lecture.”

“Oh. Do...do you want to sit together?” Eren asked.

“Not really.”

Eren was knocked further off-balance, unsure if Levi was joking or not. He tried to remain collected as he said, “I thought you were supposed to be polite.”

“I’m polite,” Levi protested flatly.

“No, you’re confusing.”

A funny look crossed Levi’s face, which Eren couldn’t decipher.

The bartender came back with Levi’s drink, a plastic cup full of wine, but before Levi paid, he said, “He’ll have a...what do you drink, Eren?”

Too flustered to think of the names to any drinks, Eren said, “What you’re having looks good.” If Levi was buying him a drink, maybe he had been joking.

“Another red wine, please,” Levi said.

Eren didn’t know what to talk about next. Levi looked so handsome in his dark blazer and jeans, and Eren’s heart wouldn’t stop doing nervous somersaults.

If he’d known Levi was going to be here, he could have mentally prepared some dazzling stories, some intriguing ice-breakers, intelligent questions, but here he was standing in front of Levi awkwardly without a clue what to say.

Fun crush, he reminded himself. Silly, fun crush. Just a fantasy.

“You don’t want to sit with me, but you’re buying me a drink?” Eren asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, breezy.

“You’re a broke student. Like I said, I’m being polite.” Levi paid for the drinks and Eren followed him to one of the empty tables around the corner. For such a bustling place, there were a surprising number of cozy places to sit.

Eren looked around for anyone he recognised from class and was relieved when no one materialised. He wondered if Levi was doing the same. Fuck it, anyway. There wasn’t any rule that they couldn’t socialise if they ran into each other in public.

“Have you been here before?” Levi asked once they were seated, facing one another at a low table by the window. Finally out of winter’s grasp, the sun was still hanging low in the sky, casting the Thames in an orange hue.

“I came to an art exhibit here once,” Eren said, “but never to an event like this. It’s weird they serve you the drinks in plastic cups. I thought it would be classier.” The plastic cup made Eren feel like he was back in the college dorms again. Not bad, just out of place here.

Levi crossed his ankle over his leg, and Eren tracked the graceful movement with his eyes. “You can bring them into the theatre,” Levi said.

“True. Do you come here often, then?” As the words left his lips, Eren cringed.

“Did you really just ask me if I come here often?” Levi asked, bemused.

“That did sound really cheesy,” Eren admitted. “But it’s a genuine question.”

“I don’t come here often,” Levi said. “But I’d like to. Most of my friends have moved out of the city, though.”

I’d go with you. In his mind’s-eye, it played out like fast-forwarding a movie. Levi would wear the same black blazer that brought out the grey in his eyes; afterwards they’d have dinner overlooking the Thames, discussing whatever show they’d seen, and then Levi would take him home and--Eren shook himself out of his spiraling thoughts.

Their knees brushed under the table, and Levi didn’t pull away.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” Eren said, voice low.

Levi frowned and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Eren...Just because I’m here doesn’t mean--”

“I know. I’m still glad, though.”

When Eren met Levi’s eyes, he felt it: a current of electricity running between them. He wasn’t always the best at reading other people, but he was good at identifying that spark of interest, the heat that a single look could carry. The way Levi’s heavy-lidded eyes considered him made Eren’s breath hitch. Did Levi want to be convinced? If he did, Eren feared he would only fuck it up.

Levi cleared his throat and stood. “I need the loo. And we should head in soon.”

“Wait,” Eren said, turning around in his chair. “So we are sitting together then?”

“I never said that.”

“I can’t tell if we’re joking anymore,” Eren said.

“Fine.” Levi waved a hand. “I suppose you can sit with me. But you better bloody well not talk during it. I can’t stand that rude shit.”

Eren nodded, amused by the severity and specificity of the request. “You have yourself a deal.”

He watched Levi walk away, and then leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself.

They chose seats at the front of the rear stalls, so there was no one sat in front of them and they had a wooden ledge to rest their arms and drinks upon. Every time their shoulders touched as Eren sat back in his chair, he lost track of what was being said on stage.

When the interview ended, Eren didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay still and feel Levi’s arm pressed against his, to smell the smoky scent of his cologne that made Eren light-headed with desire. Even though the urge to rest his head on Levi’s shoulder or to thread their fingers together was almost too much to bear, he would have chosen to relive that hour over and over if he could.

Afterwards, Eren waited for Levi to excuse himself, to call it a night, but he seemed content to keep walking side by side as they left the building together. Eren thought, if I just keep thinking of interesting things to say, he won’t go.

“You up for a walk along the river?” Eren tried.

Levi considered this for a moment. So sure the answer would be no, Eren almost didn’t register the nod. “Yeah, alright. Not too cold for it.”

They strolled along the walkway above the water, the night air crisp and cool enough that Eren had put his sweatshirt on. The London Eye’s blue glow reflected on the water below, rotating so slowly above the city that it appeared still. Lights from restaurants, shops and flats on both sides of the river lit up the night, and Eren let himself imagine that there was nothing preventing this from being a real date, that they were just two people without a care in the world.

“I don’t know how I felt about the excerpt he read,” Eren said.

“Me neither.”

“I’m worried it’s going to be really boring,” Eren confessed. “The first ones were perfect. I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

For a moment, they were split apart, maneuvering around a group of tourists clustered together, watching a man waving a giant bubble wand. They exchanged an eye roll.

“I thought you said you hated the last book,” Levi said once they had reached a quieter part of the pathway.

“No, I said it destroyed me. I hated it, and I loved it.”

“What, because Lyra and Will don’t end up together?”

“Obviously. They were soul mates and they were trapped in separate universes.” Eren threw his arms open wide for dramatic effect.

Levi stopped walking and crossed his arms, face caught in the blue glow from the ferris wheel. “Soul mates? They were twelve.”

“What’s age got to do with it?”

“You’re right, nothing. It’s the concept of soul mates that’s bullshit.”

The opinion didn’t come as a surprise. In fact, Eren had been hoping for it; he enjoyed the sarcastic, scathing replies. He didn’t even know if the concept was something he believed in either, at least not for himself.

“Are you going to tell me statistically it’s improbable?” Eren gave him a sly smile.

“Yeah. I’m going to draw a fucking graph for you.”

“Come on. Tell me the ending didn’t make you cry,” Eren teased.

Before Levi could reply, Eren came to a sudden halt. “Shit! I left my book inside!”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s either still at your seat or they’ve brought it to the front.”

Relieved that Levi didn’t seem annoyed by his stupidity, Eren said, “I just hope no one took it.”

“You can have mine if they did.”

Levi said this so casually, as though he were offering a piece of gum, that it took a moment for it to register. “What? No, I couldn’t take yours.”

“I’m only here because you found the event. I can just buy another copy inside.”

“Well, let me go check for it.” He expected Levi to finally excuse himself, but he followed Eren back to the venue.

“I need a shit,” he said in answer to Eren’s questioning look as they walked through the entrance.

Eren was startled by the vulgarity of a line delivered in that lovely, clipped accent; he blinked at Levi before letting out a shocked laugh.

“Go get your book,” Levi said, heading to the bathroom.

One of the ushers who was helping close up the theatre let Eren back in, and his book was still underneath the chair where he’d left it. He felt immense relief that he hadn’t lost his momento of the night, something he’d carefully chosen while otherwise refusing to fill his transient life with clutter.

Even though Levi had given no indication he would be departing after said shit, Eren was still surprised to find him waiting, leaning against the wall outside of the theatre.

“I’m peckish,” Levi said, and Eren felt almost giddy with hope.

“Wahaca maybe?”

“Sure,” Levi said. “Something fast.”

He let Eren buy him two fish tacos and a margarita from the Wahaca food-truck outside. “You bought me the drink earlier,” Eren had insisted. They sat at one of the picnic tables out front, the smell of grilled meat filling the air. Levi ate his taco with a knife and fork, and Eren made fun of him.

“Funny, you’re taking the piss when you’ve got sauce on your face,” Levi said, flicking his judgemental gaze to Eren as he cut off another piece of taco.

Eren touched his chin. “Here?”

“No.”

He touched his forehead. “Here?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Spot on.”

Reaching for a napkin from the centre of the table, Eren said, “Thanks for going back with me. That was really nice of you.” He wiped the corners of his mouth then messily tucked back into his chicken burrito.

“It’s fine.” Levi didn’t look up from his food.

“You’re not great at accepting praise, are you?”

Levi’s fork was halfway to his mouth, and he paused to glare at Eren.

“Like when I tried to compliment your teaching or your career.”

“Maybe you’re bad at giving compliments. Thought about that?”

“You’re funny too,” Eren said, like it was a challenge.

Levi pointed at Eren with his fork. “That’s a better compliment.”

Eren finished up his food and stood. “I’m gonna get another margarita, you want one?”

“Go on then. But here,” Levi pulled his wallet out and handed over a twenty pound note.

“Thanks. I’ll keep the change.”

“Yeah. You can buy a new sweatshirt.”

“Hey! What’s wrong with my sweatshirt?” Eren looked down, dumbfounded, at his green hoodie. He’d gotten it from Abercrombie a couple years ago, but it was still in decent enough shape.

“What’s right with it?” Levi said.

“You know what? You keep the change. Buy a new attitude,” Eren said.

Levi burst out laughing, covering his eyes with his hand as if he were surprised it was happening.

Flirting with Levi got Eren’s heart racing in ways he hadn’t experienced since his first middle-school crushes. He’d had feelings for people since then, meaningful relationships, but they’d lacked the novelty and the thrill that he felt with Levi. A dangerous, unlikely possibility unfolding between them.

The whole night had a surreal, magical edge to it. Removing Levi from the context of university had deepend Eren’s crush. It wasn’t Levi as a professor he liked...it was Levi the person. Though he seemed tenser than he did while in front of the classroom, he retained the sharp sense of humor that had caught Eren’s attention from the very first lesson.

Walking back to the food truck, chuckling to himself as he jingled the change around in his hand, that’s when Eren understood. He liked that Levi was a challenge, that he didn’t readily accept compliments. He even liked that Levi insulted his sweatshirt. Underneath his barbs and impassive exterior was a sweetness, a gentleness, and that was the best part of all. Each time he’d talked to Levi he managed to chip away at Levi’s icy exterior just a bit more. Maybe soon he would uncover the sculpture underneath, a masterpiece.

All the things he’d told Mikasa had been true, except that this was a fun, silly crush. Eren could feel he was rapidly approaching the danger line where the fun and silly portion of the evening would end and he would only get hurt.

While he waited in line, he glanced back at Levi at the table a few times, half-expecting him to be gone, but Levi was still sitting there with his copy of The Book of Dust out, idly flipping through.

When he returned, Levi suggested they resume their walk.

“With our drinks?” Eren asked, equally surprised by Levi’s suggestion and the idea of walking around in public with alcohol in plain sight.

“It’s fine,” Levi said, amused.

“Sweet! I always just want to be sure. It’s illegal back home.”

“Your laws make no fucking sense.” Levi shook his head.

They cleared off the table and continued in the direction of the Eye, past the small market selling records and books and two stray street performers dressed as Yoda and a gold statue.

Eren halted. “Shit! I left my book back at the table.” He’d been so focussed on the moment that he lost track of the damn book again.

“Do we need to put that thing on a leash?”

“Yes!” Eren called over his shoulder and as he ran back to their table to retrieve his wayward text once again. Please don’t let him think I’m always like this, Eren thought.

“You sure you really want it?” Levi asked once Eren had returned. He was looking down at the river now, leaning forward on the stone wall along the edge of the walkway. Eren went to stand by his side.

“I do! I really should have gotten two actually. One for my mom,” Eren said regretfully as they resumed their walk once again. “I might just give her mine since I keep leaving it everywhere anyway.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one. They usually sell signed copies like those at Forbidden Planet.”

“What’s that?” Eren asked.

“They sell comics, merchandise, those sorts of things. They’ve got a decent collection of fantasy and sci-fi books. Bit nerdy, but fun. A friend of mine always makes me stop in there with them.” Levi smiled fondly.

“What do you usually buy?”

“Can’t say I’m too exciting. I tend to like the broadly popular work. Studio Ghibli films and the like. Walking Dead’s alright, I still keep up with the comics.”

Eren hid a smile. “I like some of that stuff. Like anything zombie sign me up, except I’ve given up on the Walking Dead.”

“Fair. I really should.”

“I’m actually kind of surprised you’re into all that.”

“Why?”

Because you seem so aloof and cool and anything that makes you seem more down-to-earth just makes me like you more. “I don’t know, I guess you come off as someone who wouldn’t have a lot of interest in that kind of stuff. Like you’re too cool for it.”

“You don’t know me very well at all,” Levi said. Was there--Eren’s heart stuttered--was there something flirty in the way Levi said that? It was something in the way he held Eren’s eye, the sly way the corner of his lip tugged up.

He was probably just imagining it. Eren rested his arms on the railing above the wall, trying to choose his next words carefully as he stared down at the patch of rocky-beach that was visible now, not yet swallowed up by the tide.

“I wouldn’t mind knowing you,” Eren said quietly, as though he were tossing the words to the river like a skipping stone.

Neither looked at the other. Eren’s grip on the rail tightened. Mikasa’s warning ran through his head again as he waited for Levi to speak. To say something, anything.

“Even if I wanted that too, you’re my student. It’s a bad idea.”

Eren’s heart went into overdrive, pounding against his rib cage like it was trying to escape. Their fingers were inches apart, resting on the guardrail and Eren let the wine and margaritas give him courage as he moved his hand towards Levi’s and placed it on top of his. The hard line of Levi’s profile was impassive, but he didn’t pull away.

Self-conscious, nervous thoughts slithered into Eren’s mind: why would Levi want him? He was just a dumb kid with nothing to offer.

But Eren was also reckless. He let moments overwhelm his better sense of judgement, his rationale, and would always choose to leap. Below, a river cruise ship trailed past, and a few people on the deck waved up at them. Eren tentatively lifted his hand to wave back, but instead of putting it back down on the rail, he took hold of Levi’s arm. Face still angled away from Eren, Levi’s jaw was tight.

Eren could feel the hard muscles of Levi’s bicep through the blazer, and he squeezed. Partially so Levi would look over at him and partially because he had no restraint.

Without a word, Levi gripped Eren’s waist, sending shivers through him at the touch as they locked eyes. Eren hesitantly bent forward to kiss him, expecting to be stopped, but was shocked when Levi’s hand twisted the front of his hoodie to pull Eren the rest of the way across.

They both tasted like tequila, but Eren wouldn’t have changed a thing. Running his fingers along the soft hairs of Levi’s undercut and woozy again from the smell of his cologne, Eren could have kissed him like this all night. Levi’s lips were soft and a little chapped, and he kissed Eren with such tenderness, hand pressed against the small of his back, that Eren thought he must be dreaming.

But Levi pulled away, taking a step back. The breeze blew his bangs in front of his face, obscuring his eyes. “I should go,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Eren was still reeling from the kiss, words not registering until Levi stepped back.

“Oh, okay,” Eren said, but Levi was already hurrying away. “Goodnight, then.”

#ereri #levieren #levi x eren #ereri fanfic #snk #aot #my writing #fic: intro to data science #levi you're already getting in too deep dude

330 notes · View notes

soldrawss · 6 years

Text

Shadows, Scars and Salted Lines

Annabeth liked being in control.

She liked planning, preparing, strategizing how to tackle every obstacle that dared cross her path. She liked the feeling she got when something she had worked so hard for went her way, like perfect dominoes falling into place. She liked how it gave her power, a certain freedom with limitations that she got to set for herself, and gave her sense of calm. Her center, the place where she was most comfortable, was knowing that nothing could ever get the best of her. Not again.

She was never going to be left unguarded, forced to drown in a dark and painful sea without a life preserver, not ever again.

So this feeling of freefall she was in? This awkward and unstable ground she'd been fumbling to stand on, was something jolting and foreign to Annabeth's entire system. She wasn't in control. Hadn't been for at least 3 weeks and she was desperately struggling to keep her head above water.

Because honestly, who could ever prepare for something like ghosts?

"Ok, so, just start from the beginning."

Annabeth sank into the offered seat slowly, the worn couch cushions conforming around her comfortably. There was a knitted blanket resting on the back frame, but in the warmly heated room, Annabeth couldn't imagine anyone ever having a need for it other than a bright way to decorate the already colorful room.

Leo had stayed crisscross apple sauced on the opposite couch next to hers. His attention was politely on her, interest flickered in his eyes and the small flashes of a comfortable grin he would send her, but his hands continued to work on the small radio from before, like they had a mind of their own, moving in practiced and confident motions even when his focus was on Annabeth.

Annabeth liked Leo. He was vibrant and warm and friendly in a chaotic and energetic way. Inviting you in with a sparked fire in his eyes and a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He wore a deep red sweatshirt that was at least three sizes too big for him, with the sleeves wrinkled and rolled to his elbows, and an old pair of blue jeans that were ripped and well worn. He had a head full of chocolate curls that, if not for the various bobby pins that Annabeth could only assume were placed there by Piper, would curl and cup around his eyes and cheeks. Dark brown eyes, playful and kind, would catch hers and if Annabeth dared to hold long enough, she'd almost swear there were flecks of gold that would catch in the light, like burning embers from a fire.

Annabeth also noticed the slight tints of pink against his brown exposed skin. Scarred and burned tissue running up his arms and legs like tattooed lightning strikes before disappearing under fabric, and despite the multiple colorful band-aids wrapped around his fingers, they looked old and well aged. Nothing raw, but instead healed over throughout the years, like it had been well over a decade since the scarring incident occurred. Annabeth did her best not to notice, but if her eyes did linger for a second too long, all Leo did was send her another glacier melting smile before continuing to tinker again.

Annabeth liked Piper too. She was laying beside Leo on the couch they shared, her legs comfortably strewn across his lap like second nature. A small notebook was in her hands and she was carefully going through it, chewing on the end of a pencil as she flipped through the pages, sometimes deciding to add a quick note or two before continuing to leaf through it. Or, judging by the small doodles Annabeth first noticed on the whiteboard to her left, Piper could have just been doodling Leo making various silly and overly animated faces. She wouldn't put it past Piper if it was the latter.

Piper felt like a breath of fresh air to Annabeth. She was stylish in a relaxed and easy way, wearing a simple, teal long sleeved shirt that fell off one of her shoulders and comfortable black leggings, with dark grey socks pulled up to her mid-calf. Her long, dark hair was braided into two loose strands that curled at the bottom next to her ribs. She wore a few rings and bracelets, as well several piercings in both her ears, but nothing that would stand out or call too much attention to herself. She was, without a doubt, beautiful, but not in a conventional Hollywood way.

She was kind and affectionate. You could tell that she was the kind of person that could befriend anyone just by how warmly and purposefully she would greet you. And she was fun and energetic in a different way than Leo, who seemed more explosive than conforming. She was the kind of fun that could fit anywhere, either out at a club, a formal event; or just at home on the couch. She had her own spark of mischief around her as well, something rebellious and wayward, but ultimately good and brave and fierce. Yeah, fierce was a good way to describe her. Fierce and compassionate, with a soothing and comfortable voice that you could just sink into and trust immediately. But she was protective about the things she cared about, and you were very lucky if you were one of those things.

She invited Annabeth into their space without a second thought, and Annabeth felt at ease whenever she sent those constantly changing eyes her way.

And lastly, there was Percy, who Annabeth definitely liked, but in an uneasy and nosedive kind of way that Annabeth didn't readily understand.

He sat in front of her, taking a seat on the space he had cleared off the coffee table and leaning forward so that his elbows were resting on his knees. He stared at Annabeth not unkindly, but with a sort of sparked intensity that she wasn't used to being on the receiving end of. Focused and acute. He was wearing a Guns and Roses band T-shirt, jeans, and navy blue converse that looked like they had seen better days. A leather necklace could be seen around his neck, but whatever was attached to the end of it was hidden inside his shirt, kept close to his chest. His tousled, wind-swept hair just barely covered the blue band-aid on his forehead as his sea green eyes pierced through strands of black.

For someone who could supposedly see ghosts, Percy didn't give off the dark, gloomy and emo vibe one would probably obtain from being able to see the dead. To Annabeth, he gave off more of a relaxed, easy going kinda vibe, with a laugh that was as contagious as it was charming. He was kind, judging from the way he treated Piper and Leo, who would tease just on the safe side of playful and endearing. And when he smiled at you, with that crooked and dorky grin, you felt like just about the most important person in the world. Like no matter what, he had your back.

Maybe that's why Annabeth felt uneasy around him. How easily she felt so comfortable with that smile and laugh and disheveled personality. How easily her walls and guard fell down in the presence of those piercing eyes directed her way. It shouldn't have been that easy, Annabeth had been burned too many times before by a similar smile that could charm birds out of trees. She knew better than to trust people so willingly and without fault.

And yet, here she was, sitting in from of him, all three of them, ready to divulge a secret only one other person knew. With a trust in them that she hadn't placed in another person in a long, long time.

"And don't worry about us believing you or not," Percy continued, hands folded together in front of him, attention trained solely on Annabeth as he gave her a soft smile. "Just, tell us everything the way it happened. Leave no details out, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem to be."

Annabeth nodded in understanding, rubbing her hands against her arms nervously. Because Annabeth still wasn't sure if she believed in the paranormal. But she did believe that whatever the case may be, these people weren't going to disregard her or turn her away so easily.

Which gave Annabeth all the courage and comfort she needed to proceed.

"I just moved to New York, like, two months ago," Annabeth started, her mind wandering to her memories of the summer move. "Into a little one bedroom apartment up in Queens. It's a little rundown and scrappy, but it was cheap and close to the cafe I work at part-time, ya know? So I settled. And for a while, it was actually pretty nice."

Annabeth remembered that first week she had moved, which was actually really hard and miserable. She had moved all by herself, with nothing but a couple hundred bucks in her back pocket, a mattress, and a half dozen boxes of books she'd sooner die than leave behind. She was transferring for her sophomore year of college into a new city, which thankfully wasn't too much of a financial hassle due to her great high school GPA and solid grades her freshman year. But it was scary enough being all by herself after pretty much leaving, (Annabeth refuses to call it running away), from everything and everyone she knew all the way on the other side of the country.

Annabeth had never been great at making new friends, so even with the prospect of being able to make at least one in a city as diverse and large as New York, she worried if this move had really been the best thing for her.

But if Annabeth was anything, she was stubborn to a fault, and not about to back down regardless of how lonely she felt.

And thank God, was she not lonely for long.

Jason says their friendship was nothing but good timing and coincidental happenstance, but Annabeth doesn't consider it as anything less than a miracle. Not only did he happen to be in the same Ancient History and Communication classes, but he also worked a part-time shift at the same cafe as Annabeth. This meant a lot of time, tired laughs, and coffee breaks shared between the two, which was lucky for Annabeth because Jason was great.

He was sweet and friendly in an infectious way, with a peacekeeping air and poise about him that just demanded respect. He was always polite, reputable, and sincere, which helped when dealing with tough customers because he knew how to diffuse a situation like a practiced (good) politician. A leader by default but who played the humble follower by choice, Jason was the dignified calm to Annabeth's less than held together impulsiveness, always so supportive and willing to help her with anything she needed.

Which was put to the test about a week and a half ago when Annabeth showed up at his doorstep one late stormy night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep as she raved about shadow people haunting her apartment. Instead of turning her away or telling her that she was simply having bad dreams, he pulled open the foldout couch and stayed up with her watching late night soap operas until she fell asleep. Annabeth stayed with Jason and his sister Thalia in their small apartment every night since, and they never once pushed for an explanation farther than Annabeth was willing to give them. They received her with open and ready arms, accepting her and taking her in like she had always been family, and honestly, Annabeth didn't know what she did to gain such loyal and good friends. She certainly didn't deserve them.

"I'm sensing a but here," Leo mumbled, a screwdriver hanging from his mouth as he reached for a few screws left on the coffee table that Percy hadn't moved out of the way.

Annabeth continued to rub her arms, looking away from Percy's gaze and at her boots, which were still damp from the rainy downpour that had plagued New York for the last couple of days. "I didn't think much of it at first. I heard a few knocks or scratches here and there, a few bangs every night, but I just chalked it up to old infrastructure. The weird flickering lights and the sudden drops in temperature were nothing more than a bit of faulty wiring."

Annabeth shrugged helplessly, giving Percy a tired smile. "My apartment building is old. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and there are a few holes in the drywall. I was just glad to have running water and a roof over my head for a reasonable price, you know? I didn't even think twice about those kinds of things.”

Percy nodded in understanding but said nothing, letting Annabeth shift uncomfortably in her seat as she went back to staring at the ground.

"But then things started to move. Not like, right before my eyes kinda move. At least, not at first. Small things here and there would just wind up somewhere else, in a different place than where I had left them. My keys would somehow wind up behind the couch. My wallet on the bathroom floor. A few things have even gone missing, and I thought, maybe. Maybe something's going on."

Annabeth stopped rubbing her arms to run a hand through her curled and knotted hair, sighing in exhaustion. "But even then I didn't think anything was out of the ordinary. I just moved! Into a new city and a new school and I'm starting a new life all by myself. My nerves are a bit fried and my stress levels are through the roof! It's a miracle I can even navigate the New York subway, let alone keep full track of where I misplace my keys. I'm just doing my best to get at least 5 hours of sleep at night, make it to classes and work, and eat a vegetable here and there."

Annabeth didn't mean to let her voice raise a bit in frustration, but she was just so, so tired. She spent more wasted energy trying to convince herself that nothing was wrong instead of actually dealing with the problem. This, however, was somewhat therapeutic as she let out a low and overdue sigh.

Leo continued to work on his radio, hands moving faster than Annabeth could think, but his eyes would flicker to her every once and awhile, just to let her know that he was still paying attention. Piper had stuck to one page of her notebook, writing down who knows what kind of notes since Annabeth had begun talking, but she'd flash a reassuring smile every time Annabeth paused, calming her nerves even if by only a fraction.

And Percy continued to sit in front of her, hardly moving as he focused on Annabeth. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, and Annabeth found herself trying to mimic it when she felt too close to having a nervous breakdown. His steady gaze and kind eyes comforted her enough to continue.

"But then I, I don't know, I think I started seeing things. A shadowy figure at the corner of my vision that would disappear when I tried to look at it again. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, ya know? Too many restless nights spent studying and being kept awake by the creaks and groans of an old building resting at night." Annabeth made another nervous attempt at a laugh, but found that it caught somewhere uncomfortable in her throat. She rested a hand on her left shoulder and gave herself a tiny, painful squeeze to center herself again. "But then I kept seeing it. In the kitchen, in the hallway, just out of reach every time I turned to get a good glimpse of it It would always return though. And it would just stand there. Watching me."

She took another shaky breath, before steeling herself for what would come next. "But then it... it got physical."

Annabeth slid off her jacket and could feel the once cozy room turn somewhat cold as she rolled up her t-shirt sleeve to reveal her left shoulder, which was covered in three, well-defined, deep scratch marks.

Percy's eyes were immediately on alert as they glued themselves to her shoulder, a concentrated frown carving itself into his features. Both Leo and Piper stopped what they were doing as they held their breath, waiting for Annabeth to continue. Leo's hands went white with how hard he was gripping his screwdriver.

"What happened?" was all Percy asked, calm for all the tense and chaotic energy that was rolling off him in dangerous plumes.

"It attacked me. While I was sleeping," Annabeth explained. Her grip on the jacket in her lap tightening. "I don't really know how to explain it. I was sleeping pretty soundly until I, I don't know, felt something watching me. And then there was this burning sensation on my shoulder. I woke up and saw this... this shadow thing just looming over my bed. I would have thought it was a nightmare if it hadn't reached out and yanked me out of my bed."

Annabeth shivered at the thought, shaking her head as if the motion would clear her mind of the memory of it. "I ran so fast out of my apartment, I don't think I even bothered to close the door. I ran down four flights of stairs, barefoot and in nothing but my pajamas until I got into my car and drove to a friend’s house. Haven't been back there since. That was over two weeks ago."

Annabeth rubbed her shoulder tenderly, feeling the grooves of the scratches and following them with her fingers. "I noticed the marks the day after it happened, but they still haven't gone away. They look and feel just as fresh as the day I got them." Percy's eyes followed her movements and Annabeth had to stop herself from throwing her jacket back on in an attempt to hide herself again.

"I can't live like this. I refuse to live like this. I already left my home once, I'm not about to do it again so soon. Not without a fight." Annabeth lifted her eyes and caught Percy's, holding his attention away from her shoulder, and pleading something unspoken into them. "But I don't even know where to start. That's why I need your guys’ help. And I'm not asking for much, just something that'll help things go back to normal. A charm or a bit of holy water is all I need."

A few beats of silence passed, Leo and Piper both looking at Percy for a sense of direction, before Percy stood up from his seat on the coffee table and brushed off his hands loudly. The clapping sound jolted everyone to attention.

"Holy water and charms won't be able to help you much. Not in the way you need them to," he said, walking over to the back of the couch Leo and Piper were sitting on and grabbing his jacket. He pulled out his phone from one of the pockets and scrolled through it in a matter of seconds, before closing it again and shoving it into his jean pocket. "Leo, you got any plans tonight?"

"If you're asking me on a date, you better treat me to dinner afterward." Leo smiled, putting down the radio and, after pushing Piper’s legs off not unkindly, shooting over to one of the many shelves and pulling out a duffle bag from one of the cubbies. "And if this is anywhere near poltergeist levels, then just know that cheap Chinese is not going to cut it."

"Woah, hold on, you're actually going tonight?" Piper said, sitting up in her seat, notebook now forgotten beside her. Sure enough, she had kept a good amount of notes of Annabeth's paranormal experience, as well as drew a few doodles of both Leo and Percy looking extremely dorky. "Percy, that isn't smart. Nico and Hazel won't be back till Tuesday, so it'll just be you and Leo. So no offense, but I don't like you guys going in without backup. Especially with a spirit that's already attacked someone."

"I take all the offense to that," Leo piped up from rummaging around in his duffle bag.

"Wait, what? You mean you’re going to my apartment yourselves?" Annabeth asked, surprised that they would even make the offer to take care of it personally. Annabeth didn't know that was an option, and immediately felt bad about it before Percy sent her a comforting wink.

"That's why you came here right? For help? Well, that's exactly what we're gonna do," Percy said, shifting his jacket on.

"I mean, we don't usually take house calls, but we've been known to make exceptions," Leo added, head somewhere hidden within his duffel bag.

"Percy, I'm all for taking this one on, but it's not safe. And it's already late and it's stormy out. Let's at least wait until tomorrow and do a bit of research before charging in there with all the grace of a rabid rhino," Piper argued, ignoring Leo and keeping her eyes solely trained on Percy, who gave her nothing but a confident shake of his head.

"It's not going to be any safer during the day Pipes, you know that. And two and a half weeks is long enough for Annabeth, I'm not going to make her wait any longer." Annabeth hoped her cheeks didn't turn a bright red when he turned towards her and gave her a quick shot of that crooked smile.

"Besides, Leo and I have done more with less, we'll be fine. Just keep Annabeth company here while we-"

"I'm coming with you," Annabeth interjected, standing up as well. All eyes turned on her when she spoke, and Percy shot her a worried brow.

"Annabeth, you don't have to," was all Percy got to say before Annabeth was already shrugging on her jacket, head shaking furiously.

"I came here cause I wanted to end this. I'm not going to continue to sit around and let this thing control my life any longer. I'm tired of being scared. I want to do something." Which was the truth. Annabeth had fully accepted the fact that this was her responsibility. Her problem to solve. As much as she was grateful for the extra help, Annabeth wasn't about to let them handle this by themselves.

Annabeth had spent too long pretending that nothing was wrong. She refused to be ignorant any longer. It was time for her to get back into control.

"I'm coming with you no matter what, so there's no point in arguing," Annabeth announced, and was surprised when Percy made no attempt to refuse her. Instead, he just shot her another crooked smile, more adventurous than the last one, and threw her one of the small backpacks he'd grabbed from the shelf.

Annabeth caught it, albeit a little haphazardly, and stared at him with a confused look as he grabbed one for himself and threw over his shoulders. "What's this for?" she asked, watching him walk over to where Leo was crouched on the floor. Percy knelt beside him and helped him pack a few things before Leo zipped it up and placed it on his shoulders.

"A Go-bag. Never go ghostbusting without one," Leo supplied, leaning over the couch frame and grabbing the still broken radio and shoving it into his duffle bag. "It's got all the essentials in it. A few snacks, a small med kit, flashlights, iron crowbars, holy water, salt bags, sage, and a few lighters cause ghosts like to screw with us and make sure our flashlights don't work. Banishing spells. The Bible-"

"We'll explain everything on the way over," Percy cut in, walking over to the fridge and throwing in a few cans of soda into his backpack. "You live in Queens, right? Should give us plenty of time to go over the basics. Can you also give Piper the address so she can look up some quick info for us on the property, just in case there's anything vital we should know."

"You're not coming with us?" Annabeth asked, turning her attention to Piper who was currently having a mental argument with Leo, as she sat up straight and reached for a laptop that had been stashed under the couch.

"Like I said before, I'm more of the club's manager," Piper answered, not turning her attention to Annabeth as she opening and turned on her laptop.

"Of sorts," Leo piped up before being caught off guard by the water bottle Percy had thrown at him while he wasn't looking.

"I don't really do the 'activity' part of the club. I stay behind and do research." Piper rolled her eyes at Leo, ignoring his feigned hurt as he complained to Percy rather loudly. "I make the websites and the posters. I advertise our club's abilities and look for supernatural cases for us to help out in. I research building information and history to give the boys any added edge to help them where they need it. Basically, I do all the work and they do all the heavy lifting."

"All the work, my ass," Leo interjected, pulling away from his bit with Percy to glare at Piper. "Percy and I do all the real work. You just sit there on your butt behind your computer all day."

"And I look great doing it too."

"Do you also see ghosts?" Annabeth asked, catching the water bottle Percy had thrown at her with ease, although to her credit, he had thrown it much less violently then he had at Leo. Leo sent a glare Percy's way at this, but Percy just shrugged in response, trying to stifle a shit-eating grin.

"Hardly," Leo said, unzipping his large duffle bag and pulling out a small camcorder that looked like it was going through a steampunk phase. "I'm the tech expert. I make sure all our gear is in check and working properly. Of course, often enough, the jerks just like to fry it, but that's why most of it's got these upgrades I added. I’d like to see Mr. Shadow Scratcher try and fry up this bad boy."

"Leo, you know better than anyone not to taunt spirits," Percy warned grabbing something Annabeth couldn't see from one of the bowls on the shelving units.

"I get electrocuted twice and suddenly I'm not allowed to trash talk anymore? What kind of world are we coming to?" Leo announced, pulling on his boots and walking over to a still very reluctant Piper and giving her a sloppy kiss on the top of her head. "Don't miss me too much, BQ. And make sure to order me some extra chili chicken wontons from Tang's. Percy's treat."

"I swear those things will kill you someday," Piper remarked coldly, but couldn't help the small smile that pressed on her lips when he just smiled at her in return.

"If wontons are the way I go, then that sounds like a life well lived to me. I'll load up the van," Leo patted Percy on the back before walking out the door, the cold hallway air entering the classroom for a split second before he closed the door again.

"Here's my address," Annabeth said, scribbling it down next to a doodle of Leo's face in Piper's notebook.

"You ready?" Percy asked, and Annabeth nodded in return as he gave a two-fingered salute to Piper.

"Call me when you get there, in case I find anything, please!" Piper called as Annabeth followed Percy out the door, giving her a waved goodbye. "Be safe! All three of you!"

And then Annabeth was back in the dark and damp hallway again. And a cold shiver ran up her spine just like last time. Except for this time, she wasn't alone.

"You sure, you want to do this?" Percy asked as he turned down the empty hallways with practiced ease, Annabeth right beside him. "You can just wait here for us. You don't have to force yourself to do anything."

"That's where you're wrong. I need to do this." Annabeth answered. She had spent a good portion of her life letting others control what should have been hers to deal with. She was tired of it. She moved to a new life where she could be the one to depend on herself again. She had already sorta failed in that aspect when this whole ghost situation started, but no more. She was done.

It was time to take back control of her life. Time to take back what was hers.

And Percy didn't have the slightest clue why she needed to do this, cause Annabeth wasn't about to divulge personal classified information about her past to him, but he nodded like that was all the convincing he needed. And Annabeth was silently glad he didn't push the subject farther.

"But, thank you, by the way." Annabeth supplied as they rounded another corner, her eyes keeping track on the ground below her in case any more rogue spiders decided to shoot out where she stepped. "You really didn't have to come with me. I would have been fine with just, like, some burned sage or something."

Percy smiled in that crooked, relaxed way of his, as he shouldered his backpack to a more comfortable position. "’Or something’ wouldn't have gotten rid of your ghost problem. Sure, the stuff helps, and it would have postponed any major activity, but that's not what you need." Percy's eyes quickly shifted to Annabeth’s left shoulder, and Annabeth could have sworn something dark and hurt passed through his eyes for merely half a second.

"No one deserves to go through what you did. You need peace of mind. Not just a solution to your problem, but your problem to be gone entirely. You're never gonna relax until you know that whatever is haunting your place is, well, not."

"And you guys can do that?" Annabeth asked as they came up to the large concrete staircase and began ascending its steps.

"Oh, we can do a lot more than that," Percy smiled, running a hand through his hair. A flash of blue caught Annabeth's eyes before his hair fell back into place again. "Like I said before, the small stuff helps. Piper's research gives us a start, and Leo certainly knows how to grab a ghost's attention in the worst kind of way."

Annabeth laughed at that as they reached the top of the staircase and she followed Percy as he took a back exit from the library, leading to a parking lot where Leo could be seen packing up a few things in the back of the small minivan. He waved through the rain, his hair bunched up around his face from his sweatshirt hood. Percy quickly rummaged through his backpack before pulling out an umbrella, holding it out over both him and Annabeth and giving her an encouraging smile.

"But when it comes to handling ghost problems, it helps to have someone who can actually talk with them."

#WHOO #FINALLY DONE #TOOK ME ALL FUCKING DAY JFC #Thank you to zack and ang who helped me edit #but also fuck you zack let me have my contractions #I hope you like it!#ghost hunter au #pjo #riordan #my fic #Shadows scars and salted lines

189 notes · View notes