#sitting in my car just enjoying a downpour and occasional thunder don’t mind me

[raychleadele]

BIG RAIN

😃

[solarune]

netflix and chill

(4) citrus: netflix and chill | series masterlist | prev - next

pairing: kim namjoon x reader genre: fluff, college au warnings: thunderstorm, joon and oc being too cute to handle, joon actually knows how to cook :o (this is what his apron looks like if anyone is curious), pov switch at the end word count: 1,532 summary: namjoon refuses to let you walk home when it’s thunderstorming so he suggests you stay the night at his apartment a/n: citrus is finally back!! apologies for the long hiatus, school kept me busy and i had a lot of other story ideas that i wanted to get out. i’ve missed citrus!joon and oc so much and i can’t wait to continue writing for them :’) hope y’all enjoy!!

“So what are you in the mood for tonight?”

You drag your eyes away from the article that you’re reading for your developmental psychology class in favor of looking over at Namjoon. He’s standing in the kitchen with a knife in hand and an apron that says “penne for your thoughts?” written on it and you can’t help but feel a bit warm inside at how domestic this feels. After many Friday nights spent at your apartment, the two of you agreed to alternate between yours and his place, with Chinese food being delivered to your place while Namjoon took it upon himself to cook for the both of you at his. And tonight, you’re at his apartment.

“What about that shrimp scampi recipe you were telling me about the other day? Do you have all of the ingredients that you need for it?” you suggest, face immediately lighting up when he confirms that he does in fact have everything he needs.

While Namjoon cooks, you continue to do your work, the both of you occasionally getting distracted by whatever random movie you chose to watch (right now, it’s Ocean’s Eight because “Joon, it has Rihanna in it, how could you not have seen it?”). It’s been a long day for both of you, with Namjoon having two exams and you having a presentation and five different meetings to attend. But while he was able to get his work done earlier in the day, you unfortunately still had research, resulting in you still doing work on a Friday night. The next time you look up, Namjoon is holding out a plate of pasta for you, the steam from his own plate causing his glasses to fog up slightly and you laugh while you take the food from him gratefully.

“Can you stop looking at your laptop already?” he asks exasperatedly, lifting a foot to close it when he doesn’t see you immediately reach forward to do it yourself. “You’ve been doing work the entire time you’ve been here! My apartment isn’t some glorified study lounge you know, I actually want to hang out with you like we’re supposed to.”

You sigh through a mouthful of pasta, the badassery of the women in Ocean’s Eight not enough to keep your mind off of all of the stress that you’ve been feeling lately. “I just feel like I’ve been falling behind recently so I’m trying to catch up. Plus I have like three exams in two weeks so not only do I need to catch up, but I need to get ahead so I can study without having to worry about everything else!”

Namjoon nudges your shoulder gently, the glasses on his face a bit askew as he smiles at you comfortingly. “You’ve done more than enough today, just relax, yeah? You’re not even gonna be able to catch up if you end up burning yourself out. Take it one day at a time, remember?”

You stare at your laptop longingly, thinking about all of the work that you’ll have to do in the next week, but you also know that your friend is right. You do deserve a break, if just for tonight; so you let Namjoon slide the device into its case and close up your backpack with a satisfied grin that he tries to hide behind his pasta. The two of you joke around and commentate during the entirety of your movie marathon but you know that you’ve chosen well when he’s actually quiet for an entire half hour during the Kingsman movies. Just as you’re getting ready to go home though, and while Namjoon is washing the dishes from the night, a clap of thunder makes you jump and the following sound of a downpour makes you groan in annoyance. Trudging over to the window, you groan even louder when you see just how hard it’s raining and the various lightning strikes that light up the night sky. 

“I’d offer to take you home but I let Jin borrow my car to go see one of his various booty calls,” the astronomy major says from behind you, and when you turn around to look at him, you see that he’s also staring out the window. “You can just stay here though, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk home in this storm.”

“Are you sure?” you ask worriedly, looking down at your outfit that consisted of jeans and a tighter-fitting t-shirt—comfortable during the day but not exactly something that you wanted to sleep in. “I don’t have any clothes or anything.”

Namjoon nods frantically, slowly going towards his room as he replies, “I can give you some clothes to wear. And I know I have an extra toothbrush somewhere.” He leaves before you even have the chance to reply, returning with his ‘you’re otter this world’ shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and a new toothbrush. He holds them out to you with a smile and moves out of the way to let you go to the bathroom and change.

When you come back, you can feel Namjoon blatantly staring at you, and you nervously tug at the hem of the shirt while your cheeks warm. “It’s really soft,” you mumble as you take a seat on the couch next to him, your eyes flicking up to the TV screen to find that he had chosen another movie. “You seriously picked a DC movie to watch? You’re really going to make me sit through this?” you ask him incredulously, returning his stare as you point at the TV. This has to be some kind of joke.

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure during what part of the movie he fell asleep but when he wakes up, he sees the credits rolling and you asleep beside him. There’s a loose strand of hair in front of your face and he has to resist the urge to fix it for you, getting up to turn off the TV instead. He clears away the bowls that the two of you used for ice cream, leaving them in the sink to be washed in the morning, and then makes his way over to you. He smiles down at your sleeping figure and gently places a hand on your shoulder to shake you awake while he calls out your name softly.

He can’t help but laugh when you wake up, confusion evident in your eyes as you first look at him and then at your surroundings. You tend to be confused whenever someone wakes you up (he’s done it a handful of times and has witnessed the after effects of Soonyoung doing it many times) and he finds it both amusing and endearing every single time. “We fell asleep,” he explains to you, and he wraps his hand around your wrist to pull you up. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed.”

“Don’ wanna get up,” you mumble, and he lets out a sigh when your head falls back to your shoulder to continue sleeping. You haven’t been getting enough sleep lately due to how stressed you’ve been so Namjoon can’t blame you for how tired you are. 

With another sigh, Namjoon picks you up bridal style with a grunt and heads towards his room, shaking his head at the fact that you don’t even question what he’s doing. “You’re not even the least bit concerned as to where I’m taking you?” he teases you, his heart rate speeding up when you nuzzle your face into his chest and he prays that you don’t hear or feel it. “I could be throwing you out the window right now for all you know.”

He chuckles as you shrug and mumble something incoherently, pulling the blanket on his bed back and putting you down before covering you with it. He turns the light off and is just about to walk out of the room when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist.

“Where’re you going?” you ask him, sleep-heavy eyes looking up at him in the darkness. 

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” Namjoon replies, pointing out towards the living room.

“No, this is your bed, you should sleep here,” you shake your head, tugging on his arm to get him closer to the bed. “I’m not getting up so you’re just gonna have to live with the fact that we’re sharing a bed but it’s only for one night.”

Namjoon hesitates, eyes going back and forth between you and the door. Would it be weird if he said yes? Your words imply that it wouldn’t be but he knows that he’ll probably be one step closer to falling in love with you at this point if he woke up beside you tomorrow morning.

“Kim Namjoon, I’m not going to ask you again,” you demand while your eyes slowly start to close, tugging at his arm once again. “Get in the damn bed and go to sleep.”

So Namjoon gets into bed beside you and whispers a ‘goodnight’ to you, not even mad at the fact that you’re on his side of the bed. He’ll take this moment, if only for one night.

[thatsthepan]

Heroes Don’t Always Wear Capes

Summary: Storms are scary enough as it is. But what’s scarier is waking up panicking in the middle of one.

Word Count: 1699

Warnings: fluff, a panic attack, feels, storms

Notes: It may be valentines day and although this fic isn’t exactly themed to match the holiday, it should be fluffy enough to suffice. It’s a little drabble fic I thought was cute to write when I couldn’t sleep, so I hope you all like it as well:)

This fic was edited by the hilarious and talented @doujinshidan; thanks Sage for dealing with my late night nonsense:P

As always, I love feedback more than I love myself, so ask away! And of course, enjoy:)

Dan

A clap of thunder, a flash of lightning, and my fairy lights shutting off were what startled me out of an already uncomfortable sleep. I sat up abruptly, too scared of the dark to reach for my phone—which made no sense, as my phone would have lit up the room. I counted off the minutes in my head to calm myself down, but I hadn’t reached one hundred before my door opened quietly.

A soft voice came from the doorway, surprisingly not sending waves of pain through my skull like the thunder had been doing all night.

“Hey, Dan? Power’s out.”

I made a small noise of acknowledgement, expecting Phil to shut the door and go back to bed. Any normal person would have. But he had always been well attuned to how I was feeling, and didn’t hesitate to walk over to my bed. Even though it was pitch black, the only light coming from the lightning flashing through the window, he didn’t stumble—he knew his way around my room.

“Are you okay?” Phil whispered, doing what I assumed was kneeling next to my bed. I reached out a hand from under my duvet, fumbling around and feeling my fingers brush against his shoulder until he lifted his hand to meet mine.

“Not really,” I managed to breathe, not really knowing what exactly was wrong but trusting Phil to sense that I wasn't okay. His other hand touched mine before gently pressing against my chest so he didn’t startle me. After a few moments, Phil stood, and I was worried he was going to leave before he sat on the edge of my bed, tapping my side with his hand.

“Scoot over.”

I did as he said, sucking in a breath at how cool his skin was against mine. I was sweating and hadn’t even realized it. Phil pulled the duvet down to my feet, leaving just the sheet covering me, and still held my hand steadily in his.

“Shh,” he whispered, smoothing his other hand over my hair, which was sticking to my forehead. “Everything’s okay, I promise. I’m here, so you can go to sleep. I’ll stay awake.”

I wanted to say something, to thank him for being the literal best friend anyone could have, but I couldn’t breathe very well. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back to sleep, but even Phil’s steady presence by my side couldn’t completely quell the tremors running through my body.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling tears prick at my eyes for a reason I didn’t care to find out. Phil shushed me again, gently kissing my knuckles and continuing to run a hand through my hair. I wanted the power to come back on, but it’d been long enough by now that I knew it wasn’t going to until morning.

After about five minutes of Phil trying to calm me down and me not calming down in the slightest, I knew the gears were turning in Phil’s brain as he tried to figure out what to do. These episodes happened often enough for Phil to know what it was, but not often enough for him to perfect a method of dealing with it.

“What do you want me to do?” he eventually asked, still staying quiet and calm, which I appreciated.

“Take me outside” were the first words out of my mouth, and I furrowed my eyebrows at myself, wondering why on earth that was what I wanted right now. But I couldn’t fight the intense urge to go out into the downpour, and as Phil pulled me to my feet, I wondered if I should tell him I was kidding so he didn’t have to go outside. But I was focused on steadying my breathing at the moment, and even when Phil put a jumper on and helped me do the same, I couldn’t convince myself to protest.

Before I knew it, we were sitting in the crevice by the entrance of the building, on one of the three steps that led to the door. We were shielded from the bulk of the rain, but not from all of it, and flecks of rain flew in to visit occasionally. I was shaking violently now, but more from the cold than from my panic attack at this point. Phil scooted closer to me, eventually wrapping his arms around me and hugging me to his chest.

We sat outside and watched the rain pummel the streets of London for about half an hour, the wind blowing sheets of water at us from time to time. The only sound was the rain hitting the pavement, and I took comfort in the smell of the city being washed clean and the feeling of Phil’s arms holding me still amidst all the chaos surrounding us. I matched my breathing to his, which was calm and steady even when the thunder cracked and the rain soaked through our clothes.

When we returned to the flat, I finally noticed just how soaked we had gotten, with my hair curling to an insane degree and the hems of Phil’s pajama pants making slapping noises against the tile.

“God, I’m sorry,” I couldn’t help but apologize as Phil fetched a couple of towels for us out of the laundry room cupboard.

“What for?” he asked, letting his pajama pants fall to his feet and swiping at his legs with a towel.

“Making you go out there with me and basically drown.”

Phil just smiled, helping me get my soaking wet jumper over my head and wrapping a towel around me. “I don’t mind it at all. A little water never hurt anyone.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Phil asked again, the corner of his lip twitching up in preparation for another smile.

“Saving me,” I managed to whisper.

The smile fully formed on his face, and I smiled back, nodding when he gently instructed me to take a shower first. I did as he said, robotically shampooing my hair and dressing in a t-shirt and boxers. I wasn’t cold anymore—a bit too warm, to be honest—and waited in Phil’s room for him to shower. I wasn’t quite sure why I didn’t return to my room, but Phil’s was so much more comforting that I didn’t think about it too much.

He didn’t seem surprised to see me sitting on his bed when he walked in either. He had changed his pajama pants, but hadn’t put a shirt on, so I wasn’t the only one that thought it was a bit warm. Sitting next to me, Phil didn’t say anything to break the silence, which I was grateful for. I was still a bit too shaky for my liking.

I jumped a bit when the room lit up, but it was just Phil’s phone. I watched as he clicked on Crossy Road, which he still played to this day, and leaned on his shoulder as he clicked the screen to begin.

“I still don’t know what you see in this game,” I mumbled, smiling when Phil chuckled quietly. I loved his laugh.

“It’s relaxing.”

“Oh, sure,” I rolled my eyes, but within minutes of watching Phil methodically click the screen and dodge the cars and lily pads and trains, I was asleep.

When I woke up, I was cool and much calmer than I had been the night before. I didn’t know if it was the smell of Phil’s room, which was light and comforting, or Phil himself, who had let me have the majority of his bed to myself. I rolled over, expecting him to be next to me, but found the bed empty. I got up, not wanting to be alone, and found Phil busying himself cooking pancakes in the kitchen.

He didn’t see me at first, which I was okay with. It gave me an opportunity to study how someone could be so chipper in the morning. He was humming as he cooked, methodically mixing and pouring the batter, patiently waiting, flipping the pancakes, and shuffling them onto a plate. As he continued, he gradually accumulated quite a stack that rose high above the plate. Phil eventually looked over his shoulder, seeming to have sensed my presence since I hadn’t moved much.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. Your breakfast is almost done.”

I walked up to stand next to him, helping in whatever little ways he’d let me. Holding the plate, passing the sugar, moving his fringe out of his eyes—the simplest little things, but it made me happy to help however he wanted me to. For someone who did so much for me, Phil would hardly ever let me do anything for him.

Both of us chose to sit at the table for breakfast today, watching the downpour continue outside. The lightning and thunder seemed to have relented a bit for now, but the rain was falling as strong as ever.

“How’re you feeling this morning?” Phil asked around a mouthful of pancake, his tone still gentle in the light of day.

“Better, thanks to you,” I smiled when Phil’s eyebrows went up briefly, surprised by my direct answer.

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you feel better.” Despite his smile, I could tell that Phil didn’t want to take responsibility for making me feel better. He never wanted to admit that he was the reason I wasn’t in the hospital every other day, because it forced him to be a sort of hero. And he was, in my eyes. I had always thought that the saying “heroes really don't always wear capes” was cliché, but it was true.

“I love you.”

Phil’s eyes flicked up again, surprise and happiness flooding his expression, despite what was obviously his best effort to conceal them.

“I love you too, dork. Where did that come from?”

I shrugged, smiling at my pancakes. “You deserve to hear it more often.”

I was glad he didn’t protest, because if he had I would have thrown my fork at him. I vowed to myself that I would tell him that at least once a day, for as long as we were together.

Heroes deserve rewards, even if they were only words of praise.