#so like i imagine usually he has enough for his childhood n young adult years n stuff but like entire life? nah. job is necessary 👍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student.

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much.

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me.

That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

Spencer is horribly frustrated.

A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

And play she has.

From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

“Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

“Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

“Yes, my love?”

Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

“I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

“Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

“You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

“Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

“That’s why.”

Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

“I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

“Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

“You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

“Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

“Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

“Jump.”

It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

“Spencer!”

Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

“You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

She silences those fears with a kiss.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

“Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

“Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

“I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

“Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

“Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

“It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“As they should. That was sensational.”

Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

“What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

“I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

“I have a few ideas.”

taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox @whxt-to-write @calm-and-doctor @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #professor!spencer #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler fanfic #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #smut #professor!reid

2K notes · View notes

sugarsugarmoon · 4 years

Text

Summary: Kim Seokjin had always been in your life. Like satellites you seemed to revolve around the same center, always coming back together. He had been the friend that would always be a constant in your life. When everything in your life starts to change and you feel like the trajectory of your orbit has changed, Seokjin is there to both hold you down and throw you even more out of control.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: recreational alcohol use, swearing, infidelity, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), bad dad jokes (I’m so sorry), a lot of tension, sexual and otherwise. It’s actually pretty vanilla.

a/n: I am weeeeeeaaaaak. t’s unedited. I promise I plan to go back and fix all the typos at some point this week.

Pairing: ksj x reader

Word Count: 10,888

When you open your eyes, you see Kim Seokjin beaming at you from across the cake, smoke swirling up between the two of you. You scoop up some icing from the cake and, in what feels like slow motion, wipe some of the blue sugar on Seokjin’s nose. You giggle at the sight of him. He sticks his fingers in and scoops up cake and frosting and wipes them across your cheek. Before it can evolve into a full-blown food fight, your mom gets between the two of you, giving you both a stern look. The two of you giggle, much to your mom’s chagrin.

Most of your memories of your childhood feel like this. The most consistent thing in your memories from your childhood is Kim Seokjin, his smile, his laugh, and the way you always felt safe around him. The two of you running around outside between your houses, in the same neighborhood but one street apart. Sidewalk chalk coating your fingers and your knees. Sweat trickling down your brows and skin turning red in the summer heat. Gloved fingers throwing snowballs in the winter months while giggles filled the crispy air.

The two of you were inseparable. That is...until middle school.

When you were in middle school, Seokjin asked you to go to the dance with him, and you were so embarrassed that you’d immediately rejected him. Both of your faces were bright red as you told him that you couldn’t be seen with him because everyone would think you were interested in him. You regretted saying it to him almost immediately, but the damage had already been done.

The two of you drifted apart after that. He avoided eye contact with you in the hallway at school, and you felt guilty but never enough to say anything about it. Seokjin continued living his life. You saw his name on the posters for school plays, running for class president, and always around with his friends laughing.

Of course you voted for him and quietly sat in the back of the amphitheater for every production he was in. You never told him. You never told your friends, but you loved him despite your selfishness. Your group of friends in high school never knew about how inseparable you and Seokjin had been, and you assumed his didn’t either.

In April of your junior year of high school, your parents told you that you would be going on a trip that summer to a home that they’d bought in Buan, near the Yellow Sea. You’d be spending the entire summer in South Korea, even though you hadn’t been there since you were a child. You were excited to be able to spend the summer in another country, but you were pretty bummed that you were going to have to spend the whole summer away from your friends, Gwangju the only big city nearby.

Even though you were apprehensive, at the end of May, you said goodbye to all of your friends and promised to message each other online every single night, even though you’d be in different time zones. You cried through the whole airport and even on the plane sitting next to your mom.

She just kept whispering, “shhh,내 새끼 (Nae saeggi), you will love it. We will have so much fun,” while she held your hand.

After a while, you fell asleep holding your mom’s hand, wrapped in one of those thin airplane blankets. When you woke up, you were landing in Korea. The rest of the day was a blur, but you will never forget the moment that you first saw the Yellow Sea. The mountains off in the distance creating a scalloped silhouette against the sky, and the water meeting the shore creating a whirlwind of different blues and greens. It felt like something shifted in you, like you were meant to be here.

When you went inside of the little blue cabin, your breath was taken away. The wooden cabin felt homey and comfortable. Your mom showed you to your room, and you were floored by the view from the bay window. You hardly even noticed that there were two beds in your room when you started unpacking your clothes. You tried to put the pictures of you and your friends all over the room along with small trinkets from your life back home. It started to feel like your own.

As you were about to settle in for a nap, you hear your mom’s voice in the kitchen along with a few voices that you recognize but can’t quite place. When there’s a young male voice, you start to put it together. Before your brain can even form his name, your mom pushes the door opened followed by the last person you expected to see here. Seokjin.

“y/n, the Kims have arrived,” your mom said like you knew that they were coming or something.

“엄마!! What are they doing here?!” You jumped up off of the bed straightening your clothing and smoothing your hair.

Your mother’s face flushed, and she flew across the room to you, pulling you close to her. She whispered in angry, fast Korean, and you only caught bits and pieces. You didn’t need to know exactly what she’s saying to know that you’d embarrassed her, and she was upset. Your face flushed, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks. Hanging your head, you look at the floor in front of Seokjin’s mom’s feet.

“I’m so sorry. I was just surprised,” you mutter, your tone ashamed.

“It’s all right, y/n. I imagine Seokjin and Seokjoong were surprised as well. We didn’t tell you kids that we would be spending the summer together,” she approached you, taking your hand in hers. “We will have a wonderful summer, dear.”

Your eyes met hers, and they were soft and caring. You felt a sense of comfort looking into her eyes. While you looked at her, you saw a small movement out of your peripheral. As the movement continued and the shuffling sound increased, you turned to see Seokjin being pushed by his father into the room, a stuffed alpaca under his arm. He dragged his rolling suitcase behind him and settled next to the second bed in the room.

“W-what is going on?” you stammered.

“Well, y/n,” she looked between you and Seokjin, “because there are only four rooms, you and Seokjin will share this one.”

“What?!”

You turned to your mom exasperatedly and stomp your foot. She’s looking at you with fire in her eyes. “You will share the room with Seokjin, and you will not complain.”

Your eyes met the floor again. “Yes, 엄마.”

You grumbled to yourself in your head, but you turned back to Seokjin, shot him a dirty look, and turned back to your bed. You flopped down with a heavy sigh and popped in your earbuds. There was nothing you could do about it, and you weren’t going to push your mother further about how it made more sense to you for Joong to share a room with Jin. Your mother and the Kims were more traditional, and, because Joong was the oldest, he had the right to more privacy and his own space.

The first night was a lot of huffing and sulking from both you and Jin. You made sure to sigh loudly any time that he crossed to your side of the room to hang his clothes or put away his shoes. After the initial shock, the two of you floated through your days near each other without interacting for weeks. You would go down to the water on sunny days, lying on the beach, swimming, and enjoying the heat of the Korean summer. On the rainy days, you would curl up on your bed and read the same book you’d already read because you hadn’t thought to bring more than one. Seokjin did his own thing, and you only ever saw him before bedtime.

One evening in July, you decided to come back early from the shore to shower and try to talk to your friends online. You lay in your bed, tapping away happily on your computer, looking up when the door opened. A yelp rang out from near the door. Your head snapped around and standing before you was Seokjin in a white bathrobe, face tinted crimson and long, slender fingers grasping firmly at the fabric to pull it closed around him.

“Oh god! y/n! You aren’t usually here at this time. I thought-” Seokjin stammered. “I didn’t...and you…”

Seokjin didn’t leave, didn’t move. He just stood in front of you. Your hands fly up to cover your eyes, and you scream “I’m sorry!”

After what felt like 10 minutes, you finally heard the door to the room shut, and when your eyes opened again, Seokjin was no longer there. You felt the heat in your face, and you weren’t sure what you were going to do to make things less awkward between the two of you. Seokjin didn’t come back that night; you assumed he begged Seokjoong to sleep in there. You avoided Seokjin for a week. If he was at the dinner table, you told your mom you weren’t hungry. If he came down to the beach, you suddenly needed to go send an email to your friends.

On the last night of July, you were watching the sunset over the water and behind the mountains. You were so rapt in the beauty of the moment, thinking about how it would be perfect to come here with a lover as an adult that you did here the person approaching you from behind.

“I think,” the voice started, and you jumped, “that we should probably figure out a solution to our mutual discomfort.”

Seokjin was now sitting beside you on your blanket. He pulled his knees up toward his chest, wrapping his arms around them. The long, broad-chested young man that usually inhabited Seokjin’s body was replaced by a boy, cradling himself. There was a vulnerability in Seokjin’s face as the pinks and oranges of the sky reflected off the surface of the sea.

“I’m totally cool with pretending the bathrobe thing didn’t happen if you are.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t see anything anyway.”

His hand moved up and cupped the back of his neck. You could see a faint blush in his cheeks and on his ears. You rested your hand on his knee and tried to psychically force him to look at you with your mind, but his eyes stayed trained on the fading pastels in the sky.

“You know…” he paused as if trying to think of the right words to say. He shook his head as if deciding against what he was going to say. “What bathrobe thing?”

He laughed that unmistakable Kim Seokjin laugh and slapped his knee. But he still wouldn’t look at you, so you knew something was still weird between you. You turned back to the sea and watched as the sun dipped completely behind the mountains, painting the sky even more vivid with its reflections on the water.

“Seokjin, if something is still not okay between us-“

“Shh,” he cuts you off. Then the two of you sat in silence until the only light in the sky was the low-hanging full moon and the porch light on the cabin.

You didn’t want to be the first to move, so you sat still, staring at the sky speckled with dots of light. You couldn’t see the stars so well in the city, and here there was still light pollution. But it was nice to look up at the sky and see the hints of stars. Finally, Seokjin moved beside you.

When you turned, he was looking right at you. “You know that you really hurt me, right?”

“With the bathrobe thing?! How?”

“No, y/n, don’t be ridiculous. In middle school. When you told me that you couldn’t be seen with me? That hurt me so much.”

You were glad that it was dark enough that he couldn’t see the blush in your cheeks.

“Seokjin, I was just a kid. I didn’t mean to say that you weren’t worth being seen with.”

“Of course not. I’m very handsome.” You could hear the smirk on his mouth, the wink in his eye. “But we did everything together anyway. And I had the biggest crush on you. I thought that was my chance, and you just kinda stepped all over my heart. I’ve moved on, but we’ve never cleared the air. You never even said sorry.”

You thought back on the conversation and the days and weeks following, and you realized that you never really explained to Seokjin and certainly never said that you were sorry. You were the reason that your friendship changed. You were the one who did the damage.

“Seokjin, I’m so sorry for the things I said then. I know it’s been years since I did that, but I never meant to hurt you. It was my own insecurity. I thought that if I went to the dance with you that no boy would ever want to talk to me because they’d think you and I were together. Now, I realize that the only boy I wanted to talk to me was the one I pushed away.”

Your hand found his, resting gently on his thigh. You squeezed it three times, not breaking eye contact with him.

He shifted his body slightly, so he was turned more toward you. And you followed his lead. “I know that you didn’t mean to hurt me, but it’s been so hard without you,” he whispers.

You didn’t realize how close he was until you felt his breath on your lips. “Seokjin, I’m sorry. I should have seen what was right in front of me.”

Your voice was wavering, and his eyes kept moving to your mouth. You were fighting looking down at his pillowy lips because you knew what would be inevitable if you did. But did you want to fight that? Or did you want to feel the way that his mouth felt against yours? His breath against your skin, close and intimate? Was this what you wanted?

“You really should have seen what was right in front of you. I’m so handsome; you must have been blind,” Seokjin laughed slightly from the back of his throat.

With his second mention in the five minutes of how handsome that he was, you decided that you were taking this far too seriously. Seokjin was joking and having fun, and you should have been having fun too.

Your body leaned in, moving even closer to Seokjin. Close enough that your nose could touch his cheek. You’d decided to let Seokjin make the final move. He closed his eyes and started moving toward you. Just as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt the ghost of his lips against yours, you heard an all-too-familiar sound.

“y/n! Seokjin! It is dark! Get inside now!” your mom shouted from the doorway of the cabin.

Both of your heads whipped toward where she stood, breaking any chance of a special intimate moment that you may have had together. You scrambled to stand up and put distance between yourself and Seokjin, and you yanked the blanket off the ground as soon as he stood up.

“Uh...y/n,” he started, trying to clear the air once again.

“Seokjin, it’s fine. Let’s not worry about it. We’re cool, right?” The words spilled so quickly out of your mouth as you started to walk quickly toward the house.

“Yeah. We’re cool.” His voice trailed behind you, in a slightly disappointed tone.

The rest of the summer had continued as if the moment on the beach never happened. Seokjin was around more and more with you, and the two of you started to feel more natural together again. It was like almost no time had passed. You picked on one another and shared secrets in the dark lying across the room from one another. One week, the two of you even adventured into Gwangju together, exploring Mudeungsan National Park and 1913 Songjeong Market. Gwangju was so beautiful, and you were so happy that you got to experience it with Seokjin.

When August came, it was time for the two of you to go back home and back to real life. You felt uneasy about what your relationship would be like, but you’d hoped that Seokjin would still be a part of your life.

It was a weird transition at first. You hardly spoke Korean at home, and you forgot that people wouldn’t initially address you in a language that you struggled with. Your friends had a hard time adjusting to Seokjin hanging out with you more often, tagging along to movie nights. Seokjin’s friends seemed happy to have you around, but he was very protective of you around his male friends, keeping a hand on your lower back.

Other than the initial awkwardness, slipping back into friendship with Seokjin was easy. You felt like you didn’t have to try as hard as you sometimes did with other friends. He already knew everything about you and your family and your past, and you knew his. The two of you were inseparable.

Seokjin was, of course, elected prom king, and you cheered wildly for him when they announced his name at the dance. He threw flying kisses at the whole crowd, and he turned to you and made eye contact, throwing a finger heart right to you and winking. You’d blushed deeply and turned away. You wondered why the hell you’d felt like that, but the moment passed. You let the thoughts that had been racing through your head go, never allowing yourself to dwell on them.

The two of you hosted your high school graduation party together and spent every moment of the summer together except when you went on a trip with your girlfriends to the beach.

Things started to change again between you and Seokjin when you went to college. He was studying film, and you were studying pre-law. Your course load was strenuous, even from the beginning. You’d chosen to take an additional class each semester in order to earn your paralegal certification by the time that you were a junior, so you could work in a law firm while you finished school. Seokjin was usually busy working on filming or editing or auditioning for something. The two of you had so much less time together than you used to.

You did make time to have dinner together in the dining hall once a week, and you’d catch up quickly on what you’d done over the course of the week. It didn’t last past the first semester though. One of you would cancel because you had a study group or a date or an activity off campus. And soon enough, it wasn’t expected anymore.

In your junior year, you’d started working at a law firm in town as a paralegal, and you felt like you were becoming an actual adult. You really enjoyed putting on your professional outfits to go to the office, when you’d spent the last two years in sweatpants with your hair in half-hearted messy buns. You felt like a professional. An adult.

Something that helped you feel even more like an adult was the young lawyer, Nam Joohyuk, who was just 6 years older than you, was the main lawyer that you worked with. He was so handsome that you couldn’t believe sometimes that he was actually a lawyer and not a model.

He talked to you like you knew what you were doing, not a complete idiot like the other lawyers did (which you felt like most of the time). He’d invited you to a couple of Happy Hours with the firm, which you had to pass because you still had coursework to complete. You couldn’t help the crush that you developed on him because he was handsome and kind and an amazing attorney.

In your senior year, you decided to let yourself have a little bit of fun because you usually said no to parties or anything that might interfere with your studies. You knew you had a lot to do, but a party or two couldn’t hurt.

One party was at a junior boy’s house, who you had met a few times. You went with some of your friends from your program, who seemed thrilled that you were going out for once. The house was packed with people, the air hazy and the smell of weed and cigarettes hanging low, creeping into your nostrils. People with red cups stood around while the loud music boomed in the speakers. As soon as you were deep into the house, you remembered why you didn’t like house parties.

You followed your friends, and you got a drink from the kitchen. A few of your friends disappeared into the crowd, looking for other friends or boyfriends or crushes. You stood awkwardly in the kitchen, unsure what you should be doing except drinking.

“I would never have expected you to be here,” a familiar voice half-shouts across the kitchen.

When you trace the voice back to the source, the shining, slightly red face of Kim Seokjin is staring back at you. You smile broadly, a little tipsy yourself. It was nice to see Seokjin’s face, and you were thrilled that someone you knew was here. As you looked up into his face, you could see that his eyes were glassy with the haze of alcohol, but you didn’t mind because he had such a warm smile that reached his distant eyes.

“Have a drink with me?” you asked, as you started to mix up another drink in your cup.

“Of course,” Seokjin responded, closing the distance between the two of you.

You stood together in the kitchen sipping the concoction that you’d made, which was not good, and catching up about what each of you had been up to. By the time your cup was empty, you had giggled so hard that your cheeks hurt. When you turned around to the counter again, you felt Seokjin’s body move behind you. His fingers wrapped around your waist, and the tips danced lightly on the skin of your tummy just above your pants. He buried his face in your hair and breathed deeply. You jumped a little at the contact, but you didn’t push him away.

You let him continue to touch your skin, and when his mouth found the delicate skin of your neck, you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped from within you. You pushed your ass back against him, and you felt his cock hardening in his jeans. The thought that his hardness was caused by you made your heart pound, and you felt the heat of the thought in your core. Your fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, flitting tenderly through the wisps of hair there.

“y/n, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he growled into your ear before biting down on the lobe. His tongue started to explore your neck and collarbone, and you moaned again, dropping your other hand to the counter to steady yourself. Seokjin’s hips started a small motion against your backside, rubbing your clothed ass to achieve some relief.

You turned your head slightly toward him, and his mouth found yours. Finally, you felt his soft lips on yours, moving slowly but purposefully. His tongue was sloppy and lazily exploring your mouth. This kiss, though drunk and sloppy, was absolutely worth the wait. You weren’t sure that you’d felt this aroused in months, desperate to have his hands on every inch of your body.

And then, as fate would have it, your phone started ringing loudly from your pocket. It blared the tone that you had set specifically for Joohyuk, and you couldn’t imagine that he would be calling you at 12am on a weekend unless it was an emergency.

You turned your attention away from Seokjin and held up a finger to him, trying to flash the most apologetic possible look to him. You scurried off toward the backdoor, answering the phone as soon as you were outside in the quiet and fresh air of the night.

“Hello?”

“y/n! What are you doing right now?” a slightly slurring Joohyuk asks.

“I’m out with my friends,” you half-lie, “what is going on Mr. Nam? Is there something you need from me?”

“Well...there’s one thing I need from you,” he giggles.

Was he drunk? What the fuck was going on? You were sure that he was far too professional to drunk dial his paralegal, and, besides, there’s no way that he was interested in you. You were just a dumb kid, and he was way out of your league.

“Mr. Nam, are you all right?”

Your concern seemed to shock him out of whatever weird mood he was in.

“Oh, y/n. I’m so sorry. It’s late. I’ll see you on Monday.”

He hung up, and that was the end of that conversation. Puzzled, you made your way back to the kitchen to find Seokjin. Much to your dismay, he wasn’t where you’d left him. So you shot him a text.

You: hey, are you all right?

Seokjin: yeah, I just needed to head home. I’m so sorry

You couldn’t tell what exactly he was saying sorry for, but you decided to let it go. You found your friends and told them that you wanted to head home because you were tired. Your head was foggy from the booze and the party and the weird phone call. All you could think about was the way that Seokjin’s lips felt on yours. His fingers on your skin. The warmth of his body pressed against yours. As you sat in the back of your Lyft home, you shivered thinking about the lack of warmth being shared with you now.

You’d tried to reach out to Seokjin several more times since the party but to no avail. Eventually, you’d figured it was probably just a drunken mistake that he regretted. If anyone asked you, you would have said you’d regretted it too. Even though you knew that wasn’t true. How could it possibly be true? So many almosts with Seokjin.

You continued to work at the firm, growing closer and closer to Joohyuk. The Monday after his awkward phone call to you, he had awkwardly apologized for the drunk dial and promised it would never happen again. You usually weren’t forward, so you had no idea what got into you. You smirked and responded, “well, I certainly hope it will.”

You’d blushed, dipped your head, and scurried away to the file room before he could respond. When you think back on it, that was probably the day your relationship with Joohyuk had shifted from strictly professional to more friendly. You were sure that being slightly rejected by Seokjin the weekend before had something to do with it, but you never told anyone about what happened in that kitchen that night.

When you graduated from college, your parents had hosted a graduation party with the Kims for both you and Seokjin. You were a little bit embarrassed that all of your achievements had to be shared with Seokjin, and you hadn’t really spoken to him since that night. The party was more for your parents than anyone else, so you let it happen.

That night, you drank a little bit too much, and by the time the party had wound down, you were drunk, sitting alone in the backyard.

“Hey,” Seokjin said as he plopped down in a chair next to you. He was holding a beer in his hand and wasn’t looking at you.

“Oh, hey. I figured you didn’t want to talk to me, so I kinda just minded my own business all evening.” You could hear the venom in your own tone, but you didn’t care because you had so many unanswered questions that you knew he’d never answer.

“Whoa, when did I ever say that I didn’t want to talk to you? I think I would remember saying that?”

The fake laugh that escaped from within you carried all the animosity that you were feeling. “You didn’t have to say it, Seokjin. You were too busy saying nothing.”

You cast your eyes to the sky above you, searching for any hint of stars in the sky, and, when you had no luck with that, choosing instead to lock your eyes directly on the moon.

“y/n, I-” he started.

“Save it, Seokjin. If you thought that kissing me that night was such a horrible mistake, you could have at least still been a friend to me. But you disappeared. Were you so ashamed of having kissed me that you had to completely cut me off?” The tears started to swell in your eyes, and you felt the booze heightening your sensitivity. You didn’t get up and leave, hoping he’d have some kind of explanation that made up for the past 6 months.

“y/n, it wasn’t like that. I don’t know how to explain it to you. I just...I was an idiot.” The sincerity in his voice didn’t make up for the betrayal and rejection that you were feeling.

“Yeah. You were,” you retorted as you got up and started to walk away from him.

“Please, wait!” he moved after you and grabbed your wrist. You didn't turn toward him, but you stopped walking.

“y/n, you have to know that I never meant to make you feel rejected or hurt,” he spoke softly and gently, with a delicate care like his words might break you. You’d hoped he would have had something better to say.

“Well, Seokjin, it may not have been your intention, but you did it anyway.”

You wiggled your wrist free of his grasp and walked away from him quickly. You made your way into the house and locked yourself in your childhood bedroom. Drunkenly, you sat on the edge of your bed crying into your hands.

Just then, your phone dinged from your back pocket. You half-expected it to be another apology from Seokjin, and your heart sunk when it wasn’t.

Nam Joohyuk: I am so proud of you for working so hard. In three years, you are going to be the greatest lawyer this world has ever seen. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your party. I got caught up writing these briefs.

You blinked the tears out of your eyes. When you were hurting, it seemed like Joohyuk just knew that you needed someone. He had a way of always being there to support you and tell you that he was proud.

You: Well, if you’re free now, I’m drunk and vulnerable. Come over?

You figured it was worth a shot, and, if he rejected you too, then you would be in the same boat you were already in.

Joohyuk: be there in 20

That was the night that you and Joohyuk first kissed. It was chaste and gentle in the front seat of his car. You’d tried to move further with him, your hand sliding over the belt around his waist. He had, seemingly begrudgingly, stopped you because he said that it would feel like taking advantage of you.

Instead, he took you to an all night diner and bought you pancakes, which you scarfed down. You hadn’t realized you hadn’t eaten all day, and that was probably why you were so drunk and emotional. He rested his hand on your knee as he sat next to you in the booth, and something about Joohyuk’s presence made you feel safe. You smiled up at him, a dumb drunk smile, and kissed him again.

Things with Joohyuk were always easy. You didn’t feel rejected or unwanted by him. You knew exactly where you stood with him. He was so nice and caring and sweet, but there always seemed to be something between the two of you. You really weren’t sure what it was.

***

Three years later, you were getting ready to graduate after a gruelly time working through law school. You had taken and passed all of your exams. You were in the top five students in your class, and law firms were already scouting you, though you weren’t quite sure what you wanted to do.

You didn’t tell Joohyuk that you’d been applying for some positions abroad as well because you weren’t sure how he would feel about it. The two of you had been together for the last three years since you started law school, and you were content and comfortable with him and your life together. You weren’t sure that you were happy, but he was supportive and loving. You loved him, right?

The week after graduation, you received a phone call from a law firm in Gwangju asking you to go to Korea and interview for a position in their main office, though they had satellite offices all over the country. You knew that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to interview for such a highly paid position at such a prominent office.

Breaking the news to Joohyuk finally was difficult. He stared at you confused and slightly hurt.

“But, y/n, I thought that you were going to stay at the firm with me?” he asked, softly.

“That’s still a possibility, darling, but I have to see where this opportunity could take me. Please support me with this.”

You’d tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, and he had smiled at you, nodding.

“Of course, I will. And maybe when you come back, we can take some steps in our relationship?”

The hope in his tone scared you, but you didn’t tell him that. You’d simply nodded and turned back to your computer to respond to the email you’d received from the firm. You weren’t sure that you were ready to take anymore steps with Joohyuk, but you knew that when you came back you would have decisions to make.

One week later, you were on an airplane, headed to Gwangju. You hadn’t been back to Korea since that summer in high school. Images played through your head of that summer, playing on the beach with Seokjin. You could see his face laughing in your mind, the sound of his laugh echoing off the walls of your skull. It was almost painful reliving the memories, knowing that your friendship with Seokjin had ended that night in your parents’ backyard.

Your visit to Gwangju wasn’t anything transformative. It was a typical interview, but you did feel like you nailed it. You spoke Korean with them, and, in your head, you patted yourself on the back for remembering to use honorifics, which your mother constantly yelled at you about the few months that you’d been here together. You explored the city a little bit after your interview, eating as much samgyeopsal and kimbap as you could shove into your mouth.

Since you were in Korea anyway, you’d decided to make the 2 hour train trip to Buan to visit the cabin. Your mom had been renting it out as an Airbnb while they weren’t there, though she and your father had gone a couple of times since you’d been there. When you told your mom that you were going to interview in Gwangju, she’d practically shouted that you needed to go to the cabin and make sure everything was all right there. She wasn’t sure that she trusted the housekeeper that she’d hired because the last time she’d been there, there had been some residue in the bathtub. You’d chuckled quietly to yourself at your mom’s impossible standards of cleanliness but promised you would check up on the place and clean anything that needed cleaned.

As you approached the front of the cabin, you had been flooded with emotions. Memories of your family, the Kims, and all the things that you had forgotten from that time. You unlocked the door and stepped into the still house. It seemed like it had been untouched since you’d been there seven years earlier. There were a few updates in the kitchen and different linens on the bed, but everything else was exactly the same. You stood in the bay window looking out at the sea, and tears trailed down your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you were crying, but you knew that you had some big decisions to make.

Even though you were the only one there, it felt weird to try to sleep in your parents’ bed or the Kims’ or Seokjoong’s, so you unpacked in the same room that you’d shared with Seokjin years before. You had planned on staying two weeks in the cabin and then returning home after you would hopefully know where you would be working. You napped curled on top of the covers of the bed and ordered dinner to be delivered.

The next day, you decided to open the bay windows and paint the mountains and the water. You set up the easel that your mother had reluctantly stored for you all these years and the watercolor paints that you’d brought with you. You put your headphones in and painted for hours, different color palettes and patterns, happy to drown out the real world for a day.

As you sat there, completely focused on the scene in front of you, you didn’t hear the door unlock or the man come into the room. He must have come from the other direction up the road because you probably would have seen him walk past your window. Then again, you were so focused on what you were doing, maybe you’d just missed him.

A hand was laid upon your shoulder, and you screamed, flinging paint everywhere. You knocked over the easel, painting splattering on the floor and the window. It took a moment for you to recognize the face that was behind you because you were blinded with fear. Soon your focus and concentration starts again, and you see Seokjin standing with a look of horror on his face.

“Kim Seokjin, what in the actual fuck are you doing?!” you screamed. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your breathing was heavy. You felt the tears start to swell in your eyes like they usually did when you were scared.

Seokjin crossed the small space between the two of you and wrapped his arms around you. You pushed him gently, but he kept his grip.

“y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know that you’d be here, and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Finally, you stopped resisting his embrace, and you fell forward against his broad chest. He held you like that for what felt like a lifetime, while your heartbeat slowed to normal and your breathing became more controlled. When you’d relaxed yourself enough and all the fear had melted away, you leaned back from him.

“So, seriously. What are you doing here? My mom said I’d have the place to myself.” You give him a look of consternation to let him know that you are upset that he ruined your plans.

“Oh goodness, well maybe your parents didn’t communicate. I came to Gwangju for an audition, and your dad asked me to drop by and fix a couple of things while I was nearby. I think your parents didn’t communicate,” he laughed softly.

“That, or they just didn’t care. They didn’t tell us we’d be here together last time either.”

You turned your attention back to the mess you made, and you slap your hand over your forehead. You begin to collect your brushes, palette, and papers from the floor, unsure of how you’ll clean up the paint.

“Hey, y/n, let me clean that up. It’s the least I can do since I almost scared you to death,” Seokjin offered, putting his hands on either side of your shoulders and moving you away from the mess. “Seriously, go take a bath or something and relax. I’ll clean this.”

You nodded and made your way to the bathroom on the first floor. You were glad that Seokjin offered to clean it because you were pretty upset that he’d spilled your paint and ruined your painting in the first place. You took a long bath, soaking in the warm water and letting some of your stress dispel into the water. This was the first moment you’d taken to actually relax since before you finished your exams for law school.

When you’d finished your bath, you walked out into the main area in your bathrobe. You smelled the smell of Galbi, Kimchi Jjigae, and Mandoo. Your mouth waters at the aroma that fills the room. You wander into the kitchen, and Seokjin turns when you clear your throat. His eyes widen as he sees that you are clad only in a bathrobe. He clears his throat and turns his eyes back to the pans in front of him.

You giggle. “Now, we’re even on the bathrobe front, Seokjinnie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. What bathrobe incident?”

The two of you laughed together as he continued to work over the multiple dishes that he was making. He seemed happy to make traditional Korean meals, and the way that he furrowed his brow as he tasted the soup made you smile. Something about seeing him in his element like this made your heart soften like butter left on the counter too long.

He plated up the dishes for the two of you, and you sat on the high bar stools at the counter eating the delicious creation he made. You had giggled as he slurped his soup and told dad jokes while he ate. You had forgotten how much you’d loved moments like this, and it was so easy to slide right back into things with Seokjin even after years of separation. There was still a pang in your heart each time you looked at him for the things that had gone unsaid for so long.

After eating, the two of you cleaned the kitchen and all of the dishes and then moved to the living room. You sat on the couch together talking and giggling. You didn’t even realize that you were still in your bathrobe as you sat knee-to-knee with Seokjin. Looking directly at him, you noticed a few flecks of blue paint settled on his cheek next to his mouth. Not realizing you were staring, you leaned toward him to get it off, your fingers moving up toward the flawless skin.

“Uh...y/n?” Seokjin asked in a hesitant voice.

At that moment you realized exactly what this looked like. To him, it looked like you were looking at his mouth, leaning toward him, bringing your hand up to his cheek. Oh my god! He probably thought you were going to kiss him.

And that’s what brought you to this moment, sitting next to him, face scarlet, hands in your lap.

“Seokjin! It wasn’t like that. You have…” you can’t even bring your mouth to form the right words.

He’s giggling watching your face blush and taking in all of your features. His hand grasps yours between your legs and squeezes it three times. You look up at his face, even though you feel shame and embarrassment from the miscommunication.

“I should have texted you,” he says, looking down at where your hands meet. “I just didn’t know what to say. I figured you’d only done it because you were drunk, and I felt like I had taken advantage of you in a vulnerable state.”

When his words process in your mind, you realize that he had been thinking the same things that you’d been thinking about the night at the party. You and Seokjin had never communicated about it, so you each thought the other regretted that moment.

“Seokjin, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. I thought that you were ashamed of what you'd done and that you’d only done it because you were drunk!” you exclaim, shifting toward him.

You see him smile and then his eyes widen as his eyes land on your chest. He chokes a little, and you finally look down at yourself. Much to your embarrassment, your bathrobe has shifted, slightly revealing your breast, areola clearly visible. Your nipple is hard against the thin, white, silky fabric, and you, once again, feel the heat in your face. It feels like everytime that you are with Seokjin, you are blushing about something. You pull the fabric back tight around you, covering all of the skin you’d accidentally exposed.

Seokjin shifts awkwardly, rips his eyes away from you, and stares at his hands in his lap. He starts giggling to himself. You’re already embarrassed enough, you can’t believe that Seokjin is laughing at you.

“Hey, y/n,” he starts. You are terrified of what he’s going to say. “What do you call a pop star with huge nipples?”

He continues giggling as you look at him baffled. Your jaw drops, and no words will escape your mouth.

“Areola grande.”

He laughs his windshield wiper laugh and slaps his knee. You chuckle softly. Leave it to Seokjin to make a dad joke when he’s just seen your breast. You shove him with your shoulder and stand up to head to your room to get dressed. Seokjin watches you leave the room, and he looks slightly disappointed as you disappear around the corner.

You poke your head back into the main room and shout back. “Hey, the other girl I met a girl with 12 nipples.”

He gives you a confused look, but there is a grin starting to spread across his face.

“Sounds weird, dozen tit!”

You giggle so hard that you snort, and you throw your head back in laughter. Seokjin bolts off of the couch toward you. His arms snake around your waist, and he pulls you close to him.

“That’s it,” he growls at you. “I need you, y/n. Is this okay?”

His lips hover just over yours as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear like a fucking movie. You nod vigorously, and he immediately slams his mouth into yours. It’s passionate and wild, and his teeth catch your bottom lip. You moan softly as he releases it and use your tongue to search his lips and his mouth. Your tongues are dancing together in your mouths, as your hands explore each other. His hands slide up and down your hips and your ass outside of your bathrobe.

He pulls back from you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Why are you so fucking perfect?” he asks.

Before you can say anything in response, his mouth is one yours again. You can feel all of the longing that you’ve felt to press your mouth against his since that day on the shore seven years ago. You needed him then, but you need him even more now. Everything in your life is changing, Seokjin is always there. He is the constant in your life.

Your fingers slide under the back of his shirt, and you feel his taut skin stretched over his muscular back. The heat building in your core is undeniable, and you pride yourself on not being shallow, but fuck if Seokjin’s body isn’t amazing. You’ve wanted to see it ever since that day you saw him in his bathrobe. You wanted to see the chest underneath, his nipples, the skin of his thighs, his shoulder blades, his belly button, and, of course, his cock. You’d imagined what all of it looked like in your head more times than you would ever be willing to admit. You want to savor these moments because you’d been waiting so long. That day in the kitchen, you’d gotten so close, but now you think it might be your time.

You hesitate for a moment, realizing that Seokjin could disappear again at any moment. He must feel the pause because he pulls back from you.

“Is everything all right, y/n? Are you not enjoying this? Oh my god, did I read this wrong? Were you just looking at me like that because I’m so handsome?”

You laugh, once again. It seems like you’re always laughing when Seokjin is around. “No, I was actually looking at you like that because you have paint on your face. But I want this. Please Seokjin. I want this.”

You stare up at him, trying to project all of your desire into your gaze, and it must work because he groans and pulls you closer against his body. He presses his lips to your neck and your collarbone.

“Why don’t we take this to our shared childhood bedroom?” he asks as he pulls away and winks.

“When you say it like that, it sounds absolutely disgusting,” you retort, shoving him again.

You lead him by the hand into the bedroom, and, once inside, you undo the tie on your robe. It stays on your shoulders for now, and your finger seductively beckons him toward you. You swear you hear a whimper come from him, and he closes the distance between you.

His fingertips are smooth against the skin on your sides as he slides them beneath your robe. You take that moment to push your fingers up under the front of his shirt and yank it over his head. He shakes his hair out and pulls you even closer to him. The skin from your chest meets the skin on his, and the skinship makes you immediately melt.

Your mouth traces along his collarbone, leaving small nips and bites along the way. You sink your teeth into one of his shoulders, and he inhales sharply but doesn’t stop you. You smile to yourself. Your fingers struggle slightly with the button on his pants, and he laughs slightly, bringing his own hands to help you.

He slides his jeans down his hips and stands before you in his black boxer briefs, hard cock clearly straining against the cotton fabric. Your jaw drops slightly as you see the size of the bulge, and you look up at him, with a look that could probably only be described as wonderment. He chuckles and loops his finger under your chin. He pulls your mouth to his for a gentle kiss, and you can’t believe that you’ve waited this long to experience all of these things for the first time.

You slip your robe from your shoulders, standing before him completely exposed. Your nipples are hard with arousal and the slight chill in the air. You feel yourself pinching your shoulder blades together, trying to make your breasts look more young and perky because you know that gravity has already started taking them. Joohyuk once commented that both your nipples pointed downward in an offhand joke, and you hadn’t been able to look at them in the mirror since.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin mutters. He leans into your ear, kissing the lobe softly. “Relax.”

Even just the simple action of him being impressed and turned on by your body makes you feel so much more comfortable with him. You can’t wait any longer, and you slide your hand into his underwear. As your fingers slide around his girth, you feel how soaked you are, the slickness sliding down your inner thigh. Seokjin groans as you slowly stroke him under his underwear.

His hands trace a path up from your things to your breasts. He takes each of your nipples between his fingers and rolls them gently. The stimulation causes you to arch your back and moan. You aren’t sure how you are growing even wetter with his ministrations.

“Seokjin, please. I’ve waited so long. I need you.”

He doesn’t hesitate any longer. He slides his boxer briefs all the way down his hips and steps out of them. He picks you up and lays you down gently on his bed. He climbs on top of you, kissing gently on your collarbone, chest, and finally on your mouth.

“You have no idea how badly I want this,” he whispers against your lips, and your heart jumps in your chest. “I don’t think I’ll last long.”

You chuckle to yourself. “Jinnie, I don’t think I’ll last long either. But we have a lot of time.”

You hadn’t called him Jinnie since you were kids, and the pet name seems to soften his expression slightly. He dips his head to kiss you again. He grips his cock around the base and aligns himself with your entrance. You draw your knees up on either side of him, wrapping your ankles around his back. When he pushes into you, you gasp. The way that his cock stretches you plus the anticipation of this moment makes your eyes flutter shut. He slides slowly into you, burying his cock inside of you.

After you’ve adjusted to him, Seokjin starts to move his hips quicker, establishing a rhythm that drags against the spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back slightly. With Seokjin buried inside of you, nothing else matters. All you can remember is the sensation between your legs and the way that Seokjin’s body feels on top of you.

Seokjin’s breathing is ragged, and you feel yourself coming upon an orgasm already. You couldn’t believe that your emotions could affect your sexual sensations so much, but you didn’t want to spend another moment without Seokjin inside of you.

“y/n, you’re so fucking tight. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect,” Seokjin huffs out against your neck.

“Jinnie,” you trail off as you feel yourself pulse around his cock. Your mind goes blank and all you see is whiteness in your mind. It’s like your mind has been completely purified of all the darkness that existed inside of you, and you tumble over the edge of your orgasm. You feel all the tension and stress of the last few months melting into the mattress as Seokjin thrusts inside of you.

His cock twitches, and he’s moaning your name over and over while he paints your walls with his hot cum. You topple into another orgasm as you feel him filling you up. Nothing has ever felt more worth the wait than having Seokjin’s cum inside of you. Soon the two of you come down, and your sweaty bodies stop moving together.

He lies on top of you for a little while, crushing you slightly, but you don’t mind too much. You’re too happy to care about being squished. If you weren’t his completely before, you certainly were now. You can’t imagine spending another day without Seokjin in your arms and in your bed. But that, of course, means that you have to end things with Joohyuk. For now, you just wanted to cherish this moment, trying not to let yourself think about the possibility that Seokjin didn’t feel the same way.

The next several days, you and Seokjin spent cleaning and doing projects around the house. You also made love in every single room of the house. You went to the beach and watched the sunset like you did as teenagers. Everything felt new and wonderful. In the middle of the second week, you got a call from the law firm in Gwangju officially offering you the position. They gave you two weeks to think about your decision and get back to them.

You wanted to take it, but you had to talk to Joohyuk first. It was unfair of you to fuck someone else while you were with him and accept a job in another country without telling him. You put thoughts of your boyfriend out of your head and focused your attention on the man who you’d spent the last two weeks with nonstop. You were so fond of Seokjin, but you weren’t quite sure where he stood. You didn’t want to push him and end up pushing him away. You enjoyed the time that you had with him, and when it was time for you to leave you kissed him for an hour before you finally had to call a taxi or you’d miss your flight.

Back home, everything felt surreal. It didn’t feel like your own life anymore. You had moved out of your university apartment after law school, so all of your stuff was at your parents’ house. You expected that you’d probably move in with Joohyuk when you graduated, but now, even if you weren’t with Seokjin, you were sure that you didn’t want to be with Joohyuk. You weren’t ready to break his heart, but it had to happen.

You called him and asked him to meet you at your parents house. When he arrived you met him in the front yard, and he ran to you, picking you up and spinning you around in his arms. You laughed awkwardly, not knowing how to make this situation less uncomfortable. When he put your down, you decided to just rip off the bandaid.

“Joo-” you started.

“Before you say anything, I want to get a good look at you and ask you something,” he interrupts.

You stand awkwardly before him while he admires you, and suddenly, you feel dirty for what you’ve done. You didn’t even really consider that what you’d done with Seokjin had been cheating. You just thought that it had been fulfilling your destiny, doing what felt right, what was inevitable. But with Joohyuk looking at you with love in his eyes now, you realized what you had done had not just been realizing that you didn’t want to be with him. You had cheated. A lot.

After he stares at you for a minute, he drops down to one knee in front of you.

Oh fuck.

“y/n, you have made me so happy these last three years, and I’m hoping that you’ll-” he gets cut off by the sound of someone out on the street.

“Seriously, y/n?! Seriously?”

It’s Seokjin. He has pulled his car over to the side of the road, and he is looking at you exasperatedly.

“No! Seokjin, wait! It isn’t what it looks like!” you shout, while Joohyuk looks up at you bewildered.

“Oh, so you aren’t currently being proposed to by another man after you spent two weeks having sex with me in Korea?”

Joohyuk’s smile drops off his face, and he looks between you and Seokjin over and over. He’s clearly confused and hurt and disappointed.

“It’s not like that, Jin. I was about to tell him.”

“What?” Joohyuk blurts out.

“Whatever,” Seokjin shouts dejectedly and drives off.

Tears start to spill from Joohyuk’s eyes. “I’m going to get off my knee now,” he mutters.

“Joo, you have to know that I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I realized that I wasn’t happy, and I know now that I want to take the job in Gwangju. This isn’t what I wanted for my life. I just want to be happy. Can’t you see that?”

You feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. This is not how you pictured this conversation going.

Joohyuk looks at you deep in the eyes. “All I can see is what this night could have been.”

He stalks off toward his car and drives away from your parents house and from your life. You know that you fucked up bad, and now the man that was the only one who could make you happy is gone too. You don’t know how you’re going to convince Seokjin that you were trying to break up with Joohyuk, but you decide to take the night to think about it.

The next day, you’ve formulated your plan, and you are ready to execute it. Your mom asked Seokjin’s mom for the spare key to his apartment, and, because the two are so close, she gave it up right away.

You knew that Seokjin would be out all day, running errands that his mom asked him to do. You really had an amazing ally in his mother. You snuck into his apartment, with all of your supplies in two paper grocery bags, awkwardly carrying one on either side of your hips. You worked for hours getting everything ready.

When Seokjin’s key slides into the lock, you are standing in the living, surrounded by pink flowers and fairy lights. It takes him a moment to process what is in front of him, but when he sees you, he looks slightly disappointed. It’s okay, you kind of expected that.

“Don’t you have a fiance to hang out with?” he asks with acid on his tongue.

“No. I don’t,�� you state blandly. “And I hope that you’ll give me two minutes to explain.”

“One minute,” he responds, like you knew he would.

You take the game hourglass timer that you have in your hand, turn it upside down, and place it on the table.

“When I hooked up with you in Buan, yes I had a boyfriend, and I did cheat on him with you. I was unhappy with him, and honestly, I didn’t realize that it was because I’d just been waiting for you all these years. When you saw us, he had come over to propose, but I had invited him over to end things with him. He’s nice and caring, but he isn’t you. You’re all I want, Seokjin. I made a mistake, and I hope that you can forgive me and give me a chance. I ended a three year relationship because I was so hopeful that things would work out with you that I couldn’t stand to put that in jeopardy by being in a relationship. But I messed it up anyway”

The last of the sand falls through the hourglass as you glance down at it, and you look up at him. His expression is hard to read because it is so stony. The two of you just look into each other’s eyes for another moment.

“You swear it’s over with him?” he asks.

“Of course. You’re all I want, Jinnie.”

“y/n, you have no idea how badly I want to be with you, b-but I have to tell you something first.”

You feel the tears starting to build in your tear ducts, but you force them down. “Tell me, please.”

“I’m moving to Gwangju at least for a while because I was offered a role in a K-Drama, and I’ve accepted it. If we were to be together, it would be long distance, and you know how that goes.” His hand goes up to the back of his neck, and he diverts his eyes from yours.

“Okay, well, two things about that.” You can hear that your tone sounds sarcastic, and you laugh to yourself in your head. “First of all, you and I could make a long distance relationship work, I believe that with my whole heart.”

“y/n, it’s so hard. With time zones, everything is just extra challenging. I’m not sure that’s what either of us want.”

“Well, let me finish then,” you retort. “Second of all, I accepted a job offer at a law firm in Gwangju, so I’ll be moving to Korea in two weeks.”

Seokjin’s jaw drops. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not.

A smile spreads across his features. He strides across the room to you, picks you up in his big arms, and presses his mouth against yours. You kiss for several minutes, Seokjin’s arms wrapped around you.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening making love on the couch and talking about your plans for living in Korea and adjusting to Korean culture. You feel so overwhelmingly excited that you have Seokjin finally and that he will be the person who is with you as you enter this new chapter of your life. You decide that you have some time to work out the details, and right now, you just want to be with each other.

That night when you are lying in bed, your head rests on Seokjin’s chest. He pushes your hair out of your face, like he does, and he looks down at you.

“Hey, y/n?” he whispers.

“Yes, my wonderful Seokjin?”

“How long have the moon and earth been together like this?”

You aren’t sure what he’s saying. You open your mouth to respond, but you see on his face that he’s doing something.

“You’re my planet. I’m just a moon to you. I’m just a little star for you that lights up your heart, but you are my earth. All I see is you.”

You start crying again. How does he say the sweetest things like that like it’s nothing to him?

“I love you, Seokjin,” you whisper up at him.

He wipes one of the tears from your cheek and presses it to his lips. “I love you too, y/n.”

#btscafe7 #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts moon #seokjn #jin #bts jin #bts fanfic #nam joo hyuk

210 notes · View notes

brokutosan · 4 years

Text

Title. We Are Your First, Last, & Only Line of Defense Against This World of Scum

Pairing. Seijoh 3rd Years x Platonic!Reader

Summary. In which growing up is hard, but it’s a lot less harder if you’re doing it with the bestest friends you could ever ask for in the world (and Oikawa Toruu). Or; a journey through the friendship of the third years of Seijoh’s volleyball club.

Warnings. Manga spoilers up to chapter 395. Lots of cursings and mentions of anxieties about growing up. Kind of incoherent and mostly ramblings + not much dialogue, but I’ve been enjoying writing these types of things. Full disclosure: this is completely based on that official art of them at a karaoke bar. Title is from Men in Black by Will Smith.

Oikawa Toruu was 6 years old when he was crying about some kid stealing his pudding cup. And Iwaizumi Hajime was 6 years old when he dreamt of becoming a cop once he grew up, so he sought to bring justice for Oikawa’s pudding cup. L/N Y/N, also 6 years old, had declared that she would marry Hajime once she was old enough to, so she thought it was her job as his future bride to be his partner in solving this crime. (Oikawa Toruu could care less, he just wanted his pudding cup back).

Long story short, Iwaizumi Hajime ended up scuffling with said kid after he called him “stupid porcupine head” and Y/N jumped in the fray to save her future groom, while Oikawa jumped in to reclaim his pudding cup. And that was just the start of their long series of getting into trouble together.

When Oikawa Toruu was 14 years old and in his last year of junior high, the ugly green monster had reared its head and caused hostility between him and a certain kouhai. Y/N, always the kind one, had called him out on his bullshit and told him to get his act together. Oikawa fired back and called her out on her “pathetic crush on Iwa-chan,” effectively setting off the cold war between them that lasted all of summer. Iwaizume recalls having to go back and forth between the two because they refused to be in the same room together.

By the time they were 15 years old and entering highschool, the two ended up being in the same class. Oikawa pretended not to know her and hung out with “Makki” from his volleyball team. Y/N tried branching out and making friends with the other girls in her class for once, but she was shunned out for being close to the Oikawa Toruu back in middle school.

Their three months of silent treatment ended on the second week of the new school year, when Oikawa was enraged by the nasty rumors spreading about his childhood friend. Some guy Y/N rejected during the third day of school had spread rumors that she was involved in a reverse harem with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and that he didn’t bother going out with her because she was “too easy.”

Oikawa, 15 years old, threw the first punch. Iwaizumi, also 15 years old, held back his friend until Oikawa shouted out, “This bastard’s running around calling Y/N-chan a whor-” Oikawa didn’t need to finish because by then Iwaizumi had thrown the second punch. Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, both 15 years old, tried holding back their two new volleyball teammates.

And that’s how Y/N and Oikawa tearfully made up, and the two, “Mattsun” and “Makki”, as Oikawa affectionately named them, joined their little friend group. Y/N ended up joining the volleyball club as a manager per Oikawa’s request (command) and finally everything was back to normal, with everyone forgetting about the “cold war” between Oikawa and Y/N.

It didn’t take long for Hanamaki and Matsukawa to fit into the group because anyone that could tolerate Oikawa deserves a reward (and that reward is the friendship they’ve built over the years, but none of them actually liked to get sappy).

By the time the five friends were 16 year olds in their second year of highschool, Oikawa has made a name for himself as the great setter of the Seijoh volleyball team. The other three were close behind in terms of popularity, but none were quite as open with it as Oikawa was. Y/N, on the other hand, did not get to enjoy the joys of the glory brought by the four players. She made heads turn, but the sight of four glowering boys right behind her made them turn back.

But there were a few exceptions.

Y/N was 16 years old and in second year of highschool when she got her first boyfriend. It wasn’t Oikawa, or Iwaizumi, or Hanamaki, or Matsukawa, no, it was a fellow second year in the same class as her (she was lucky enough not to be put in the same class as any of her idiot friends that year).

All five of them have forgotten his name now, but when they do talk about him every now and then, he was given the affectionate nickname, “Pighead.” Because two months into their relationship, Pighead had the nerve to demand Y/N to completely cut off her four friends.

Because she was young and naive and under the illusion of puppy love, Y/N was thrown into a dilemma. She mulled over it for weeks, lost sleep over whether or not she should comply, until Iwaizumi snapped her out of it and made her spill what was bothering her.

Once the four boys found out they offered to wipe Pighead off the face of Earth, but Y/N just cried and apologized for even just thinking about cutting off her amazing friends. They had a sleepover that night and Y/N still remembers it as one of her best childhood memories.

(Because of that one incident Y/N had decided to completely cut off immature boys from her highschool days).

Come their third year of highschool the five were as close as ever (and Oikawa, regrettably, much more annoying). They’ve built up seemingly unbreakable bonds that would last a lifetime, and Y/N was glad that she was able to take part in it. Having the four boys throughout her teenage years certainly was enjoyable, and she wouldn’t trade the memories and years of friendship they’ve attained for anything in the world. As long as she had the four of them (even Oikawa), she believed she could face off anything and anyone in the world.

When Y/N began worrying about college and growing up, they were there to help cheer her up. When the boys lost to Karasuno in the Prefectural Qualifiers, Y/N was there to cheer them up. She still remembers the tearful afternoon spent in the gym they’d spent three years of their lives in. And despite not being as hurt as the boys were after losing, Y/N had found herself shedding a few tears of her own. As they closed the gym doors one final time, they’ve also closed the doors to their childhood.

Teenage years go by, and as quick as they’ve entered highschool they found themselves graduating. Growing up. Taking the next step into adulthood. The four boys she came to love as her found family were now four men, and they’ve done well growing up.

And just like that tearful goodbye at the Seijoh volleyball club gym, Y/N finds herself preparing for another one. All five of them are adults now. Iwaizumi is going off to California to study in an American university, Oikawa’s going to Argentina to play volleyball, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa are moving to Tokyo together to study in a university. For once in her life, Y/N finds that she’ll be all alone in Miyagi, while her friends take the next few steps to growing up.

The five of them find themselves in Hanamaki’s childhood bedroom, for one last weekend sleepover before everything changes. They’ve strewn out blankets and pillow on the floor, and are laying down in a circular formation. They’ve been in this bedroom hundreds of times, in this same exact position, but now it’s completely different.

All his posters of celebrities are taken down and wrapped neatly on a pile sitting on his desk. His clutter of figurines and plushies collected over the years are in boxes, ready to move with their owner. His closet is empty, the clothes inside stuffed into their own labeled boxes. And his volleyball jersey that’s usually hung by the door is no longer there, no doubt already packed somewhere safe. Y/N tries not to dwell on the somberness of it all, and instead forces a laugh when Matsukawa makes a joke.

Y/N realizes she messed up when four pairs of eyes turn to look at her. “I know I’m a riot, but that joke wasn’t even that funny. I’ll admit to that.” Matsukawa speaks up.

“What’s on your mind?” Iwaizumi finally asks. His arms are behind his head and he’s staring up at the ceiling, no doubt lost in his own train of thoughts.

Y/N contemplates if she should ruin the peaceful vibes surrounding their group. They’ve already cried tons after losing to Karasuno, so do they even have any tears left for a goodbye? Y/N looks to her left and realizes all their attention focused on her, waiting for her to answer Iwaizumi’s question.

“Nothing. Just that maybe this’ll be our last weekend together.” She sighs, letting her emotions get the best of her. “We’re all going our own separate ways, who knows what could happen, y’know?”

It’s Oikawa that reacts first, but that’s no surprise since he’s Oikawa. “Y/N-chan! Are you trying to say you’re gonna miss me?” He asks with comical tears in his eyes. Y/N immediately regrets speaking up.

“I think I might miss you the least.” Oikawa feigns hurt at the comment, but he knows his friend better than anybody. ‘I’ll miss you more than you could even imagine.’ Is what she’s trying to say.

“Oi. No more crying.” Hanamaki finally says something. He can see the tears forming at Oikawa’s eyes, and a few that already shed from Y/N’s, before he feels the familiar burning sensation in his throat. “Damn it.”

“Nothing’s gonna change. We’ll all keep in touch, plain and simple.” Matsukawa announces, almost as if he was sure of it. “And if anyone,” Iwaizumi adds, looking directly at Oikawa, “decides to be a dick and try to cut us off, we’ll all personally fly out to South America to kick his ass.” A chorus of ‘yes’ sounded out as Oikawa gasps at his friends’ reactions.

“Why does it always get violent with you, Iwa-chan?!” He whines like a child, causing an outburst of laughter from the other four.

Hanamaki notices Y/N staring off into space again before he sighs, placing an affectationate hand on her head. “Relax, loser. It’s not like we’re gonna totally forget Miyagi. If anything me and Issei are gonna come back home more than you think. You’ll get tired of us eventually.”

Y/N wipes a few stray tears and nods, finally showing a genuine smile. “I’ll kill all of you if you even try to forget about Miyagi.”

“Impossible.” Iwaizumi says with a gentle smile on his lips.

The next morning the five friends make their way to Narita Airport, where Oikawa’s flying off to Argentina to become a better player. Their eyes are bloodshot red from staying up all night crying and reminiscing old memories together.

The walk from the parking lot to the boarding gate is quiet, until Oikawa breaks the awkward air between them. “When I get back, I’ll wipe the court with Tobio-chan.”

“You’re still not over that? Grow up.” Y/N glares, suddenly remembering their childish fight during their last year of junior high. Hanamaki laughs first, followed by Matsukawa, and finally Iwaizumi. The people around them stare strangely as five teens laugh with tears streaming down their eyes.

“Try not to miss me too much, ‘k, Y/N-chan?” Oikawa winks, just barely dodging the fist swung at him. A boarding call for Oikawa’s flight fills the airport, and they finally remember why they’re there in the first place.

“I’ll miss you guys.” He finally says seriously, tears freely falling down his face. Y/N cracks first, flinging herself to his awaiting arms and cries as she realizes this is his goodbye. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi follow, forming a group hug in the middle of Narita Airport.

Oikawa pulls away, dragging a sleeve to wipe away his tears. He opens his mouth to say one final goodbye, but is interrupted by a plethora of voices overlapping each other,

“Try not to make your teammates hate you too much. Make some friends.”

“Don’t even think about calling me at midnight about your stupid problems.”

“If you come crying to me about your knee, I’m just gonna say I told you so.”

“Once you get back, I’ll be sure to give you hell.”

“Oi, what kind of curse are you all placing on me?!” Oikawa whines, the somber atmosphere replaced by their usual energetic one.

With one last ‘goodbye,’ Oikawa strides towards the airport gates, and away from the ones he’s grown to love over the years. He looks over his shoulders, taking a mental picture of all four of his closest friends waving and giving him nods of encouragement so that he’d never forget what he’ll always have back home.

The world can throw anything it wants at them, but as long as they had each other, nothing’s ever too scary or too tough.

A/N. Thank you for reading this totally self-indulgent fic with my fav third years! A Miya twins version of this fic is in the works! Also, I’m thinking of making a mini series off of this oneshot where you chose a route with one of the boys (romantically). Let me know if you guys would also be interested in that. - chuu

135 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 5 years

Text

Failed-Night Stand

Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: A one night stand with a handsome stranger that doesn’t really end up being a one night stand.

WARNINGS!: Has some spicy mentions, ages 14+ !

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k+

Just to Clarify:

(B/F/N) = best friend name

(Agency) = the hero agency, you get to choose because I can’t.

This is an adult!au, where everyone has graduated UA years ago

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

A deep inhale cuts through the muffled city-morning sounds of birds chirping and cars honking, tired eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal a room not at all yours. Light filtered in through the large, pristine window.

You slowly sat in a bed mind-blowingly comfortable, taking in the unfamiliar space. Nope. Definitely not yours. That was easy enough to tell, especially considering your room wasn’t light blue, nor were there walls lined with All Might figurines and assorted medals and trophies.

Confusion momentarily sat in your system, the haze of sleep still residing in your mind gradually dissipated as tiny gears shifted into motion.

Oh dear.

Groaning, you let your sitting form fall back against the bed with a soft thwump, letting your eyes slip back shut. It was pretty easy to tell what had happened last night, if your lack of clothes and the stale stench of sweat clinging to your body had anything to say about it.

An alcohol-induced one night stand.

With who? You couldn’t quite remember, despite the fact that the soreness in your throat came from screaming his name at some point in the night. It was impossible to even remember what took place, the last thing that you could recall happening was passionately kissing plump lips as large, warm hands traveled down exposed arms. One thing that you did remember, though, were his looks paired with an adorable personality. No doubt were they part of the reason you were here in the first place.

Judging from the lack of a person in bed and empty open bathroom connected with the room, he either left or was somewhere else in this apartment. You prayed for the first, not wanting to have another awkward encounter with someone you slept with the night before.

With a hum, you rolled out of bed, shakily getting to your feet. By god did it hurt to even stand, just how big and rough was this guy? He seemed like such a sweetheart.. Then again, most people lose themselves in the heat of the moment. It was quite flattering, really.

As you stumbled about the room, picking up and putting on the undergarments you wore last night, memories slowly came into your mind. Alcohol was such a funky thing, only allowing you to remember certain things off the get go and wait for more to trickle in or figure others out.

Luckily, or what seemed to be lucky anyway, the first was occurring.

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

The beat of drums pounded in your ears as you slurped at a cocktail, cringing at the almost addicting burn. Another Friday out late at a bar, drinking to soothe emotional cuts and bruises that manifested over the course of a particularly rough work week.

It’s always fun working late because your boss in an incompetent dick-wad.

Working in a hero agency is mostly everyone’s dream, but god were there always mountains of work and unreasonable deadlines.

The desire to drink and relax with friends overthrew your weak sense of judgement, knowing it’d be better to have just stayed home with your beloved cat than go out and potentially get a migraine from the music that was too damn loud.

Luckily this night didn’t turn into what they usually did, no guys have tried to get into your pants yet, more than likely from the choice to dress cozy and not sleazy. Who wants a tight fitting dress when you could have a comfy sweater?

“You’ll n-ever believe who I met toooodaayyy~” (B/F/N), who was a horrific lightweight, slurred with that goofy drunken smile that always brought a laugh out of you. It was just too funny, childish glee radiating from them whenever their conscious got seized by the devil's drink.

“Who?” chuckled Katsumi, someone you had met in college and gotten along well enough with to become friends and welcome into your pair, officially making it a group. Pretty sad how small it was. Perhaps you were all too picky with potential friends, who were you to complain though? It’s better being close to a select few then have an army of people you barely know, right?

(B/F/N)’s sweaty arm slithered behind your neck, bringing you closer to them as if to grasp onto their last bit of sanity before turning into an incomprehensible child to spew out their story.

“Ground~ Zerooo~! Can you believe it..? He’s soooo cut-e~”

“Yeah right!” Katsumi snorted, sipping at a fruity drink, something he was never afraid to order.

“I did..! Don’t you believe me, (Y/N)!”

Playfully, you tapped your chin with a finger, “Hmmm..”

The whine that you pulled from them was worth the act.

“I did! I did!” (B/F/N) felt the need to chant, arms raised high and face scrunched up in frustration. “Sure.”

“He smacked my ass!” They pouted,

Katsumi and you both shrieked with laughter, eyes watering from the no doubt large ass lie. My, how serious they looked too!

As if they’d ever meet a rising pro hero, the chances were too slim to even consider it. More than likely it was a weird dream they had but fought against it to make it seem real. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Couldn’t blame ‘em.

Going to take another sip of your drink, desperate to cool down your overheated body from the heat drifting off everyone and mixing into one big shit show,disappointment flooded your being to find it empty, nothing but melting ice left in the glass.

“I’m going to get another drink.” After getting a reluctant understanding nod from your friends, you stood up, waddling to the bar and plopping down on one of the highly used bar stools.

Surprisingly, it was cooler over here, no doubt from the many freezers resting near the bar to hold wine coolers, beer, and other assortment of drinks people liked to be cold. Ice could only do so much, especially when it melts faster than Olaf in front of that fire. Typically they lasted longer, but maybe time flew by without your comprehension of it doing so, causing the ice to melt faster than expected. It wasn’t fully melted, you’d give it that.

But that wasn’t to say it was all that pleasant, drunk off their mind young adults littered the other stools, shamelessly making out.

You huffed, unable to be one to talk on the account that you’ve personally been there before, much to your horror.

“What can I get you, (Y/N)?” Yokuto, the kind owner and barista of the bar in his mid fifties questioned, a small smile on his face at seeing one of his favorite customers. Has he mentioned that before? No. Did you believe it because you were somewhat narcissistic when tipsy? Yes.

“Mm..” Humming, (E/C) eyes looked over the large menu, “let’s go for an old fashioned.” A classic drink, good for giving you that delicious buzz without knocking you on your ass. Well, depending on how many you have that is. Hopefully that bite to eat before drinking tonight will do you a good service.

“Ah, look at you. Adventurous tonight, are we?” Yo teased, all too used to preparing you basic drinks.

“Shhshshshs.” You hushed him, not needing to go through the same conversation once a month despite it being one of the highlights of the night. Tonight would be relaxing, spent with your friends, boy were you determined to make that happ-

“Put it on my tab.” A man with a sweet yet deep voice interjected. Ah shit. Here we go.

You rubbed your temples, sighing. Of course this would happen when you didn’t want it to, that’s how it always works right? Can’t get laid when you want to, but suddenly everyone wants you the moment you’re not interested. ‘No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.. Maybe.. He’s just being nice!’ Your mind decided, internally desperate to be left alone.

“Very well, sir!” Chirped Yo. The fucker. I mean, at least you get a free drink?

That was always a plus, especially considering your student loans often times left very little money to buy such expensive drinks. Typically old fashions weren’t expensive, but it always depended on the bar you went to. Either way, ten bucks seemed over priced. Because of this, t’s like this man was a godsend, because no doubt this drink would’ve been the last your budget could’ve allowed.

Turning, you were just about to offer a ‘thank you’ before your voice caught in a dry throat. My, my, my, a godsend indeed, in more ways than one. This man was absolutely gorgeous!

Disco lights reflected off his shimmering emerald irises, soft looking curly green hair bouncing as he took a seat beside you. Lord, did you just want to touch it. Surely he was making big bucks, that much you could tell from his appearance alone. A suit too pristine and finely fitted to him to be bought from any old plain store, a watch large and complicated to match. His face was gorgeously sculpted, but still somehow managed to have chubby cheeks leftover from childhood, skin clearer than a piece of paper. Not only that, but those faded freckles dusting his cheeks were the cutest thing imaginable, his smile--- his smile? Why was he smiling? Not that it mattered considering angels were singing around it, the golden glow of heaven behind his head,

“Hey?” Sound re-entered your ears upon seeing his kissable lips move, ah shit has he been speaking this entire time? And you just zoned out?! Fuckfuckfuck-

“H-hi..” You stuttered, currently too tipsy to feel all too embarrassed about it. “Thank you uh, for the drink..” It was hard to keep such an overactive mind focused on talking and not making yourself look like a fool in front of someone ten times out of your league. Hell, were you even trying to be in his league? A calm night, right? No hullabaloo.

“No problem!!” His eyes shifted around the bar, smile now nervous as a light blush coated his cheeks, “I just.. Uh..”

It was almost impossible not to coo at the adorable sight in front of you.

He glanced back, your gaze following his own to a group sat at a table meters away, all holding men giving him a thumbs up. Now just what was that about?

Without giving it too much thought, you grabbed your drink and took a sip, patiently waiting for the mystery man to finish his thought.

“You’re just.. Really cute.. And I um.. Wanted to get to know you a bit..?” He stuttered out, gnawing on his plump bottom lip, the bastard. How dare he say and do something so enticing? Clearly without meaning to as well. Or perhaps this was his tactic all along, not that you were entirely beginning to mind.

Besides, he did buy you a drink, what’s the harm in chatting for a bit?

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Funny how chatting led you to a handsome man's apartment and unable to remember parts of the night. Were you complaining? Absolutely not. It was easy to admit that last night certainly helped bring your week to a nice ending, but the intense ache between your legs almost wasn’t worth it.

It was just then that the appetizing smell of bacon wafted under the bedroom door, or perhaps it was always there but you were too caught up in your own world to realize it. Regardless, your mouth watered, tummy rumbling from lack of food, but surely it wasn’t for you.

It was funny how he was still here, though you should expect as much since this was his place and it was a Saturday.

Perhaps once you find your purse, you could grab breakfast at a Denny’s or something..

A shriek followed by violent coughing tore through your throat as the door suddenly opened, the savory smell of breakfast food hitting you full force.

Not allowing yourself the time to look at him, you turned around, “Ah s-sorry.. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute..”

Gah. He must be pissed that you’re still here. Forgetting about sulking, you took a step towards your discarded sweater, violently cringing at the awkward angle and pain. By no means were you a virgin, so the only way this could have happened was if the guy was absolutely humongous and rough as shit. Not like your lust-filled self would’ve minded.

“Wait wait! Ah, sit down! You’re in pain!”

“Wha?” The clang of a tray being set down and dishes rattling echoed in the room as you were suddenly pushed back onto the bed.

“Wh-what are you-?!” You were shushed as a glass of water pressed against your dry lips,

“Here, drink this. It’s water!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes absentmindedly trailing up muscular arms all the way to his worried face.

This all seemed a bit too suspicious, never having been treated so kindly after a one night stand. Well, so far ‘kindly’ was a bit of a stretch but at least you now had something to finally moisten your screaming throat.

Eagerly wrapping a hand around the cold glass, you chugged like your life depended on it, which it probably did considering how dehydrated you felt.

It was almost as if the water cleared your head more, for memories hit you like a freight train. Nervous touches, untrained yet gentle hands, sweet moans filtering through your ear, the pure ecstasy of last night. Your face flushed, teeth grinding slightly as you fought off the memories to actually look as professional as you could, as you were currently only in your undies.

“I. um.. I figured you would need some since you were..ah..”

Amusement flooded your being watching him suddenly turn red, his eyes trailing over your barely clothed body before whipping away to the other wall. What a gentleman. At least you remembered his name now, on the account of praising it last night. Midoriya Izuku. Cute.

Gulping down the last sip of water, you were dead set on teasing him, curious to see what reaction you’d get. Even though now and before he seemed like a shy baby, which he probably is, you remembered clearly how dominating and hot he was. “Screaming and moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Gahh!” He shoved his red face in a pillow he grabbed, incoherent mumbling escaping the crevices of it.

Oh how precious he is. It was unusual to see an adult act this way, but it certainly was welcomed with open arms.

His head shot up, realization crossing his features. “Ah! You’re in pain right? I’m really sorry..” Guilt sunk in his shimmering mesmerizing eyes, sunlight bouncing off them from the open curtain adjacent to the bed. “I was.. I lost myself last night and was a bit too.. rough with you. I’m sorry. Really, I am..”

He was apologizing..? This was new, but it sure did feel nice.

Just as you were about to speak, he picked up the tray beside him on the floor and plopped it into your lap.

“I uh! I made you breakfast-! The pill is a standard ibuprofen for the pain.”

It was as if his voice was made of honey from how sweet and smooth it was, the pure innocence of it wrapping around your body in a warm blanket.

How refreshing it was, but..

A teasing smile made its way to your lips,

“You’re new to this whole one night stand thing, aren’t you?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, the flustered man clearly trying to form a sentence in his head.

“I-I- I.. N-no um..”

Humming, you took the pill, washing it down with water before you cut off a piece of pancake, tugging it off the fork and into your mouth and almost moaning at the flavor.

Sighing in defeat, he pouted up at you, “How can you tell..?”

You licked your lips slowly, marveling at the way his eyes followed its movement, “One night stands don’t usually involve breakfast in bed.”

“Well.”

He stood up, moving to sit next to you, awkwardly patting his thighs as you munched on a piece of crispy bacon. “I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t just be a one night stand.”

Confusion contorted your face, “You want another round? I wouldn’t be opposed-”

“No!” He interjected hands waving frantically as his face burned a vibrant vermillion.

“I meant like..! Like me taking you out on a proper date or something..! I.. I don’t want this just to end..”

“What do you mean?”

“I like you.”

“...huh?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, praying to every god out there that he didn’t sound like a major creep. He wasn’t! You both just so happened to work in the same building, and his eyes just always naturally pick you out in a crowd, sometimes drifting to you when in the same room or passing by. Granted, he’s in his hero costume then where his secret identity is sealed from the public. It sure would be nice to tell you who he truly was, but he couldn’t let his cover be blown. Even if he did like you, trust was something no longer so easily gained after having the career he did. He’s seen what happened to people like Shoto and Tenya, he had no intention of having ever part of his personal life blown up like theirs. And so, he would stay hidden behind a green and silver mask.

The dilemma at hand, though, was telling you of his affections without seeming like a creep they’ve never seen before, which he probably would anyway considering you had no idea he was Deku.

It was actually a pretty lucky thing he had no merchandise of himself, in his home out in plain view that would give himself away. True, he had no idea he’d be lucky enough to take you home, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about it. You both had been drinking, and before he knew it, you were beneath him in his bed.

He was a lucky man to have been able to get you there in the first place, but you seemed interested enough in him. Truthfully, he was scared you’d immediately leave upon waking up, wanting nothing to do with him like he’s always heard from his friends and their one night stand experiences. It was nice that you actually stayed and ate the breakfast he spent far too long on.

Here goes nothing.

“I’ve actually noticed you around work for a while now. You’re so reliable and kind to your co-workers, always the goofball cracking jokes to pass time.. Last night, my friends encouraged me to finally talk to you.”

Wait! He sounded like a total stalker just now didn’t he! Gah! You look like you think he’s a creep! Fuck! He probably is isn’t he! No! He isn’t- oh no,,

“N-not that I’m stalking you I swear! We just happened to be at the same bar at the same time..! I had no idea it would lead to this..”

What a word vomit. It was endearing, really. You couldn’t help but giggle, he was just so cute.

The giggling only made him blush harder, hands quickly going down to grasp at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit he picked up somewhere along the line.

“It’s okay~” You sang, immensely happy to know someone actually likes you and desperate to calm him down a bit, despite having no idea who this handsome stranger was. By god wait that sounded kind of creepy.

It’s not like you needed to know a stranger well to sleep with them, but it sure did peak your interests to know he was a fellow co-worker at a hero agency.

“Thank you for the food, by the way.” You took another bite of fluffy pancakes, turning to look at him again, “So you work at (Agency)’s too? I’ve never seen you around before.”

You always had a knack for noticing almost everyone, and you pride yourself on knowing the majority of people considering you’ve been working there for three years now. It was strange, surely you’d notice such a strong stud.

Wait.

“Oh! You’re a hero, aren’t you? Those scars and muscles, paired with the fact that I've never seen you before, you must be?”

Shock slapped his face. Bingo.

“Heh. I knew it!”

That victorious smile that graced your lips immediately died off once you noticed him clearly internally freak out. He looked like he was about to pass out, eyes wide and pupils shrunk, mouth shakily trying to speak.

This certainly wasn’t how you wanted this to play out, but beggars can’t be choosers?

“H-hey calm down..! I don’t know who your hero persona is, if that helps!”

Geeze, you pulled yourself into a mess, didn't you?

Lips pulled into a worried straight line as you tried to calm him down by rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh! Ok, good! Ah..” He breathed a sigh of relief out his nose, chuckling bashfully, “That’s a relief.. I don’t think you’d be even the slightest bit interested in me if you knew the other guy first.”

It was hard to tell if this meant he had a completely different personality when in the suit, or if he just all around dislikes his normal self. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it would at all be the first option. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to prefer being their hero-sona rather than, well, them. ‘Confidence comes from the ability to impress and protect people!’ You recalled one hero exclaiming on the screen when that topic popped up late one night on a talk show interview.

It was sad to see such great people felt that way.

“Well. I don’t need the other guy. I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s possible, Midoriya.”

His face instantly brightened, that beautiful smile from last night resurfacing, the light from that window making it look like a halo formed around his head. Which wouldn’t be too weird considering he was practically an angel already.

“R-Really?!” He excitedly asked, sparkles dancing in his eyes at the implications.

“Yes-”

“Then how about I take you on a date today then!! I know this really great restaurant and they sell these cheesy biscuits..!”

You would’ve gotten whiplash if you hadn’t already been expecting this. You smiled sweetly at him.

“I’d love that.”

Thus started your relationship with Izuku, unknowingly the bright pro her, Deku.

“But uh.. Can I get changed now..? And I need to call my friends-”

“Ah! Right! Yes, of course! Sorry-”

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #this is a mess oops #deku x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #deku bnha x reader #izuku x reader

529 notes · View notes

mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 4 years

Text

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter two

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more liveable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader (FT. Best Friend! Seo Changbin) AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ Angst Word Count: 4,7K Warnings: Themes of bullying, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults. Requested: Yes (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story, but for imagines purposes only. We all know better than that.

Chan was currently ranting to the principal at how this was more of a punishment to him than it was to anyone else. “I can’t get through her! Even with my motivational speeches!” He cried in frustration to the adult in front of him.

‘Motivational speech my ass.’ Y/n thought to herself as she rolled her eyes.

“…I’ve done nothing wrong to deserve something like-“ “Mister Bang, enough. I’m not used to this behaviour from your side.” The woman said sternly, making Chan sit back down with a huff. “You’re one of our top-class students and you are getting A’s in every class. You’re the perfect candidate to tutor miss Y/l/n and help her earn her diploma.” “But what is it in for me-“ Chan began, but was cut off once again by the principal. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now Mister Bang. I expect that you, as the vice president of your class and year, will help this girl out.”

Y/n could hear the denigration in her voice and she sighed and threw her a fake smile. In the end, Chan would groan and agree to tutor Y/n, but only because the principal told him to. If Y/n were to come to him herself, he would refuse to. He knew that Y/n was stubborn and didn’t listen to what anyone had to say. He thought that she was just awful and she wouldn’t be a good partner to work with.

The two sighed and rolled their eyes at each other after they’ve left the principal’s office. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you. You should’ve gotten a grasp with stuff like this” He would say before he took out his notebook and scribbling down something. He made a list of dates and subjects before pushing the paper into Y/n’s hands.

“These are the days that I’m available, meet me in the library at the agreed time. I don’t have time to change it for you, so you better adjust to it. Now, I have to go to class now. I don’t know about you, but since it’s looking pretty bad for you, I would advise you to follow me.” He snarled before walking off and to his surprise, her following behind him. He heard her fiddle the paper into her pocket as they walked their way through the hallways to their classroom.

All eyes were on them as soon as they walked into the room together.

“Mister Bang, Miss Y/l/n, I’m glad you’re here. Take a seat and open your books on page ninety.” The teacher said before continuing to teach, even though the rest of the students were eye the pair that just walked in together, without scratching each other’s eyes out. The fact that they couldn’t get along was clear, but seeing them walk in just like that was a shock to all of them.

Sooyun was glaring at Y/n, feeling herself turn green from jealousy. She really didn’t want anyone else but herself to be around Chan, when it came to females. She thought that Y/n wasn’t a threat, but it seemed like she had ‘underestimated’ her, as so she thought to herself.

As Sooyun continued to glare at Y/n, she started to laugh to herself. Y/n’s hair was down and messy, she had an earphone hidden behind her hair, so the teacher wouldn’t see, and was staring outside. Sooyun smirked to herself, knowing that Y/n wasn’t competition after all, she wouldn’t stand a chance against the qualities and skill she owned compared to Y/n.

As Y/n was listening to her music, she suddenly was scared out of her mind when a notebook was slammed next to her. She looked up to see Chan sitting down next to her. Y/n eyed him in confusion and asked him what he was doing. “If you would’ve listened to what the teacher has said, you would know that she told us to find a partner and help each other with the following exercises. And since I’m tutoring you after all, why not start now.” Chan sighed uninterested before focussing on his textbook.

Sooyun had no idea what was happening, since she as well didn’t listen to whatever the teacher just said. All she knew was that Chan was giving his attention to some bitch and not to her. The green vision blurred Sooyun’s eyes once again, whilst she glared away once again to where Y/n was sitting. Immediately people around the two started to whisper and eye them as well, but the both of them choose to ignore it.

Whilst Chan was talking about the problem they had to solve, Y/n couldn’t help but stare a little at him. She wondered if there was something behind his current actions.

Was he trying to mess with her? Was he trying to lure her into a filthy trap that would end up in her being beaten up by some idiotic kids? Or was he actually trying to act nice and help her.

Y/n shook her head and remembered that the principal basically forced him to, that he was pretty blunt and rude about the available tutor dates, so she suspected that he was just annoyed by her as usual. Especially since he was pretty much forced into the situation.

She pushed her train of thoughts away and tried to focus on the exercises.

“…I swear, the principal has something evil meaning for this-“ “And I swear if I hear one more thing about Y/n I will have do something evil.” Minho groans. “You’re doing it again Chan.” Jisung mutters. “Doing what?” Chan asks oblivious, making the other three groan in frustration.

“Are you sure you aren’t crushing on her? It sure seems like she’s constantly on your mind.” “Of course I’m not. Why would I like someone like her. She’s no good and we all know that.” Chan states as he angrily sipped on his juice. Felix seemed like he wanted to say something but eventually minded his own business and kept staring at his phone. “And you really don’t think that she doesn’t like you? I mean all the girls already fell for you, it wouldn’t surprise me if she became one of them as well.” Minho smirked. “Do you really think she likes me?” Chan asks. “I mean, she keeps getting in trouble, now you’re assigned to tutor her. There must be something more going on here, right?”

Chan wouldn’t ever think that Y/n liked him. Yes, he had to admit that somewhere in their shared childhood, there was a period where he was quite attracted to her. She never was actually ugly like everyone seemed to call her. Her hair complimented her face nicely and the wild hairdo made her look different from the other girls, as cheap as it sounded, it was true.

But through the years and acts of disinterest, he never thought back on those innocent, child-like emotions he felt back then.

The day ended rather fast for Chan, he had no meetings and his rehearsals were tomorrow. So he packed his bag and walked his way home. It was quite the walk, but he didn’t mind. The sun was shining brightly and it was nice and warm weather for a spring day.

‘These are the days that I’m available, meet me in the library at the agreed time. I don’t have time to change it for you, so you better adjust to it. Now, I have to go to class now. I don’t know about you, but since it’s looking pretty bad for you, I would advise you to follow me.’

The harsh words played in Chan’s mind like a mantra. He cringed to himself as he regretted snarling like that to Y/n. There was no need to. Yes, he was pissed, but she was in this situation with him. It wasn’t like this was actually about him. He wanted to slap himself for being such a twat, but he also couldn’t find it in himself to call her up and apologise, like a decent human being would.

Chan groans once again as he saw that the way to his apartment was blocked off due road constructions. Now he had to walk all the way around to his apartment. And he was even more bummed out when he realised that he would have to make his way through the ‘Yellow Wooden St’. The block was known to be problematic and the people who lived there weren’t in the best circumstances and it wouldn’t be weird if someone felt uncomfortable walking through it, someone like Chan. A guy with quite some money and an expensive laptop stuffed in his backpack.

He took a deep breath before he started to walk again. The ‘conversation’ he and Y/n had earlier once again popped up into his mind. There also would be no way for Chan to contact Y/n, he didn’t had her number. Certainly, he wasn’t going to ask her for it out of the blue, his ego was too big for that for some reason. The disadvantaged area, Chan was walking through, gave him the chills.

People were yelling and screaming. Out of one of the houses, there could be glass shattering against a wall be heard. Chan’s head shot towards the noise and he notices an old ‘fallen’ house. The paint was peeling off, but there was an attracting rose tree in the middle of the garden that was set in bloom. He admired the beauty of it, until he heard another crash and a man yelling gibberish loudly, making Chan snap out of his train of thoughts and keep on walking.

Chan’s parent’s never wanted their son to travel through area’s like this. Because they didn’t know what type of people lived there. They didn’t wanted to sound prejudiced, but they just couldn’t help but feel that way. Chan may have been in that area before, when he was very young, but he wouldn’t remember any other time.

This was one of those moments where Chan would be frustrated with himself. ‘I should’ve taken the car.’ He would sigh as he had another twenty minutes to walk, thanks to the road constructions.

He was glad and relieved when he finally exited the disadvantaged area and was close to his own neighbourhood. Chan felt bad for the people at ‘Yellow Wood’ as people like to call it. They sometimes were forced into a bad circumstance and end up with nothing. He also felt his chest tighten for some reason, he couldn’t come up with an explanation, the bothering and almost suffocating feeling was just there. He tried to shake it off as soon as he walked into his home.

He greeted his family and gave pets to his dog, before disappearing into his room, thinking that music would be something that would make him feel better. He then got a text from Changbin, asking when he was coming to the ‘studio’, which in reality was just Changbin’s place. Chan wanted to get out so he told his friend that he was right on his way.

It was the next morning and Chan was outside of the library, waiting for Y/n to arrive for their tutoring session.

“I can’t believe this girl. It’s past seven O’clock. I could’ve been asleep right now, she’s still not here?” Chan muttered annoyed as he tapped his feet, to show that he was getting (more) impatient. What he didn’t expect was the doors to swung open, revealing a rather tired looking Y/n who looked at Chan in confusion. Him, still trying to catch his breath from the jump scare, looked back at Y/n in confusion. “What- You were here already?” He asked when his breath steadied. “Yeah, C’mon in. It’s chilly.” She says before disappearing again. Chan didn’t hesitate to follow her and smiled slightly when the warmth of the indoors atmosphere greeted him.

“How come you’re here so early?” Chan asked her, still confused as hell. “I don’t know, I just was here.” She responded with a yawn. “What, did you spend the night here?” He scoffed jokingly, which soon turned into a confused ‘huh’, when Y/n hummed a yes in responds.

Chan didn’t bother to ask any further and went to work as soon as they sat down. Both of them were kind of laying onto the table as they tried to work this tutoring session out. Chan was surprised at how serious she actually was, even though she didn’t look like it, at all. There were no snappy comebacks, no insults, no fighting and Chan was glad that she didn’t do that to him so early in the morning. She noticed his confusion and told him: “It’s because I’m tired as hell, don’t get used to it.”

Chan was yet again surprised when Y/n actually worked out the exercises on her own. When she didn’t understand, he would point out the main problem and then, she just got it. It blew his mind away. It made him think back about the comment Minho said. ‘Maybe she is doing this because she likes me.’ Chan thought to himself.

When she finished up all of her exercises and they were all correct as well, after he had revised them. He couldn’t help but feel bewildered.

Why would she need his help?

These exercises were final exam level and she just finished them, just like that. She seemed to understand everything.

He wasn’t going to ask, because she must’ve known the answers beforehand, right?

When it was nine o’clock, the two headed to class and Y/n would return to her ‘normal’ self. Chan now was wondering to himself what was fake. The whole ‘mysterious delinquent’ act, or the ‘nice, kind Y/n at tutoring’ act. He had just seen a whole different side of her and he was just too shocked by it, that he was even absentminded that day. He didn’t notice Sooyun touching and clinging onto him, not that she minded. She was actually quite glad, since Chan wasn’t really affectionate towards her.

His friends also seemed to notice the change in behaviour of their friend. When he wouldn’t even responds to them calling him, they knew he was far gone. “…he just keeps staring at her as well. I really think there is something going on between those two.” Minho suspected as he looked back and forth between Chan and Y/n. “Who are you talking about?” Sooyun asks curiously, earning a groan from Minho. “None of your business.” He muttered back, turning away from her. She would simply huff and rest her head on Chan’s shoulder.

“Channie, where were you this morning? I came to your place, so we could walk to school together, but your parents said you were gone already.” She tried to ask cutely as she fiddled with them fabric of his shirt. Chan didn’t even hear or notice her presence. Y/n seemed to have clouded his mind and he was trying to find a way to make it stop.

He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t focus on what the teacher was trying to tell him and besides all of that he now felt this girl clinging onto him as if he was her favourite stuffed animal.

He pushed her gently off and started to write down the notes the teacher had written down, which he also didn’t notice until now. Sooyun could only huff yet again as she pouted and rested her chin on her hand. Instead of writing down the teacher’s notes, she was wondering who was on Chan’s mind, because it was clearly not her.

Chan’s day finally ended. He had countless meetings, which he hated to attend as vice president and his swimming training fortunately just ended and now it was time for him to go home. He greeted his friends goodbye before he made his way to his locker to collect his stuff. His hair was still damp and smelled like chlorin. As Chan walked by the music room, he noticed that the door was cracked open. He couldn’t help but stop and peek to see who was inside, maybe it was Misses Yu who always had great music advice for him.

But he was dazed when he saw Y/n sitting behind a piano, a teacher’s laptop in front of her and papers surrounding her that looked like music sheets. Chan didn’t notice that he had walked into the room, until he made eye contact with Y/n who jumped in shock by Chan’s sudden presence. He didn’t hear her ask what he was doing here, which left him looking like a freak as he just stared at her. Yet, in reality, he was wondering what she was playing, because it sounded very familiar. He just could barely make out what song it was, since he heard too little of it.

“I know I’m not supposed to be here after school, no need to scold me. I’m not in the mood for that. Besides misses Yu said that it was fine, using her music room, so no need to snitch on me.” She sighed as she picked up her stuff and brushed pass him. Chan was still speechless, the notes that she played were still repeating themselves into his mind. Besides them sounding familiar, they sounded warm and romantic. Almost as if it was a love song out of a movie.

As soon as he snapped out of his wandering thoughts, he spun around and went to follow her, but when he arrived outside, she had already hopped on her motor and left. Chan sighed to himself and went to his car to go home, not bothering to walk all the way back to his locker.

Whilst driving, he still couldn’t help but wonder what made him hate her. He was a douchebag to her, he couldn’t deny, but besides that, he had no idea. He was curious and just wanted to know.

“Wow what the fuck!” Chan yelled when he suddenly saw Changbin laying ‘seductively’ and quite on his bed with the lights earlier turned off and an evil smirk. “You’ve returned home Christopher.” He whispered in a creepy voice, making Chan’s body shiver. “Please stop that. I will throw your small ass out of the window.” “Alright, I’ll stop. What’s up?” “Nothing much, how about you?” Chan asked as he put his stuff away. “Nothing much either. Oh! I can’t stay too long by the way. I have plans tonight.” Changbin announced as he laid back on Chan’s bed. “Does someone has a date?” Chan asks with wiggling eyebrows.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Changbin scoffed, throwing one of the pillows to Chan’s face. “No, I have this friend who has some problems. So I’m helping out a little.” “Ah I see.” Chan murmured, sounding uninterested in his friend as his mind wandered off for the umpteenth time that day. “What is up with you, Jisung already told me that you have been away from this world all day? Is there someone perhaps on your mind?” Changbin teased with wiggling eyebrows, earning a groan from Chan. “Now you’re even sounding like them.” He muttered under his breath, making his younger friend laugh.

“Then there must be a sense of truth if everyone is saying it.” Changbin smirked, but instead of Chan saying something. He pulled out his gear and started to work on some music, which he went to Changbin’s place for, instead of being bothered and teased by yet another one of his friends.

“Have you made some new melodies yet?” Chan asked Bin, who started tp wander off with his productiveness after hours of basically staring at their computer screens. “I’m stuck. I can’t concentrate.” Changbin exclaimed. “Me neither.” Chan sighed. “I’ve noticed. I mean, you’re used to seeing me procrastinating, but I’ve never seen you so off.” “Yeah, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” Chan responded whilst rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

‘I’m blaming you Y/n.’ He said to himself as he sighed.

Suddenly, the doorbell was heard through the apartment and the two exchanged a confused look. Chan went to see who it was, because Jisung had plans with Felix today, meaning he wasn’t able to come to produce. ‘Maybe Felix ditched him again?’ Chan wondered. But to his surprise, but not really, here Sooyun was, standing in front of him.

“Hi Channie!” She chirped as she invited herself inside. “Sooyun what are you-“ “I brought you some food! I thought that we could have some dinner together! I do have to refry it, so you just sit and I-“ “Sooyun, you’re not coming at a pleasant time. I’m busy.” Chan stated in annoyance. “But you should take at least a break! I made you your favourite! We could sit on the couch and listen to some music! I can even make you some desert, I found this new recipe-“ “Sooyun, really. Your intentions are meant well, but I don’t want anyone else, besides Changbin around right now, okay?” “But-“ “Please go. We’ll do this another time I guess.” He sighed, not wanting to deal with her right now.

That’s not what she heard though. ‘We’ll do this another time.’ Was the only thing that was currently repeating itself through her mind. “That’s fine! We’ll make it a date! Text me when you’re free!” She winked as she chirped a goodbye whilst leaving the place. Without being even able to argue back, she was already gone.

Chan closed the door tiredly before returning to his bedroom, where Changbin was already packing up his stuff. “I have to go home, my mom and my friend are probably waiting for me already, since it’s nine o ‘clock as well.” Bin yawned before hugging his friend goodbye as well, leaving Chan all alone. His family wasn’t coming home until late, so here Chan was once again, with his mind wandering off.

Y/n not able to leave his mind.

In the meantime, Changbin had already arrived back home and he was greeted by laughter that was heard from the kitchen area. He smiled to himself, because he knew how much his mother loved his friend. She even asked him if he hadn’t had any romantic feelings towards her.

He admitted that he had a huge soft spot for her, but he’s never been in love with her, romantically. He was in love with her compassion, her kindness and many other traits she owned, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he loved her in a romantic way.

“Hi mom!” He said with a smile as he went to greet his mother. “Hello dear, how did the producing go?” She asks after she regained her breath from laughing so much. “It went fine, we didn’t got too much done. Anyway, hi Dumpling.” Changbin chuckled as he rubbed his cheek onto hers cutely. “How did you know we made dumplings for dinner- they’re in the oven?” His mother asks confused, making Bin and Y/n laugh. “No, mom I meant Y/n. I call her ‘Dumpling’, because she has cute cheeks.” He giggled. “Yeah, and he’s my Rat Tat, it’s self-explanatory.” She teased, sticking out her tongue as well, making Changbin dramatically act hurt. “This is how I’m treated mother, every single day.” He ‘cried’ out to her. “You must’ve deserved it.” She teased, making Y/n squeal in laughter, earning a huff from her best friend.

“Alright, alright. Safe the rest of the chit chat for later, let’s set up the table and eat!” His mother chirped before getting the food ready.

“So, how is CB97 doing?” She asked her best friend. For some reason Changbin never called Chan by his real name when he was with Y/n. Because one, he was rarely mentioned. Two, Y/n only knew ‘Chan’ from Changbin’s perspective as ‘CB97’, also known as his producing partner. And lastly, it honestly never came to Changbin’s mind to mention ‘CB97’s’ real name, which was Chan.

Who also happened to be the twat vice president Y/n has always been complaining about, who also never thought about mentioning Chan’s name to that title.

“He’s doing well, I guess. He was a little weird today, but, when isn’t he?” He laughed. “Did you make something new?” She added. “Well, we made some new lyrics, but I couldn’t come up with a new melody.” He sighed as he sat back in his chair. “Well, lucky for you! I finished your last melody!” She clapped her hands excitedly as she went to grab her bag, Changbin’s eyes following her in expectation. When she went to sit behind the keyboard Changbin owned and started to play, her best friend listened attentive to the beautiful warm melody his friend had come up with.

“That was beautiful.” He exclaimed. “When I said that I could help you with your music, I didn’t lie Bin.” She chuckled as she handed the music sheets to Changbin. “It’s a bummer that you can’t practice more.” “I know, I was at misses Yu’s music room today, and our vice president ‘caught’ me and kind of kicked me out.” “He did? But don’t you have permission to play there?” Changbin ask confused. “I know and he did, but also kind of didn’t since I walked out myself. I wasn’t feeling like getting scolded for the fourth time that day.” She sighed as she laid back on her friend’s bed. “What now?” He asked before preparing himself for rant from his friend.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been feeling weird lately.” Was all she said to Changbin’s surprised. “What’s on your mind then?” “That’s the thing, I don’t know. A lot happened these days and I don’t know how to process it first of all and I also don’t really know what to do with all of this.” She sighed. “What happened?” He added. “Well, the principal made me take tutoring classes, with my annoying vice president as my tutor, which he flipped over and it was very dramatic and pretty much not worth it. But I still will have to do it, otherwise I won’t get my diploma and you know how much I want to get out of this place.” She ranted, earning a nod from her friend who was listening to every word patiently.

“And well, he said some really low stuff and I was so taken aback by them at first that I didn’t know what to say and well, I don’t know. Here we are I guess?”

“Whatever that twat has told you Dumpling. You’re doing great! Your skills in music, first of all have developed so much, the music industry doesn’t know what will hit him.” Changbin joked as he went to sit next to her beside her legs.

“Thanks Rat Tat-“ “Way to ruin the moment,” He muttered as he stood up. She whined and grabbed his leg and pulled him back down, so that he was now laying next to her. Y/n hugged his side and held him tightly. “Thanks Binnie, you always know what to say.” She whispered sweetly. “Your welcome Y/n.” He whispered back as he returned the hug.

The two would lay there for some longer before Changbin offered to play some video games and to order some midnight snacks, which were usually French fries and chicken, even though the two of them just ate.

The person who lost the most Mario Cart rounds had to pay for all of them. But even though Y/n lost, Changbin wanted to cheer her up and paid for the food and he even secretly ordered her favourite boba, earing himself yet another bone crushing hug.

But it was all worth it, she was his best friend after all.

Gif isn’t mine.

211 notes · View notes

like-the-wings-of-butterflies · 5 years

Text

This Moment In Time (Racetrack Higgins x Reader)

Summary: Upon moving into your first apartment with Race, you’re reminded of the moments that led you to where you are

Warnings: Some mild angst quickly followed by sweet sweet fluff because I’m an absolute sucker for it

Word Count: 2,244 (this is longer then any of my usual stuff wtf)

A/N: I KNOW I’M A QUEEN BLOG BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS AND DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SETTING UP ANOTHER BLOG TO POST IT SO ENJOY SOME OF MY OTHER FANDOM NONSENSE

A.K.A - I rewatched Newsies for the upteenth time (god bless you disney +) and it sparked an idea which is only a tiny little bit self indulgent

Feedback and comments are always appreciated! ♡

“So this is it.” You breathed into the darkened room, a smile dancing on your lips.

Race placed the burning candle in the centre of the one room apartment before rising to his feet again and grasping hold of your hand. The gentle flickering glow revealed that the small apartment. It was neglected to say the least, paint peeling from the walls, dust-encased windows and the odd squeaking floorboard; certainly a step up from the lodging house however. “I know it ain’t what we were dreamin’ of, not even close, but it’s-“

“It’s got a roof and it’s got you,” You finished for him, squeezing his hand in assurance with an honest smile despite him barely being able to see through the darkness. “It’s perfect. Nothin’ a bit of cleanin’ won’t fix.”

Truly, you couldn’t help but fall for the mess that was Racetrack Higgins. When you first showed up on the doorstep of the lodging house at the age of 13, it was Race that volunteered to take you under his wing and teach you the fine art that was selling newspapers. Staying as his selling partner permanently wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either was becoming one another’s best friend, but the pair of you couldn’t imagine selling with anyone else; having grown too accustomed to each other’s company.

He’d always flirt with you - as he would with every other person who’d give him the time of day— flattering you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines at every opportunity. You’d flirt back of course, not being able to resist the handsome blonde’s charm, but at the cost of catching feelings; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a childhood crush steadily emerged, turning the heads of the other newsboys.

But as the years progressed, you both matured into young adults. Your experiences bringing you closer together as you grew fonder of one another day by day.

Never in your entire life did you think you’d be living anywhere else but the crumbling walls of the lodging house or in one of New York’s damp alleyways. Yet here you were, hand-in-hand with your fiancé, settling into your first home together. Many were shocked that you were engaged at such a young age, but neither of you could truly see yourselves without the other in your life. Now too old to live in the lodging house, Race ironically managed to find work operating printing presses, and you as a server at Jacobi’s. In a unlikely twist of fate, you managed to earn enough money to move into the small apartment and support yourselves, all while keeping a close eye on the other Newsies.

“Should we check out the penthouse?” Race grinned ear to ear, running to the window upon your nod. He wrestled with the frame for moment before it opened with a satisfying ‘crack’ that echoed through the apartment, before stepping out onto the fire escape.

“M’lady~“ Race offered his outstretched hand with a charming smile, helping you step onto the raised surface. Your breath hitched as you saw the landscape in your surrounds. You were about four floors up which made the view expansive, and you suddenly became keenly aware of how many beautiful sunrises you’d be able to watch from your current position. You’d been in Jack’s penthouse on a couple occasions, but never just to sit and admire the view.

“How the hell did we make it here Racer?” You breathed in awe as you watched lights and lampposts decorate the otherwise dull streets of New York, like little stars in a blackened sky.

Race wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a sweet embrace, your back pressed against his chest and his head resting on your shoulder, “I was just the prettiest Newsie you’s had ever seen and you’s couldn’t help but fall for me,” He teased, pressing a long kiss against the side of your neck as he giggled lightly to himself.

“You don’t think growin’ up or working together our whole lives had anythin’ to do with it?” You jested back, reaching a hand behind you to fiddle with the curls upon his head as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace.

“Absolutely not. But the strike?” He mused thoughtfully, “That’s when I realised I loved you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was no surprise waking up to Race sitting on the cold floorboards beside your bunk the night after the strike had been announced. Your beds weren’t too far from one another and Race always slept lightly, often being the call of comfort whenever anyone was having nightmares. He gently shook you awake while brushing away the tears that stained your face, smiling lightly once your eyes opened.

“What’s goin’ on Doll?,” He whispered out, careful not to wake the others, “Why you’s havin’ nightmares?”

“I’m scared what we’re doin’ is gonna get us all hurt,” You croaked out into the darkness, doing your best to hold back a sob. “That we’s gonna end up in the Refuge.” Nobody was oblivious to the chances of the strike ending in violence, the stakes were high; you were only a group of kids fighting against one of the most powerful men in New York after all.

Race’s hand stilled on the side of your face, his warm palm flat against your cheek grounding you and bringing you a sense of comfort. He could see in your eyes just how scared you were.

“I’m scared too,” He admitted before pausing, seemingly collecting his thoughts, “But we’s gonna be okay. Jack and Davey are smart, they’s know what they’re doin’.” He vowed, taking hold of one of your hands and rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

You both sat in silence for quite some time, both too distracted by your thoughts swirling around your heads. As you felt your eyelids growing heavy, you lightly tugged on Race’s arm who brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“Stay with me?” You queried, eyes hopeful.

Without so much as a second thought, he lifted the thin sheet covering your body before sliding into the small bed, his chest pressed against your back, “Anythin’ for you (Y/N).”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, when the bulls attacked, you were an absolute mess; much like the others. In such a short amount of time, your entire world had flipped upside down and everything was shrouded in a new sense of seriousness.

Of the entire group, Davey, Mush, Albert and yourself had come out relatively unscathed - save for a couple bruises - meaning you’d been tasked with patching up the others who weren’t as lucky. You’d just finished tying up Les’ arm into a sling, only as a temporary measure however, just to stop the energetic boy from exercising it too much until he got home. You bargained on the fact that Mrs Jacobs would have a far better fix to his seemingly broken arm, knowing that if worst came to worst, the family could afford a doctor.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You grinned softly as you walked towards Race in the back corner of the lodging house, shrouding himself in the shadows of the late afternoon sun.

“Ha ha.” He imitated, his usual playful attitude absent as he refused to look in your direction.

Something wasn’t right.

With your bodies facing each other, his legs hung over the edge of the table he was perched on as you remained standing. After a few moments of unmoving silence, you lightly tapped his knee, asking him to move so you could stand between his legs. He complied, but kept his eyes secured to the wall on your right. Slowly, you reached out to cup his jaw with a gentle hand, tilting his face to meet yours. You face fell the instant you saw the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was swollen shut, with hints of black already forming on the delicate skin. His chin was tinged an unforgivable red from where he’d wiped away the blood from his busted lip and damp trails ran from his watery right eye.

He’d been crying.

Your own tears welled up when he looked you in the eye, and you found yourself biting your lip to stop any from falling.

With your other hand, you grasped hold of the brim of his worn hat and placed it on the table beside him, letting the mess of curls fall lose against his face.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his own tears before resting his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your back, “You?”

“Just shaken up.” You stated, wasting no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin upon his head. The pair of you stayed like that for an extended period of time, without anyone questioning you. It was a hard day for everyone, no one needed to make it any harder. After some time, the sun had set and the lodging house was quieter then ever before. You longed to sit down and fall asleep yourself, your legs sore and aching. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the heavy sleeping form of your best friend. The years of denial on your behalf, stating that you hadn’t caught feeling for Race were long forgotten now.

The things you’d do to make that moment last forever.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, you and the other Manhattan Newsies had recovered for the most part. Physically, everyone were well on their way to healing, but emotionally there was still a fair way to go. Crutchie was still in the Refuge and Jack was still missing but everyone had managed to rest up while Davey reassessed the group’s future movements.

While the others sat glumly in Jacobi’s, you’d decided to go for a long stroll around New York to clear your head, musing the thought of visiting Crutchie in the Refuge. He was one of your closest friends, so sweet and so caring with an equally as vibrant personality, the thought of him in such a wretched place brought tears to your eyes.

You’d helped Jack smuggle food and blankets on too many occasions to count; how difficult could it be without him?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shout of your name from a long way down the busy street. Race’s figure came into view quickly, his chest was heaving as he sprinted down the cobblestone footpath towards you. Immediately, you panicked, thinking Race had been caught stealing cigars again and the cops were on their way but much to your surprise, he slowed as he neared you. Rather then desperation being painted across his features, his face held joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“We’s in the papes (Y/N)!” He gasped out, bending to place his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“What are you talkin’ about Race?”

“Katherine got us in the paper!,” He heaved, sweat glistening on his forehead. He pulled the rolled up newspaper from underneath a strap of his suspenders, before unrolling it to the front page and holding it out to you, “Look! That’s us!” He beamed, pointing a finger at the image underneath the headline: ‘NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD’.

In your slight state of shock, you glossed over the story and mentally took note to personally thank Katherine later on.

You actually made it into the papes.

“You’s know what this means?” You queried, your smile transforming into a bright grin as you grabbed hold on Race’s hands, tucking the paper under your arm.

“We’re famous.” He finished for you, his grin matching yours.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Newsies of New York City.” Jack addressed from the top of Newsies Square, Joseph Pulitzer at one side and governor Theodore Roosevelt at the other. It was nice to see him back where he truly belonged, the so-called ‘King of Manhattan’. You could feel your heart beating painfully in your ears as you awaited the news, the anticipation making every second feel longer then what it actually was. Race’s hand was tight in your grasp as you sucked in a final breath, “We won!”

The chorus of cheers that sounded was deafening. It was finally over. After two ruthless and unforgiving weeks of striking, and everything had finally come to a close.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realise you were holding and turned towards Race. Race grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, laughing and chorusing while you were grinning ear to ear yet entirely speechless.

When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed with the loss of contact, but when his arms around your body were replaced by his lips against yours, the world melted away. Slow and soft yet fiery and passionate the same time, as unpredictable as Race himself. His hand moved to cup your jaw and draw you closer, your arms finding their way to wrap around his neck.

When you pulled apart, there was stars in both of your eyes.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Racetrack.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed lightly at the fond memories, feeling incredibly grateful for all that had happened in order to bring you to where you were.

“We’s really made it huh?”

Race briefly chuckled into your shoulder, before raising his head and placing another long kiss against your neck, “We’s really made it.”

#newsies x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #race x reader #newsies race x reader #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack kelly x reader #davey jacobs x reader #x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr

146 notes · View notes

voices-ringing-out · 4 years

Text

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY: Eli the Devi

Trigger Warning for Christianity references/allegories

“My friends are dead because of my teachings! The way of love - it wasn’t the way for Gabrielle. I was too proud to see that. What good is this gift if I can’t at least protect the ones I love? Why did you even give this to me? What am I supposed to do? You show me! What am I supposed to do?”

~*~

Eli was born to Malachi and Sarita, but never had a chance to know his mother, who passed away shortly after he was born. It had been natural causes; she had fallen ill partway through her pregnancy with Eli, and held onto strength long enough to bring him into the world, to get to know him and help Malachi come to terms with what would be happening before she passed.

To his credit, Malachi tried his hardest to be a good father. He put aside any and all habits that might hinder his ability to provide the best life he could for his son; no more drinking, no more journeys that might prove risky. His world revolved around three things and three things only: his child, working to provide for them, and keeping his wife’s memory alive.

Still, growing up with only himself and his father - who was often scarce, trying to make sure they had money enough to survive - left Eli a very lonely young boy with a tendency to find distractions wherever he could. Usually that meant wandering the village, always getting on well with the other village children, but never connecting enough with them to become proper friends.

He often found himself wanting to help others in need, becoming frustrated when he couldn’t due to his own poverty-stricken status and his small, thin frame. This frustration came to a head when he was thirteen: Malachi’s best friend, a man named Rakesh who suffered from chronic convulsions, was visiting one day when he fell into a particularly bad fit. Malachi left Eli there with him while he ran to find the village healer.

While trying to comfort the man, Eli had reached out. When he touched the other’s forehead, he was gripped with a white hot surge, and when it passed, Rakesh had stopped convulsing. He was perfectly fine when Malachi and the doctor returned, and Rakesh never convulsed again. But no matter how hard he tried to replicate it, tried to explain it, Eli could never figure out just how he did what he did - or what exactly he had done in the first place.

After years of wishing he had the power to help, thinking he might have it, and then deciding it had all been a fluke and a coincidence because he couldn’t replicate it, Eli gave up on the dreams of helping others with some god-given power at the age of 16. His father was ailing and he needed to help earn money to survive; it wasn’t something he nor his father was proud of, but he had become adept at magic tricks and illusions, and began making a name for himself as a street magician who did shows for others’ amusement.

Even as an adult, this was the job he took. It didn’t pay well, sometimes, and he took to traveling from town to town to make ends meet, always sending money back to his father; it was the only way he knew how to help, as Malachi was aging and finding it harder and harder to work.

It’s while traveling in India and putting on his performances that Eli meets Xena and Gabrielle - two women who eventually, through a remarkable chain of circumstances, come to help him realise that he does have powers - he is a Devi, a divine healer who has contact with God. He just hasn’t learnt how to use those powers to the full extent yet. Taken aback, Eli decides to take his leave for a while and mull everything over, trying to come to terms with a fact that he had thought was a dream this entire time.

THE BASICS

full name: eli. in his canon verse, nobody really has surnames; in modern verses/ones where he does have a surname however, his entire name is elisha cyril theodorou - which makes it apparent why he prefers just to go by eli.

aka: eli, the devi

age: it varies verse to verse but in general his age is in the late twenties range!

gender & pronouns: gender doesn’t particularly matter to him, though at the same time he definitely connects to masculine energy - so he/him or they/them are both fine.

orientation: panromantic asexual! which basically means (for him, it varies from asexual to asexual) that he can fall in love with any gender, but doesn’t really have a sex drive. he just likes pleasing his partners in whatever form that takes, but if it does go sexual, he WILL be awkward as hell and people are just gonna have to deal with that.

species: human more or less, though it is up for debate (and differing in other verses)

occupation: street magician, healer

residence: verse-dependent; he travels a lot, and canonically they ran across him in india - i would imagine he often travels up and down from greece to india on a semi regular basis.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

hair: long and oftentimes braided or tied back with some sort of fabric or ribbons; thick and black.

eyes: an expressive, stormy blue-grey.

complexion: lightly tanned from his frequent travels in the outdoors.

build: he was very small and skinny as a child, oftentimes looking sickly, but grew to be quite tall in his later teen years - he’s leaner now, with more muscle on him, but still fairly thin.

scars: most scars he has from his travels; various accidents, such as the time he was bucked off a horse, or the time that he lost his footing climbing a ridge and tumbled down a sheer cliffside. a few scars he has from fights, but he generally prefers to flee rather than fight if given the choice - at first out of fear, but then out of a desire for peace.

tattoos: he has none, though has occasionally had others create temporary art on his body with henna. he enjoys how it looks.

piercings: a variety of ear piercings, with golden hoops being his favourite jewelry to place there.

etc: when he’s truly joyful, he smiles with his whole face - a grin with the teeth showing, dimples in his cheeks, eyebrows raised, eyes dancing. he feels emotions intensely - whether they be grief or joy or fear - and no matter how hard he tries to hide them, his face is so often an open book, easil and expressing his feelings for all to see.

face claim(s): timothy omundson for most of his verse faceclaims, though i’m still looking for a childhood faceclaim!

PERSONALITY

zodiac: pisces

alignment: somewhere between lawful and neutral good

hogwarts: hufflepuff

positive traits: compassionate, gentle, generous, perceptive

negative traits: anxious, can be a pushover sometimes, insecure, perfectionist.

MEDICAL RECORD

mental: he has anxiety, but other than that, not much else that could be diagnosed.

physical: N/A

phobias: atychiphobia (fear of failure), thanataphobia (fear of death/dying), thalassophobia (fear of deep water).

eyesight: excellent.

drug use: verse-dependent; in most verses, eli tends to stay away from drugs.

alcohol use: again, verse-dependent, but it isn’t frequent - he’s a social drinker, or will have perhaps a glass of wine occasionally.

BACKGROUND

birth place: unknown

ethnicity: greek mostly, i think; mediterranean at any rate.

parents: malachi and sarita

siblings: none, but he considers anyone he grows close to as family, whether that be siblings, children, or otherwise.

pets: he travels too much to provide a home for pets, but has oftentimes helped feed and take care of stray animals - cats, dogs, or otherwise - that ended up following him on his journeys. he loves animals.

education: he didn’t receive a formal education, instead learning trades and skills as he grew from those around him. he was fortunate enough to get book-learning, something many people in his village didn’t receive growing up, thanks to his travels later on in his teen years.

notable skills: magic tricks and illusions he has mastered the art of, which proves to be his greatest skill - it is his main source of income before he turns to the nomadic life. he also has a love for wood carving, often making little figurines that he will sell for money on the side. other skills he has are just those expected of someone in his world - how to farm and hunt if needed to feed himself, how to take care of others as best he can, etc.

languages: this is tricky because of the way the xena: warrior princess canon is set up lol. let’s just say he knows english and depending on verse, can also speak some hebrew, greek, and hindu.

#character introductions > eli #introductions #i had to use just screenshots since the only gif i found of eli wouldnd't load rip #anyway have my angel baby #why is it th at any time i try to do the fucking headings in larger text it won't work #it does the weird thing with the two first letters being smaller no matter how hard i try to fix it

2 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

Spiritual Connection - Part 2

Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had known the five men who lived in your Grandmother’s house. What you weren’t expecting upon returning as an adult was that they would still be there - and look exactly the same.

Pairing: Brian Kang / DAY6 x reader

Genre: ghost au / fluff / romance

Warnings: none

Spiritual Connection will be posted daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

You felt as if you had returned home for the first time in years. Staring up at the proud home before you, nothing had changed. The flower beds and bushes were just as wildly maintained as usual, and you looked to the front of the house and smiled when you saw the porch swing you had sat out upon every morning watching as the world started to wake up for the day.

It was all just how you expected it to be and you were struck with a wave of grief. You missed her terribly. You wished you had come back sooner, not letting the throes of life and the bustle of the city overwhelm you and make you only consider of how to get through each day.

You should have sought out this enchanting place far sooner.

Getting out of your car after reaching for your bag, you moved onto the cobblestone pathway that wound through the flowers up to the front porch, fingering the keys within your jeans pocket. You had kept them close ever since they had been handed to you, much to your mother’s chagrin.

“But you have so much going for you in the city, Y/N! Don’t throw it away on that little seaside escape. You’ll find it’s not how you imagined it to be. As a kid, you could play all day. Now as an adult, you have to worry about how to survive. There’s not a lot going for work there.”

Taking a deep breath, you ignored your mother’s pessimism and slotted the key into the front door.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you and began to explore. Some items triggered memories and others puzzled you. Why had you enjoyed hiding so much behind this big chair? You remembered the highs of your childhood here, full of laughter, excitement and happiness. Had your friends moved away now? The house was so silent, apart from the sounds of your footsteps, or the opening of doors as you peered into the rooms. Did you really imagine them all? You sure had been a creative child at one point.

The longer you wandered through the home, the more certain you became that it was just your grandmother living here after all. When your world was turned upside down with your parent’s divorce, you had needed some sense of comfort in that confusing period. You rationalised your friends to be projected as just that, the workings of needing friends during an upsetting time.

“So then, who do I need to clear out of here, Grandmother?” you murmured, turning around in a slow circle as you surveyed the living room. On your second spin, you saw a set of eyes that you hadn’t in many years. Blinking rapidly, as you spun, you caught the face that was attached to those warm brown eyes, wobbling to a halt.

“Y/N?” he tentatively asked and you stared back at Brian for a moment, before a loud scream erupted from within your chest, and you promptly passed out.

“Wave the bag of smelling salts closer to her nose, you idiot!”

“I am, can’t you see how close they are? These things still stink after all these years.”

“Do you think Y/N’s going to be okay? She hit her head pretty badly.”

“Wonpil, if she’s not, we’ll just blame Brian, okay? It was him who showed himself first.”

“Would you all shut up, I was surprised too, you know. I had expected that attorney to come back and keep snooping through Pearl’s belongings for signs of life here, not Y/N.”

There was a loud snort and you felt your heavy eyelids start to lighten off with the sound. “Only the dead walk here.”

“Look, guys, she’s stirring!”

With a groan, you finally fought through the endless dark world back to the light, where the voices above you all ceased. When you managed to open your eyes again, you stared up into the faces of five familiar men. It shocked you just as much as before, but since you were sprawled out on the ground, you merely jerked back, eyes growing wide again.

Jae shook his head adamantly. “No, don’t faint again! I’ve been shaking these salts for twenty minutes and I know it might not seem like much to do, but they are heavy.”

Silently, you eyed the bag above you, soon scrunching your nose up when you inhaled the strong scent attached to them. Reaching out to take the bag from Jae’s appreciative grip, you sat up slowly, vaguely aware of all the prepared arms shooting out to help you just in case.

Man, this was confusing.

Before, you had been hoping to see your childhood friends as soon as you entered the home. Even after all these years, you had believed you couldn’t make up five men. If you had wanted friends, shouldn’t they be closer in age to you? That would be the most logical choice for imaginary friends. And whenever you questioned why they were so old in the past, Sungjin would smile distantly and say that he couldn’t do as good of a job protecting you if he was too young. Dowoon had enthused he was stronger this way and Jae had always joked around with you asking why you were so young instead. It had never really bothered you that much, accepting them for what it was at the time. Regardless of appearance, they had played with you endlessly. And they had been your friends for many years.

How had they not aged since?

“She looks confused, are you okay, Y/N?” Wonpil asked, kneeling closer. He chuckled sheepishly. “Feels weird to think you’re Y/N, I remember when you were this tall.”

“Why? People grow up, Pil.”

“Not us,” Dowoon interjected and Brian reached to smack him around the head. “What? Being dead means we stopped aging a long time ago.”

“What… what did you just say?” you asked, and the conversation fell short. The men looked between one another for a moment.

And then Sungjin tentatively smiled. “Y/N, you really didn’t know?”

“I know you’re my childhood friends, and you’re still in my Grandmother’s house after what, eight years since I last saw you?”

“That’s kind of what happens when you’re a ghost,” Jae surmised and Wonpil hissed at him worriedly. “Don’t hiss at me. There’s no point sugar-coating it. We weren’t imaginary friends, Pearl knew we lived here. She used to play with us when she was young too.”

“I’m sorry,” you started, raising your hands and heaving in a deep breath, in hopes it would help you understand better. “Did you just say, you played with my Grandmother when she was younger?”

Five heads bobbed up and down and you slumped in your posture, unblinking.

“Do we need the smelling salts again?”

Taking in a shaky breath, you glanced up into the face you had first seen earlier today. Brian had always been the one you turned to the most. He was cautious, watching and waiting for your next reaction. You swallowed despite your throat feeling dry. “Just how long have you been here for?”

You paced your bedroom floor back and forth, trying to understand your discovery. Your grandmother’s house was haunted? Was that some kind of joke? Since when could you see the dead, anyway? If that was the case, shouldn’t you have seen many others before in your lifetime too?

You shivered, despite the warm spring evening, rubbing your hands against your skin to take the chill out of it.

The five of them had tried to give you the space you requested after getting up and removing yourself from their surrounding circle. You couldn’t just readily accept their words, even if things were slowly clicking into place.

However, Wonpil had knocked on your door before sticking his head around it, offering you a blanket in case you still felt unwell. Sungjin had reminded you that you hadn’t eaten and it was growing dark out. You knew it was Jae playing the guitar and singing loudly about your denial in the office down the hall, and Dowoon had come up to look through the window more than once until you closed the curtains.

Only one respected your wishes, but you knew Brian was close. He always had been.

Twisting the handle of the door when you felt ready enough to, you peered around the threshold and found him leaning against the wall, eyes perking at your appearance. He smiled and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. His smiles had always charmed you.

“You okay?”

“As okay as someone can be after all this,” you mentioned with a shrug, stepping out into the hallway and eying him with some interest. “You know, I never knew ghosts could change their outfits. Shouldn’t you be floating around in the same clothes you … you uh-”

“Died in?” he offered and you nodded softly. Brian smirked. “I think if I had to stay in that outfit for the rest of my existence, I would be pretty annoyed. I’ve been in this house since the late eighteen-hundreds; would you really want to see me in what was the norm for me back then?”

“I don’t know, I find the Victorian era pretty fascinating.”

“Do you just,” he murmured, staring back at you. It unnerved you and for a moment you almost forgot that he wasn’t, well alive. Blinking away from his gaze, you played with the hem of your t-shirt. “You’ll have to explain more about this to me as we go.”

“You’re not going to pack up and leave? I had you pegged for running away from all of us now that you know we’re not part of the living.” You shot him a warning look and he grinned happily. “You still do that same expression after all these years.”

“What expression?”

Brian attempted to mimic what you had done and you laughed, shaking your head at him. He laughed too and then stepped closer, growing concerned again. “Are you going to sell this house?”

“Will you leave if I do?”

“This has been our home for far too long,” he mused, glancing around at the picture-laden hallway. Your grandmother had always decorated with a cluttered, homey vibe. “Should we move on?”

You didn’t know how to answer Brian’s question, though you did know some changes would have to be made around this house now.

_________________

Part 3

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Frightful October Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

154 notes · View notes

sugarsugarmoon · 4 years

Text

In The Arms of Morpheus - Ch. 1

Series Summary: Greek god Morpheus!yoongi x villager!reader

Series Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

Chapter Summary: When you get to make the pilgrimage to Mount Olympus for the first time, you meet some unexpected troubles.

Chapter Genre: Honestly just exposition and background building

Chapter Warnings: some description of injuries, some slightly bullying

Chapter WC: 3856

a/n: This is the first chapter of at least 5 chapters, and I am really excited about this series. I hope you all like it. It’s slightly more edited than usual, but I didn’t try that hard.

Nestled within the mountains and forests below the Land of the Gods, a sleepy little village bustled with preparations for that year’s pilgrimage to the base of Mount Olympus. Each year, the youth of the village travel to leave an offering to The Gods. Though no one has seen or heard from any of The Gods in hundreds of years, the tradition is one that has persisted throughout the existence of the village.

You were packing your small backpack for the trip when your mother entered the room. She walked to you and ran her hand over your hair, which was hanging loose down your back. She had always been gentle with you, like if she touched you too hard you might break.

“Now, you’re sure you’re fine going? You have everything you need? You could wait another year or two.” she asked as she started to braid your hair.

“Yes, mom. For the hundredth time, I’m fine. I’m in my 20s, and I’m not made of glass. I can do this. I’m glad I finally get to go,” you responded, a little exasperated.

She finished the plaits in your hair and tied a ribbon around the end, and you wriggled out of her grasp and stood across the room from her. It’s not that you didn’t love her or appreciate her concern, but you were the only person in the village who, by your mid-twenties, had still never gone on the pilgrimage. Everyone in the village treated you the same way, and they had even given you the nickname “The Glass Princess.”

When you were younger, your body was too weak, so you were bedridden for most of your childhood. You didn’t have the opportunity to live the normal life of a child. The healer from your village had traveled far to other villages searching for the mystical Elder Root, and finally, she had bartered some of her evening primrose, echinacea, and lavender for a small trimming the plant. She made the journey back to your village and made the Elder Root into a tonic. After 2 weeks, you had the strength to stand up. After one year, you were healthy enough to attend school, even though your mother would never let you.

You learned everything at home, patiently sitting each day while your mom braided your hair, and reading as many books as you could. You read all about the times of The Gods and the way the world used to be. You overheard your mother talking with your grandmother and the healer about when The Gods still appeared in the mortal realm, helping when they could or tricking humans. They complained about how they wished The Gods were there now to help with the great famine of the land.

That day, you decided that you would try to figure out why The Gods abandoned humans. In all of your research, you had never found a clear answer to what The Gods wanted in the mortal realm. You had decided that they had actually never existed because what kind of immortal creatures would let the people they were said to care about fall into such a deep and unrelenting hardship. You hardly told anyone that you believed that The Gods weren’t real, and when you felt comfortable enough to tell people, a few of them had told you that they couldn’t associate with a non-believer.

Your friend, Hoseok, was the only one who supported you. He still believed, but he always told you that it was your right to not believe. No one treated you more like a regular person than Hoseok did. He goofed around with you, shoving you gently when you made bad jokes. You thought that, perhaps, when you were older, you might like to marry someone compassionate and understanding like Hoseok. Something always kept you from saying this to him.

This year for the pilgrimage, Hoseok had agreed to accompany you, even though he had gone several times already. He smiled brightly as you rambled over and over about your excitement to leave the village for the first time. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and you went through waves of bubbling excitement and overwhelming anxiety.

Over the course of the week, you had kept your hands occupied all day every day by sewing, knitting, helping your mother cook, and even making daisy chains with Hoseok in the fields of wildflowers beside your house.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Hoseok asked, and you could tell by his tone that he was trying not to offend you.

“I don’t have to do it, Hoseok. I want to do it. I’m just different than everyone else in that I’ve never even been into the forest outside of the village.” Your fingers stopped twisting the flowers, and you set them aside and grabbed Hoseok’s hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “And I have you, right? That’s all I need to make it.”

Hoseok blushed slightly, but he smiled a huge shiot shaped grin at you. He took the flowers in his hand and placed them on top of your head.

“This color looks really good with your hair,” he giggled, moving to rebraid your hair with the flowers in it.

With Hoseok’s reassurance, you had made it to the day that you were going to leave. You hugged your mother and joined Hoseok with the group of young adults, carrying different types of bags and baskets with them for the trip. Overall, it should only take about six hours, so you all met while the morning dew was still clinging to the blades of grass in the village center. After everyone was accounted for, you all left on your way toward the forest.

As you crossed the field of tall grass, you turned back to see your mother right before she disappeared into the distance. At the edge of the forest, you turned to Hoseok, who smiled and took your hand.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered in your ear.

Once in the forest, the world seemed different. It was quieter and calmer. The dampness mixed with muskiness of the earth below your feet wafted into your nose. Combined with the smell of the damp leaves on the trees, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. You are immediately in love with everything that the trees have to offer.

You kept looking straight up into the canopy, and the twigs and roots on the path caused you to trip a little bit. Eventually Hoseok grabbed you by the arm to steady and lead you while you marveled at the way the light danced between the leaves when the wind blew and how the branches from different trees mingled with one another, causing different colors and shapes of leaves to bleed together as if they were one.

It was nothing like the two or three trees bunched together that you’d experienced before, and your eyes started to well up with tears as you thanked the Gods (even though you didn’t believe in them) for the opportunity to leave the village for once.

You and Hoseok lagged behind the rest of the group because of your enchantment by every facet of the forest. Hoseok didn’t seem to mind, just pulled you along a little more quickly when you started to fall too far behind. The path through the forest wound through the thickest parts of the forest, where the trees were so dense that hardly any light peaked through at points. You felt like you’d been walking all day long when you finally emerged from the winding path to the base of the mountain.

It stretches high above you and paints the sky a light, heathered green until treeline, and the gray top of the peak and white snow are surrounded by clouds.You have to catch your breath, as it is the most massive thing you’ve ever seen. The expanse of the entire mountain range overwhelms your senses, and you cannot believe that you’ve spent your whole life looking at these from a distance. Up close, the mountains are both staggering and much less threatening. When you look at them, it feels like you could definitely hike up the winding switchbacks on your own easily.

Before you start to climb up the foothills, the group decides to take a break to eat and drink. The entire group sits together in the shade of one of the trees on the edge of the forest, cheerfully chattering as they eat. None of the others talk to you and Hoseok, but you don’t mind. You blather on and on about the smells and sights and feel of the forest, as you run your fingers through the moist dirt, pinching small pebbles between your fingers and tossing them aside.

“Hey, glass girl, are you sure that you can make it up that hill?” one boy calls from the otherside of the circle.

“Of course she can!” Hoseok immediately shoots back at him. He’s always been protective of you, but you know that he knows how important this is to you. You place your hand on his knee, and whisper “it’s fine.”

“No, y/n, it’s really really not fine,” he says curtly. “They will always see you as the Glass Princess, and it isn’t right. They should be mocking you for the fact that you were sick.”

“Hoseok, you know that, and I know that. It’s not worth the fight.”

He sighs heavily. “Fine, but if he does it again, I’m gonna punch him.”

You laugh at Hoseok’s words because you know he would never hurt anyone unless he really had to. Hoseok’s frown finally fades into a smile as you talk more about what the rest of the day holds. You only have about half an hour left to hike up the hill to the shrine of the Gods, then you’ll all head back to the village, resuming your lives like normal.

Finally, the group decides to pack up and head out before the sun is too high in the sky, scorching your skin when you are between the trees.

The hike is more difficult than you imagined it would be, the gradual grade upward making your calves burn and your breath come out in shallow pants. Hoseok stays by your side, but he does giggle as you continue to tell him that you don’t need help between heavy breaths. The hike is a little difficult for you, a girl who has never been outside of her village, but you catch up to the rest of the group.

As you crest the small hill, you see the shrine, shining in the sun. It’s gorgeous and blinding. The golden slab has an elaborate illustration of Zeus atop mount Olympus surrounded by Hera, Ares, Dionynus, Hypnos, Athena, and Apollo. Even though you didn’t believe in their existence, you were required to learn about the Gods from your mother when you were a child. You could name all of the major ones, but you hadn’t given enough time to any of the Gods who weren’t etched into this shrine.

The group sets to work at cleaning the shrine and preparing to leave the offering for the Gods. You and Hoseok begin to clean up the cloth from the last offering, gathering it into your bag and replacing it with new clean cloth. Others clean the golden plaque or lay the fruits, breads, and oils on top of the cloth.

When it’s finished, you all stand back and admire the work that you’ve done. It looks like a beautiful setting, a beautiful offering. You wish that it was going to anyone or anything besides the birds scavenging the mountains, but you are still proud of how it looks.

The teens start talking about Hyacinth Ridge amongst themselves, about how beautiful the purples, whites, and pinks are among the trees on the side of the mountain. Your ears perk up because hyacinths don’t grow in the field by your house, and you would give anything to see, smell, and collect them.

“Hey, are you all going to Hyacinth Ridge!?” you call out to them.

“What? The Glass Princess wants to hike the ridge? Really?” one young girl asks in a snarky tone. “Do you think you can make it?”

“Of course, I can make it. I’m not going to break!” you exclaim a little louder and more defensive than you mean to. You blush as they all look at you. “I just want to see the Hyacinths.”

A small faction from the group decides to spend an extra hour to go up to the ridge and see the beauty of the flowers. At first, Hoseok is hesitant to go, but when you are insistent that you are going, he rolls his eyes and joins the group.

The hike is a little more difficult than the first hill, but the boys up front keep calling back that it’s just a little while further. You feel the heat of the sun in your cheeks, and you know they are reddening. Your mother will be so upset when you show up with pink cheeks and ears, but you don’t care because you are so thrilled to be on that mountain.

You come around the corner to a gorgeous, deep green forest that looks different from the forest at the base of the mountain. Sporadic sprouts of hyacinth sit at the bases of trees, lining the forest floor. The further you walk, the more and more flowers fill the space. You squeal with excitement as you see them all, in all different shades. You stop to pick some of the white flowers from the side of the path and place them into your bag gently. You see some of the pink flowers a little deeper into the forest, you silently pad across the forest floor to pluck some of the pink sprouts. When you look up, you can’t figure out from which direction you came.

You spin frantically around, looking for the path. There is no way that you had wandered that far because you can hear the faint giggles of the group, but their laughs echo off the trees making it impossible to figure out from which direction they came.

“Hoseok!!!” you yell as loudly as you can, searching for any sign of him or the others. God you are so stupid! you think to yourself. y/n, you are so stupid.

You hear your name faintly from somewhere, and you try to walk toward it. You keep calling out for Hoseok while you move. Unfortunately, the sound gets fainter and fainter the further you walk. You begin to cry as you tread through the wooded area. You know that if you don’t go up, eventually you will have to come back down the mountain.

After what feels like hours of walking, you finally emerge onto a rocky face of the mountain. Even though it goes against your instincts, you decide to hike up a little higher to try to get an aerial view to see if you can see the path.

You work your way upward then follow a small, flat area. Your feet slip on the loose rocks, and you lose your footing on the edge of the incline. As you fall, you cry out for Hoseok. The last thing that you remember is the pain of the jagged rocks one after another as you rolled down the side of the mountain. You screamed at first, but the impact knocked the breath from your lungs. You had no choice but to allow yourself to tumble down the side, accepting that you were going to die. Your mother had been right to be afraid. And then it was black.

The first thing within the blackness is the pain. You become aware more and more of the pain. Seemingly every inch of your body is screaming. You feel your ragged breath filling your lungs, and every movement of your chest hurts. You open your eyes, and, at least, your eyelids don’t cause any more pain.

You are in a dark place. Maybe a room. You can’t really tell or process. You see a few lights spread around. There are three figures in the corner, but they don’t look quite human. They are too far in the shadows and your brain is too fuzzy to make out what is so different about them, but you can’t tell if they are friend or foe.

You try to cry out to them, instead making a squeaky whimper. All three heads whip around to look at you. They whisper amongst themselves, and one of the figures approaches you. From where you are lying, he looks tall and slender with a shock of tousled black hair atop his head. When his face is illuminated by a candle on the table nearest to you, you gasp causing a sharp pain in your ribs. Not only is he painfully gorgeous with soft features, thick lips, wide and angled eyes, and a piercing stare, but you are sure that you’ve seen him before. You couldn’t quite place him. But you knew you had.

He shushes you instead of saying any words and slips into the space behind you. As his face is illuminated by the candle near you, you see his face.

He had come to you in dreams. Usually, you were in a mundane scenario when he appeared. He would deliver some weird cryptic message that he said you were supposed to apply to your life, and then you would return to your dream. You would never forget the first time that he had come to you, and he had warned you that your grandfather would be involved in an accident.

When you awoke, his face was burned behind your eyelids, but you thought nothing of it. However, the next day, on a ride to the market, a snake spooked your grandfather’s horse causing it to buck him off and take off into the woods. Your grandfather broke some of his ribs and hit his head hard enough that he was unable to work for weeks. After you heard the news, you immediately tried to remember the man’s face, but it was just a vague blur of features.

Since then, every time he’s come to you, you’ve fought to remember his words and his face upon waking, taking every possible precaution based on his warnings. No, you would never ever mistake that face when you were asleep. You must be dreaming now. But...why were you in so much pain still?

“You,” you whisper in a barely audible tone, throat dry and rough.

“Shhh,” he says and begins to wrap his arms around your mangled body.

“No…” you try to fight, but you find yourself relaxing into his chest. Unable to fight the sleep that overcomes you while being held in his embrace.

…

“You can’t just keep her here, Yoongi. She recognized you.” The woman, his mother, Pasithea, hisses at him as he lays you back against the pillows and walks toward her.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let her die out there? You know that without treatment she’ll die. Ascelpius will be here soon, and he will heal her. I’ll just stay with her tonight,” he whispers, through his frustration.

Even though he would never admit it, Yoongi was fond of mortals because he had to interact with them so much. After you hold people in your arms so much, you can’t help but feel concerned for their frail bodies, minds, and hearts. Mortals were so much warmer, physically and emotionally, than the other Gods. They let their minds imagine wild scenes while their bodies rested. The Gods were so fixed in reality; humans had imagination.

His mother sighs, “Fine. But only until she can be healed.”

She stalks out of the room, leaving Yoongi alone. He pulls a stool up and watches you sleep. Your brow finally relaxes, leaving behind red creases. He smiles to himself at how helpless and frail you look. Something about your humanity excites him and makes him feel comfortable around you.

As Yoongi sits there through the dark minutes, he thinks that perhaps the reason that humans can sit with their dying loved ones and watch them sleep is because eventually they fall asleep themselves. Without the need for sleep, Yoongi sits in the chair bored for a while, and then he remembers that he has messages to take to the mortal realm. You are restless, and he worries for you but can’t just sit in that chair for the rest of the night.

He stalks out of the room to track down his brother, Taehyung - known to the mortal realm as Phantasus - to stay with the girl. He knows that Taehyung would be willing to take a night off for once, whereas his other brother, the third of the Oneiroi, would be of no comfort to him.

Yoongi existed to help humans sleep, to help them process their experiences, and to help them receive messages from the Gods. Taehyung existed to allow the humans to fully explore their imaginations, see the fantastical creatures their own minds were capable of creating if only they relaxed. Their other brother, Seokjin - known to the mortals as Phobetor - ironically delivered terrified dreams to the mortals and scared them. Though the humans learned a lot through these nightmares, Seokjin himself was so easily scared because he had seen so many terrifying things.

Yoongi spots Taehyung in the hall. Only their mother and Taehyung knew that the girl was hidden in one of the empty caves within the Palace of Hypnos. Yoongi waves his younger brother over, more frantically than he would have wished. He rolls his eyes at himself as Tae draws nearer to him, and Yoongi holds a finger over his lips.

“What?” Tae whispers.

“Do you think you can stay with the human for a while? I have some messages from Zeus to deliver, and you know how he gets when you make him wait.”

Yoongi tries to be as casual with his tone as possible. He isn’t sure why, but he wants Tae so badly to care for you. He wants his mother to stay away from you, even though she agreed to let you stay overnight. He knew that as soon as Ascelpius came and saw you, his mother would send you out alone on the mountain with no direction or supplies.

Tae smiles at him. “I’m not sure why she means so much to you, but you got it, hyung.”

Yoongi smiles slightly and claps his brother on the back. “Thank you, Taehyung! I’ll be back shortly after sun up.”

He walks quickly down the hall, leading Taehyung to you. He catches one more glimpse of your soft features in the pale candle light before he crosses through the river and waterfall out of the entrance to the Palace, and he skulks off into the night toward one of the nearby villages.

#minthlynet #yoongi x reader #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

100 notes · View notes

owlmylove · 5 years

Text

i am freshly 21 years old and my tongue sings with caffeine and chemicals, my fingers frigid to the bone from too many hours awake. i twist the ring on my finger, tuck my curls back. somehow, i have become the kind of — girl? woman? young lady? — who tucks her hair delicately behind her ear, silver bracelet brushing against my pulse.

somehow i have become the kind of person who knows each of her baristas by name, who gets excited planning dinner parties, who flips up the fur collar of her coat and burrows in against the chill, until all you can see is tousled hair and wind-bright eyes. i still can’t tell if the half-feral changeling i once was would see me as charming or contemptible. i was a rabid creature then, and sometimes i still miss her: the rough, hot beat of my adolescent heart

the ring and the eyeliner and the coat i wear every day - the smiles i flash. these are the little rituals we construct, the little ceremonies we have to try and will ourselves into being. life is action, acting, constantly. the construction of self. where’s the boundary line between instinctive and elaborately performed behaviors? sure, the difference between the two may sound self evident. but truthfully, they’re both tools honed and softened by years of use. familiar. comfortable. are behaviors somehow rendered less sincere for the artistry that went into making them?

i’d like to think not. too much of -

no, strike that: nearly all of my life has been spent making my own responses. watching the faces of expressive people fascinates me. could i even imagine being that unselfconscious? i’m peculiarly charmed by the faintest snarl that appears around someone’s lips when an unwanted guest appears, by the aborted sigh and half-rolled eyes of someone attempting politeness.

i remember rolling my eyes once. i hadn’t even realized i’d done it at the time — truth be told, i’m still not sure i did — but my father certainly had. he had plenty to tell me about my disrespect, about my attitude problem. i didn’t roll my eyes again for years — and i certainly wouldn’t do it accidentally ever again

I’m not saying I’ve the botox-perfect rigidity, half-smile half-grimace. but i will say that most micro-expressions you spot are ones i’m strangely hyperaware of. i’ve practiced them, you see. tilt my head this way, angle my eyes away from whatever pair i can feel against my skin. laugh high, lashes low, bashful downward glance. i didn’t realize i spend most of my life still ducking, expression-wise. i thought only my sister still did that.

she flinches from hugs, standing petrified in my arms. i don’t know if she hugs my mother differently; i don’t see them hug often enough, and never think to examine them when they do. i’m too busy sulking, eyes low, shoulders tense. i become a teenager whenever i’m in the room with them both. with just one or the other, i usually seem okay. i seem better. my mother and i have a wonderful dynamic; good hugs and long talks and wine nights with charcuterie boards and roasted almonds.

my sister and i have rare, staccato starts and false-stops and “maybe..?” connections. we have sitting on the kitchen floor one sunny summer afternoon, when the light splayed languidly against the dining room walls and everything stretched sweet and still, a taffy-perfect moment of time. the first and possibly only time i’ve felt like a sister.

the implication of “sister” — one in relation to the other, a part of a whole set — has always been a sensation that escaped me. whatever belonging i could’ve had with my sister seemed, for years, to have been hijacked by the favoritism of my surly ex-Catholic psychologist father (just as winning a combination as it might sound.) he claimed me as part of his “whole,” as the sidekick to kick back in the passenger seat of his pickup with a baseball cap and a Mountain Dew, singing all his favorite songs and laughing at all his jokes.

my sister and i have been like. like what?

opposing magnets, moving gently out of each other’s way. alternatively: too-close contact between the two of us prompts abrupt and explosive separations

neighboring apartment tenants in a NYC walkup. politely averted eye contact, a few held-doors when their hands are full

the way you walk unseeingly around people on a crowded sidewalk. consideration without connection.

“strictly business, nothing more”

maybe she’s the start of my love affair with people who close the door and cry? oh my god. maybe she’s why i’m so desperate to take care of people who’ll let me. all that pent-up momentum to murmur and soothe, to console, to hug and prescribe and therapize. something i was never granted. i don’t know

that afternoon was the only time i ever felt like maybe, somehow, we clicked. that, and the time i called her after those drunk women at work fell over themselves in the lobby, crawling like cockroaches, swearing and grabbing and grinding and snarling through laughs. belonging with each other, to each other.

i called her after in tears, asking why we’re always so goddamn nice to people who take advantage of us? who make us feel like nothing? why do we allow our senses of self to be overrun, over and over again? we have boundaries less like border walls and more like finish lines: chalked-up grass trampled flat and muddy.

she apologizes for it, constantly. i don’t know how to be friends with her. i certainly don’t know how to be sisters. maybe she doesn’t, either, but more often that not it seemed that she did know how to connect with all her high school friends. she just didn’t want to connect to me.

maybe this is why i’m still, perpetually, surprised by some people’s friendship. still a little starry-eyed by people choosing, actively, to keep connecting with me.

what a lonely thought.

in my handwriting, a horribly careless cursive scrawl, the slant of my “v”s and “n”s slope together. lonely and lovely look exactly the same. i realize i like the synonymical quality

i like the mercurial shape of myself. like my earrings, from chelsea market. like the earrings my aunt gave us once, when we were younger and new earrings not from claires were a shocking mark of maturity. they both changed color to match the surrounding light, filtering through the colors of our sweaters and our hair and our blushing, giddy cheeks.

(whenever i feel the cold brush of someone’s hands, no matter how much a stranger they may be, i instinctively cradle them to my overheated cheeks. there’s a metaphor there, i’m sure, but i don’t want to write it. so i’ll just politely avert eye contact and give it a nice berth on the sidewalk.)

my earrings and my smiles and my expressions, reflecting the rooms i’m in. i like being flexible. having synonyms. i like the different colors.

it makes it fascinating, renders soul-searching an act of psychological archaeology. realizing, today, now, why I like Jukebox the Ghost and Miracle Musical songs because of their fascinating similarities and differences to Owl City, to Panic! at the Disco, to the music of my day-dream childhood and sun-soaked adolescence. all those long car rides to shimmering shopping malls and airports. all the nights spent running barefoot over cracked asphalt. it’s so easy to romanticize! and i still can’t tell if it’s me or Adam Young’s idea of Florida writing these words.

how’s that for meta? is the cause for my romanticism of a sparkling-hot state from my listening to a boy in the cold middle of the country who stared at postcards and constructed an idea of a coastline, imagined himself beaches and tennis courts and saltwater rooms to wander in?

and here; even if that is the cause for my romanticism, is the habit and the emotions it inspires any less genuine for the degrees of separation required to construct the feeling?

like Stoker. “Just as the skirt needs the wind to billow, I'm not formed by things that are of myself alone. I wear my father's belt tied around my mother's blouse, and shoes which are from my uncle. This is me. Just as a flower does not choose its color, we are not responsible for what we have come to be. Only once you realize this do you become free, and to become adult is to become free.”

not to imply i’ll go murder anyone. but rather: the flower has no bearing over it’s color.

does that render it’s color false? is intent necessary for effect? or, in the end, is it just a flower?

#writing #cnf #spilled ink #personal #performative identity #owl city

780 notes · View notes

ramblingguy54 · 5 years

Note

26, 29, 30, 36?

*cracks knuckles*Alright, let’s do this.

26: The late Robin Williams & Hayao Miyazaki are two particular people in my life I’ve idolized for what happiness/imagination they’ve brought into others lives. Robin Williams untimely passing still hurts for me to look back on because this man made it his mission to bring so much joy into other peoples lives through his acting on the big screen, whether it was dramatic or comedic. That’s what I found the most impressive about Robin’s range in acting. He could be an over the top funny individual, but Robin’s acting chops were in a league of their own. Whether he was behind the microphone having the time of his life as Genie on Aladdin or giving a powerful dramatic performance on Good Will Hunting as Will’s therapist, I could feel the unconditional kindness. There was something about Robin’s acting power that would usually manage to reel me in. Even if I never knew him in real life, obviously, this man just radiated with so much kindness that I felt from his entire presence on screen. It’s seriously unfortunate what became of Robin Williams in the end with his unexpected death, but his legacy has inspired me to be kinder to others in real life. As for Hayao Miyazaki, this guy is a huge factor in why I got into loving anime related stuff all the more, as his creations in storytelling and the art itself for the movies were beyond unlike anything I still have yet to seen be topped quite frankly. It’s so easy for me to get emotionally lost in his films like My Neighbor Totoro, Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, and Spirited Away. This man never ceases to amaze me with how usually impactful and in depth his films are. They’re so full life that it’s easy to lose sight of whats happening in the actual story at times. Mayazaki understood how to breathe a ton of humanity into creating such resonating works of fiction. Have a much greater appreciation for them in my adult years. There’s a reason why they inspired companies, like Pixar, to create immersive stories of their own.

29: Favorite films range from Zootopia, Wreck It Ralph, M. Night Shyamalan’s Unbreakable, Aladdin (1992), The Secret Of NIMH, The Lion King (1994), The Incredibles, UP, Ratatouille, Wall-E, Finding Nemo, Inside Out, Kung Fu Panda 1 & 2, How To Train Your Dragon Trilogy, Toy Story 1-4, The Great Mouse Detective, Lilo & Stitch, The Emperors New Groove, A Goofy Movie, Good Will Hunting, The Fox And The Hound, The Land Before Time, The Brave Little Toaster, Frozen, Shrek 1 & 2, Coraline, Paranorman, Kubo And The Two Strings, The Muppets (2011), Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, Porco Rosso, Summer Wars, Beauty and the Beast (1991), Winnie The Pooh (1977 & 2011 iterations.), The Peanuts Movie, The Princess And The Frog, The Jungle Book (2016), Scooby Doo On Zombie Island, Harry Potters’ 1-7, Christopher Nolan’s Batman Trilogy, Wonder Woman, Sam Raimi’s Spiderman 1 & 2, The Black Panther, Thor & Thor Ragnorok, The Avengers, Avengers Infinity War & Endgame, Spiderman Into the Spiderverse, Captain America Trilogy, Iron Man Trilogy, Star Wars Episodes 4-8, and The Breakfast Club to stop this list from getting any longer. =P

30: Favorite TV shows range from Cowboy Bebop, Avatar The Last Airbender, Yu Yu Hakusho, Digimon Adventure 01 & Tamers, Teen Titans (2003), Batman The Animated Series, Ed, Edd,& Eddy, Samurai Jack, Courage The Cowardly Dog, The Powerpuff Girls (Screw that garbage reboot.), Chowder, Bojack Horseman, DuckTales (1987), DuckTales (2017), Gravity Falls, Code Geass (This series has shaky writing in a number of areas, but that ending was beautiful.), Amphibia, Steven Universe, Oban Star Racers, Made In Abyss, Stranger Things, Gargoyles, My Hero Academia, Naruto (I’ve got a soft spot for this series despite my MANY problems with its story later on.), Pokemon (Serious nostalgia overload!), Dragonball Z (My very first anime series I got into through the Toonami block. A real shocker I know. LOL!), Gurren Lagann, Kill la Kill, The Promised Neverland, Death Note, Chip N Dale Rescue Rangers, Sonic SatAM, Talespin, Darkwing Duck, The Grim Adventures Of Billy & Mandy, Robot Chicken, A Pup Named Scooby Doo, Kim Possible, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, and Fullmetal Alchemist (2003).

36: My three dream scenarios I’d like to fulfill?

1: Become A Voice Actor

Been interested in voice acting since I was a young teen, but have been in a conflicted state over these recent passing years in my life on whether or not I’d like to approach that route. There’s a lot of commitment I’d have to put into auditioning my butt off for roles I may or not get. Then comes the consistent practicing to keep my vocal chords in shape, so I don’t get rusty whatsoever. The industry for this kind of job can be hard to get recognized in too by how many other notable well known VA’s there are already. Not to mention, from what I’ve researched up on being a voice actor doesn’t bring in the money naturally, as it’s more of a passion job which that’s terrific and all, but if I want to partake in this profession I’ll have to juggle a job along with that which putting all those factors in my head honestly makes me intimidated. Ahhh well, it’s just something I’ll have to wait and see on if I can make that idea into a reality or not. No need to rush myself, of course.

2: Taking Up The Mantle Of Reviewing Shows & Films For A Living

Fiction, just like for many people, has been a great deal of helping me in my life moments of stress, solitude, depression, and anger. I’d love nothing more than to further express that to anyone out there in reviewing in great detail certain films or shows that I’ve come to love over these years in my life so far. Mostly for animation though, as its been a gateway for finding many gems of quality films or series. It never ceases to surprise me on how creative and powerful animation can be with its inventive ways of getting me to become an emotional mess. While I do enjoy live action series and films they pale in comparison to the beauty animation has brought into my life, since my early childhood of watching shows on Cartoon Network, Toon Disney, and Nickelodeon to a smaller degree. I’d like to think I’m good enough with how I present my reasons on why I feel so strongly connected to these stories showcasing characters trying to find hope in their own hard times. I try my hardest to take moments of my own life and find ways to connect it with whatever story I’m getting into next, so it can be all the more a special experience for myself. It’s important to put whatever character resonates with you most in their shoes for why you feel their emotional journey connecting with your own life on every conceivable level possible. That will make it when you write these kinds of reviews a very empowering read for others to feel either heard in their own feelings or simply giving others a new perspective to consider on this piece of fiction you’re discussing. Seeing some of my own particular analytical posts in the past here on Tumblr garner some attention from people gives me a boost of feeling better about potentially making this choice.

3: Starting A Family Of My Own…?

I can’t begin to tell ya how many times I’ve gone back and forth for getting married in the distant future to become a father has sped through my mind. On one hand, it scares the crap out of me to be taking up that big of a responsibility. However, on the other hand its deeply fascinated me emotionally of creating life through love for your significant other in starting your own family tree. I’d love to be able to raise kids of my own to pass on the lessons I’ve learned in life to make them become better people in the distant future, while showering them with unconditional love and affection. That would fill me up with such an indescribable joyous feeling to hear their own dreams and desires on what they want to accomplish in life. While I’d be a strict parent, I wouldn’t be a hard headed one quick to dismiss their own complaints if they had problems with how I handled things, once they start to get older. The kind of parent I’d want to be is an understanding open minded one who doesn’t judge their son or daughter for when they have an issue with me. Just because I’m a parent in that scenario doesn’t put me on a pedestal of immunity from criticism. Granted, I certainly don’t want to be a doormat for them to try taking advantage of either, but it’s also important to not let your parental role go to your head, too.

Although, I don’t plan on even trying to make this last dream of mine happen anytime soon. This is something that is MUCH later down the road that I wish to have happen. However, I won’t lie and say that I haven’t considered just staying content as a single guy for the rest of my life relying on close friends to bring me joy equivalent to this dream. While I adore the concept of creating life through love and being a father, there’s a shit ton of responsibility that comes with it. The life of a parent is not just putting your all into it. You gotta give more than just 100% when wanting to be a parent. It’s a serious test of your spiritual endurance, which I’m not sure is something I’ll ever have the courage to do, but then again things can change in life on the flip of a dime, so I’ll see how this all plays out for myself. Maybe I’ll stay happily single or I’ll happily be raising kids.

Gee, I wonder why this dream of being a parent resurfaced in my head recently this year? Oh yeah, it was thanks to this character here.

Seriously, Della Duck holds a real special place in my heart for making me feel these kind of feelings yet again. Darn you space mom! LOL.

Thanks for the ask, man.

#asks and answers #ask away #ask the rambler

11 notes · View notes

at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 4 years

Note

][Valentine's Day Alphabet for Wulf][ A || B || C || D || E || F || J || K || N || O || P || S || U || X || Y || Z

@blind-mutant

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Wulf likes showing it physically! Often he gives a friendly hand onto the shoulder or gently brushes his legs against someone else's. Playful fights are common with Edith and Wulf has fond memories of his parents teaching him to handle weapons with hands on his and teaching him how to do his hair into complex braids, with gentle and rough feeling hands tying his locks back (they're not dead or anything I'm just dramatic).

Rhys? He needs to make up for all those years that Rhys probably didn't get affection!! Rhys gets big meals to take with him, gets beautiful trinkets to make him look as much as he's worth, kisses and hugs that sweep Rhys off his feet and love filled words that Wulf may or may not spend an hour or two writing out before Rhys comes for his visit.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Not really? Flowers are incredibly short lived on Midgard so he thinks that they're rather useless gifts. But Wulf likes buttercups due to the little trick of placing them under your chin to see if you like butter or not.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He loves chocolate! But Wulf actually likes jawbreakers since they're something he can roll about in his mouth while doing stuff and just,,,go into that daze you get sometimes? Dissociate? Idk but he likes them and Wulf swears hands down that he will break a jaw breaker because he has the superior jaw Rhys! You can't stop him little love!

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Wulf likes picnics and being able to hike and travel about in big wild areas. He wants to be somewhere with Rhys where they can enjoy being somewhere private and around nature and since Rhys's is blind then Wulf often takes them to fields so that it's easier for him to manoeuvre about. He wantd Rhys to feel the sun on his skin as Wulf makes nice breezes to keep him cool as well.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Thai golden retriever man? Loves hugs. Trembles a little the first time he actually hugs Rhys because this is a sign that he, a big scary man, is being trusted to hold this much smaller and delicate looking man! Wulf is always gentle and slowly squeezes as the hug goes on and he secretly uses it as a way to check if Rhys is gaining any weight or if he's still too skinny.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Not very good when he tries since Wulf is clumsy and effort just....doesn't make him look good at all. Wulf is much better when he's being earnest in his affections or when he isn't aware of the fact that he's being a beefcake.

Wulf's flirting is very brutally honest words that sound like laced up poetry. He speaks about features he loves from Rhys in excessive details while adding a fair bit of physical touch such as brushing some hair away behind Rhys's ear while waxing poetry about how beautiful he looks as the sunset cradles his features.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

No, Wulf knows that Rhys is very dedicated to him and he feels no need to ever worry about Rhys cheating on him.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

He is! Wulf often pays attention to what his partner likes in a kiss and he often gives a very gentle kiss no matter what. He thinks it's a very sweet gesture and often it makes certain situations like sex even better when he gives such an innocent gesture in a filthy moment.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

Wulf is very attentive to his partner and is pretty much a service top in the way that he likes to take care of who he has sex with. This grows more when he's with Rhys since he feels such an urge to take care of him and to worship his sweet lover. He's sweet and often can switch between playful and intense depending on the mood. He can be mean if Rhys wants it though but Rhys must be specific about certain wants and needs.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

Yes! Wulf is an absolute poet and he may or may not actually spend time studying poetry just to make sure that he can keep sputtering out romance to Rhys lovingly.

The way Wulf speaks has always caught a few eyes, from negative to positive, but he's happy to be that odd man and he isn't going to change the way he speaks.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

He doesn't really care about looks but Wulf does tend to notice people who take care of their hair or have pretty hair more. Mostly because a part of him often thinks "they'll get it when I take a longer time sorting out or cleaning my hair".

He looks for someone who tends to be honest and blunt with their opinions and someone who can also respect others opinions, albeit so long as they're not unreasonable. Conversation is very important and he likes to talk about something new everyday!

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

No, he wasn't all that focused on having a sweetheart as a kid unless you count his boyfriend from his teenage to his young adult years. But other than that? Wulf was just really focused on fish in his younger years.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

Wulf found out that his boyfriend had been cheating on him for a few months after dating for about two years so he was pretty broken hearted. Edith shattered the boyfriend's collarbone for hurting her little brother and Wulf eventually recovered welp enough. Though I've mentioned that he still avoids the shop of the person his bf cheated on him with.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Yup! It always makes him blush a bit and Wulf feels special to be called a name that no one else gets called by a person who would usually never call anyone else by that name. Wulf of course uses names for his beloved and Rhys always gets a very generous "darling" or "precious one" when being smooched!

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Wulf never used to, but since dating Rhys? Definitely so. Rhys is....tiny and weak and yes, he is strong spirited and is very talented with his shadows - Wulf admires and loves that - but he is still frail and never seems to know which fights are worth fighting and instead seems to think that all fights must be worth his time!

He worries greatly about Rhys and Wulf will often finds himself keeping an eye out just in case he needs to intervene in a fight to keep his beloved safe.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

50-60, which isn't many considering that Wulf is in his twenties and I imagine that Asgardians aren't considered proper adults until they're in their near 80s. He's definitely more sentimental and a lot of people he's slept with have been those who Wulf has a bond with and a handful of Midgardians he got excited about he's hoping Rhys will be his last.

#ask #blind-mutant #riding the wild winds (wulf)#headcanon

3 notes · View notes

wiirttwood · 4 years

Text

about his past p. i

Wirt grew up in a small town within Colorado, you know those types, the kind of town in where everyone knew everyone, and if anything huge happens to one person, than the entire town would know about it within a matter of days. Yep, that kind of town.

The only interesting thing about that town was the woods that was just outside of it, as it was big and dark and it was said that anyone who wandered deep inside of it often gets lost. Lost to the point of no return, and so many adults advised their kids to never wander into it unless they want to succumb themselves within The Unknown.

For most of his childhood, nothing about it was eventful and it in fact, was rather mundane for the most part, which back then, was something that Wirt had preferred. After all, he has his mother and his father, two people who he thought loved and cared for each other very much and would continue to do so long after Wirt becomes old enough to move out of the house.

It’s unfortunate that what Wirt believed to be true was in reality, completely far from it as for years, the actual truth was that his parents were struggling with their marriage but had kept it a secret from him as to not worry him.

Wirt has always been a bit of a worry wart, even as a child, and so the conflict between his parents was something that they both, especially his mother, didn’t want to inflict onto him.

They can’t exactly tell a boy who isn’t even past the age of ten that the reason why his parents marriage was failing was due to his father cheating on his mother with a co-worker of his who also happened to be married?? And the fact that the whole town didn’t know about it yet, meant that they could keep it as a secret until Wirt is finally old enough to understand, and so they can officially divorce.

Whelp, the secret didn’t last for too long as by the time Wirt was twelve years old, it seemed like everyone else within the town besides Wirt himself knew of what his father had done (and had been doing) when someone within his class had asked him if it was true. The reaction Wirt had was not a pleasant one, and he felt even worse when he questioned his parents, only for them to confirm that it was indeed true.

Not long after and his parents finally divorced, his father moving out of their home and eventually out of the small town, while Wirt stayed with his mother. And for two years, it was exactly just that, Wirt and his mother.

And then he became fourteen and learned that not only did his mom have a new boyfriend who she has been seeing for a few months, but that he had proposed to her and she accepted. To add insult to injury, not only was Wirt gaining a stepfather but his soon-to-be stepfather had a son who was a much younger than Wirt named Greg.

Yep, he was gaining a stepbrother too, and one he instantly resented upon meeting, regardless of how friendly and how quickly attached to Wirt Greg became, Wirt didn’t like him nor did he like his stepfather or the fact that his mom remarried. He much preferred it being just the two of them, or of his parents somehow fixing their issues and never separating when they had the chance to.

For a good year or so, Wirt attempted to be as detached from Greg as he possibly can, always reminding others that Greg was only his stepbrother and not his actual brother and that he wasn’t responsible for Greg no matter how many times he himself was reminded that he in-fact was. Not to mention he constantly needed to tell Greg that he was too busy for him or that he wasn’t interested in the things that the young boy wanted to share with him, completely deluding and convincing himself that it wasn’t adoration Greg saw in him or the fact that Greg genuinely wanted to spend time with him.

In fact, both his mom and his stepfather wanted to spend time with Wirt. They wanted to spend time with their entire family as a whole, but ever since his mom remarried, Wirt believed that there was no room for him within their newfound perfect picture family, and for that he kept himself away as much as possible.

Such isolation is a main factoring reason towards the day in where Greg decided to wander out into the woods.

All Greg wanted was to search for the perfect frog in which he could make his pet and the little boy wanted Wirt to come with him to help. But Wirt wasn’t interested in it and he barely even listened when Greg came into his room and told him that he was going out into the woods to do so. At best, what the teenager did was dismissed Greg and made an off-handed comment on him not being out too late before either of their parents came home, and that was it. Greg was out the door and Wirt thought none the wiser.

It wasn’t until the sun was starting to set and the stars were starting to come out into the sky, and after receiving a phone call from his mom about how she and his stepfather were coming home later than usual and for Wirt to cook dinner for just him and Greg, was when Wirt realized that Greg had yet to come back home.

He needed to remind himself to where Greg had gone before he finally realized that it was the woods where Greg had gone off to. And alone for that matter.

Regardless of what Wirt thought of Greg, one thing that he never wanted to happen was for Greg to get hurt, or worse. And so, he did the one thing he knew he had to do before their parents came back home, and that was to head straight into the woods.

Wirt had been so certain that Greg hadn’t wandered far into the woods, believing or rather, hoping to himself that the little boy was smart enough to stop walking too far and turn around before he could really get lost within it. But alas, that wasn’t the case and deeper and deeper within the woods Wirt went, calling out Greg’s name and searching for any sight of him.

And then he found him, unconscious, clutching an equally unconscious frog, surrounded by branches, and by a lake that Wirt didn’t even know was there, but it was. The lake was down by a hill, one that was big enough in where if a person had roll down and fell, they might have difficulties in climbing back.

Imagine how quick Wirt went into action in coming to Greg’s aid. He tried waking the little boy up, but no anvil. He did, however check to make sure that Greg was still breathing and once he found that he was, Wirt did the only thing he could do, which was pull Greg onto his back and began climbing back up the hill, and eventually, out of the woods.

Their parents were back home by the time the boys came back, the boys had been gone for hours since they arrived home and had been worried onto what had happened to them. Wirt told the truth, or at least of what he knew was true, and off to the hospital they went to help Greg.

Thankfully, Greg made a full recovery, and since then, Wirt decided to be more grateful and attentive of the little boy than he use to be. He even learned to really enjoy Greg’s company, but what became Wirt’s number one priority since then was to make sure that nothing like that day would ever happen again. Never again will he allow Greg to head back into the woods, not with him and certainly not alone.

#[ our long bygone burdens; mere echoes of the spring: headcanons ]

1 note · View note

taeheyhey · 6 years

Text

Close to Normal

Chapter 5 - Can You Answer Your Phone

Taehyung x Reader - Fluff/Angst/Future Smut - 2.2k words

A/N - Hello! I really hope those of you that have found this little story are enjoying it, thank you so much for the likes and follows, I’m only a little blog and I still don’t really know what I’m doing with it, so it really means a lot!!

Chapter One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen ~ Fifteen ~ Sixteen ~ Seventeen ~ Eighteen ~ Nineteen ~ Twenty ~ Twenty-One ~ Twenty-Two

Taehyung’s note lay on the floor by the side of the sofa, apparently unread. Reaching down to retrieve it, he sighed heavily as he saw your name in his handwriting. Jimin tried to comfort him, mainly by attempting to encourage him to see reason. It had been fun spilling the details to him, just like two normal friends their age might, and the younger of the two could tell his excitement was becoming contagious throughout breakfast, as they both anticipated Jimin meeting you.

But you had gone now, god knows where, and all he knew about you was your first name. Realistically last night's meeting would just end up being one of those chance encounters that one – or both – of you may think about occasionally, once alcohol had taken effect or if sleep was elusive. Jimin was only asking questions that would make complete sense to anyone else. How close could you have really gotten in the space of a few hours, exchanging a few simple sentences? Taehyung had agreed with him that the loss he felt was irrational, but the entire situation with you was, and he felt it deeply nonetheless.

“I can’t explain it well, Jimin.” He had paced up and down the room for five or so minutes after Seong-min had left to arrange transport to the shoot location for their second day of filming. Finally ceasing his restless movement, he sat by the window and rested his elbows on the small glass table there. “She had absolutely no idea who I was and it didn’t matter. The only reason she wanted to be here was because of me,” and possibly to distract yourself from whatever had occurred with 'Mark', but he quickly shook that thought away, not wanting to sully the memory of your encounter. Also because he hadn’t necessarily divulged that element of the story to his dark-haired friend, and he was unsure whether or not he intended to.

“Why is that such a surprise to you Taehyung-ah?" He asked softly from his standing position by the door. It was widely acknowledged by anyone they encountered that Taehyung was unreasonably good-looking, but it wasn’t the fact that you found him attractive that was surprising to him. It was the look you gave him as he was tending to your leg, and when he brought you a change of clothes. Even when he had simply held the lift for you, a look of astonished gratitude shone from your face, as if no one had shown you the smallest of courtesies before. You had looked at him like he was your hero.

People were often dismissive of him, mostly contributed to by the persona he had ultimately adopted within the group. Before he had gone to Seoul he was the big brother, but as soon as the members were put together he was suddenly one of the youngest, and he fell in to the 'role' with ease. That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t silly and boisterous, and even he would admit that he thought in a very different way to everyone else. But he was often serious and introspective, and thought frequently about the direction his life was heading and the decisions he had made that led him down that path, and sometimes – only ever for the briefest of moments – considered if he had done the right thing by leaving his family in Daegu all those years ago.

He had grown up idolizing his father absolutely, and from the age he was old enough to understand that one day he would be a grown up and able to have a family of his own, he had wanted to be exactly like him when he had a wife and children. He wanted to look after them and protect them, and the possibility of having people who depended on him – although hypothetical people at this point – made his heart swell with longing whenever he thought about it.

In their frequent late night conversations, he and Jimin had often talked about the possibility of romance, and they had always concurred that for now it just wasn’t something that wouldn’t be fair on any party involved, such were the complications inherent of being an idol. But you didn’t know about him being an idol. You had never seen him playing the fool on variety shows, or witnessed his aegyo on a broadcast. To you, he was simply a young man who had helped you, and he was ecstatic to have been able to play the role of saviour for you. Unless he could find you, he imagined it would be a very long time until he felt that way again.

~~~

You directed the taxi driver to the bar where you worked. It wouldn’t be open yet, but Ronnie – your boss and pretty much your second father – lived in one of the two rooms above it. He would allow you to stay in the other room, having been unable to rent it out due to the unfavourable neighbourhood the bar was situated. It’s usual occupant Hannah, Ronnie’s daughter and your best friend since practically birth, was away studying and wasn’t due to return for almost a year.

As children, you and Hannah had gone around telling everyone you were sisters and you may as well have been, you had spent the majority of your childhood at their house, being taken care of by Ronnie. Your situation at home was – to put it delicately – troublesome, and it was something that Ronnie and your teachers spent a lot of time agonising over. In fact, it seemed that every adult in your life was deeply concerned about your well-being, with the only exception being your own parents.

You decided it would only be fair to let Ronnie know you were on the way, rather than turning up out of the blue and pounding on the fire exit at the back of the building until he woke up. You took a deep breath in an effort to ensure any evidence of tears had vanished from your voice, reluctant to cause him any undue concern, as he worried about you enough already. You plunged your hand in to the depths of your overnight bag to retrieve your phone, only to discover that it wasn’t anywhere to be found. Dragging everything out of the bag frantically, the driver glanced at you through the rear-view mirror, observing your actions and instantly recognising the spastic movement of someone who had misplaced their handset. That coupled with the wide-eyed stare and muttered cursing, it was something he witnessed in the back of his car at least four times a day, and it often led to a higher fare as the passenger undoubtedly would need to go back and recover their most precious of possessions.

“Do you need to go back, sweetheart?” he asked, his fingers already poised above the indicator, ready to perform a u-turn.

It occurred to you that you hadn’t actually had sight of your phone since before you had set off to the hotel yesterday, meaning it could be in any number of places you had been in the last 17 hours. You shook your head “I need to come back to get my car anyway, forget it.”

The thought crossed your mind that maybe you should seek out Taehyung on your return, but you quickly suppressed that urge. He was nowhere to be found when you’d woken up, and you still weren’t entirely sure that the room had belonged to him anyway, given your bizarre and fraught wake up call.

You appeared to have over-romanticised your interactions with him. You admonished yourself for once again creating the beginnings of a fairy tale in your imagination. It was something Mark had often mocked you for, the fantasy land that had taken up residence in your head, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. How must you have looked to Taehyung, arguing with one man and almost immediately following another back to their room?

Then a laugh escaped you as you realised it didn’t make one single bit of difference what he thought of you, it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again, you probably weren’t ever even going to cross his mind. This final realisation suddenly hit you like a punch in the gut. No matter how much you may have misread his intent, he still took care of you and provided you with a much needed refuge for the night.

Your conflicting thoughts, and your hangover, were causing your head to pound relentlessly and you felt relief overwhelming you as the taxi pulled up outside Ronnie’s bar. You knew that you would feel better as soon as you had one of his bear-hugs and heard the colourful swear words he would undoubtedly use to refer to Mark.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a while Ronnie?” You asked as he placed a bottle of beer in front of you, your nose wrinkling at the smell and raising an eyebrow, shifting your eyes pointedly to the clock behind the bar.

“Hair of the dog,” he cited seriously, as would a doctor prescribing antibiotics, before tipping his own bottle back.

“What’s your excuse then?” you asked, taking the smallest sip of the amber liquid, feeling your stomach roil in protest.

"Quality control,” he declared without missing a beat, “it’s a new crate.” He smiled warmly at you, pulling up a stool beside yours, placing a meaty hand on your shoulder. “You are always welcome here y/n, I thought you knew that.” You returned his smile, your affection and gratitude for him causing your eyes to burn with fresh tears, your wobbly grin startling him. He placed his bottle on the high table and pulled you to his side, squishing your shoulders together as he squeezed you comfortingly. “What on earth has happened? Trouble in paradise, is it?”

He attempted to ask the question in a neutral tone, but he had never made a secret of his distaste for Mark, and the hopeful intonation at the end of his enquiry belied his concerned facial expression, the blatant fallacy causing a laugh to escape you. Leaving out any details of Taehyung, still wanting to keep that part of the night just for you – to enjoy the fantasy just a little while longer – you gave Ronnie the abridged version of events.

What followed was a stream of profanity so varied and creative that it was almost poetic, and it would have been funny were it not for the murderous look in Ronnie’s eyes. “Well who does he think he is then, god’s gift? I will throttle him when I see him, the useless bastard.”

You slid the remainder of your beer over to him and stood up to stand behind his seated form. You tucked your chin over his shoulder and wrapped your arms as far as you could around his waist. “If you don’t genuinely think he has done me the biggest favour by giving me a reason to leave then you’re lying to both of us.”

He turned in his seat and planted a kiss on your forehead. “He’s given you a million reasons to leave these past four years, y/n.” He countered, his voice softer. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What and spend my first night as a single woman giving a police statement after you throttle my ex-boyfriend?” you quipped, then remembered your lost phone. “Can I use the bar phone really quick?” You knew Ronnie’s phone would have been upstairs still, he had never really made use of the 'mobile' part of the deal.

He nodded his consent as he made his way to the cellar to bring more crates of the beer you had just been presented with. It passed it’s quality control testing then, you thought wryly, making a mental note to discuss Ronnie’s day drinking with Hannah on her return. You dialled your own number, tapping your foot impatiently, wondering if your battery had ran out. You listened as it rang and rang. You only hoped someone had handed it to reception, that you had dropped it in the restaurant or in the bar, or that housekeeping had found it. Your generic voicemail greeting clicked on and you sighed, placing the handset back in it’s cradle.

The bar phone rang loudly almost as soon as you had hung it up, making you jump a little. Hardly anyone ever rang the landline phone, with the exception of the partners of some of the more seasoned regulars, and never when the bar was closed.

Feeling a little like you were in the beginning of a 90’s slasher flick, you hesitantly reached towards the phone, raising it slowly to your ear. “Hello?”

You heard a large intake of breath on the other end of the line and then a rich, deep voice. “Hello...y/n?”

The instant elation you felt as you heard his voice was so overpowering you had to lean on the bar to stabilise yourself. “Taehyung?”

You heard a voice in the background, and you recognised it as being different from the man you had encountered when you initially woke up. “Geunyeo ya?” said the voice, followed by what sounded like a lot of shuffling and a small banging noise, and then a distant, “Ya!”

When he said your name again in confirmation, you were assured that your interpretation of events between yourself and Taehyung were not a product of your imagination, and you were ecstatic to find that he sounded as relieved to hear your voice as you were to hear his.

#bts #bts smut #bts v #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #v x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario

87 notes · View notes

fangurk · 6 years

Text

This Time (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y//n - Your name Y/l/n - Your last name

y/e/c- your eye color y/h/c - your hair color

Prompt- Based on the song Pork Soda by Glass Animals

Reader Gender - Female (If you want you can imagine it’s not specified if you like)

Summary - Paul and Y/n have always been close friends, ever since he moved to La Push when they were eight. Eventually, unknown to the other, feelings blossomed between the two of them and they got even closer. Until Paul phased. Anything that was previously happening between the two stopped, Paul left his female best friend alone and began following Sam Uley around like, it could not be better described as, a lost puppy. Y/n, who has no clue what is happening to her friend, feels a mix of emotions as she watches the boy she loved and her best friend change for the worst, eventually trying to ignore the fact they were ever friends. One day they meet eyes as Y/n tries to stop a fight and suddenly he’s talking to her again, doing whatever he could to appease her, and never leaving her alone. It’s only a matter of time she starts talking to him and he makes promises he can’t keep; will she find out and forgive him? Or will he blow his last chance?

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mentions of sexual things(I don't know how to word it), small amounts of blood, direct mentions of fighting. Very few things actually happen canonly, most are just for stories sake. I only used some of the lyrics, not all of them.

Word Count-2.2k+ (Not Including Lyrics)

Somewhere in South End when you were fun You took my hand and you made me run Up past the prison to the seafront You climbed the cliff edge and took the plunge Why can’t we laugh now like we did then? How come I see you and ache instead? Let's climb the cliff edge and jump again

There were moments like these where Y/n Y/l/n wished she could have stayed in the past forever. She watched with sullen y/e/c eyes as her, you could say, ex-best friend, roughhoused with a group of boys he had never associated himself with until recently.

Paul Lahote had a long history with the y/h/c haired girl, they had been close since his parents divorced and he moved with his father to La Push when they were eight. She had no clue how their parents knew one another, she just assumed that their fathers were childhood friends and that's why Paul was over at her house every Sunday so their fathers could watch the game and the boy wouldn't be alone.

Something between the two just clicked, that's why the playdates on Sundays turned into them hanging out every day in and after school as they got a little older. One of her fondest memories of their friendship was the first time they went to the beach without adults, she remembered that it was one of possibly five clear days that Washington had all year round and during the summer.

Y/n evoked that she was wearing a cheap one-piece bathing suit that most definitely was a rip off of her favorite Disney character at the time and Paul was wearing some hand-me-down pair of trunks that barely fit him at the time. Back then, Paul was fun and lighthearted, meaning she could joke around with him and not have to worry about having her face crushed in by the new angry Paul. She watched with wide eyes, after he had dragged her all the way up to the shorter cliff jump, as he took a running leap off the cliff and plunged into the cold dark blue waters below.

Considering the fact that he had survived, she followed him and screamed until she hit the water; although she is now very fond of the way he was smiling and laughing, and how she felt when he told her he did it to 'have fun and impress her', she was very very mad at him at the time.

Back then it was all laughs and fuzzy feelings, staying up past midnight with soda and junk food in their rooms, and almost kisses. Now it was all aching feelings, being ignored, and the almost dated awkwardness hung around them so much that they moved to other sides of the classroom. Whatever happened between the two?

Somebody said that I'm a fuckin' slum Don’t know that I belong Maybe you’re fucking dumb Maybe I’m just a bum Maybe you’re fucking scum Don’t you go psycho chum I want you for the world I want you all the time

Eventually, Y/n just tried blocking her best friend from her mind; she put all the pictures, gifts, and cards in boxes and bags in her closet. It wasn't like you could recognize Paul Lahote anyway, recent Paul was completely different physically and personality wise; so much that it scared her. He was taller now, he'd always been fairly short so this was possibly the most minimal of all changes, and had become much more muscular than naturally obtainable; she didn't want to believe that he was doing drugs, she really didn't, but then again, she didn't really know him anymore.

One day Y/n was standing by her locker with a new friend, sorting her books and talking about some random subject that she hadn't entirely been paying attention to because she was spacing out. What brought her out of her haze was a loud noise, similar to body slamming into a locker, and shouts from down the hallway from her.

"Holy Shit! Lahote has Ateara pinned!" Only at this exclamation did Y/n Y/l/n whip her head around quick enough to give someone whiplash, her y/h/c whipping her in the face.

Paul did indeed have the small Ateara boy pinned up against the school's rundown lockers, his face contorted in anger and his entire body was clenched and shaking. Quil had blood trickling from his crooked nose, telling everyone Paul had already broken his nose; Y/n needed to stop this.

"Where are you going!?" Her friend shrieked as the girl broke off into a run towards the two.

As she got closer, Y/n heard almost animalistic growls coming from Paul and she decided that Quil definitely teetered on the line of insane and brave.

"Maybe you're fucking dumb" And with his words, a strong punch that knocked his entire body to the side came.

"Paul Stop!" The girl shouted, her y/e/c eyes blown wide in shock as Paul wailed down upon the fragile boy, getting blood on his clothing and fists.

"Paul Lahote!" She said, mimicking the scolding tone she used that day he jumped off the cliff when they were eleven, "Stop it! You'll kill him!"

Her tone halted the boy in front of her who, with a fairly terrifying look, snapped his head up in her direction; the harsh look in his eyes dying down as he looked into hers. The ache in her heart multiplied by ten but she ignored it, whatever just happened, terrified the ever-loving hell out of her and someone was really injured.

"What the fuck have you done?" She asked in a strained voice and shook her head as Jacob Black and Embry Call moved Quil, who had been freed as Paul had stood up again, "you're fucking insane..."

Those were her parting words as she ran back down the hall after the three boys, leaving a gaping Paul to be dragged from the premises by Jared Cameron. He never thought it'd be her.

Pineapples are in my head (When you were fun) Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead (You made me run) Pineapples are in my head (To the seafront) Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead (She took the plunge)

For the next few days, Y/n had to ignore the eyes on her back from Sam Uley's little cult; she had to ignore the conflicted look in Paul's eyes every time she happened to bother sparing him a glance. She had to force herself to stop thinking of the good memories, of how happy that first time at the beach was. About how happy he used to make her but now, now he was just some angry monster who resolved every conflict by throwing blows that could kill someone.

Paul watched the girl he used to be so close to, who he loved, try to avoid him at every cost with a heavy heart; he couldn't blame her. They were best friends since they were eight then one day, eight years later, he started ignoring her for boys he swore he'd never join; he cut his hair and got a tattoo. He even moved seats away from her, trying to make it easier, yet he still couldn't anticipate that the next time she'd look him in the eye after months would be when he was losing control and that he'd imprint on her.

"Paul, you should eat," Emily Young, Sam's imprint, said, shoving the plate the boy had just pushed away from him back towards him with a kind smile.

"I can't Em," He muttered in monotony, his chin on his fists as he stared at the tablecloth, "She took the plunge..."

"What the hell are you on about?" Jared asked, his mouth full of food that he, unlike his brother, had happily taken from the technical pack matriarch.

"She took the plunge..." He whispered to himself again, seeming to have a revelation as he slowly stood, "I jumped in and she followed right after me!"

The rest turned to one another with worried eyes, watching in confusion as he pretty much ran out of the house as fast as he could; heading straight for the girl's house in the pouring rain.

Y/n Y/l/n had just finished her homework and was sitting up restlessly listening to the wind and harsh rain pounding against her windows; for some reason, it calmed her. She had no clue as to why she was awake so late, she had finished her homework and usually, she'd just go to her room, but today was different. She just had a feeling that she should stay in the living room and had no clue why, until there was a knock on her door.

Nervously, they peeked a y/e/c eye through the peek hole only to see the one person she didn't want to see. Paul. He was standing outside her door with a sullen expression, her nerves bundled into knots as she slowly lowered herself out of sight from the hole.

"Y/n, I know you're on the other side of this door," His voice, muffled by the rain and the door, caused her eyes to widen in both fear and surprise, "so I'm just gonna talk...to the door, and you, hopefully."

"Look I know ignoring you was wrong but I, " He continued, taking a deep breath because, she knew, he was going to cry, "I kinda had to."

She couldn't have prevented the loud snort if she tried, she couldn't believe him; no one has a justifiable reason for suddenly dumping their best friend for a gang of druggies.

"I know what you're thinking; I know that pretty little mind of yours," A blush dusted her cheeks at that, she really needed help, "you're mad at me, I saw it in your eyes the other day. But I really do have a reason."

She turned slightly towards the door, the back of her head still pressed against it, with furrowed brows; his tone was sincere, breaking, she knew he couldn't have been lying but that didn't make it feel any better.

"The tribal legends are true, that's why I wasn't allowed to talk to you because otherwise, you’d get hurt; because I love you and you used to do stupid shit with me like that day at the beach-" He cut himself off, his tone defeated and hinting at angry, "Whatever. You're probably not even here, I'm wasting my time...."

She heard her old porch creak and groan as he got up, she could hear his heavy footsteps until he got too far from her door. She thought of his words about the legends, she thought about the changes they went through and how, if you bumped hands with them, their skin was so hot; he wasn't kidding.

Y/n stood as quickly as she could, her y/h/c hair whipping her in the face as she opened the door and ran out after him...

5000 footsteps in your wet dress Back to the house with your arms around my neck We drank pork soda with tangled legs I won’t forget how you looked at me then I know I'm no sweet prince of love

She chased the large outline of Paul in the rain, it seemed like five thousand footsteps in the now sopping wet clothes she was wearing before she got close enough to make the first real physical contact she'd had with him in months. She grabbed his arm and used it to propel herself in front of him, out of instinct she wrapped her arms around his neck. But what she did next, that was out of a completely new and different instinct. She didn't realize what she had done before it was too late, and he was kissing back. Emotions poured out of the both of them and into the kiss, he loved her back. She loved him and he loved her back.

She pulled back for air, "Took you long enough you ass!" She said breathlessly, resting her forehead against his as he held her close to him, "I've waited eight goddamn years to hear that!"

"Yeah yeah," He grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully with a half smile as he looked her in the eyes for a split second.

"How about we take this inside?" She whispered, blushing as he buried his face in her neck, the heat contrasting with the cold making her shudder.

She felt him smirk softly as he lifted her into his arms, making her own retake their position around his neck as he walked over the threshold of her house. Once the door was closed she kissed him again, relishing in every little bit of what she'd been dreaming of for so long. As he moved up the stairs they both knew they'd never forget what was going to happen, nor would they forget the way they were looking at one another...

Let's climb the cliff edge and jump again

Y/n Y/l/n woke up the next morning just in time to begin getting ready for school, naked, in an otherwise empty bed. As she moved she heard a crinkle noise, furrowing her eyebrows she felt around the covers for what was making the noise. Eventually, she found a small note with that very familiar horrible handwriting that belonged to the one she loved.

'Had something to do for Sam, see you later. 7:00 pm on the small jump' she read with a small smile, shaking her head and chuckling when she realized he had snuck out of her window in the middle of the night.

This time, she would see to it that they did the jump together; maybe so that this time he wouldn't get to tease her for being chicken shit the first time around. As she thought of future plans for her life she chuckled at herself, she was getting so far ahead of herself but she was sure that this time she was allowed to. That this time he wouldn't leave and they'd be happy, after all, this time was so much different...

Pineapples are in my head (Pineapples are in my head) Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead (Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead) Pineapples are in my head (Pineapples are in my head) Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead (Got nobody 'cause I’m brain dead)

#paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #Twilight wolf pack #twilight imagine #quileute pack imagine #paul lahote

899 notes · View notes